Assignment Madeleine (15 page)

Jane looked up and walked over to him.

“What are we going to do? We can’t stay here, can we?”

“We’re going to have to walk out of it. Can you make it?”

“Back to Marbruk?”

“That’s twenty miles,” he said. “I doubt if we’d last. No,
we can go on to Baroumi. It’s a little village not too far ahead. I was there
once, as a matter of fact, during the war.” Durell paused. “If we’re lucky, we
might find a car or jeep we could use.”

“But the guerrillas might be there, too,” she objected.

There was still a trace of shock and confusion in her eyes,
but her voice was steady, almost defiant. “What do we do then?"

“We’ll hide out and try to steal something without getting
caught.” He smile at her and saw her mouth lift in response. It was only a
small sign, but it gave him more confidence in her. “Do you think you can
walk ten kilometers?”

“Yes, I can do it,” she said.

“Better stay with your husband while we’re hiking,” Durell said.
“He can cover you if something breaks wrong.”

“He doesn’t want me near him. Nothing happened, you know,
but he thinks it was my fault.”

“He’ll get over it. You’ll have to help each other. I’m counting
on Chet to keep an eye on L’Heureux from here on out. Each of you will have to
carry something, too. Water, the thermos jugs, the knapsack.” Durell turned.
“Madeleine?”

“I am here,” the redheaded girl said. “I understand what is
needed.”

He met her topaz eyes. Hostility had died in them. She knew
what they faced. The distance didn’t seem too much, perhaps a three-or
four-hour hike. But across this wasteland, the road could seem infinite.

“Did you know about Talek?” he asked.

“No. Not that.”

“How soon do you think the rebels will come back for us?” He
was curious to know what her thoughts might be.

‘Perhaps they will not come here at all,” Madeleine said. “They
may leave it to the sun and the desert to do their work for them.”

“Maybe. What do you know about Baroumi?”

“I have never been there.”

“Let’s hope you get a look at it today.”

She looked down at her feet and drew a deep breath. She
seemed to be having trouble meeting Durell’s eyes. “I know something about the
place, though.” The hot, scorching wind blew her red hair. Her face looked
pale, shining with perspiration. Her Paris glamor had worn off, along with the
brittle sophistication she had exhibited when they first met. Something
much more elemental lurked under her smooth, tawny flesh as she walked around
the truck with him. “Charley has been to Baroumi," she said suddenly.

“How do you know?”

“He spoke it earlier. It is where he would like to go. That
is why you let me steal the handcuff keys from you, is it not? So you could
track him while he imagined he was escaping. Well, that isn’t necessary now.
You see, I am being honest with you. He wants to go to Baroumi.”

“Why?” Durell asked. “What’s there for him?”

“It is the money,” she said flatly. Her voice was
lacking in spirit all at once. “You know about it. Why play games with me? You
are more clever than I can ever hope to be. And better than Charley in this
business. I can see that now.”

Durell studied the girl’s face, then looked at Jane. Jane
was watching L’Heureux, still sprawled in the shade cast by the disabled truck.

Madeleine’s voice shook slightly. “Charley tried to take Jane
with him, didn’t he? He has me, but I am not enough. He is so sure of me, so
confident that I will help him and do anything and ask no questions. He
thinks I will always accept the crumbs he cares to throw my way. He thinks he
knows me, you see. But he is mistaken. He doesn’t know me at all. You and I,
Durell, are much more alike. We understand each other, you and I. And you have
no illusions about me, which is a better basis for understanding than Charley’s
attitude toward women.

“You knew what L’Heureux was like when you sold out to him,”
Durell said. “You crossed Brumont and the
Deuxieme
Bureau when they assigned you to work on him. You said you were in love with
L’Heureux.”

“I know nothing about love,” she said curtly. “You Americans
are much too romantic. I know all about men, but I know nothing of love. It
does not exist. Passion, yes. I know what it is to want someone. But this is
not love. And Charley has never loved me.”

“You tried to help him escape."

“I was willing to help him up to that point, yes. Because it
was really for myself that I did these things. But he threw away his chance
because of a pretty face And a new figure. He doesn’t fool me by saying
he was suspicious of your intentions. It was that lane. His conceit is
limitless. He thinks I will accept his foolish mistake and forget about it and
humbly creep back to him when he crooks his little finger for me. But he
is mistaken."

