A Woman Involved (21 page)

‘What name do I reserve the seats in?’

‘The same names as we’re putting on the blank passports.
Armstrong. Spider’s ticket will have to be in his real name, Webster.’

Anna left the booth. Morgan sat quiet a minute, thinking. Then said to Makepeace: ‘So you can organize everything in Amsterdam. And, do you know of private airfields in Switzerland?’

Makepeace’s brow furrowed.

‘Switzerland’s easy. All those valleys. I can find out like
that
.’ He snapped his fingers.’ Where in Switzerland do you want to go?’

‘And,’ Morgan said, ‘we need a car waiting at that airstrip in Switzerland. And a hotel room reserved.’

‘Where?’ Makepeace demanded.

‘And from the hotel room we go to another bank.’

‘
Another
bank? …’

Anna came back to the table. She nodded at Morgan.

‘
Where
in Switzerland are we going?’ Makepeace demanded plaintively ‘– where’s this other bank?’

‘You’ll be told
when
you need to know it. It may never happen. We’ll know this afternoon. But if it does, you’ve got the same job in Switzerland. Bodyguard us as we leave the bank. And provide a getaway car. Shake off anybody following us. Drive us back to the airfield. And fly us out.’

‘Where to?’

‘I’ll decide that closer to the time. Then,’ he ended, ‘your job’s over. Anna and I are on our own again.’ He sighed deeply. ‘But, again, it’s very likely there will
not
be anybody trying to pounce on us outside the bank in Switzerland, if we have been successful in covering our tracks. And even
if
they spot us at Amsterdam airport, you’ll shake them off. Won’t you?’

Makepeace shifted unhappily. ‘Who
are
these guys?’

‘
Won’t
you?’

Makepeace’s furrowed brow.

‘
Sure
I can shake them off. I
know
Amsterdam. And I can figure out a plan for Switzerland. But New York? I’ve never been here – all these one-way streets. You need a professional getaway driver for New York.’

‘Where the hell do I get one? From the Mafia? I don’t know a soul in New York, Douglas.’

‘Danziger does, he’d arrange it, he’s the best in the business.’

Morgan snorted. ‘I don’t
trust
Danziger! Forget it. Now, that’s the plan. Are you in? Or out?’

Makepeace blinked. ‘In,’ he muttered.

‘Spider?’

‘In,’ Spider said.

Morgan sat back. It was still unreal. ‘All right.’ He pulled out two folded street maps of New York. ‘One for you, one for Spider. You’re going to Hertz to rent a car. And Spider’s going to Avis to rent another one. They
must
be different colours. Got that?’

‘Got it,’ Makepeace said unhappily.

‘Spider first drives to this address.’ He handed him a note. ‘And picks up a wheelchair I’ve ordered. Then he drives to a multi-storeyed car park. I’ve marked it on the map. He leaves the car in there and then joins us in
your
car. And the four of us spend until two o’clock this afternoon driving carefully along the route I’ve marked. From the bank, onwards. Over and over. Until you’re familiar with the lights and the landmarks. Right?’

‘Right,’ Makepeace said worriedly.

‘And remember they drive on the
right,
here, Makepeace.’

‘Right,’ Makepeace said miserably. ‘On the right.’

The twin silver towers of the World Trade Center reared up into the cold, grey November sky, lights twinkling mistily.

On the ground floor stands the Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank, its portals guarded by two big iron lions, imperialistically recumbent. Across the side-road is a post office building, with parking reserved for official vehicles.

It was just after two o’clock when Spider dropped them off, half a block from the bank. Spider drove on, to the official parking area outside the post office.

They walked up the busy sidewalk, Anna and Makepeace in front, Morgan five paces behind them, his shoulders hunched against the cold, his eyes darting. This was it. He might have
done a great job so far, but if the British or the Russians knew about Max’s banks, they would be watching this one now. And all his hair-raising work would be for nothing. He just prayed that that microfilm was in this deposit box, that tonight they could drink champagne and start living happily ever after …  They turned the corner, and there were the lions guarding the bank’s entrance, thirty yards ahead. Anna walked resolutely, Makepeace gangling beside her. They turned into the portals. Makepeace pushed the door open.

Morgan’s eyes swept the street. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to them. He walked into the bank.

