Triple (29 page)

TJUPLE

one of the legals. The Russians were following the legals in order to

witness that meeting and pick up Dickstein's trail. The Israeli team at this

hotel was clearly not involved in a meeting. They were staking out someone,

presumably with a view to tailing him as soon as he showed, and that someone

was not likely to be one of their own agents. Tyrin could only hope that

what they were doing would at least turn out to be of some interesL

He watched the mark come out of the phone booth and walk off in the

direction of the ' bar. He wondered if the lobby could be observed from the

bar. Apparently not, because the mark came back a few minutes later with a

drink in his hand, then sat down across from Tyrin and picked up a

newspaper.

The mark did not have time to drink his beer.

The elevator doors hissed open, and out walked Nat Dickstein.

Tyrin was so surprised that he made the mistake of staring straight at

Dickstein for several seconds. Dickstein caught his eye, and nodded

politely. Tyrin smiled weakly and looked at his watch. It occurred to

him-more in hope than conviction-that staring was such a bad mistake that

Dickstein might take it as proof that Tyrin was not an agent.

There was no time for reflection. Moving quickly withTyrin

thought-something of a spring in his step, Dickstein crossed to the counter

and dropped a room key, then proceeded quickly out Into the street. The

Israeli tail, Meier, put his newspaper on the table and followed. When the

plate-glass door closed behind Meier, Tyrin got up, thinkingrm an agent

following an agent following an agent. Wen, at least we keep each other in

employment.

He went Into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. He

spoke into his radio. "This is Twenty. I have Pirate." There was no

reply-the walls of the building were blocking his transmission. He got out

of the elevator at the first floor and ran down the fire stairs, picking up

his raincoat at the half landing. As soon as he was outside he tried the m-

dio again. "Ibis, is Twenty, I have the Pirate.,'

All right, Twenty. Thirteen has him too.

Tyrin saw the mark crossing Cromwell Road. "I'm follow. ing Meier," he said

into his radio.

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Five and Twenty, both of you listen to me'. Do not follow. Have you got

that-Five?

Yes.

Twenty?

Tyrin said, "Understood." He stopped walking. and stood on the comer

watching Meier and Dickstein disappear in the direction of Chelsea.

Twenty, go back into the hotel. Get his room number. Book a room close

to his. Call nte on the telephone as soon as it's done.

"Understood." Tyrin turned back, rehearsing his dialogue: Excuse me, the

fellow that just walked out of here, short an with glasses, I think I

know him but he got into a cab before I could catch up with him ... his

name is John but we all used to call him Jack, what room . . . ? As it

turned out, none of that was necessary. Dickstein's key was still on the

desk. Tyrin memorized the number.

The desk clerk came over. "Can I help your,

"I'd Eke a room," Tyrin said.

He kissed her, and he was like a man who has been thirsty all day. He

savored the smell of her skin and the soft motions of her lips. He

touched her face and said, I'Ms, this, this is what I need." 1106y stared

into each other's eyes, and the truth between them was like nakedness.

He thought: I can do anything I want. The idea ran through his mind again

and again like an incantation, a magic spell. He touched her body

greedily. He stood face to face with her in the little blueand-yellow

kitchen, looking into her eyes while he fingered the secret places of her

body. Her red mouth opened a fraction and he felt her breath coming

faster and hot on his face; he inhaled deeply so as to breathe the air

from her. He thought: If I can do anything I want, so can she; and, as

if she had read his mind, she opened his shirt, and bent to his chest,

and took his nipple between her teeth, and sucked. The sudden,

astonishing pleasure of it made him gasp aloud. He held her head gently

in his hands and rocked to and fro a little to intensify the sensation.

He thought: Anything I wantl He reached behind her, lifted her skirt, and

feasted his eyes on the white panties clinging to her curves and

contrasting with the brown, skin of her long legs. His right hand stroked

her face and gripped her shoulder and weighed her breasts, 164

TRIPLE

his left hand moved over her hips and inside her panties and

between her legs; and everything felt so good, so good, that

he wished he had four hands to feel her with, six. Then, sud

denly, he wanted to we her face, so he gripped her shouldem

and made her stand upright, saying, "I want to look at you."

