Authors: Ken Follett
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Thrillers, #General, #Espionage, #Unknown
Ken FoHeff
"I should have guessed," Rostov had said. "If Dickstein is after secrets
his informants won't be from the airport or the Alfa Hotel. I should have
sent Nik to Euratom first."
He was addressing Pyotr Tyrin, but Hassan heard and said, "You can't
think of everything."
"Yes, I can," Rostov told him.
He had instructed Hassan to get hold of a large dark car. The American
Buick they now sat in was a little conspicuous,but it was black and
roomy. Nik had followed the Euratom man home, and now the four spies
waited in the cobbled street close to the old terraced house.
Rostov hated this cloak-and-dagger stuff. It was so oldfashioned. It
belonged to the Twenties and Thirties, to places like Vienna and Istanbul
and Beirut, not to western Europe in 1968. It was just dangerous to
snatch a civilian off the street, bundle him into a car, and beat him
until he gave you information. You might be seen by passersby who were
not afraid to go to the police and tell what they had observed. Rostov
liked things to be straightforward and clear-cut and predictable, and he
preferred to use his brains rather than his fists. But this delivery man
had gained in importance with each day that Dickstein failed to surface.
Rostov had to know what he had delivered to Dickstein. and he had to know
today.
Pyotr Tyrin said, "I wish he would come out."
"We're in no hurry," Rostov said. It was not true, but he did not want
the team to get edgy and impatient and make mistakes. To relieve the
tension he continued speaking. "Dickstein did this, of course. He did
what we've done and what we're doing. He watched the Jean-Monnet
building, he followed this man home, and he waited here in the street.
The man came out and went to the homosexual club, and then Dickstein knew
the man7s weakness and used it to turn him into an informant."
Nik said, "He hasn't been at the club the past two nights."
Rostov said, "He's discovered that everything has its price, especially
love."
"Love?" Nik said with scorn in his voice.
Rostov did not reply.
The darkness thickened and the street lights came on. The air coming
through the open car window tasted faintly damp: Rostov saw a swirl or
two of mist around the lights. The va-
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.por came from the river. A fog would be too much to hope for in June.
Tyrin said, "What's this."
A fair-haired man in a double-breasted jacket was walking briskly along
the sm*t towud them.
diQuiet now," Rostov W&
The man stopped at the house they were watching. He rang a doorbell.
Hassan put a hand on the door handle.
Rostov hissed: "Not yet."
A net curtain was briefly drawn aside in the attic window.
The fair-haired man waited, tapping his foot.
Hassan said, 'Me lover, perhaps?'
"For God's sake shut up," Rostov told him.
After a mmute the front door opened and the fair-haired inan stepped
inside. Rostov got a glimpse of the person who had opened up: it was the
delivery man. The door closed and their chance was gone.
Too quick,- Rostov said. -Damn It.-
Tyrin began to drum his fingers again, and Nik scratched himself. Hamm
gave an exasperated sign, as if he had known all along that it was
foolish to wait. Rostov decided that it was time to bring him down a peg
or two.
Nothing happened for an hour.
Tyrin said, 'Ibey're spending an evening Indoors."
"If they've had a brush with Dickstein they're probably afraid to go out
at night," Rostov said.
Nik asked, "Do we go inrl
'rheres a problem" Rostov answered. 'Trom the window they can see who's
at the door. I guess they won!t open up for strangers.90
"Me lover might stay the night," T~Tk said.
$&Quite."
Nik said, 'Vell just have to bust in."
Rostov ignored him. Nik always wanted to bust In, but he would not start
any rough stuff until he was told to. Rostov was thinking that they might
now have to snatch two people, which was more tricky and more dangerous.
"Have we got any firearms?" he said.
Tyrin opened the glove box in front of him and drew out a pistol.
"Good," Rostov said. "So long as you don!t fire it" 129
Ken Folleff
"It's not loaded," Tyrin said. He stuffed the gun into his raincoat
pocket.
Hassan said, "If the lover stays the night do we take them in the
morningr'
"Certainly not," Rostov said. "We cant do this sort of thing in broad
daylight."
"What, thenT'
"I haven't decided."
He thought about it until midnight, and then the problem solved itself.
Rostov was watching the doorway through half-closed eyes. He saw the
first movement of the door as it began to operL He said: "Now."
Nik was first out of the car. Tyrin was next. Hassan took a moment to
realize what was happening, then he followed suit.
The two men were saying goodnight, the younger one on the pavement, the
older just inside the door wearing a robe. The older one, the delivery
man, reached out and gave his lover's arm a farewell squeeze. They both
looked up, alarmed, as Nik and Tyrin burst out of the car and came at
them.
"Don't move, be silent," Tyrin said softly in French, showing them the
gun.
Rostov noticed -that Nik's sound tactical instinct had led him to stand
beside and slightly behind the younger man.
The older one said, "Oh, my God, no, no more please."
"Get in the car," Tyrin said.
The younger man said, "Why can't you fuckers leave us aloner9
Watching and listening from the back seat of the car, Rostov thought:
71is is the moment they decide whether to come quietly or make trouble.
He glanced quickly up and down the darkened street. It was empty.
Nik, sensing that the younger man was thinking of disobedience, seized
both his arms jug below the shoulders and held him tightly.
"Don't hux-t him, ru go," said the older man. He stepped out of the
house.
His friend said, "The bell you willl"
Rostov thought: Damn.
