A Woman Involved (22 page)

Carrington studied his pipe. Then put it between his teeth. ‘Or else what?’

‘Or else, apart from breaking your neck, we’ll blow this
shameful
story sky-high!’

Carrington snatched his pipe out of his mouth. ‘
Jack
,’ he implored – ‘I am here on a diplo
matic
mission, and my
gorillas,
as you quaintly call them, are not here to rob you, but to
protect
you – as we leave this bank. From the
Russians,
Jack.’

Morgan stared at him. So did Anna. Carrington hurried on with his advantage: ‘The KGB –’ he pointed in the direction of the street – ‘are also waiting outside, Jack.’

Morgan snapped: ‘How would they know we’re here?’

‘I don’t know – they haven’t taken me into their confidence. Perhaps they knew that this was one of Mr Hapsburg’s banks. Or perhaps they’ve been following
me
.’

‘Have you seen them outside?’

‘Do you know,’ Carrington turned to Anna, ‘that a member of the Russian embassy visited your house only hours after your husband was killed?’

‘No,’ Morgan snapped before Anna could answer. His heart was knocking. ‘What makes you think so?’

Carrington looked at Anna significantly. Then at Morgan.

‘Fresh tyre marks, on the drive outside the front door. And bloodstains. And fingerprints.’ He raised his eyebrows: ‘The tyre marks matched exactly the tyres of a Russian vehicle found in town nearby. With a dead Russian in it. His blood group matched that of bloodstains found in Mrs Hapsburg’s bathroom. So were his
fingerprints
to be found. And …’ he raised his eyebrows again, ‘Mrs Hapsburg’s fingerprints – or what we
believe
to be Mrs Hapsburg’s, because they are to be found on things like her hairbrush – were found in the dead Russian’s car.’

Anna was staring at him, white-faced. ‘I know nothing about all that!’

‘I’m sure you don’t, ‘dear lady.’ Carrington gave a little bow. ‘But, of course, our Red friends are rather upset about losing such a promising member of their diplomatic corps. And once the dust settles in Grenada there’re bound to be all kinds of investigations. And –’ he frowned wearily – ‘
complaints.
Of course, one dead Russian is neither here nor there – the more the better, some heartless souls may say – but of course, the Americans
do
have this evidence and they must be
seen
to do the right thing if there’s an official Russian complaint about their awful dead comrade. They can’t have the Russians accusing the American soldiery of doing it, can they? Besides –’ he glanced at his pipe – ‘the ballistic evidence shows that the poor man was killed with a shot fired from a weapon which is
not
standard US military equipment.’ He glanced at Anna. ‘It could have been fired from a Smith and Wesson. And I believe your husband had such a weapon? A firearm licence to that effect was found in your house.’

Anna started to protest and Morgan cut in furiously: ‘
Have you seen Russians waiting outside?
’

Carrington turned to him. ‘Yes. We expected nothing less. Nor did you. That’s why you got Dougie Makepeace over here. But’ – he shook his head – ‘you haven’t got enough manpower, Jack. So I urge you to accept our safe-conduct. And come with us to a place of safety. Where we can discuss all this sensibly.’

‘
Well we’re not going!
’ Anna snapped.

Morgan squeezed her arm. ‘Where’s this place of safety?’

‘The British consulate.’

‘Good. So send your gorillas to sort out the KGB gorillas on our behalf. And Her Majesty’s.’

Carrington shook his head patiently. ‘We can’t attack them unprovoked, old man. And the KGB men are dotted all over the place. There’s doubtless more. The Comrades aren’t short of muscle.’

‘You’ve got a walkie-talkie radio on you, haven’t you?’

‘Yes.’

Morgan squeezed Anna’s arm to silence her. ‘Okay. It’s a deal.’ He pointed. ‘We’re going downstairs. And you’re going to radio your gorillas, and tell them we’re coming out.’ He took a breath. ‘And all of us here are going to walk out of this bank together. And your gorillas are going to hold off the Comrades. Correct?’

‘Correct,’ Carrington said earnestly.

‘And then
you
,’ Morgan jabbed the man’s chest, ‘are coming with
us
to
our
car. Not to yours – to
ours.
Because
you
–’ he jabbed again – ‘are going to drive with us to the British consulate.
You
are going to be our hostage for the course of that journey. Is that agreed?’

