* * *
Vi sat on the bed, her eyes round as she listened to what Labrey was saying. He was sitting in the shabby armchair, facing her, a cigarette between his nicotine-stained fingers, his eyes glittering behind the green glasses.
At first she thought he was joking, but now she realised he was serious. As he talked on, she felt a cold chill of fear crawling over her.
Paul! Working for the Russians! She had a child-like terror of anything to do with the Russians. She had seen all the James Bond films. She had adored Michael Caine in his spy films. She had read about Philby and Blake. Spies fascinated her so long as they remained on the screen or in newspapers or in books, but now Paul was telling her she was committed... suddenly she was a spy for Russia!
'I won't do it!' she said fiercely. 'I won't have anything to do with it! Take your things and get out! Now... do you hear? This very minute!'
'Oh, shut up!' Labrey said wearily. 'You're going to do what I tell you! You've only got yourself to blame for this because you have hot pants. If you had left Girland alone, you wouldn't be in this mess. Now you've got to make yourself useful.'
'Girland?' Bewildered, Vi clutched her wrap close to her 'What has he to do with this?'
'Don't be so goddamn dumb! Girland is an agent as I am. You're meeting him tonight. We want to know what he is up to and you are going to find out!'
'Then I won't meet him! A spy? Is he a spy? I'm not having anything to do with this! You pack your things and get out!'
'My boss has decided you are going to work for us,' Labrey said quietly. 'He has decided, so you will work for us or else. . .' He paused, staring at her through his green tinted glasses.
Vi shivered. The quietness of his voice was much more effective than if he had shouted at her. She was used to men shouting and getting into rages. During her short experience as a prostitute, so many men had shouted at her and she had learned how to handle them, but this quiet, deadly voice terrified her.
'Or else ... what?' she asked, her voice quavering.
'They have a technique with women who won't cooperate,' Labrey said. 'Women are easy. You can't hope to run away and hide. Sooner or later, wherever you are, they will find you. There are two things they can do: you are walking along some street and a man appears. He has a spray gun of acid. You get the acid in your face, and your flesh peels off the way you skin an orange. That is one thing they can do. The other is they grab you and shove you in a car and take you to some house they have rented. Then they do things to you. I don't know just what they do... I haven't bothered to ask, but the girls after the treatment, don't walk well.' He stared at her. "They have to keep their legs apart as they walk... so they hobble. I've heard girls prefer the acid to the other treatment...'
Vi regarded him in horror.
'I don't believe it! You're trying to frighten me!'
Labrey got to his feet.
'Think about it. Turn it over in your little mind. I'm not trying to frighten you. I'm sorry for you. You have a hook in your mouth now . . . and it won't come out. You will go to this restaurant and meet Girland tonight. You will find out what he is planning to do. If you don't find out, you will get the treatment. Nothing can save you. You can run, but they will always find you. So think about it.'
He left the sordid little room and taking the stairs three at a time, he made his way down to the street.
* * *
Girland eased open the door, leading to Mavis Paul's office and moved silently into the room. If he had hoped to catch Dorey's pretty secretary unawares, he was disappointed. She was about to enter Dorey's office and she had the door half open.
'You again?' she said with a half-smile. She stepped into Dorey's office, leaving the door wide open. 'Mr Girland is here, sir.'
'Send him right in,' Dorey said, laying down his pen and pushing aside a file.
Girland entered the big room, giving Mavis a suggestive wink which she ignored.
'Would you please do something for me?' he said pausing. 'Would you get the Alpenhoff Hotel at Garmisch on the phone for me?'
Mavis looked questioningly at Dorey who nodded.
'Right away,' she said and giving Girland a wide berth, she left the room.
Girland came over and helped himself to one of Dorey's cigarettes. He sat on the arm of the visitor's chair and lit the cigarette.
'I'm making progress. I wanted to check with you. What do you know about Ban War... an organisation?'
Dorey shrugged.
