‘Give this to Mala Reid, and make yourself another ten bucks.’
The waiter gaped at him, read the card and then grinned.
‘Yes, sir. Do you want dinner?’
‘No ... I want Miss Reid ... hurry it up Comrade.’
When the waiter had gone, Girland sat back in the semi-darkness and listened to the noise the four girls were making.
Their act finally finished and a few subdued lights came on. It was obviously the interval. He lit a cigarette and continued to wait.
Ten minutes later, the door of the booth pushed open and Mala came in. She was still wearing her blue frock She had just been about to change when the waiter had brought Girland’s message. She was very tense and her eyes showed her alarm. When she saw Girland, she started back, half turned to run, then stopped, staring at him ‘Hello, baby,’ Girland said, getting to his feet. ‘Come on in.’ He had to raise his voice to be heard above the noise of the people talking in the restaurant below. ‘Remember me? Yes, I see you do. Don’t look so scared. I’m always nice to lovely women.’
Mala remained motionless, staring at him, terrified.
‘What - what do you want?’
‘Sit down,’ Girland said. ‘Relax. You and I have lots to talk about. Would you like a drink?’
‘No ... what do you want?’
‘Sit down.’ Girland pulled out a chair. ‘You don’t have to be scared of me. Come on ... sit down.’
Very tense, reluctantly. Mala took the chair.
Girland said quietly. ‘Now watch carefully ... this mean anything to you?’ He touched the knot of his tie ran his thumbs down the back of his coat lapels and tapped his right shoulder with his left hand. This was a combination of signals that all Dorey’s agents used when they contacted other agents they didn’t know.
Mala recognised the signals. She knew then this handsome, very dashing looking American had come from Dorey, but that didn’t still her fears.
She nodded.
‘Fine,’ Girland said. ‘Now listen carefully ... you have a job to do.’ He began to tell her about Dorey’s plan to use him as a smoke screen, but Mala interrupted him.
‘Stop! I don’t want to hear! I’m not working for him anymore! Don’t tell me anything!’
Girland regarded her, his eyes hardening.
‘You are Dorey’s agent in Prague, aren’t you? What are you talking about?’
‘I’m not working any more for him!’ Mala said desperately.
She got to her feet. ‘I don’t want anything to do with you!’
‘You’ll have to have something to do with me,’ Girland said. ‘Sit down!’
She hesitated, then seeing the expression in his eyes, she obeyed.
‘You’ve reached a point of no return,’ Girland said. ‘Now listen ...’ Speaking briefly, he told her of Dorey’s plan to get Latimer into Prague, how Dorey had made him the smoke screen, and about the thirty thousand dollars. He went on to tell her about Bruckman’s part and how he had been shot. ‘So the money’s gone.’ Girland concluded. ‘We are now landed with a Top Secret document that must be got back to Dorey. I can’t get it out. Malik knows too much about me. It is now up to you ...’ He paused as he saw she was shaking her head.
‘He didn’t get the money. We found it. It’s on the base of the angel,’ she said.
‘We? Who is we?’
Mala hesitated. There was something about this man that inspired her with confidence. He was so unlike Worthington.
She felt, if anyone could help her, this man would. She told him about Worthington.
Girland listened, suppressing a groan.
There was a tap on the door. Both stiffened as the door opened. Worthington, wearing his horn spectacles and carrying his suitcase, came into the booth.
chapter five
Malik popped open the brown paper parcel that had been found by Bruckman’s body. He glared at the two folded newspapers, then went through them rapidly to see if there was anything marked, then flung them to the floor.
He looked at Zernov who was nursing a heavily bandaged arm.
‘You killed a man for this?’
Only Smernoff who knew Malik well, realised how close Malik was to explosion point.
Suk who was with Zernov, said, ‘He was doing what he thought was right.’
Malik glared at him.
‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ He switched his green eyes to Zernov. ‘You killed a man for this?’
‘He shot at me,’ Zernov said sullenly. ‘I had no alternative.’