Carrington’s eyes did not flicker.

‘Agreed,’ He added: ‘I come in peace.’

‘You’d better be, Carrington. Or you’ll go in pieces.’ He glared: ‘Okay. Now go.’

Carrington turned towards the door.

They came out of the bank, into the cold grey afternoon.

Makepeace was walking in front with Carrington; Anna was behind them, then came Morgan. He swept his eyes up and down the street. There were people hurrying in all directions. He saw only one man standing still, studying a street map. A taxi was waiting at the kerb. Further down, a dispatch rider sat on a motorcycle. Further down the block was another stationary taxi. Makepeace and Carrington turned towards the post office. Spider’s car was parked there, the engine running. Morgan glanced over his shoulder. Nobody was immediately behind them. ‘Fast!’

They lengthened their stride. Ahead now was the corner of Church Street. ‘Give that corner a wide berth!’

Makepeace began to steer wide of it. Morgan glanced behind again. He saw two men busily striding up behind him, as if hurrying to catch a train. Two more men were behind them. He shouted ‘
Watch out
–’ and a man charged around the corner. Morgan grabbed Anna’s arm, and ran.

He looked wildly over his shoulder and he saw a man racing at Anna. He swung at him, and another man hit Morgan and he went staggering backwards and the man hit him again. In the guts, and he saw another fist swinging at him again and then suddenly the man disappeared, reeling, as one of Carrington’s men got him, and Morgan saw Anna being wrenched to her feet. He charged towards her, but Carrington got there first, and he hit her attacker with a karate chop. The man collapsed, and Anna scrambled up wildly, hair awry, and somebody else got Morgan. It was a glancing blow, and Morgan swung on him with all his might, for the guts, and the man crumpled. Morgan looked wildly for Anna and he saw Makepeace running with her across Church Street, Carrington plunging after them. He started to run and somebody tripped him and he sprawled. He started to scramble up and somebody grabbed his arm and wrenched it up behind his back – then
suddenly his attacker collapsed, and a Cockney voice rasped
Run, sir!

Morgan scrambled up and ran flat out across Church Street for the car. Anna was scrambling into the front seat and Makepeace was shoving Carrington into the back. The car was already moving, the engine roaring. Morgan flung himself into the back beside Carrington.

‘Go!’

He slammed the door as Spider swung the car out. It roared at the intersection and the lights were mercifully green. Suddenly there was the wailing of a police siren. Outside the bank men were racing in different directions, people shouting. Spider roared the car into the intersection and Morgan saw the blue flashing police light midst the traffic a hundred yards away on the left. He looked the other way and saw one of the taxis lurch away from the kerb. Then the intersection was behind them in a jumbled flashing of people and lights and cars. Carrington panted:

‘Well done, chaps.’
He had a cut over his eye and his hair was awry. ‘
Now
do you believe me, Jack?’

Morgan rasped at Makepeace, ‘
Blindfold him.
’ He looked out of the rear window.

‘I beg your pardon? …’ Carrington panted indignantly.

‘Blindfold him! With his monogrammed handkerchief! And tie his hands behind his back with his tie.’

‘
Now, listen here
–’

Morgan snatched Carrington’s handkerchief out of his top pocket. He grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved his head down. He shoved the handkerchief at Makepeace. ‘
Do it!
’ He twisted and looked back out of the rear window again.

‘
Now dammit, Jack –
’

The car was screaming down the road at fifty miles an hour, with cars swerving and people scattering. He saw the yellow taxi come swinging furiously into the intersection behind, then the police car doing the same from the opposite direction. And he saw them collide. There was a silent crash and the front of both vehicles rose into the air midst flying glass, and they crashed down onto their wheels again. Then another taxi came swerving around them, followed by the dispatch rider on the motorcycle.

‘
Faster!
’

The next intersection flashed by, cars and people scattering. Makepeace was tying the knot behind Carrington’s head. ‘
I say
–’ Carrington was protesting.

Morgan wrenched the tie off Carrington’s neck. ‘Wrists!’

‘
I say,
’ Carrington muffled ‘–
this is a felony –
’

‘You don’t say!’ Morgan rasped. ‘
Faster!
’ he snapped at Spider.

