The Thrush from Thrush Affair

by jhalpin322@aol. com

  “The two factions, perhaps?” Solo said.

  “Possibly.”

  The two agents peered cautiously around the corner. The black car had gone. The crowd had thinned. The police were all far up the street near the river. Illya nodded to Solo.

  “I still want to talk to Lilli Kessler,” the small Russian said.

  “She sang to the man, pointed him out.” Solo said.

  “I had the same thought,” Illya said. “Our THRUSH friends acted as if they didn’t know her, but they arrived most conveniently.”

  “You think she fingered him?”

  “I think it’s highly possible,” Illya said.

  “Then let’s go and---“

  Illya held up his hand. They were still standing at the corner. Solo peered around. He saw Lilli Kessler leaving the café with Manfred Burton. The high THRUSH leader held her arm in a gesture of close familiarity, and guided her into his limousine. The limousine came to the corner and passed. Solo and Illya watched the petite blonde laughing in the back seat with the burly figure of Manfred Burton beside her.

  They seemed undisturbed by the death of a man in front of her.

  SIX

  It was dark outside the window of Alexander Waverly’s office. The city was as silent as it ever was in the early hours of the morning. The office was also silent, Solo and Illya were seated at the round table watching their chief as he listened intently on the private telephone. Finally, Alexander Waverly nodded.

  “Very well. Continue the study,” the unsmiling U.N.C.L.E. chief said, and hung up. He chewed on his unlighted pipe. “The man who was killed at the Café Leider was an agent of Interpol. The police don’t have the details yet, but our Paris office reports that his name was Marcel Montand, and he was working on a THRUSH courier system. It seems to have led him to the cafe!”

  “Where he was killed,” Illya said.

  “Where he was writing something,” Solo said.

  Waverly sucked on his empty pipe. The bushy-browed Section-I leader seemed to notice that the pipe was empty. He stared at it. Then, absently, he took his tobacco pouch from his pocket and began to fill the pipe. Solo and Illya watched their chief. It was Solo who spoke first.

  “A man was killed. A waiter took what he had written. The waiter was prepared to evade pursuit and had a getaway arranged. He was also obviously no waiter,” the handsome chief agent said.

  “And I was kidnapped by obvious THRUSH agents who knew me,” Illya said. “Manfred Burton was there in the café, and he left with the Kessler woman. Lilli Kessler’s maid is obviously a kind of bodyguard.”

  Waverly had his pipe filled. He found a match immediately this time. He lighted his pipe, puffed.

  “Precisely,” Waverly said as if hearing the unspoken thoughts of his two enforcement agents. “Are we dealing with one section of THRUSH or two? Are we, for that matter, dealing with THRUSH and someone else? Which group, if there were two, killed Montand and why? It would seem, gentlemen, that THRUSH has not located the plans for the rocket yet. However, it would also seem that there may be something beside the rocket plans involved.”

  “What do we know about Walter Hand?” Illya said. “I know enough about Burton.”

  Waverly pressed a button on his desk. The wall opened to reveal a screen. Waverly pressed another button and leaned down to speak into a microphone.

  “Walter Hand file, Miss Heatherly, if you please.”

  Solo had his usual mental vision of the beautiful, red-headed May Heatherly seated in her file room, as cool and efficient as she was beautiful. He sighed. May did not see eye-to-eye with Solo on fraternization among U.N.C.L.E. people. But Solo put this tragedy out of his mind as the picture of a small, fat man flashed onto the screen.

  There were four pictures first, showing Walter Hand from all angles. The THRUSH sub-leader was almost as round as he was tall. His left eye dropped in a sleepy manner, but the expression in his eyes was not sleepy.

  “A very dangerous man,” Waverly said. “I knew him once. He was an American intelligence agent until he decided that he wanted a great deal more than a normal government could give him. He was suspected of being a double, even triple agent, but there was never any proof. He got his start by exposing a Soviet agent to the Nazis in World War II, for which he was paid handsomely. It was then suspected that he engineered the exposure of two Nazi agents to the Russians. Again, for a handsome reward.”

  “A nice man,” Solo said.

