Blue with Black Dots (The Caprice Trilogy Book 2) (44 page)

              “I’m not confirming or denying that,” said Arthur, “But I can’t have you, Georgia, running around saying these kinds of things about me.”  Georgia made a quick move behind the sofa, knowing the bullet didn’t have the power to go through it.

“Crazy as it sounds, someone might hear me out,” said Georgia trying to keep weight off her cast hand.

“They might,” said Arthur.

              “Ha,“ said Georgia, “You’re the Deputy Director and you fear a little inquiry.”

“I’m not saying that,” said Arthur moving around the sofa.  Georgia moved to the other end of the sofa and lifted it, trying to keep most of the weight on her right hand.  The sudden motion of the sofa falling toward him, made Arthur drop his cocktail.

“Jesus Christ, Georgia,” said Arthur, “What’s wrong with you?  You want to mess up a nice room.”  Georgia ran for the king size bed on the far size of the room and rolled over it to fit in the tight space between the bed and the wall.  She began to lift the mattress upright, a sort-of shield. 

“I’ve been a Deputy Director for nine years, Georgia,” said Arthur calmly, “I’ve been with the Agency over twenty five years.  I’ve done so much the Agency doesn’t know but I’ve kept my head above water.  I took some money for myself.  But I also funded projects that would have taken forever to get approval.  Some wouldn’t have been approved at all.  I’ve done a lot of good, Georgia.  Some of it wasn’t sanctioned but I’m good at what I do.  Georgia, come on now. You gonna bound around the room like a hot-blooded whore or can we talk?  You’ve got broken ribs and a broken hand.  You don’t wanna aggravate them.  And I’m almost sixty years old.  I don’t need to chase you or have your blood on my hands.  I tell you what.  You keep your mouth shut about this.  Don’t say anything about what you’ve just said and you’ll have a fantastic career.  I’ll see to it.  Think about it.  I’m almost gone anyway, Georgia.  I’m gonna retire year after next.  That’s what this was all about, my retirement.  I didn’t want to chance someone reviewing my files or my budgets and find anything out of whack.  I didn’t want to be called into any meetings or have them suspend my pension.  You understand?  None of that.  I served my country.  I towed the line.  I just want to retire and read some newspaper and drink some coffee.  I don’t want to be called out of retirement to answer questions.  I don’t want to bother anybody.  I spent a career bothering people.  Can we just deal, Georgia?  Can we?  I’m pretty much done with all the cloak-and-dagger.  And I think you’ll make a great field agent.  I don’t want to put a bullet in that body of yours.  Tell you what.  I’ll deal even higher.  You can even call me.  I’m looking at moving to San Jose after I retire.  I’ll give you my personal number and if you need help on a case I’ll let you throw questions at me, have access to my experience.  If you apply for a higher postion, I’ll be the first to stand up and write you a recommendation.”  Arthur paused.  Georgia didn’t say anything but she let the mattress drop.

“This life has cost me two wives and two kids,” said Arthur, “I’m not looking to spend anymore or take anymore.  Can we just deal?”

“What’s my guarantee?” asked Georgia.

“You want a guarantee?” said Arthur.

“Well,” said Georgia, “If you were me, wouldn’t you?”

“Ok,” said Arthur, “How about this?”  Arthur released the cylinder of the revolver and dumped the bullets in the palm of his left hand.

“Did you see me do that?” asked Arthur.

“I did but show me the bullets,” said Georgia.

“It’s a five count barrel,” said Arthur, “Look. 
One
. 
Two
. 
Three
. 
Four
. 
Five
.  They’re all there.”

“Agreed,” said Georgia.

“Can we talk?” asked Arthur. 

“I’ll stay behind the bed here,” said Georgia, “Don’t approach.  I’ll keep open ears and an open mind.  Tell me your terms.”

“Ok,” said Arthur, “Fair enough.  Like I said, just say nothing.  That’s not so hard at all...”  There was a sudden knock on the door.  Both heard it.  Both were surprised by it.  Neither thought they had made so much noise.  Arthur slid one bullet back in the cylinder to line up with the barrel.  He put the other bullets in his pocket.