‘This is now an international incident,’ Malik said. ‘This man is one of Dorey’s agents. There will be an inquiry by the American Ambassador. This shooting will make headline news in the Capitalist press. By your stupidity, you have ruined the operation I have arranged. By turning on the light as you did, you have proved yourself a fool and utterly incompetent.’
Zemov’s flat, brutal face shone with sweat.
‘I - I thought ...’ he stammered but Malik cut him short.
‘Thought? How can you think without a brain? Get out!’
Although Malik’s face was expressionless, his green eyes were so malevolent, Zernov recoiled. He hurriedly left the room.
Malik turned and looked at Suk.
‘That man must be punished. He is useless to you ... do you understand?’
‘Yes.’
There was a pause, then Malik asked. ‘Where is Girland?’
Suk squinted at him.
‘Girland? I - I don’t know. He is being shadowed. What has he to do with this?’
‘Find out where he is! I want to know!’
As Suk made to pick up the telephone, Malik went on, ‘Go elsewhere! I need the telephone.’
‘Yes.’
Suk hurriedly left the room.
Malik closed his huge hands into fists. Smernoff watched him, feeling it was safer to say nothing. Malik remained still for a long moment, then he said: ‘What an operation! You allow Vlast to kill himself! That oaf kills one of Dorey’s best men! This woman Reid will be alerted! And then there’s Girland ... can’t anything I order be carried out!’
‘So what do we do?’ Smernoff said. He found Malik’s tantrums boring.
Malik stared at him.
‘We pick up the girl and Girland. We’ll make them talk. I am now handling this myself. I can’t trust any of these fools!’
‘Suppose we wait for Suk’s report?’ Smernoff said, lighting a cigarette. ‘The girl is at the nightclub now. Her act comes on in fifty minutes. We have time. We can pick her up when she leaves.’
Malik contained himself with an effort.
‘Yes ... give me a cigarette.’
‘Why don’t you buy your own cigarettes?’ Smernoff grumbled and handed over a pack of Benson & Hedges.
‘These are capitalist cigarettes,’ Malik said.
Smernoff grinned.
‘I like them. If you don’t want to smoke that kind of cigarette, why should I care?’
Malik lit the cigarette and tossed the pack back to Smernoff.
‘Why newspapers in a parcel?’ he said, thinking aloud.
‘Bruckman broke into the woman’s apartment. Let us imagine he was looking for something of value and this woman planted this parcel.’ He looked at the newspapers on the floor. ‘There might be a hidden message there. They must be examined.’
Suk came into the room, white-faced, his forehead moist.
‘They have lost him,’ he said, his voice despairing ‘I had three men covering him ... yet, they have lost him!’
Malik made a savage movement with his hand.
‘This will be reported Comrade Suk. Girland is not to leave the country. I hold you personally responsible. I want this man!’
Turning to Smernoff, he said, ‘We will now pick up the girl. She could tell us where Worthington is hiding. I want him too.’
He glared at Suk. ‘Have her apartment searched!’
He left the room, followed by Smerno
ff.
Suk mopped his face, the n picked up the telephone receiver. He began to give instructions to every frontier post, the airport and to the guards at the railway station.
‘This man must be detained,’ he kept saying. ‘There must be no mistake.’
* * *
Worthington was telling his story. He sat huddled down in the chair, facing Mala and Girland. His eyes were wide with alarm.
Hearing the shooting, he explained, he realised that very soon the police would arrive and search the apartment.
‘I packed some things for you,’ he said, looking at Mala. ‘We can’t go back. They will be looking for you now. They could come here.’
Girland was examining this tall, weak-looking Englishman.
He asked himself what the hell he was getting into by being involved with a man like this.
‘How about the money?’ he asked, watching Worthington closely.
Worthington stiffened, then looked quickly at Mala.
‘I’ve told him,’ she said.
Worthington flinched. The money was terribly important to him. How could she have told a complete stranger that they had so much money?
‘I don’t understand ... I ...’