  The last picture showed Walter Hand smiling at the camera, for all the world like some beaming and innocent businessman on a vacation. The setting looked like Hawaii. May Heatherly’s voice came cool over the speaker.

  “Walter Hand, former United States agent, also suspected as triple agent. At present poses as a highly successful Denver, Colorado, businessman. Heads his own company, Pikes Peak Engineering Company. This is known to be only a cover for his real activity as head of western United States branch of THRUSH. Is not on the THRUSH council, but has been mentioned for that promotion many times. Always opposed by Manfred Burton, and by Augustus Bartz.”

  When the cool female voice stopped, Waverly nodded. “As you know, gentlemen, it is considered poor form in THRUSH for one unit to operate in another unit’s territory without full permission. I doubt if Hand could get Burton’s permission at this point. Therefore, if one of those groups were Hand’s men, they were operating on their own. Which might account for their nervousness.”

  “What about the woman?” Solo asked.

  Waverly nodded. “Miss Heatherly? The file on Lilli Kessler, please.”

  A picture of the petite blonde flashed onto the screen. Then more pictures flashed. They showed the elegant chanteuse singing in the supper clubs many cities. There were shots of her in most of the major cities. She was pictured posing with generals of most countries including both Nazi and Russian generals.

  “Miss Kessler has always appeared to have quite broad taste,” Waverly said drily. “Claims to know nothing about politics. Which is hard to accept, given her history. She was born in Vienna, usual modest circumstances, a rather impoverished family of some social standing. She first went on the stage in Vienna, learned her English by listening to records in her dressing room. She soon was singing in the best places in German, French, and English. She came here and sang with some of the better known band leaders.

  “Since then she has traveled a great deal, to almost every country of the world. She maintains a permanent home in Zurich, but she is rarely there. In addition to her singing, she has acted in the West End in London, and on Broadway. She has made a lot of recordings and radio appearance, but strangely, very few on television.”

  “Perhaps she doesn’t care to be seen by so many people,” Illya said.

  “Perhaps,” Waverly said. “In any event, she is a cultured, elegant woman, who has a following on every continent. She travels very much. She moves in both the best and highest circles.”

  “A perfect front for a courier,” Solo said.

  “Yes,” Waverly nodded. “The thought had occurred to me. You see, in addition to all her other attributes, she has many close male friends. One of them has long been reputed to be Manfred Burton. She has been seen many places with Burton. On his infrequent trips to Europe, Bartz did not send him often; he was usually seen with the Kessler woman.”

  “Doesn’t that clinch it?” Solo asked.

  Waverly shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. THRUSH leaders know many people who are not involved in their activities. So far, we have little evidence against the Kessler woman. She is most circumspect.”

  “Little evidence?” Illya asked. “Then there is some?”

  “Only inferentially, Mr. Kuryakin. To date, as close as our records tell us, six men have been killed in clubs where she was working.”

  “Coincidence?” Solo asked.

  “Very possibly, Mr. Solo. Miss Kessler has worked in hundreds of clubs. I---“

  The three men all tensed. Alarms ha
d begun to ring all through the building. Feet pounded outside in the halls. The automatic steel safety panels slid down over the doors and windows. Solo and Illya had their U.N.C.L.E. Specials out. Waverly flicked switches on his television console. In the reception room there was a scene of deadly pandemonium. The receptionist, her gun out, and four security guards, also with their guns out, were surrounding something or someone. Waverly flicked a switch.

  “Bring that person to my office! Report at once!”

  A voice came from the security control. “All secure, sir. One intruder in custody.”

  The steel panels slid soundlessly back out of the way. Solo and Illya did not put their weapons away yet. Waverly sat calmly watching his door. The door slid open. Four guards stepped through. They had their guns out and pointing at their prisoner. The prisoner was Lilli Kessler!

  The petite blonde smiled. “I think you want my help, lieblings, yes?”

  Act II

  SING OUT, SWEET THRUSH

  The small, elegant blonde still smiled at them all. She looked at the Specials and raised a brow. She was wearing a green silk suit and magnificent jewelry. She seemed not the least disturbed by all the chaos she had caused.

