you think of that?”
“Not much,” I said. “But who knows? It may come in handy some day
having my own devoted obstetrical service standing by.”
“Perhaps even sooner than you think,” said Bianca, smiling.
That smile —?
“I don’t believe it,” I said. “Signorina, there is a marvelous device in the
form of a pill —”
”Yes, of course. And no, I’m not using it.”
“Bianca.”
“You can stop looking so reproachful, David. There are devices men
can use. If you so object to fathering our child, why didn’t you take measures
against it? Why assume I would? I have no such objections.”
I was trying to come up with a sane and suitable response when Costello
walked in. He was disheveled, a little unsteady on his feet, and triumphant.
“Yves turned up,” I said.
230
“No. The agency just reported that One-eye’s car is rented to a company
works out of Rome. A tobacco and produce factor. Does that ring any bells?”
“No.”
“The company name is Periniades and Souloukis.”
“Milos,” I said.
“That’s right,” said Costello. “His rental car, his hit man, his contract. It
looks like your grandpa’s ten million really got to him, didn’t it? He knows
your dumb-as-hell mama is next in line for it if you kick off, and he’ll be right
there to spend it for her.”
“Milos,” Bianca said. “But of course. When I told your mother I would
come to Paris to see you he must have known it at once. He could count on me
to lead that murderous little man right to you. Horrible! But, David, what
happens to your mother now when she learns about this?”
Costello nodded grimly. “That’s a fact, Davey. I can take care of him
easy, but breaking the news to her —”
”How do you take care of him?” I said. “That comes first.”
“I’ve got that file about his payoffs and kickbacks to top people in the
government there. I just tell him over the phone that either he gets One-eye off
your back fast or that stuff goes right to the newspapers. So that leaves mama.
How do you get her to walk out on him without letting her know why she has
to?”
“I don’t see why she has to,” I said.
“You mean,” said Bianca, “you would let her remain with him even after
you know what he is capable of?”
“She’s in no danger from him. And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt
her. Breaking up the marriage would. At her age and weight, she’s not likely to
find a replacement for him very easily.”
“David —!”
“Basta, signorina. Remember your vows.”
She looked stormy. She looked guilty. She remembered her vows.
I spent the rest of the day in Costello’s room, starting every time the
phone rang, and it rang regularly as the agency men kept reporting in turn. Even
traveling from Dijon to Paris by donkey, Yves should have reached here by
nightfall if this was his destination, but according to the men on the job, no one
of his description had come near any of the territories they had staked out.
231
Late in the evening Bianca and I dined out at her insistence — anything,
she said, to bring me out of my mood — and then, with Harry trailing close
behind us in the car, we walked back to the hotel under the streetlights. We
found Costello asleep, the phone planted on the pillow beside him. “Poor
man,” whispered Bianca. “Caught in someone else’s nightmare.”
Costello opened his eyes and focused them on me with an effort. “Any
sign of One-eye?”
I shook my head.
“Figures. I finally got through to Mister Peritonitis in Rome and scared
the hell out of him. Told him I knew what was going on and to get his little pal
off your back right now, or else. He made a noise about not understanding
what I was talking about, but he understood all right. Especially after I
reminded him about those files. So that takes care of that.”
“Anything from the agency?”
“Nothing. You still think Frenchy’ll turn up in town here?”
“If he doesn’t,” I said, “we’re down to that phone call Marie-Paule
promised to make. And if she doesn’t make it, we’re nowhere.”
“You said it,” Costello remarked. “I didn’t.”
There was no finding sleep for me that night for a long time, and I was
aware, from the occasional tuggings of blanket and poundings of pillow on the
far side of the bed, that Bianca was also having trouble in this direction. At
last, just as I was slipping into unconsciousness, her voice penetrated it.
“David, if it works out as you hope it will — if Yves leads you to Kees Baar
— would you really kill him?”
“Yes.”
“But I don’t want you to! I don’t want you to kill anybody!”
“I haven’t yet.”
“I don’t even like the way you say that. Look, if nothing happens by
tomorrow, would you do me a favor? Would you come to Rome with me?”
“Bellezza, if you’re planning to reunite me with my mother—”
”No. It’s the clinic. Its business affairs are always in a tangle. Everyone
means well there, but no one seems able to take charge. You have the right to
do that now. They’d be glad if you did it.”
“I have other plans,” I said. “When they’re attended to I’ll consider your
offer. Now good night and pleasant dreams.”
“Pleasant dreams?” she said. “That’s as bad a joke as I’ve ever heard.”
232
Iopened my eyes to see Harry tiptoeing
around the room closing windows. Another downpour. I said to him, “Miss
Hansen and the others make their plane in time?”