“Tell me about the money,” Durell said. “Do you think it’s
in Baroumi?”

“I am sure of it.”

“Where can it be found?”

Her eyes were pale gold, narrowed against the hot sunshine.
“First tell me why you are here in Algeria. What happens here should be of no
concern to Americans. There is an honest movement here toward freedom. We want
to be equal with others in the world. Who are you to condemn it and work
against it?”

“We don’t condemn. We don’t act for or against it,” Durell
said. “I’m here to take a murderer back to justice. The fact that he happens to
have been your lover is not my business. Your own foolishness tied your fate to
his, Madeleine. If he happens to have the morals and lusts of an alley cat,
that too is your problem, not mine.”

“I want to help you,” she said suddenly.

“Because you're angry with Charley now? You’ll get over
that, I think,” Durell said.

She shook her head. “No, you do not understand. I know the
truth now. I know it was only a dream, an illusion, this plan I had with
Charley. We were going to take the money and go to South America with it. It is
what I have always dreamed of. But now I know what would really happen if we
were successful. He would leave me. Perhaps he would kill me. The first pretty
woman to come along would make him throw me aside.” Madeleine’s voice caught,
“I was a fool to think I could control a man like Charley. Some men are easy,
but others, I have learned, are best avoided. Perhaps I wanted to believe that
it would be all right with Charley. But I know better now. I saw how he looked
at Jane. I know he has no more use for me. I am an expel‘: on how men think, Durell.
I am not wrong.”

“So now you turn against him.”

She shrugged. “What would you have me do? I hope to salvage
what I can. Perhaps you will help me when you see Brumont again."

“How long will your feeling last?” he asked. “How long can I
trust you?”

“You will have to take your chances with that. I am not
lying to you now. You want to know where the money is?”

“Do you know?”

“Of course. It is in a well somewhere in the vicinity of the
house of the parents of Hadji el-Abri.”

Durell stared at her. “They live in Baroumi. I know that.
But I don’t believe el-Abri is in on the scheme of those who want to use the
money to prolong the war here.”

“He is not. He knows nothing about it. He may suspect the
money is in Baroumi, but Charley fooled him by putting the money so close to
his own home. You’ll find the money there. You can be sure of that.”

Durell looked up at Jane and Chet Larkin. Chet had strapped
the knapsack of food to his back, and Jane was carrying the water thermos. They
were ready to move out.

He ordered L’Heureux to walk about ten paces ahead. The
prisoner objected that it was too difficult for him to walk with his
hands tied behind his back, but Durell did not change the arrangement.

They followed the main road bearing away to the right. It
was ten o’clock when they set out, and the sun was already intolerable. Durell
ordered them all oil the road for a distance of about a hundred yards and they walked
parallel to it. Sometimes it was in sight, but most often not. Nothing stirred
or seemed to live in the rocky wilderness.

There was no talking among them. Just the effort to keep
breathing and walking took all their concentration. The air was like the
exhaust from a blast furnace. The heat scorched their mouths and lips and
throats and left their lungs gasping for coolness. Thirst came quickly. Durell
kept his eyes on L’Heureux. The prisoners massive figure moved with a
long, awkward stride, his hands behind his back. L'Heureux seemed to be totally
unaware of the heat and the wasteland they crossed.

The terrain dipped and rose, dipped and rose again.

They were climbing gradually. Here and there were patches of
blinding sand, like shimmering pools caught in the arms of wind-hewn rock. The
highway was empty every time Durell glimpsed it. It reached from horizon to
horizon, the long line of telephone poles marching parallel to it, going
nowhere, coming from nowhere.

It came to him that this was the way the end of the world
might look. A scorched, lifeless, rocky emptiness, with only a few straggling,
hopeless survivors wandering aimlessly in search of something that would never be
again. He shook off the image.

They walked on. Once he paused when he saw the copper lines
dangling uselessly from the insulators on the power poles. They saw two more
places where communications had been cut by the rebels. In some stretches, the
wire itself had been totally removed.