  “May I?” Lilli said, indicating a chair.

  “Please do,” Waverly said in his most courtly voice.

  She sat and crossed her slim legs. One leg swung lightly as she smiled at them all, especially at Solo. She seemed to see Solo for the first time. Her eyes widened and she looked the handsome chief agent up and down with appreciation. Alexander Waverly cleared his throat.

  “Harumph! Now,” Waverly said to the senior security man who was still there, “may I ask exactly what Miss Kessler is doing here, and how she reached the reception room?”

  “I jiggled the little hook, cheri,” Lilli said.

  The senior security man flushed scarlet. “It seems that this lady gave Del Floria the correct sign and went into the dressing room. She worked the secret lever. Of course, as soon as the door opened all the alarms went, she did not have any of the recognition identification. We stopped her in the reception room. There was no trouble.

  “No,” Waverly said drily. “Very well; you may go. Tell Del Floria I would like to speak with him later.”

  “Yes sir,” the senior security man said. He angrily waved his men out of Waverly’s office. The senior security man could see trouble coming. The entire recognition sign system would have to be changed. It meant a lot of work for the senior security man, and that made him angry. But he left quietly, and in the small office of U.N.C.L.E.’s New York Chief, Lilli Kessler waved him good-by.

  Waverly began to look for a match again, and spoke to the petite blonde as he did so.

  “Very well, Miss Kessler. Perhaps you will be good enough to explain just what you are doing here, and how you learned the proper recognition signal, not to mention the location of that secret lever in the dressing room.”

  “I could say it was all a coincidence, yes?” the petite blonde said.

  “You could say that, no,” Solo said.

  The woman nodded. “No, of course you are right. A friend told me? Perhaps that?”

  “What friend?” Illya snapped, his enigmatic eyes studying Lilli Kessler.

  “Come, come, Miss Kessler,” Waverly said. “We are quite aware that the signal and the location of the lever in the proper dressing room could not have been acquired by accident.”

  Lilli Kessler smiled. “There, my dear Waverly, you are a little wrong. All right, I will tell all, yes? I learned those things from a friend, yes. It is true. But perhaps not as bad as you think. You see, gentlemen, I have come to help you because I am, in a way, with you. I am an agent of Interpol. I learned your little secrets in the course of many years work with U.N.C.L.E. agents in the Paris section.”

  “Interpol?” Illya said. “I suppose you can prove that, Miss Kessler?

  “But of course, Mr. Kuryakin,” said Lilli Kessler smiling. “You see? I know much. I like you better as a blond rather than in that ridiculous waiter disguise.”

  “How is it we do not have you on file as an Interpol agent, Miss Kessler?” Waverly asked quietly.

  “Because we in Interpol also have our secrets. I am what is called a totally “planted” agent. I am totally undercover, and I always have been. I am known to only the highest level of Interpol. I am, of course, infiltrated into THRUSH on the courier level. Your little secrets came to me over the years from very small bits of information. Of course, THRUSH knows most of your signs, but it does them little good without the recognition identification documents. Naturally, I knew this. I expected to be stopped in the reception room.”

  “Why not contact us more directly?” Solo asked.

  Lilli raised an elegant eyebrow. “And risk discovery? Really, Mr. Solo, Interpol has spent many years securing my cover. I could hardly risk blowing it, could I? No, I made sure I was secure and not followed, and then came to Del Floria’s. It was much the safest way to have myself brought to you, yes?”

  In the silence of Waverly’s small office, the three men looked at each other. Solo shrugged. Illya watched the woman and did not look convinced. Waverly was thoughtful. At last Waverly spoke.

  “You, uh, don’t mind if I check this out, do you, Miss Kessler?”

  “Of course not. If I did I would not be here. I think this is the time when I must come out and do my work. THRUSH is at a very vulnerable stage.”

  “Yes,” Waverly said, “quite. If you will just talk to Mr. Kuryakin and Mr. Solo, I think I can clear this up within a few minutes.”

  Lilli Kessler inclined her head, and her sparkling eyes turned again toward Solo. She had a very appraising look in the eyes. The handsome agent seemed to please her, and she beamed her most alluring smile. Solo beamed back. Illya watched them both sourly.