It was a small banking hall, with armchairs, and only about five customers. Anna walked to the enquiries counter. Makepeace sat down in an armchair. He picked up a brochure and pretended to read. He looked over the top of it, through the windows, at the street.

Anna turned from the enquiries counter. She walked through a doorway, to an elevator. Morgan followed her.

They got into the elevator together. Anna pressed the button for the first floor. The doors closed, and the elevator rose. She was pale and tense. He said: ‘There’s nothing to it. This is your own deposit box.’

The elevator stopped. The doors opened onto a corridor.

Through a door was a large room. A marble counter, with three clerks behind. At the end was a sliding grille. On this side of the counter were armchairs for clients. Morgan sat down. Anna walked to the counter. A clerk came.

‘I’d like to see my box please.’ She pulled the bunch of keys out of her handbag. ‘I’m afraid I’ve forgotten which it is.’

Morgan saw Anna sign a form. She produced her passport. The clerk went to a cabinet. Produced a card. He compared the form with the card. He returned to the counter and picked up the bunch of keys. He selected one.

‘It’ll be this one, madam.’ He pressed a buzzer. ‘Mr Fredericks will look after you.’

The grille slid back and Mr Fredericks appeared. ‘This way, madam.’

Morgan sat back. And massaged his thumb across his forehead.

Please God this is it Please God today this is all over … 
Mr Fredericks led her down an avenue of gleaming boxes. He stopped, inserted a master key and turned it. He motioned Anna to the box door. She inserted her key, and turned it. Mr Fredericks opened the little door. Inside was a metal box with a lid. Anna pulled it out.

‘This way, madam.’ Mr Fredericks led her on, to cubicles at the end of the avenue of boxes. He opened one. ‘The key is on the inside of the door, madam.’

‘Thank you.’ Anna went in. She closed the door and locked it. She felt shaky. She sat down at the little table.

She opened the lid of the box.

She was looking at a small cloth bag, with a drawstring.

She picked it up, and pulled open the string. And stared.

Her heart sank. The bag was half full of middle-sized, unset diamonds. She buried her finger into them, desperately feeling for a roll of microfilm beneath. There was none. She poured the diamonds out onto the table.

They made a small, glinting heap. She spread them out. Nothing. She looked feverishly into the bag again, as if it might be forced to yield up something more.

It yielded up an envelope.

It was folded, tucked down the side. She pulled it out and ripped it open.

It contained one sheet of paper. She fumbled it out.

It was a carbon copy of a hand-written note of three lines. It was on stationery, headed
Banco Ambrosiana.
It was in a stranger’s handwriting, in Italian.
Banco Ambrosiana? God’s Banker’s bank.

Anna spoke only a smattering of Italian but she could’ understand the note. It was a receipt. It read:

Received from Banco Ambrosiana, for and on behalf of P2, the sum of one million dollars, in kind.

It was signed,
M. Hapsburg.

Anna sat back. And held her head.

No microfilm … 

She sat there a minute. Then she feverishly scooped up the diamonds, back into the bag. She put the receipt back in the box. She hesitated a moment, then shoved the bag of diamonds into her handbag. She got up and unlocked the door.

‘
Mr Fredericks?
’

She followed him back to her slot. She shoved the box back inside, locked the door. She hurried back to the sliding grille.

Morgan got to his feet, expectantly. And his heart sank at the expression on her face.

He sat in the armchair beside her, sick in his guts.

‘Anna, the time’s come for you to tell me what this microfilm is about. So I know what we’re up against.’

‘We’re up against the British government and the Russians.’

Morgan slapped his knee angrily and stood up. ‘So, we go to Switzerland.’

Anna grabbed his hand. She pulled him down beside her.

He sat again. She looked at him.

‘No, I’m on my own now.’ Morgan sighed angrily, and she continued resolutely: ‘
Thank
you, darling Jack. For every wonderful thing you’ve done. But I’m on my own from here on in. I’ve got Makepeace to help …’ She squeezed his hand hard. ‘I’m not exposing you to risk any further. I’m going to rethink this whole thing, and make my own decisions.’

For a moment he felt relief. ‘You mean you’re going to hand the whole problem over to the British authorities?’

She began to speak, and out of the corner of his eye Morgan saw the British authorities walk into the room.

He stared. I don’t believe it …’ he whispered.