Her eyes filled with tears, and he knew that these were sips

not of sadness but of intense pleasure. Again they stued into

each other's eyes, and this time it was not just truth between

them but raw emotion gushing ft-om one to another in rivers,

in torrents. Then he knelt at her feet like a supplicant First

he lay his head on her thighs, feeling the heat of her body

through her clothing Then he reached beneath her skirt with

both hands, found the waist of her panties, and dmw them

down slowly, holding the shoes on her feet as she stepped

out He got up from the floor. 'Mey were still standing on the

spot where they had kissed when he had first come into the

room. Just there, standing up, they began to make love. He

watched her face. She looked peaceful, and her eyes were

half closed. He wanted to do this, moving slowly, for a long

time: but his body would not wait. He was compelled to

thrust harder and faster. He felt himself losing his balance, so

he put both arms around her, lifted her an inch off the floor,

and without withdrawing from her body moved two paces so

that her back was against the wall. She pulled his shirt out of

his waistband and dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his

back. He linked his hands beneath her buttocks and took her

weight. She lifted her legs high, her thighs gripping his hips,

her ankles crossed behind his back, and, incredibly, he

seemed to penetrate even deeper inside her. He felt he was

being wound up like a clockwork motor, and everything she

did, every look on her face, tightened the spring. He watched

her through a haze of lust. Them came into her eyes an ex

pression of something like panic; a wild, wide-eyed animal

emotion; and it pushed him over the edge, so that he knew

that it was coming, the beautiful thing was going to happen

now, and he wanted to tell her, so he said, "Suza, here it

comes," andshe said, "Oh, and me," and she dug her nails

into the skin of his back and drew them down his spine in a

long sharp tear which went through him like an electric shock

and he felt the earthquake in her body just as his own erupt

ed and he was still looking at her and he saw her mouth

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open wide, wide as she drew breath and the peak of delight overtook them

both and she screamed.

"We follow the Israelis and the Israelis follow Dickstein. All it needs is

for Dickstein to start following us and we can all go around in a circle

for the rest of the day," Rostov said. He strode down the hotel corridor.

Tyrin hurried beside him, his short plump legs almost running to keep up.

Tyrin said, "I was wondering what, exactly, was your thinking in abandoning

the surveillance as soon as we saw hiM?V1

"It's obvious," Rostov said irritably; then he reminded himself -that

Tyrin's loyalty was valuable, and he decided to explain. "Dicksteia has

been under surveillance a great deal during the last few weeks. Each time

he has eventually spotted us and thrown us off. Now a certain amount of

surveillance is inevitable for someone who has been in the game as long as

Dickstein. But on a particular operation, the more he is followed the more

likely he is to abandon what he's doing and hand it over to someone

els&-and we might not know who. All too often the information we pin by

following someone is canceled out because they discover that we're

following them and therefore they know that we've got the information in

question. This way-by abandoning the surveillance as we have done today-we

know where he is but he doesn't know we know."

"I see," said Tyrin.

"Hell spot those Israelis in no time at all," Rostov added. "He must be

hypersensitive by now."

"Why do you suppose they're following their own man?"

"I really can't understand that." Rostov frowned, thinking aloud. -rm sure

Dickstein met Borg this morning-which would explain why Borg threw off his

tail with that tax! maneuver. it's possible Borg puffed Dickstein out and

now he's simply checking that Dickstein really does come out, and doesn't

try to carry on unofficially." He shook his head, a gesture of frustration.

'That doesn't convince me. But the alternative is that Borg doesn't trust

Dickstein anymore, and I find that unlikely, too. Careful, now."

They were at the door to Dickstein's hotel room. TYrin took out a small,

powerful flashlight and shone it around the edges of the door. "No

telltales," he said.

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Rostov nodded, waiting. This was Tyrin!s province. The little round man

was the best general technician in the KGB, in Rostov's opinion. He

watched as Tyrin took from his pocket a skeleton key, one of a large

collection of such keys that he had. By tying several on the door of his

own room here, he had already established which one fitted the locks of

the Jacobean Hotel. He opened Dickstein's door slowly and stayed outside,

looking in.

"No booby traps," be said after a minute.

He stepped inside and Rostov followed, closing the door. This part of the

game gave Rostov no pleasure at all. He liked to watch, to speculate, to

plot: burglary was not his style. He felt exposed and vulnerable. If a

maid should come in now, or the hotel manager, or even Dickstein who

might evade the sentry in the lobby . . . it would be so undignified, so

humiliating. '7~ees make it fast," he said.

The room was laid out according to the standard plan: the door opened

into a little passage with the bathroom on one side and. the wardrobe

opposite. Beyond the bathroom the room was square, with the single bed

against one wall and the television set against tke other. There was a

large window in the exterior wall opposite the door.

Tyrin picked up the phone and began to unscrew the mouthpiece. Rostov

stood at the foot of the bed, looking around, ft*g to get an impression

of the man who was staying in this room. There was not much to go on.

TIle room had been cleaned and the bed made. On the bedside table were

a book of chew problems and an evening newspaper. There were no signs of

tobacco or alcohol. The wastepaper basket was empty. A small black vinyl

suitcase on a stool contained clean underwear and one clean shirt. Rostov

muttered. "Me man travels with one spare shirtl" The drawers of the

dresser were empty Rostov looked into the bathroom. He saw a toothbrush,

a rechargeable electric shaver with spare plugs for different kinds of

electrical outlets, and-the only personal touch-a pack of indigestion

tablets.

Rostov went back into the bedroom, where Tyrin was reassembling the

telephone. "Its done."

"Put one behind the headboard," Rostov said.

Tyrin was taping a bug to the wall behind the bed when the phone rang.

If Dickstein returned the sentry in the lobby was to call

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