“If you say something,” said Arthur, “You’ll cost the life of someone.  I don’t think either of us wants that.”  Arthur slid his trigger hand into his pocket and used his left hand to open the door.  Arthur froze with the door open.

“It’s you,” said Arthur looking at the person on the other end of the door.  Georgia raised her head from behind the bed to see the person in the door.  She had a bad angle.  She couldn’t see who was standing in the door.  But the voice she recognized.

“Arthur,” said Simone, “Might I come in.”  Arthur looked back at Georgia.

“Did you bring her here?” asked Arthur.  Georgia didn’t say anything. 

“I came myself,” said Simone, “No one brings me.”  Arthur stepped back and Simone walked in wearing a navy wool coat and Chignon.

“Cedric,” said Simone, “
Reste là
.” 
Stay there.

“Let the girl go,” said Simone, “We must discuss something.”

“What?” asked Arthur.

“You’re not giving me a private audience,” said Simone, “I deserve as much.”

“Georgia,” said Arthur, “Consider yourself free and clear.”  Georgia stayed silent.  She stood up and walked out.  Cedric was on the other side of the door.  Georgia looked at him without saying hi.

“
Do you remember the car
?” asked Cedric.  Georgia nodded.

“
Go wait by it
,” said Cedric.  Georgia stared Cedric in the eye.  He looked away.  The idea came quick.  There were more things at play than Georgia was aware of.  She considered herself lucky to be aware of that much.  She took the stairs down, not the elevator.  The dark green
Renault 16
was parked in the hotel’s shallow back parking lot.  Georgia went and leaned against the car feeling her sore ribs against her skin.  She had the idea to kneel down and look at herself in the driver’s side mirror.  She hadn’t taken the opportunity to see herself without the gause around her face.  She looked at herself and noticed her nose leaned to the left.  It wasn’t noticeable from far away, only up close.  But it was noticeable to her.  It aggravated her.  She was giving up more than she wanted, in the field.  She felt like a child, standing by her mother’s locked car.  And like a child she had no idea of the things that were revolving around her.  No one told her anything.  And she didn’t know how long she would have to wait.  Feeling unattractive because of her newly crooked nose, she decided to pass the time in an intelligent fashion.  She had spent several months in Scotland and England.  Much of her time was spent indoors.  She hadn’t hit the beach since Virginia.  Her skin was paler than she liked it.  Even running in the vineyard didn’t darken her skin enough.  She went around to the back of the car and leaned her back against the sloping hatchback door of the car.  The sun was out and it made for good posture to collect some rays.  She was waiting long enough to get a decent tan—over an hour.  Her eyes were closed so she heard only the voice.

“Smart,” said Simone, “You are paler than looks good on you.”  Georgia leaned forward and opened her eyes.  The sun was in a different position than when she first closed them.  Cedric unlocked the car and got in the driver’s seat.

“You sit up front with Cedric,” said Simone, “I like to be chauffered from the back.”  Georgia did as Simone instructed.  Georgia sat for a full ten minutes without saying anything.  It was an odd pairing.  Cedric drove with obvious orders not to say anything.  Simone sat in the back seat staring out the window not sharing anything.  Georgia was in the front passenger seat not knowing anything.  It was the kind of conversation that had to start with a simple topic, like the weather.  The weather was too remote.  Georgia focused on something more specific.

“Where are we going?” asked Georgia.

“Back to
Constance
,” said Simone.

“Why?” asked Georgia.

“Nothing left here to do,” said Simone.

“Then what are we to do?” asked Georgia.

“Nothing,” said Simone, “We’re done.  Thank you for your help, Agent Georgia Standing.”

“You had me beat up,” said Georgia, “It’s the least I could do.”

“Well, you’re safe now,” said Simone, “We’re both safe.”

“How’s that?” asked Georgia.

“Our mutual problem,” said Simone, “It’s solved.”