The car screamed down the block and the lights at the intersection turned red. Spider slammed his hand on the horn and trod harder on the accelerator. Cars began to enter the intersection from the south. Spider swung in ahead of them, the car heeling over and tyres squealing. He straightened out and went roaring up Third Avenue.

‘Next right again,’ Morgan rasped. He looked back feverishly. The traffic was crossing the intersection in a solid phalanx, but the motorcycle swung in amongst them and came roaring after him.

‘Only the motorbike.’ Then the taxi appeared, swinging into the intersection against the light. ‘
Oh Jesus – faster
–’ Spider roared up Third Avenue. The lights at the next intersection were green. Spider swung into it, tyres squealing and his horn blasting; the car heeled across the intersection, then levelled off, rocking, and went screaming towards Second Avenue. Morgan looked back. The motorcycle swung out of the intersection into the road behind them. The light ahead was amber and Spider slammed his hand on the horn. The motorcycle was two hundred yards behind them, then the taxi swung into the road behind it. Spider went screaming at the red light, his hand on the horn and he roared straight into the intersection. There was a solid row of cars to their left coming at them, and Spider burst through the other side. Morgan looked back and he saw the motorbike skidding to a stop. ‘
Good!
’ Spider went roaring on towards First Avenue.

‘Who are those guys – British or Russian?’

‘
We,
’ Carrington said, blindfolded, ‘did not employ a motorcycle. Jack, this is kidnap –’

‘
That’s how Mrs Hapsburg felt about it!
’

The car screamed towards the next intersection, and the light
was red. Cars were racing north up First Avenue. Ahead was a truck. Spider slammed on his horn and swung out to overtake it. He roared past the side of it, and a man dashed across the road, and Spider swerved inwards and his fender crashed the truck. There was a screech of metal and flying sparks and Spider swung away. He roared past the truck, into the intersection, and swung left, cars wildly swerving out of his way. Morgan looked back. And saw the motorcyclist roaring into the intersection back there.

It started to rain.

Spider swung into the side-street, the car heeling over. Halfway down was the multi-storeyed car park. He slammed on his brakes and swung into the entrance. He rocked to a stop at the barrier. He leant out and snatched the ticket. The automatic boom went up and he roared the car forward. As it disappeared up into the building the motorcyclist came screeching round the corner into the side-street.

The cyclist saw the car disappearing into the building and skidded to a halt. The taxi swung into the street, and braked hard at the car park. The back doors burst open and two men scrambled out. They ran to the exit of the car park, and the taxi roared forward into the entrance and the driver snatched a ticket and went up the ramp into the dark.

Spider swung around the corner, up onto the third level, as the taxi swung onto the first level.

There were cars parked on each side in the gloom. The taxi drove slowly down the avenue, the two Russians peering at the cars. It came to the end; then it roared up the next ramp, to the second level.

Spider drove hard up the ramp and swung onto the fourth level, and there was the other rented car. He slammed on the brakes and Morgan and Anna scrambled out. They ran to the other car. Morgan started the engine. Makepeace was hauling Carrington out, saying ‘Sorry, sir …’ He hustled him towards the second car. Morgan was reversing out. He braked and Makepeace flung open the door and shoved Carrington in. He got in after him. Spider roared the first car into the vacant parking space, scrambled out and flung himself at the back
door of the new car. As he slammed the door the taxi was approaching the end of the third level. Morgan roared away towards the exit ramp. ‘
Heads down everybody!
’

He swung down onto the ramp. The headlights of the taxi were coming up to the fourth level. Morgan’s taillights disappeared down. The taxi swung onto the level. It began to proceed slowly down the avenue of cars. Then it braked.

Morgan sped along the third level, then swung down the next ramp. He surged down the second level, then swung down the last ramp. Straight ahead down there was the street, the cashier’s kiosk. A Russian was standing just inside the exit, pretending to read a newspaper. ‘Keep your heads down!’ Morgan stopped at the barrier and held out his ticket and five dollars. The Russian looked at the car, then returned to his newspaper. The boom went up.

Morgan rolled the car down the ramp. Out into the rain. He swung the wheel, and he drove away down the street.

He looked in his rear-view mirror. No Russian was to be seen. Only the motorcyle standing by the kerb.

He slowed at the intersection, then turned left, northwards into First Avenue. ‘Keep your heads down.’