  It was an hour later before Waverly returned. The bushy-browed chief resumed his seat and now he smiled one of his rare smiles for the benefit of Lilli Kessler.

  “Very well, Miss Kessler. Your story appears genuine. I must say it took considerably more time than usual. Your status is most undercover, as you said. It seems we had to reach the highest man in the Paris office before he could prove what you were. Let me congratulate you on the most excellent work”

  Lilli Kessler became serious. “It was necessary, Mr. Waverly, believe me. Interpol has lost many agents in its work against THRUSH. Montand was only the latest. We decided many years ago that a totally planted agent, with no contact with headquarters for at least five years, was the only possible way of getting close to THRUSH.

  “Only recently have I risked any contact with my people. Montand was the first man assigned to work with me.”

  “And he didn’t last long,” Solo said. “Does that mean they are on to you?”

  “I don’t think so, Napoleon. May I call you Napoleon? It has such an aristocratic ring,” Lilli said with a smile.

  “You can call me Napoleon,” Solo said.

  Waverly sighed. “Very nice, I’m sure, Mr. Solo. But suppose we remain with business for the time being? How can you be sure, Miss Kessler?”

  “Simple. I had made no contact at all with Montand. The little scene you witnessed, the one that made Mr. Kuryakin so suspicious, that was Montand’s way of telling me who he was. I had no chance to acknowledge the revelation. No, Montand was killed for what he was writing. And I have no idea what that was.”

  “Who killed him, Miss Kessler?”Illya said.

  Lilli smiled. “Call me Lilli. Everyone does. Who? Why Walter Hand’s men, I’m sure of that.”How can you be sure?” Illya said.

  “Because Hand is after the plans.” Lilli said. “Oh yes, I know of the rocket plans. You see, my actual assignment now is Manfred Burton. We planned it all along, to have someone non-American get close to Burton. I am close to him. I know that he has the plans, on a roll of microfilm he never lets out of his secret office. You see, he trusts me. He showed me the film. It is a large roll, as mic
rofilm goes, about the size of a thimble. The plans must be large and detailed.”

  Waverly nodded. “They are, which is one of the problems of transmission. The documents filled a very large file. But tell us, Miss Kessler, just why have you risked coming to U.N.C.L.E?”

  “Because I must have help. Naturally, being with THRUSH so long, I recognized Mr. Kuryakin by his name when the THRUSH man used the name. I had already noted Mr. Solo by sight.”

  “What kind of help?” Waverly asked.

  “Let me explain. I am, as I said, very close to Manfred, but that has exposed me to Walter Hand. I am watched by Hand’s men, as you saw, Mr. Kuryakin. At the same time, Manfred is very careful with that film. He cannot transmit it; he fears to let it out of his hands for a second. He does not really trust his own people. He is waiting for a big meeting soon where Council will send a member to pick up the film. Manfred wants to deliver the film in person, of course. However, so does Walter Hand. Hand will stop at nothing, and neither will Burton. So---“

  Lilli Kessler stopped, looked at them all.

  “So?” Waverly said.

  “So I think you must get the film. I can show you where it is, and help you get in, but I do not have the tools or the skill to get it. He keeps it in a very strong safe.”

  Again there was a silence. Illya narrowed his shrewd eyes beneath his lowered brow, and ran his hand through his thatch of blond hair. Even Solo raised an eyebrow and looked at his companions. Waverly made a tent of his hands and pressed the tips of his fingers against his lips. His hooded eyes were considering the petite blonde singer.

  “You---uh---want us to help you get the roll of microfilm, Miss Kessler?” Waverly said slowly.

  Lilli Kessler shrugged her fine shoulders. “Why should you trust me that far, hein? No, I want to lead you to the plans so that you can have them. I do not want suspicion on me if it can be helped. I still have work to do. But I am worried that those plans will be delivered, so you must have them.”

  Waverly smiled. “I see. Well---“

  “And I am worried,” Lilli Kessler went on. “I admit it, I am worried very much about Walter Hand. I think I would like some strong protection, yes?”