'It's like the rest of them... they have about five thousand members ... most of them young. Their headquarters is in a cellar club on the Left Bank. I'd say they are pretty harmless. They throw the occasional brick, squat in the streets, paint signs on the walls and generally enjoy themselves. They are no more violent, no more vicious than the rest of the anti-brigades.'
'Gillian Sherman is a member.' Girland went on to tell Dorey what he had learned that afternoon. 'So it would seem that Rosnold and Gillian have gone off to Garmisch. I'm catching the 07.50 flight to Munich tomorrow. From there I'll hire a car and drive to Garmisch.' He tapped ash into Dorey's ashtray. T could catch up with this girl... just what do I do with her if I do catch up with her?'
'You are to persuade her to give you the other three films and make her come back with you to Paris. You are to bring her to me. I'll then arrange for her to be sent home.'
Girland lifted his eyebrows.
'Suppose she tells me to jump into a lake ... what then?'
Dorey moved impatiently.
'This is part of your job, Girland. You are free to offer her any reasonable sum of money if she will cooperate. Sherman doesn't care what this costs so long as he gets the films and gets his daughter home.'
'Has it crossed Sherman's small mind that she might not give a damn about money?'
Dorey stiffened.
'That's no way to talk about your future President, Girland. Don't you realise this is a national emergency?'
Girland laughed.
'Oh, come on! It isn't. It's Sherman's emergency. I dare say the American public could easily find another President. But why should I care? Suppose she isn't interested in money? There are still some people who aren't interested in money . . . odd as it seems. Do you authorise me to kidnap her?'
'I am paying you twenty thousand dollars to bring this girl here and get those films! I don't wish to discuss how you will do it... do it!'
There came a tap on the door and Mavis looked in.
'I have the Alpenhoff Hotel on the line,' she said and withdrew.
Girland picked up the telephone receiver on Dorey's desk.
'Reception, please,' he said, then went on, 'Is Mr Pierre Rosnold staying with you?' He listened, then said, 'No, thank you. I just wanted to be sure he is still with you. Will you reserve a single room with bath for me for tomorrow... three or four days. Mark Girland. Fine... thank you,' and he hung up. 'He's still there,' he said to Dorey, 'and I imagine she'll be there too.'
'Can't you get off tonight?'
Girland shook his head.
'Too late tonight.' He was thinking of his date with Vi Martin. He believed in pleasure before business. 'I'll get off first thing tomorrow morning. I'll be in Munich by 9.15, pick up a Hertz car at the airport and be in Garmisch by 11.30. Can you get your secretary to book me on the 07.50 flight?'
'Of course. Your ticket will be waiting for you at the airport.'
'Then I'll get along.'
'Keep me informed and be careful.'
As Girland started for the door, Dorey said, 'There's one thing you should know... Malik is in Paris.'
This news stopped Girland in his tracks.
‘I thought he was in Moscow, standing in a corner with a dunce cap on his head.'
'He's in Paris, but he is probably standing in a corner. Knowing Kovski, he could turn Malik onto this if they really mean to make trouble for Sherman.'
'That would make this job a real beauty,' Girland said. 'Well, okay, thanks for t
elling me.'
Dorey got to his feet and walked with Girland to the door. He stood in the doorway as Girland passed Mavis who didn't look up from her typing. Aware Dorey was watching him, Girland kept on his way down to the street.
He took a taxi to Benny Slade's studio, made sure that the two guards he had hired were on the job, then he collected his car and drove back to his apartment. He didn't bother to check to see if he was being followed. The time to make sure he wasn't being followed was when he set off for Orly airport the following morning. Now, he could relax, reserve a table at Chez Garin, pack a bag, take a shower, have a couple of drinks, then stretch out on his bed until it was time to meet Vi Martin.
A few minutes to 21.00 hrs., Girland arrived at Chez Garin restaurant to be welcomed by Georges Garin who, before coming to Paris, had lived for some years in Nuits-St. Georges where the truly great Burgundy wines are born.
As Girland was settling at his table, Vi arrived. The moment he saw her approaching him, he knew something was wrong. The unnatural glitter in her eyes and her quick grimace of a smile as he got to his feet made him wonder if she wasn't loaded with pep pills. He was disappointed. There was now something about her that made her less attractive, less sexually exciting than when he had first seen her.