“Arthur,” said Georgia, “Did you kill him?”

“No,” said Simone.

“Then what?” asked Georgia.

“Like I said,” said Simone, “He did the deal for us.”

“What do you mean?” asked Georgia.

“I said
I want to render him powerless make him as good as dead.  Then we can kill him or he may even do the deal himself
,” said Simone, “That’s exactly what happened.”

“He killed himself?” asked Georgia.

“All it took was a little discussion,” said Simone, “And on top of that I played him a tape.  He had one bullet waiting in the cylinder of his gun.  He used it wisely. ”

“What tape?” asked Georgia.  Simone reached in her coat pocket and pulled out a thick black box that looked like a pack of cigarettes.  She pressed the switch on top of the box and sound came out.  Georgia recognized the voices on the recording.  One was Arthur Witt’s.  The other was hers.  It was the conversation between Georgia and Arthur in his hotel suite.  It gave Georgia an eerie feeling to hear a recording that was only a few hours old.  The feeling was amplified by the fact that it was the last recording of Arthur Witt’s voice.

“You had the room bugged,” said Georgia.

“No,” said Simone.

“How did you get that recording?” asked Georgia.

“We had you bugged,” said Simone.

“How did you have me bugged?” asked Georgia.

“Why do you think we took you to that specific hospital in Bourges?” asked Simone, “You stay in my house, eat my food and drink my wine but forget who I am.  Shame on you.  Think, Agent Georgia Standing.  What is the one thing you’ve had on since you left the hospital?”  Georgia looked at her hand, her left hand—the one with the cast.

“They put a microphone in my cast,” said Georgia.

“Think of it as a lesson,” said Simone, “Always play on your own playing field and always choose your weapons well.  In this case, you were my weapon.  It’s a great compliment, Georgia.  I knew you could get a confession out of him.  He had me over a barrel and I had him over one.  We had equilibrium.  But apparently your Director doesn’t like equilibrium.  He likes to have the advantage.  But advantages don’t last long in this game.  That’s a lesson also.”  Simone stopped talking and looked out the window.  She lit one of her elite-brand cigarettes and rolled down her window to bust up the smoke.  Georgia looked only forward at the road ahead, until they arrived at
Constance
. 

Chapter Sixteen    Constance

Georgia spent the day in her room.  She didn’t come down until dinnertime.  Gavril took dinner in his room.  Simone allowed him but she forced Georgia to talk to her.

“It’s a courgette quiche,” said Simone, as she sat down opposite Georgia at the dining table.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Simone, “Let’s go to our private spot, away from the boys.”  Simone got up from the table and walked passed Georgia toward the den.  Georgia sat for a moment before following Simone to the table outside on the veranda.  It was cool outside but neither Simone nor Georgia needed a sweater because the quiche was piping hot.  Georgia carried her dish looking down at the bubbling-hot baked cheese.

“I’m guessing you’re somewhat upset,” said Simone.

“I am,” said Georgia, “But not how you think.”

“Tell me,” said Simone.

“I’m upset with myself,” said Georgia.

“That’s a good girl,” said Simone, “Only ever be upset with yourself.  Remember you don’t get beat in this game.  You beat yourself.  You let yourself be outplayed.  Which is why you should always ask yourself
why
.”

“I could ask myself why should I trust you,” said Georgia.

“You could,” said Simone, “But then you’d also have to think about me.  And in thinking about me you’d have to realize that I got both of us exactly what we wanted, what we needed.  Just deconstruct it to find out how I did it and that’s how you learn.  So tell me how did I do it?”

“You had a microphone in my cast,” said Georgia.

“Right,” said Simone, “Now think about what I heard.  I heard Witt say he was staying at the
Club de Prix
in the North Suite.”

“So you rented a suite on the same floor,” said Georgia.

“We were in the West Suite,” said Simone, “We have to be within about ninety meters of the microphone to pick up the radio signal.  The antenna runs along your arm.  There’s no recording device attached to the microphone so we record on the other end.”

“What about when I was in the hospital?” asked Georgia.