‘We’ll go into details later.’ Girland said crisply. ‘What’s happened to the money?’
Worthington hesitated and looked for guidance from Mala.
Just how much, he wondered, had she told this man?
‘He knows about the money.’ Mala said impatiently.
Again Worthington hesitated, then said sullenly, ‘I have it in my suitcase.’
Girland drew in a long, slow breath.
‘That’s something ... now, let’s get out of here. You know the district. Where do we go?’
Mala hesitated.
‘If we had a car ... we could go to a friend of mine, Jan Braun. He has a farm.’
‘What’s so difficult about a car? We’ll borrow one. Okay, let’s go to your friend. Come on ... is there a back way out?’
‘Yes ...’ Mala was still hesitating.
‘Snap it up, baby. The fuse is burning.’
‘But I just can’t walk out ...’
Girland caught hold of her arm.
‘Let’s go!’
Worthington, listening to all this, looking helplessly first at Girland and then at Mala, said, ‘He’s right. They could come here, looking for you.’
‘Today’s understatement,’ Girland said and bustled Mala out into the passage. ‘Lift your pretty feet. Where do we go?’
Galvanised by the hard urgency in his voice, she pulled away from him and ran down the passage to a door. She opened it and stepped out into a dark yard that opened out on to a small parking lot where a number of cars, owned by tourists, stood in a line.
Girland, followed by Worthington, carrying his suitcase, joined her. Girland looked at the line of cars.
‘Wait here,’ he said and moved quickly to the cars. He checked five of them before he found a Mercedes with the key in the ignition lock. He slid into the driving seat and turned on the parking lights, then he waved to Mala and Worthington to join him. They came across the parking lot at a run. Worthington got into the back seat and Mala scrambled in beside Girland who let in the clutch and drove out of the parking lot.
As he drove down the main street, he saw two police cars pull up outside the entrance to the arcade leading to the night club.
‘Nicely timed,’ he said and smiled at Mala. ‘Now where do we go?’
Mala directed him out of the City. She kept looking at him as he drove at a steady speed, taking no risks. His calm expression, the sardonic look in his eyes and his smile of relaxation gave her tremendous confidence.
As they crossed the Zvikov Bridge Worthington said, ‘We can’t hope to get away. They’ll trace the car. We ...’
‘Relax,’ Girland said. ‘The show isn’t over for another eighty minutes. This is a tourist’s car. It won’t be missed until the show is over, then the owner will have to report to the police Imagine the flap he’ll be in, trying to make himself understood. We have at least two hours’ start.’ He turned to Mala. She was really quite a doll, he thought. He began to warm to her ‘Tell me about Jan Braun.’
Steadying her voice. Mala told him about Braun. ‘His farm is only thirty kilometres from here. He’ll help us ... I am sure he will.’
‘That’s comforting. We need help, baby. We need a lot of help.’ They were climbing a steep hill out of the city. Girland went on, ‘So you got tired of Dorey?’ He was now speaking to Worthington. ‘I don’t blame you. I got tired of him months ago.’
Reacting to the understanding note in Girland’s voice, Worthington leaned forward.
‘It was when I heard that Malik had arrived,’ he said. ‘I knew ...’
‘Malik?’ Girland’s voice shot up. ‘Did you say Malik?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he in Prague?’
‘Yes ... he is hunting for me.’
‘Phew!’ Girland grimaced. Watching him. Mala felt a stab of fear. For a brief moment, Girland looked startled and less confident He went on, ‘Malik and I are old pals. We love each other the way a mongoose loves a snake. Are you sure Malik is in Prague?’
‘Yes, I am sure.’
Girland slightly increased the speed of the car while he thought. He now realised the three of them were in deadly danger. He knew Malik. Where Malik was Smernoff was, and Smernoff was the Soviets’ top hunter of men. His long silence, while he thought, terrified both Mala and Worthington.
‘Tell me about Braun,’ Girland said finally. ‘Have you been seen with him? I know Malik. He will check on everyone who is in your circle. If he finds out you know a farmer he will check him right away.’