She further dampened his spirits by declaring she wasn't hungry. He had hoped that she would have enjoyed the decor of this gracious restaurant, but she didn't look around her so when Garin joined them, Girland explained that Mademoiselle would prefer something very light. Garin suggested his truite soufflee explaining the trout was first boned, then stuffed with the pounded flesh of a pike. The trout was cooked in butter and served with a butter sauce to which was added almonds and raisins.
Watching her, Girland saw Vi cringe as Garin explained the dish, but she said quickly it sounded marvellous and she would have it. Feeling even more depressed, Girland ordered a steak au poivre en chemise. Garin suggested a slice of smoked salmon with buttered shrimps to begin the meal.
Vi was hipped up. Terrified by Labrey's threats, she had decided to do what he told her to do. To get herself into the right mood, she had taken four Purple Heart pills before leaving her room. Their effect made her now feel light-headed, reckless but queasy. Somehow she managed to eat the smoked salmon. She prattled to Girland about Benny, her modelling work, what a gorgeous restaurant this was, about the movies she had seen in a non-stop flow that quickly got on Girland's nerves.
Well. You can't expect to pick them all the time, he thought as he toyed with his glass of Chablis. She looked marvellous. Now she was hipped to her eyeballs, and for God's sake, woman! do stop this awful yakkiting!
Suddenly aware that she was boring him and suddenly terrified that she was handing this badly, Vi pulled herself together.
'But tell me about yourself,' she gushed. ‘I want to know all about you... everything. How do you manage to live so well and not work?'
The truite soufflee and the steak au poivre arrived at this moment and Girland paused to discuss with Garin what Burgundy he should have with his steak. Having decided on a Nuits-St. Georges 1949 which knew would cost him enormously, but felt he deserved as a compensation for having being landed with this yakking girl, he turned his attention once more to her - this blonde beauty who was now overwhelming him with her gushing interest in his way of life.
'I wouldn't say I live well,' Girland said. ‘I get along. I've lived in Paris now for fifteen years. There are plenty of ways of making money here and there if you know the right people and know what to do.'
Vi pushed her trout about on her plate with her fork. She couldn't bring herself to eat it. The pills were now making her feel bad.
'That sounds marvellous.' She patted his hand and smiled at him. 'For instance, tell me, what are you doing tomorrow?'
Completely bored with her now, Girland glanced at his watch.
'This time tomorrow I will be in Garmisch,' he said. 'I have a little deal on there.'
'Garmisch? How wonderful! What kind of deal?'
Girland regarded her thoughtfully, then grinned.
'Oh, a deal. What are you doing tomorrow?'
'I'm modelling for Benny.'
Garmisch! Vi was thinking, aware that she was now feeling sick. She swallowed the rising saliva back. Garmisch! This was what Paul wanted to know! Well, at least, she had learned something. She could see Girland was disappointed in her, and she couldn't blame him. Paul had said he was an agent. She was scared to ask further questions. She could make him suspicious.
All the fun and joy had gone out of her life now. She remembered Paul's threat: You now have a hook in your mouth . . . and it won't come out. The terror that was gnawing at her had ruined her evening. She had been crazy to have taken so many of those damned pills. Now the sight of the truite soufflee suddenly turned her stomach.
She felt if she didn't get out at once, she would disgrace herself. She turned desperately to Girland, her face pallid, little beads of sweat on her upper lip.
'I'm terribly sorry ... I'm not well... I - I have this awful liver thing ... it hits me ...' She got hastily to her feet. ‘I - forgive me ... I'm so sorry ...'
Seeing her obvious distress, Girland moved quickly, taking her arm and leading her to the lobby. Garin came to his side.
'A taxi,' Girland said. 'Mademoiselle is not well.'
There was a taxi waiting by the time Vi had put on her coat.
'I want to go home alone,' she said to Girland. She couldn't take another second of his company so great was her terror.
'Thank you . . . I'm sorry...'