After half an hour, Durell called a ten-minute halt. L’Heureux
leaned easily against the rocky face of a small cliff that offered some dubious
shade. His heavy face was sardonic, his pale eyes fixed on Durell.

“They won’t ever make it, chum. Just look at ’
em
.”

Durell saw that Jane Larkin was already in unpromising
shape. Her hair was disheveled and her face looked sunken, shining and pale.
Her mouth was open as she breathed tumultuously. She sank down to the ground as
if she never intended to get up again.

Madeleine was only a little better. Chet sat leaning forward,
the carbine between his knees, the muzzle pointed at the brassy sky. His eyes
were fixed on his wife with a curious mixture of hunger and rejection.

“They’ll make it,” Durell said.

“We’ve only covered about two kilometers.”

“We have all day.”

“We walk into Baroumi like this, and we’re just meat for the
buzzards, you know that?”

“We’ll see.”

Durell passed the thermos of water around. He kept the
container of water, slinging it over his shoulder by the canvas straps. It
already weighed too much for Jane Larkin to continue to carry it.

When the ten minutes were up, he ordered them to their feet.
They stood in a straggling, silent, and reluctant group. He knew that at the
next stop it would be more difficult to get them going again, and the one after
that might prove impossible.

He walked beside the prisoner for a short time.

“Durell, you’re a fool,” L’Heureux said. “You should have
stayed with the truck.”

“And let Talek bring your murdering friends down on us.

“I don’t know anything about that gook.”

“On the other hand,” Durell said, “he might be one of
el-Abri’s men. In that case, you ought to be glad to get away from that spot.”

“I’ve got nothing to worry about,” L’Heureux said. His
glance was bold. “I told you, I'm an innocent man. You’re the lad who’s in a
tough spot. You took on the responsibility of them two babes in the wood from
the States. They’re both helpless and hopeless. They’ll only hold you back. And
Madeleine is on my side. I know she’s sore at me, but don’t count on that to
help you. She’ll do what I tell her, when I get around to it.’

“I doubt that.”

L’Heureux laughed softly. “You hate my guts, huh?”

“Yes, I do.”

“But you’ve got to take care of me, Durell. You’ve got to
make sure I get back home alive, huh?”

“I’ll get you there.”

“But all the odds are on my side.” The prisoner moved his
head in a gesture that encompassed the bleak, sun-blasted landscape. “You can’t
kill me, but I’ve got nothing holding me back when it comes to taking care of
you.”

“Do you still think you’ve got a chance to get away with
that money?” Durell asked suddenly.

L’Heureux broke his long, rhythmic stride momentarily. He
laughed. “Did Madeleine tell you about that?”

“I knew about it from other sources, as well.”

“Did she tell you where it is?”

“Yes. How did you get into that game?”

The prisoner shrugged. “It’s my business. I'm for hire.”

“Who hired you?”

“Some pretty big people.”

“In Paris?”

“And Algiers.”

They want to make it look as if the United States, or American
oil interests, is financing the rebels. Sure. That’s all they need to
make the average
Frenchie
blow his top and go all-out
in this war. That’s what they want."

“And you’re willing to go along with that?”

L’Heureux laughed again. “I told you, I’m for hire. But I
had my own ideas. It seemed a shame to waste all that money just tor a
propaganda gesture. I had my own ideas, like I said. I’m going to keep that
cash for myself.”

“How many names do you know in the clique behind this
scheme?”

“Practically all of them.”

“Who are they?”

L’Heureux looked sidewise at him. “I’ll write you a letter
about it, chum, from South America. When I get there with the dough. Only
trouble is, you won't be able to read it. You’ll be dead. You’ll be meat for
the buzzards.”

Chapter Fourteen

EACH STEP became an increasing torment for Jane. She was
aware of muscles in her legs and body she had forgotten about long ago. Back in
Texas, she had been considered reasonably athletic. She was good at tennis, she
rode often, she never knew exhaustion. But for the last two months she had done
little except sit passively in the heat and boredom of North Africa. There had
been no tennis or riding in Marbruk. She had gone soft, but the lack of means
to keep fit hadn’t been the only reason for the way she had let herself
go.