Triple (47 page)

TRIPU

was one man in it The ship was sailing out of the bay, leaving a broad

wake.

"Looks like we just missed them," Cortone said.

Suza ran down the steps, shouting and waving insanely, trying to attract

the attention of the people on the ship, knowing it was impossible, they

were too far away. She slipped on the stones and fell heavily on her

bottom. She began to cry.

Cortone ran down after her, his heavy body jerking on the steps. "It's

no good," he said. He pulled her to her feet

"The motorboat," she said desperately. "Maybe we can take the motorboat

and catch up with the ship--~'

"No way. By the time the boat gets here the ship Will be too far away,

much too far, and going faster than the boat can."

He led her back to the steps. She had run a long way down, and the climb

back taxed him heavily. Suza hardly noticed: she was full of misery.

Her mind was blank as they walked up the slope of the garden and back

into the house.

"Have to sit down," Cortone said as they crossed the drawing room.

Suza looked at him. He was breathing hard, and his face was gray and

covered with perspiration. Suddenly she realized it had all been too much

for his overweight body. For a moment she forgot her own awful

disappointment. "The stairs,' she said.

They went into the rained hall. She led Cortone.to the wide cmving

staircase and sat him on the second step. He went down heavily. He closed

his eyes and rested his head on the wall beside him.

"Listen," he said, "You can call ships ... or send them a wire ... we can

still reach him . . ."

"Sit quietly for a minute," she said. "Don't talk."

"Ask my cousins-who's there?"

Suza spun around. There bad been a clink of chandelier shards, and now

she saw what had caused it.

Yasif Hassan walked toward them across the ball.

Suddenly, with a massive effort, Cortone stood up.

Hassan stopped.

Cortones breath was coming in ragged gulps. He fumbled in his pocket

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Suza said,

Cortone pulled out the gun.

Hassan was rooted to the spot, frozen.

Suza screamed. Cortone staggered, the gun in his hand weaving about in

the air.

C,ortone pulled the trigger. 7he gun went off twice, with a huge,

deafening double bang. The shots went wild. Cortone sunk to the ground,

his face as dark as death. The gun fen from his fingers and hit the

cracked marble floor.

Yasif Hassan threw up.

Sm knelt beside Cortone,

He opened his eyes. "Listen," he said hoarsely.

Hassan said "Leave him, let's go."

Suza turned her head to face him. At the top of her voice she shout4

"just fuck og." Then she turned back to Cortone.

Tve killed a lot of men' " Cortone said. Suza bent closer to hear.

"Eleven men, I killed myself ... I fornic4ted with a lot of women . . ."

His voice trailed off, his eyes closed, and then he made a huge effort

to speak again. "All my godd

life I been a thief and a bully. But I died for my friend, right? Ibis

counts for something, it has to, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she said. IM really counts for something."

"Okay," he said.

Then he died.

Suza had never seen a man die. It was awful. Suddenly there was nothing

there, nothing but a body; the person had vanished. She thought: No

wonder death makes us cry. She realized her own face was streaked with

tears. I didn't even like him, she thought, until just now.

Hassan said, "You did very well, now let's get out of here."

Suza did not understand. r did well? she thought. And then she

understood. Hassan did not know she had told Cortone an Arab had been

following them. As far as Hassan was concerned she had done just what he

wanted her to: she bad led him here. Now she must try to keep up the

pretense that she was on his side until she could find a way to contact

Nat.

I can't He and cheat anymore, I can% ies too much, rm tired, she thought.

7ben: You can phone a ship, or at least send a cable, Cortone said.,

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She could still warn Nat.

Oh, God, when can I sleep?

She stood up. "What are we waiting for?"

They went out through the high derelict entrance. "Well take my car,"

Hassan told her.

She thought of trying to run away from him then, but it was a foolish idea.

He would let her go soon. She had done what he'd asked, hadn't she? Now he

would send her home.

She got into the car.

'Wait," Hassan said. He ran to Cortone's car, took out the keys, and threw

them into the bushes. He got into his own car. "So the man in the motorboat

can't follow," he explained.

As they drove off he said, "rm disappointed in your attitude, That man was

helping our enemies. You should rejoice, not weep, when an enemy dies."

She covered her eyes with her hand. "He was helping his friend."

Hassan patted her knee. "You've done well, I shouldn't criticize you. You

got the information I wanted."

She looked at him. "Did W'

"Sure. 1hat big ship we saw leaving the bay-that was the Stmmberg. I know

her time of departure and her maximum speed, so now I can figure out the

earliest possible moment at which she could meet up with the Coparelli. And

I can have my men there a day earlier." He patted her knee again, this time

letting his hand rest on her thigh.

"Don't touch me," she said.

He took his hand away.

She closed her eyes and tried to think. She had achieved the worst possible

outcome by what she had done: she had led Hassan to Sicily but shed failed

to warn Nat. She must find out how to send a telegram'to a ship, and do it

as soon as she and Hassan parted company. There was only one other

chance-the airplane steward who had promised to call the Israeli consulate

in Rome.

She said, "Oh, God, I'll be glad to get back to Oxford."

"Oxford?" Hassan laughed. "Not yet. You'll have to stay with me until the

operation is over."

She thought: Dear God, I can't stand it. "But I'm so tired," she said.

"We'll rest soon. I couldn't let you go. Security, you know.

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Anyway, you wouldnI want to miss seeing the dead body of Nat Dickstein."

At the Alitalia desk in the airport three men approached Yasif Hassan.