'But of course I'll take you home,' Girland said quietly.
Vi cried hysterically, ‘I want to go alone! Leave me alone!' Pushing past Girland, she ran out, got into the taxi and was driven away.
Girland stared after the taxi, then shrugged.
You can't win all the time, he told himself as he walked back to his table, feeling depressed. His evening had collapsed under him.
The steak au poivre had been removed and was being kept hot. The wine waiter served the Burgundy. Girland received his steak, but he now found he had lost his appetite. A gruesome evening, he thought, but cheered up slightly after drinking a glass of the magnificent wine.
Later, he left the restaurant and got into his little Fiat. He sat for a long moment wondering what to do. The time now was 21.50 hrs. He wondered if he should go to the Poker Club where the game would be in full swing, but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood, and besides, he reminded himself he would have to be up horribly early to catch the 07.50 flight to Munich. Feeling deflated, he decided to return to his apartment.
One of these days, he said to himself as he drove with the slow moving traffic, you'll have to find yourself a permanent woman. You're getting bored with looking after yourself... chasing rainbows.
He became even more gloomy with this thought until suddenly he caught sight of a blonde girl running along the sidewalk. She wore a red mini skirt and a tight-fitting white sweater. She ran easily well, and her long legs were slim and beautiful: her full breasts bounced joyfully as she ran.
Girland brightened immediately. So long as there were girls around like this one, he told himself, there must still be fun and hope left in this drab, drab world.
In a much better frame of mind, he continued on towards his apartment.
* * *
Vi lay on the bed. She was feeling better. She had only just managed to reach the toilet on the eighth floor before she had thrown up. She was now feeling relaxed, a little cold and still frightened, but better. She began to think of that delicious-looking trout left on the plate at Chez Garin and became aware she was hungry.
The door jerked open and Labrey came in. He stood in the doorway glaring at her.
'What the hell are you doing back here?' he snarled. He moved into the tiny room and slammed the door. 'Why aren't you with Girland?'
Vi cringed away from him.
‘I was ill... I did see him.
.. I took too many pills. I had to leave.'
Labrey stood over her. He looked as if he were about to hit her.
‘Ill? Didn't you find out anything, you stupid bitch?'
'Don't call me that!' Vi struggled to sit upright, but he put his hand over her face and slammed her back on the pillow.
'Answer me!'
'He told me he was going to Garmisch tomorrow.'
Labrey drew in a long, deep breath, then sat on the bed beside her. He put his hand on her arm, digging his fingers into her flesh.
'Garmisch, Germany? Are you sure?'
'How can I be sure? ... he told me he was... you're hurting me!'
'What happened? Tell me everything!'
As he released the grip on her arm, Vi recounted the meeting at the restaurant and what was said.
Labrey considered what she had told him, then got to his feet. 'All right. Stay here. I must telephone.'
'But I'm hungry,' Vi wailed.
'Then come with me. I want to eat too.'
As Vi struggled off the bed, she asked, 'Have I done right? Are you pleased with me?'
He suddenly smiled at her. The hateful, savage expression went off his face and he was again the Paul she knew.
'You've done damn well... at least, I think so. Come on, let's get out of here.'
At the bistro on Rue Lekain, Labrey left her to order the meal while he shut himself into the telephone booth. He got through to the Soviet Embassy and asked for Malik. Although it was now 21.30 hrs., Malik was still at his desk, plodding through the mass of paper work Kovski had left him.
Labrey reported that Girland was going to Garmisch the following morning.
'Hold on,' Malik said. There was a long pause, then he came back on the line. 'There is only one morning flight to Munich at 07.50. The next flight is at 14.00 hrs. Girland will take the first flight. You are to travel with him. Find out where he is staying. Be careful. This man is very dangerous. I will follow on the next flight. Girland knows me. I can't travel with him. I will wait for you at the Garmisch railway station. Do you understand?'
'Yes.'
'Your girl is to come with me... she might be useful. Tell her to be at Orly airport at 01.15 hrs. How will I know her?'
1969 - The Whiff of Money Page 8