“Yes, sir. Three hours ago. Breakfast in bed, sir?”
“No, I’ll have it in Mr. Costello’s room. Let Miss Cavalcanti sleep.
And, Harry, if she goes out, stay very close to her whether she uses the car or
not.”
She didn’t leave the hotel but later showed up in Costello’s room to
spell me at my waiting and, finally, to order me out of that fog of cigar smoke
for a breath of fresh air and a chance to stretch my legs. I was stretching my
legs, quickstep, back and forth across the sitting room when I heard voices
raised next door. I hastened in. Bianca was clutching Costello’s arm. Costello,
trying not to do any damage, was making an effort to detach himself. He said to
me, “I told her to get you in here, but she said no, not to bother you. Bother
you, hell!”
“About what?” I said.
“The phone call you’ve been waiting for. Frenchy’s back in town.”
Bianca released his arm. She said pleadingly to me, “It does not mean
Baar will come here too, does it?”
I disregarded this. I said to Costello, “Where is Yves?”
“Look,” he said, “let me tell it the way it happened. Schefflin, the agency
guy, is staked out across the street from Choochoo’s. This morning he sees
Marie walk in there. A little later, along comes a priest and what looks to be a
doctor, little black bag and all, and they go inside.”
“Yves and Baar together?”
“Just listen. They go inside. An hour later, out comes the priest, and right
after him all the girls carrying suitcases and such. And the two guys who tend
the place. But no doctor and no Marie. This time Schefflin gets a good look at
the priest, and he’s legitimate all right, runs the church around the corner. As
for the girls, they all head off one way and another.
“But one of them is our contact there, Avril, so Schefflin takes off after
her. When he gets her alone she tells him the old lady is almost done for, that’s
why the priest and the doctor. And no, she never saw that doctor before. He
233
asks her to describe him, and she says kind of chubby, neat little mustache,
slick black hair. Frenchy, all right. As for everybody being cleared out of the
place, it seems Marie told them that with the old lady on her death bed the
shop would be closed for a couple of days.”
I said, “Leaving Yves holed up there waiting for Baar to show.”
“Right. And don’t forget Marie’s in there too. If the Dutchman wants to
wipe out both of them together —”
The phone rang. I got to it a step ahead of Costello.
“Mr. Shaw?”
“Yes, Miss Neyna.”
Costello whispered, “Right on schedule.” When he picked up the
extension phone Marie-Paule said sharply, “What is that?”
“My partner wants to hear this too, Miss Neyna. I assure you the call is
not being recorded. For obvious reasons, my agency does not want any of this
on the record.”
“Understandable. Mr. Shaw, I have been in communication with Kees
Baar.” The voice was emotionless. “I have given him your message.”
“You convinced him of my official status?”
“As an agent of the CIA? Yes. So he is now willing — but entirely on
his own terms — to meet with you and explain the events surrounding van
Zee’s death.”
“And his terms?”
“A train to Luxembourg leaves the Gare du Nord at five minutes past
two. You will be on it, traveling first class. Kees will join you in your
compartment some time before you arrive at Luxembourg. In Luxembourg he
will provide a car, and the two of you will view the scene of the accident
together. Is that satisfactory?”
“If the trip can be postponed a day or two, yes.”
“No. Kees will board that train whether you are on it or not. If you are
not, he will regard it as a breach of faith, and that will be the end of it as far as
he is concerned. He put it very simply, Mr. Shaw. Today or never.”
“All right, Miss Neyna, I’ll be on the train. He won’t have any trouble
recognizing me?”
“None. Good journey, Mr. Shaw.”
That was it.
234
“Hell,” said Costello. “Him buying that CIA story? Inviting you to get
close to him? That’s not the Dutchman’s style, Davey.”
“No, but trying to get me out of town is. They don’t know we’ve spotted
Yves walking into Chouchoute’s, but they do know we’ve been watching the
place. Steer me away from it for a day, and that’ll give Baar enough time to
settle with Yves and then take off.”
“So,” said Costello heavily, “it’s today.”
“Please, David,” Bianca said, “I heard nothing of what she told you.
What was it?”
“A trick to get me away while Kees Baar attends to Yves. A little train
ride to nowhere.”
“Oh.” Then her jaw set. “But how do you know it was a trick? I think it
is better to believe her. If we all went together on that train —”
”A nice try,” I told her, “but I’m not going on any trains. I am now going
to visit some old friends at a former place of employment. Alone.”
“No! David, understand one thing. If you do this, I leave for Rome at
once. I will not wait here for the police to come tell me the terrible thing that
happened to you. Or the terrible thing you did.”