Ile younger man struggled in Nik's grip, then tried to 136
TRIPLE
stamp on NWs foot. Nil stepped back a pace and bit the boy in the kidney
with his right fist
"No, Pierrel" the older one said, too loud.
Tyrin jumped him and put a big hand over the man!s mouth. He struggled, got
his head free, and shouted "Helpl" before Tyrin gagged him again. -
Pierre had fallen to one knee and was groaning.
Rostov leaned across the back seat of the car and called through the open
window, "Izes Rol"
Tyrin lifted the older man off his feet and carried him bodily across the
pavement toward the car. Pierre suddenly recovered from Nik's punch and
sprinted away. Hassan stuck out a leg and tripped him. 7he boy went
sprawling on to the cobbled road.
. Rostov saw a light go on in an upstairs window at a neighboring-house. if
the fracas continued much longer they would all get arrested.
Tyrin bundled the delivery man into the back of the car. Rostov grabbed
hold of him and said to Tyrin: "I've got him. Start the car. Quick."
Nil had picked up the younger one and was carrying him to the car. Tyrin
got Into the driver's seat and Hassan opened the other door. Rostov said,
"Hassan, shut the door of the house, idiotl"
Nik pushed the young man into the car next to his friend, then got into the
back seat so that the two captives were between Rostov and himself. Hassan
closed the door of the house and jumped into the front passenger seat of
the car. Tyrin gunned the car away from the curb.
Rostov said in English, "Jesus Christ almighty,. what a fuck-up."
Pierre was still groaning. The older prisoner said, "We haven!t done
anything to hurt you."
"Haven't you?" Rostov replied. 'qbree nights ago, at the club in the Rue
Dicks, you delivered a briefcase to an Englishman.-
64M Rodsersr
'Orhat's not his name," Rostov said.
"Are you the police?"
"Not exactly." Rostov would let the man believe what he wanted to. "I'm not
interested in collecting evidence, building
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Ken Folloff
a case, and bringing you to a trial. rm interested in what was in that
briefcase."
There was a silence Tyrm spoke over his shoulder 'Want me to head out of
town, look for a quiet spot?"
Vait,- Rostov said.
The older man said, "I'll tell you."
"Just drive around town," Rostov told Tyrin. He looked at the Euratom, man.
"So tell me."
"It was a Euratom computer printouV'
"And the information on it?"
"Details of licensed shipments of fissionable materials."
"Fissionable? You mean nuclear stuff?"
"Yellowcake, uranium metal, nuclear waste, plutonium.. ."
Rostov sat back in the seat and looked out of the window at the fights of
the city going by. His blood raced with excitement: Dickstein!s operation
was becoming visible. Ilcensed shipments of fissionable materials ... the
Israelis wanted nuclear fuel. Dickstein would be looking for one of two
thing& on that list--either a holder of uranium who might be prepared to
sell some on the black market, or a consignment of uranium he might be able
to steal.
As for what they would do with the staff once they got ft.. .
The Euratom man interrupted his thoughts. "NM you let us go home now?"
Rostov said, "I'll have to have a copy of that printout."
"I can't take another one, the disappearance of the first was suspicious
enough I"
"I'm afraid you'll have to," Rostov said. "But if you like, you can take ft
back to the office after we've photographed it.19
"Oh, God," the man groaned.
"You've got no choice."
"All right."
-"Head back to the house," Rostov told Tyrin. To the Euratom man he said,
"Bring the printout home tomorrow night Someone will come to your house
during the evening to photograph it."
The big car moved through the streets of the city. Rostov felt the snatch
had not been such a disaster after all. Nik Bunin said to Pierre, "Stop
looking at me."
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TJUPLIE
71ey.reached the cobbled street Tyrin stopped the car. "Okay," Rostov
said. "Let the older man out. His friend stays with us."
The Euratom man yelped as if hurt. "Why?"
"In case you're tempted to break down and confess everything to your
bosses tomorrow. Young Pierre will be our hostage. Get out."
Nik opened the door and let the man out He stood on the pavement for a
moment. Nik got back in and Tyrin drove off.
Hassan said, "Will he be all right? Will he do it?"
"He'll work for us until he gets his friend back," Rostov said.
"And then?"
Rostov said nothing. He was thinking that it would probably be prudent
to kill them both.
Ibis is Suza's nightmare.
It is evening at the green-and-wbite house by the river. She is alone.
She takes a bath, lying for a long time in the hot scented water.
Afterward she goes into the master bedroom, sits in front of the
three-sided mirror, and dusts herself with powder from an onyx box that
belonged to her mother.
She opens the wardrobe, expecting to find her mother's
clothes moth-eaten, falling away from the hangers in dun
colored tatters, transparent with age; but it is not so: they are
all clean and new and perfect, except for a faint odor of
mothballs. She chooses a nightgown, white as a shroud, and
puts it on. She gets into the bed. I
She lies still for a long time, waiting for Nat Dickstein to come to his
Eila. IMe evening becomes night. The river whis. pers. The door opens.
The man stands at the foot of the bed and takes off his clothes. He lies
on top of her, and her panic begins like the first small spark of a
conflagration as she realizes that it is not Nat Dickstein but her
father; and that she is, of course, long dead: and as the nightgown
crumbles to dust and her hair falls out and her flesh Withers and the
skin of her face dries and shrinks baring the teeth and the skull and she
becomes, even as the man thrusts at her, a skeleton, so she screams and
screams and screams and wakes up, and she lies perspiring and. shivering
and frightened, wondering
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