‘I haven’t seen Jan now for more than a year,’ Mala told him. ‘I’ve never mentioned him to any of my friends. I am sure he will help us because my father helped his father.’
‘Have you been to his farm?’
‘Once, about three years ago.’
‘What sort of place is it?’
‘It’s run down and lonely ... really lonely.’
‘Is he on his own?’
‘He lives with his wife ... Blanca.’
‘Can you trust her?’
‘Oh, yes. She is a wonderful woman.’
‘He has the usual outhouses?’
‘There are two big barns.’
Girland thought, then shrugged.
‘Okay, we’ll have to take a chance. I don’t see what else we can do. We might still need this car for a quick getaway. We could hide it in one of the barns.’ He increased speed.
Worthington listening to all this, resented and feared Girland This man was doing what he knew he should be doing.
Worthington was also worried about the money in his suitcase.
There was something about Girland that warned him Girland would take the money if he had the chance, and yet Worthington realised bitterly that if anyone could save him, it would be Girland.
Girland was sensitive to a hostile atmosphere. He had already realised that Worthington could become a nuisance. He also realised that this weak, tall man was desperately in love with Mala. This also might complicate the situation. He began to tell Worthington about Dorey’s plan to use him as a smokescreen, about Harry Moss, the money and why he had come to Prague.
‘Dorey was too smart. He planted on me a T.S. document by mistake,’ Girland concluded. ‘Now I’m landed with it. If I don’t get it back to him he’s through. I happen to have a soft spot for the old goat. He’s the salt in my stew.’ He laughed. ‘Life would be damn dull without him, so I’m going to get it back to him, but the operation will be tricky.’
‘Couldn’t you give it to the Ambassador?’ Mala asked. ‘He would get it back to Mr. Dorey.’
‘If I gave it to the Ambassador, he would read it. He would see that it was Dorey’s personal copy and he would want to know why it was in Prague. No, if I am to save Dorey’s hide, I h
ave to get it back to him myself.’
‘You have it on you?’ Worthington asked, stiff with resentment.
Girland looked briefly at the thin, weak face he could see in the driving mirror.
‘I have it. I was going to swap it with Bruckman for the money. It would have been safe with him ... he was Dorey’s man, but now Bruckman is dead, so it falls into my lap.’
There was a pause, then Worthington said, ‘This money belongs to me. Mala and I need it to get out of the country. You’re not having it. That must be understood.’
Here it comes, Girland thought, then said quietly, ‘Nothing should be understood until you get out. Just how do you plan to get out?’
‘That is my business!’ Worthington said. ‘I’m telling you this money is for Mala and me, and you’re not having it!’
Girland slowed the car, then brought it to a standstill. As he swung around in his seat, he found himself confronted by Worthington’s automatic Worthington, white faced, his eyes wild, threatened Girland with the gun.
‘Give me that document!’ Worthington said, his voice shrill and out of control. ‘We don’t want you with us! Give it to me!’
Girland stared at him then swinging around, he shoved his foot down on the accelerator.
‘Drop dead,’ he said as the car took off and began to roar down the long, dark road.
‘Stop or I’ll ... I’ll ...’ Worthington began helplessly as the car flew down the road at over 120 kilometres an hour.
‘Go ahead and shoot,’ Girland said calmly. ‘It’ll be a lovely smash.’
Listening to all this Mala lost patience.
‘Stop it. Alec! Can’t you see he is the only one who can save us! Stop behaving so stupidly!’
Worthington wilted. The cold contempt in her voice told him as nothing else could just how useless she thought him.
He returned his gun to its holster and huddled down in his seat.
Girland said, ‘Relax, pal. We all get worked up from time to time. There’ll be lots of time to arrange who gets what and who gets who.’
‘You’re not having the money!’ Worthington said weakly. ‘You may ...’
‘I told you to stop it!’ Mala cried, swinging around in her seat and waving her hands at Worthington who subsided into sullen silence.
1967 - Have This One on Me Page 10