“You had a room to yourself,” said Simone, “But after they put the cast on they moved you.  There was another woman in your room.”

“She had the recorder,” said Georgia.

“Indeed,” said Simone, “That’s how you have to play, Georgia.  Be in control at all times and have no one know it.  And you do it by owning the details.”

“Owning the details,” said Georgia.

“
C'est ça
!” said Simone, “Besides, we learned something very important.”

“What did we learn?” asked Georgia.

“Think,” said Simone, “There’s something very big that we found out.  It’s huge.  In fact you said it yourself.”

“I said a lot of things,” said Georgia.

“You commented on the fact that Witt came himself to France,” said Simone, “He didn’t send someone.  Why?”

“He wanted to do it himself,” said Georgia.

“But if he wanted to have you killed,” said Simone, “Who do we know is missing somewhere in France?”

“Whoever killed the others,” said Georgia.

“Exactly,” said Simone, “If your colleague was working with Witt, to have the others come to Paris to be executed.  Why didn’t he call your colleague and dispatch him to Bourges to kill you?  It would have been easy.  You were in a hospital bed.”

“So what does that mean?” asked Georgia, “The killer is gone?”

“It means the killer is no longer working with Arthur Witt,” said Simone, “So who is he working for?”

“The Soviets, most likely,” said Georgia.

“Most likely,” said Simone.

“Wouldn’t that mean that he’s back to Moscow by now?” asked Georgia.

“Probably,” said Simone, “What else is there for him to do?  Witt is dead so there is no need to have you killed.  The Soviets either had him killed or took him back to Moscow, the original plan.  Learn to follow those patterns.”

“I think I’m a bit tired of patterns at the moment,” said Georgia.

“It gets that way sometimes,” said Simone, “If you’re not going to eat anymore you can go retire if you like.  I’m in Paris the rest of the week until Saturday.  We’ll talk more on Saturday after you’ve rested. I’ll be back before midday.”  Georgia got up and went the way of her bedroom. 
Bonne nuit
was all she said. 
Good night
.

Georgia spent the next few days as a shut-in.  She didn’t run the vines as she was used to doing when given a free day.  There was the excuse that she was still healing but she didn’t take it.  Her excuse was much more selfish.  She just didn’t want to.  Running the vines got her in the zone.  She had to push herself.  But she was feeling like a fish pulled out of water.  She realized she did feel like running.  She just didn’t feel like running alone.  She went with another fish out of water, Gavril.  Georgia knocked on Gavril’s door and found him lying on his bed.  She asked him if he felt like getting in some exercise.  He was curious.  Georgia told him eating cheese and drinking wine wasn’t the road to recovery.  Even Gavril through his headstrong machismo admitted he was getting fat.  Georgia laid down a challenge by telling Gavril that she had been running while he was still in a coma.  She told him to try to outrun her.  He wasn’t a runner but he actually thought he could do it.  He got winded after running two rows but was humble enough to watch Georgia go as far as she could.  She was able to finish the rows, all eighteen.  Georgia sat down on a chair next to Gavril. 

“How do you feel?” asked Georgia.

              “My legs work, my heart beats,” said Gavril, “I’m ok.”

              “I’m not talking about your body,” said Georgia, “You can build it back up but some other things are harder.”

              “What other things?” asked Gavril, “Can you be more specific?”

              “You’ve been here a long time,” said Georgia, “What do you think about the world outside this property?”

              “It’s a nice property,” said Gavril.

              “So,” said Georgia, “Live here forever.  That’s the plan.”

              “As long as Madame will let me stay,” said Gavril.

              “And if she doesn’t,” said Georgia, “Then where will you go?”

              “I don’t think about that,” said Gavril, “I have no where else to go.”

              “Does that bother you?” asked Georgia.

“Should it?” asked Gavril.

              “Maybe,” said Georgia, “Maybe not, but you’re putting a lot of trust in a woman who makes decisions with objectives in mind.”

              “When is that not the case?” said Gavril

              “I suppose you have a point,” said Georgia. 