I said, “You’ll do as you’re told. While I’m gone you will remain here
with Signor Costello and Harry and with the doors locked.” I turned to
Costello. “You heard that, Ray. She’s to stay here, whatever it takes. She’s
not to get near any phone either. Let Harry know that too.”
“Look,” Costello said, “in one way she’s right. How do you even figure
to get in there?”
“You’re forgetting that Jean Lespere knows that territory inside and out.
Don’t you worry about it. He’ll get in.”
“Madman!” Bianca said. She was almost through the door when I caught
up to her. I clamped a hand on her shoulder and wheeled her around to face
me. “No,” I said, “there’s to be no calls to the police. Or anyone else.”
“How clever you are at reading minds,” she said with contempt. Then in
Italian, “You’re hurting me, do you know that? But what does that matter?
You’d kill anyone who stood in your way now, wouldn’t you?”
“Behave yourself,” I said. I flung her down on the bed and not trusting
her at all I kept an eye on her as I said to Costello, “In London, you told me
you’d get another gun to make up for the one you had to junk. Let’s have it.”
235
He went over to the locked drawer of his desk, scrabbled in back of it,
and came up with a holstered pistol. He drew it from the holster. “You sure
you know how to handle this thing?”
“Yes.” I reached for it, but he shoved it into his pocket and said, “Better
if I’m the one carting it around meanwhile. At least I’m licensed for it in the
States.”
It took me a moment to understand what this meant. Then I said harshly,
“I’m not walking in there, Ray. I’m climbing in. And if you don’t mind my
saying so, you’re too fat and out of shape for exercise like that.”
He looked totally bulldog. “I mind your saying so. It doesn’t change
anything. And if you want to find out how out of shape I am, you can take the
first punch right now. Only remember I’m not the kind of soft touch you just
manhandled onto the bed there. You could be in for a surprise.”
“Ray, your part of the job is finished.”
He shook his head grimly. “Wherever your grandpa is right now, Davey
— and most likely he’s up to his neck in red-hot coals — he wouldn’t go along
with that, so neither can I. You figure on being locked up in there with Frenchy
when the Dutchman walks in, don’t you? Well, even counting Marie out that
still makes it two against one. Two against two is a lot smarter odds.”
I was wasting time with this.
“All right,” I said, “get Harry in here and give him his orders about the
lady. Tell him to sit on her if he has to. And the way it is outside, you’ll need a
raincoat.”
Bianca stood watching in silence, fists clenched at her sides, as I
changed into jeans and sneakers and found what I hoped was a waterproof
jacket among the stock in my closet.
“Goodbye, David,” she said when I was at the door.
“Arrivederci, cara mia.”
“No,” she said. “It’s good-by, cara mia. Very much good-by.”
236
Le Chat Louche, half a block dow
n rue
Houdon from Chouchoute’s, was one of those dismal cafés where I had served
as kitchen hand ten years before. As dismal as ever now when I led Costello
into it, it offered one advantage. The small-time hustlers and big talkers at its
greasy tables were too street-wise to display interest in any pair of toughlooking
strangers who strode purposefully past them.
Costello followed close behind as I headed through the smoky kitchen in
back — the chef there didn’t even turn from his stove to glance at us — and
then we were in the cul-de-sac behind the cafe, only partly sheltered from the
downpour by the overhang of the fire escape.
There was a stench of rotting garbage here from the cans lined up against
the wall — my nose must have grown sensitive over the years — and I had to
hold my breath as I dragged one under the drop-ladder of the fire escape and
climbed on it. Now I could grasp the bottom rung of the ladder and hoist
myself up. I climbed to the first landing, unhooked the ladder and lowered it to
the ground for Costello’s easy use.
When he joined me on the landing we pulled the ladder up and latched it
in place again, then climbed three more flights of slippery fire escape to the
roof of the building. Here Costello got a full view of the steeply pitched,
coppery-green mansard roofs and the thicket of chimney pots that marked the
course ahead, a course that wouldn’t be made any less tricky by the rain water
sheeting down those slopes. “Crazy bastard,” he said under his breath, and I
had a feeling it was as much a judgment on himself as me.
I said, “No sweat, if you plant your hands against the slope and inch your
way along. Just don’t put your weight on one of those rain gutters because they
can go right out from under.”
In this fashion, inch by inch, we made our way across the roof to the next
one, where the pitch was even steeper. Costello’s dress shoes weren’t made
for this combination of mountain climbing and water-skiing. I saw him slip,
then, as his foot went into the gutter and knocked it loose, he let out a yell and
started sliding after it. I managed to get a grip on his coat collar before he was
completely gone, and between the two of us he was hauled back to safety. He
237
lay there cursing softly between gasping breaths, then said angrily, “What the
hell are you waiting for? We can drown here like this.”
The Luxembourg Run Page 27