Christopher Carrington, Captain of Submarines, was walking towards them, wreathed in his crooked smile. Behind him came Makepeace, looking very worried.

Morgan got to his feet, glaring, his heart knocking.

‘Good afternoon, Jack.’ Carrington walked up to them as if pleased with a prank he had played. ‘And this –’ he gave a little bow – ‘is the charming Mrs Hapsburg?’

‘
Who the hell are you?
’ Anna whispered.

Another little bow. ‘Christopher Carrington, Royal Navy, at your service, madam.’

Morgan gripped Anna’s arm to silence her, his mind racing. ‘How did you know we were here?’

‘Oh, you were very good,’ Carrington said reassuringly – ‘you had us running round the Caribbean for days. No, it was your side-kick here who let you down.’ He turned to
Makepeace. ‘You’ll have to change your contact number, Douglas, if you want to keep it a trade secret. The Rose and Crown is old hat.’

Makepeace looked embarrassed. ‘Thank you, sir.’

Morgan hissed: ‘You don’t call this bastard sir, Makepeace! If you call anybody sir right now it’s me!’

‘Oh,’ Carrington went on, ‘you did all the right things, Jack. But as we thought you’d have to call on somebody like Douglas for a spot of help, we had him tapped. And all the others we know about. And with some nifty footwork we got the nearest public phones tapped too, in time to learn about the Brew and Burger. We followed him to the Royalton Hotel, without difficulty. And you would have foxed us there again, with that bunch of flowers. Except Douglas left your note behind in the hotel bedroom.’

‘
Jesus,
Makepeace …’ Morgan seethed.

‘And what do you want?’ Anna snapped.

Carrington said seriously: ‘I would like, please, what you came here today to get.’

‘
Well you’re not getting it!
’

Morgan rasped softly: ‘Get out of our way, Carrington. Or I’ll break your neck.’

‘Jack,’ Carrington said earnestly, ‘I am not alone. I have a goodly number of men outside –’

‘
Jesus Christ
,’ Morgan whispered – ‘a senior officer of the Royal Navy, acting on the orders of Her Majesty’s government, intends to rob an American citizen in an American bank! –’

‘
Jack
–’ Carrington interrupted urgently – ‘that is exactly what I’m
not
doing! I am
asking
for your cooperation – and Mrs Hapsburg’s. That is why they sent me along, as your former commanding officer! To
avoid
trouble, not provoke it.
Jack –
cooperate now, and relieve Mrs Hapsburg of a frightening responsibility –
and
danger, I might add – and the government will forget all this misunderstanding ever happened. Your deception in Trinidad, your breach of duty, this whole silly business. And you and Mrs Hapsburg will live happily ever after. You will even be reinstated in the Navy with full seniority and pension entitlements.’ He turned to Anna: ‘Mrs Hapsburg, I appeal to you –’

‘And if we refuse,’ Anna said furiously, ‘your men outside will rob us!’

‘
No
, madam,’ Carrington said earnestly. ‘All I have to do –’ he pointed at the counter – ‘is pick up that telephone. And within minutes the Cousins, the American authorities, will be here to take care of the matter. Officially.’

‘
And I
,’ Anna flashed, ‘have only to go to that same telephone and call the manager of this bank down here! And my lawyer! And the press! –’

Morgan interrupted venomously: ‘Bull
shit
, Carrington! The Americans would not
dare
come into this bank and try to do anything “officially”. Because they’ve got no legal
right
to do so! Because Mrs Hapsburg has committed no offence in going to her own deposit box!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘And Her Majesty’s government dare do absolutely
nothing
about my so-called deception in Trinidad! Because firstly, your detention of Mrs Hapsburg was
illegal.
And secondly because officially I took
no
part in the American invasion of Grenada, remember! I was Sergeant Jackson, remember! And Sergeant Jackson is dead and buried in Alaska! Sergeant Jackson doesn’t
exist
any more, to be punished! And our venerable Prime Minister has already officially and internationally protested to the American government about their invasion of Grenada, remember! So how can she now admit that she sent her dear and loyal subject, Jack Morgan, to take part in it dressed up as Sergeant Jackson?’ He looked at Carrington with contempt, then held his finger up under the man’s nose: ‘Now get your lily-white arse outside, Carrington, and tell your gorillas to go home. And tell Her Majesty and Ronald Reagan to leave us alone! Or else.’