              “I don’t think Russian men are so concerned with appearences,” said Gavril, “We have a different definition of patriotism.”

              “Do you consider yourself a patriot?” asked Georgia.

              “I will say that if I was not a patriot I would not be sitting here,” said Gavril.

              “I’m gonna need you to explain that one for me,” said Georgia.

              “I was an
MVD
officer,” said Gavril.

              “Ok,” said Georgia, “So state ministry.”

              “Yeah, I was a system guy,” said Gavril, “I had no problem being a system guy.  I had a problem being a
fed guy
.”

“What do you mean?” asked Georgia, “What’s a
fed guy
?”

              “A guy who eats,” said Gavril, “A guy who is fed.  What they paid me wasn’t enough.  I mean affording hygiene products just being normal.  And you say, hey, I want to maybe have a wife or some kids and just have some other things and you realize it’s all a closed loop.  You can’t afford things yourself so what’s with a wife or kids?  They will depend by you for things.”

              “Depend
on
you,” said Georgia.

              “Ok,” said Gavril, “But as an
MVD
officer you can force money from people.  I saved the money I didn’t spend it.  I just wanted to be able to have something to sit on top of.”

              “We call it a nest egg,” said Georgia.

              “Ok,” said Gavril, “People look at things like that and say the system is corrupt.  But it’s not that.  It’s that the system is flawed, then people get corrupt, then the system is corrupt.  I didn’t like to take money from people.  You know you tell them, hey, we’ve put your son in the prison and he was caught stealing something.  And they are allowed to go see their son in prison and he says I don’t know what the fuck these guys are talking about.  Then you tell them there is a sum of money that can clear up the misunderstanding.  And they call cousins and brothers and uncles and try to sell things to get their son out of prison but you realize these people aren’t doing better than you.  There’s something serious about making people, poor people, suffer more so you can suffer a little less.  It’s not a joke.  So I thought the system itself had to be changed.  I don’t know if I’m right or wrong but that was the only thing I could find in my head, the only solution.”

“How did Arthur Witt find you?” asked Georgia.

              “He didn’t find me,” said Gavril, “I found him.”

              “How did you do that?” asked Georgia.

              “His hotel,” said Gavril, “He stayed in Moscow on a high level meeting, some talks about people in the Soviet Community who resettled in the West and if they had family members in Soviet Union or something to develop protocols, something like that.  I was on security duty for these talks.  I just sent him a message to his hotel room.  And we kept things going from there.”

“So you got into the spy game why?” asked Georgia. 

              “I didn’t want to get rid of the systerm,” said Gavril, “I just wanted it to change.  I saw smart people in the neighborhood.  I guess in the western system they could have been millionaires but in our system it depends on how politically connected you are, where you go.  And where you live.  And what I was doing wasn’t helping.  So I tried to change something.  Like I said, I’m not claiming to be right.”

“So do you want to go back if possible?” asked Georgia.

              “I,I…I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” said Gavril. 

              “Ok,” said Georgia, “If you’re tired why not go lie down.  I can bring you something, food, water, espresso.”

              “Ok,” said Gavril.

              “What would you like?” asked Georgia.

              “Anything meat,” said Gavril, “Espresso would be ok.  I need the energy.”

              “You’re still recovering,” said Georgia, “In more ways than one.”  Gavril stood up on his own.  Georgia studied his motion as he walked.  His stride seemed almost normal.  She was worried she dared him to push himself too far.  But seeing him walking under his own weight made her think otherwise.  The exercise was good for him.  They both knew it.

Simone returned to
Constance
on Saturday around the time she promised.  The house seemed and sounded empty as she arrived, although Cedric, Gavril and Georgia were all about.  Simone walked through the entrance hall to the dining room to find an empty glass and a mesh soda siphon.  A plate of crepes and soft cheese was next to the soda siphon.  The beauty of being
Le Poq
was the relative freedom to come and go with relatively little friction.  Simone was able to time her arrival at the house, so Cedric was able to prepare.