Two of them were young and thuggish, the third was a tall sharp-faced man

in his fifties.

The older man said to Hassan, "You damn fool, you deserve to be shot."

Hassan looked up at him, and Suza saw naked fear in his eyes as he said,

"RostovI"

Suza thought: Oh God, what now?

Rostov took hold of Hassan's arm. It seemed for a moment that Hassan

would resist, and jerk his arm away. The two young thugs moved closer.

Suza and Hassan were enclosed. Rostov led Hassan away from the ticket

desk. One of the thugs took Suza's arm and they followed.

They went into a quiet corner. Rostov was obviously blazing with fury but

kept his voice low. "You might have blown the whole thing if you hadn't

been a few minutes late."

"I don't know what you mean," Hassan said desperately.

"You think I don't know you've been running around the world looking for

Dickstein? You think I can't have you followed just like any other bloody

imbecile? I've been getting hourly reports on your movements ever since

you left Cairo. And what made you think you could trust her?" He jerked

a thumb at Suza.

"She led me here."

"Yes, but you didn't know that then."

Suza stood still, silent and frightened. She was hopelessly confused. The

multiple shocks of the morning-missing Nat, watching Cortone die, now

this-had paralyzed her ability to think. Keeping the lies straight had

been difficult enough when she had been deceiving Hassan and telling

Cortone a truth that Hassan thought was a lie. Now there was this Rostov,

to whom Hassan was lying, and she could not even begin to think about

whether what she said to Rostov should be the truth or another, different

lie.

Hassan was saying, "How did you get here?"

"On the Karla, of course. We were only forty or fifty miles off Sicily

when I got the report that you had landed here. r also obtained

permission from Cairo to order you to return there immediately and

directly."

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"I still think I did the right thing," said Hassan.

"Get out of my sight"

Hassan walked away. Suza began to follow him but Rostov said, "Not you."

He took her arm and began to walk.

She went with him, thinking: What do I do now?

"'I know you've proved your loyalty to us, , Miss Ashford, but in the

middle of a project like this we can't allow newly recruited people

simply to go home. On the other hand I have no people here in Sicily

other than those I need with me on the ship, so I can't have you escorted

somewhere else. rm afraid yotere going to have to come aboard the Karla

with me until this business is over. I hope you don't mind. Do you know,

you look exactly like your mother."

They had walked out of the airport to a waiting car. Rostov opened the

door for her. Now was the time she should ran: after this it might be too

late. She hesitated. One of the thugs stood beside her. His jacket fell

open slightly and she saw the butt of his gun. She remembered the awful

bang Cortones gun had made in the ruined villa, and how she had scremed;

and suddenly she was afraid to die, to become a lump of clay Me poor fat

Cortone; she was terrified of that gun and that bang and the bullet

entering her body, and she began to shake.

"V&a is it?" Rostov said.

"Al Cortone died."

"We know," Rostov said. "Get in the car."

Suza got in the car.

Pierre Borg drove out of Athens and parked his car at one end of a

stretch of beach where occasional lovers strolled. He got out and walked

along the shoreline until he met Kawash coming the other way. They stood

side by side, looking out to sea, wavelets lapping sleepily at their

feet. Borg could see the handsome face of the tall Arab double agent by

starlight. Kawash was not his usual confident self.

'Thank you for coming," Kawash said.

Borg did not know why he was being thanked. If anyone should say thank

you, it was he. And then he realized that Kawash had been making

precisely that point. The man did everything with subtlety, including

insults.

'Me Russians suspect there is a leak out of Cairo," Kawash said. "They

are playing their cards very close to their

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collective Communist chest, so to speak." Kawash smiled thinly. Borg did not

see the joke. "Even when Yasif Hassan came back to Cairo for debriefing we

didn't learn much-and I didn't get all the information Hassan gave."

Borg belched loudly: he had eaten a big Greek dinner. "Don't waste time

with excuses, please. Just tell me what you do know."

"All right," Kawash said mildly. "Iley know that Dickstein is to steal some

uranium."

"You told me that last time."

"I don't think they know any of the details. Their intention is to let it

happen, then expose it afterward. Tbey've put a couple of ships into the

Mediterranean, but they don't know where to send them."

A plastic bottle floated in on the tide and landed at Borg's feet. He

kicked it back into the water. "What about Suza Ashford?"

"Definitely working for the Arab side. Listen. There was an argument

between Rostov and Hassan. Hassan wanted to find out exactly where

Dickstein was, and Rostov thought it was unnecessary."

"Bad news. Go on."

"Afterward Hassan went out on a limb. He got the Ashford girl to help him

look for Dickstein. They went to a place called Buffalo, in the U.S., and

met a gangster called Cortone who took them to Sicily. They missed

Dickstein, but only just: they saw the Stromberg leave. Hassan is in

considerable trouble over this. He has been ordered back to Cairo but he

hasn't turned up yet."

"But the girl led them to where Dickstein had been?"

stftactly.vs

"Jesus Christ, this is bad." Borg thought of the message that had arrived

in the Rome consulate for Nat Dickstein from his "girlfriend." He told

Kawash about it. "Hassan has told me everything and he and I are coming to

see you." What the hell did it mean? Was it intended to warn Dickstein, or

to delay him, or to confuse him? Or was it a double bluff--an attempt to

make him think she was being coerced into'leading Hassan to him?

"A double bluff, I should say," Kawash said. "She knew her role in this

would eventually be exposed, so she tried for 272