Confessor (26 page)

Tony Worboys had said he would meet him at the site, so Herbie had awakened Ginger, written a note to Bex Olesker and called the main house to bring Kenny Boyden over to lie across the door, as the arcane argot has it.

The note had said:

Bex, I got to be out for a while. Do not see Carole again until I come back I know some good questions for her now. Not likely to be easy. In meantime, go and root out that magic man you talked to on the telephone. He must have been one of the last people to see Gus alive. You know the questions to ask him. Love and kisses, Herb.

“He’s taken it very bad, Mr. Worboys.” Ginger was at his elbow, almost touching his arm. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Mr. Kruger was weeping, sir.”

“Just look after him when we leave, Ginger. This is bad, and it’s likely to get worse.”

He moved forward and stood next to Herbie. “You’re well insured, Herb, right?”

The big head nodded, and the distraught face turned towards Young Worboys. “Sure. I can build twenty cottages better than this with insurance, but I’ve lost a lot of nice bits and pieces from my brilliant career.” There was bitterness in the way he spoke. “Shit,” he said. “My own bloody silly fault. They thought I was inside.”

“How?”

“You know me, Young Worboys. Always fixing my own security.” A long pause followed by a great sigh, which finally changed to a raw laugh. “Did it all myself. Ran the place off a computer when I was away. One thing I remembered to do when I left here.”

“Alarms, you mean?”

“Sure, there were alarms, but I did more. The program was computer-driven. Pulled curtains closed and open at certain times. Switched on lights in different rooms. Put the television on and off. Even played voices I recorded on a big old reel-to-reel. Anyone getting near the place would think I was at home.”

“Thank God you weren’t.”

“You got to watch your back also, Young Worboys. You already warned me. Is The Whizzer fully briefed now? If not, you’d better tell him what they done to this place, yes?”

“Yes.” Worboys nodded. “The Office’ll see you have somewhere to live while you’re sorting things out.”

“Should bloody think so, Tony.” He grinned like a Halloween lantern. “Think of all the fun I have in building up my record collection again.” Then, as though it were an afterthought: “Also, now I might do some dabbling in the magic, like Gus.”

“Lord save us from that, Herb.”

Presently the local Fire Captain came up to them, apologizing and saying that the explosions and ensuing fire looked like something deliberate.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Herbie did smile, though the words came out brittle and harsh.

“There’ll still have to be an inquiry, sir.”

Worboys stepped between them, and taking the fireman by the arm, he led him a few paces away.

“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Kruger.” Ginger came over from the car.

“Sure, Ginge. Let me have a few minutes with the good Mr. Worboys. Alone in the car would be best, I think.”

“I’ll stay out of the way until you’ve done, Mr. Kruger. I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’ be, Ginge. I got my life. I got my health. What more can a man want? Possessions aren’t everything, you know. Don’ worry.”

Worboys returned, saying that he had fixed the Fire Captain. The police he would deal with as soon as he got back to London.

“Tony, a word in my office, huh?” He gestured towards the car.

Once settled in the back of the car, with Ginger discreetly standing several paces away, Herbie told him what he had discovered about Gus and
Jasmine
.

“So, she’s come alive again.”

“Looks very like it, Tony. Problem is meeting her. We have to give a map reference disguised as a couple of telephone numbers, which means some playing around. We do it the wrong way and she dives under the surface again. Neither do we know the tradecraft: which signals for safe and which for keep off the sodding grass.”

“It would be better if we could get around that. You say Gus had an affair with this one?”

“That’s how it reads. He did some hanky-panky with her, that’s for sure. I’m wondering how much Carole knew.”

“Well, for heaven’s sake take care when you’re talking to her. Carole can be bloody volatile, Herb. Could get your dick trapped in a mousetrap.”

“Ouch! Now you really scare me, Tony. You got absolutely nothing in the forbidden secrets department?”

“
Jasmine
, yes. Yes, of course we have. We’ve got the product. She was very good. Gave us indispensable intelligence during the Gulf War. Amazing stuff.”

“I mean how she was run?”

“It was Gus, and Gus alone.”

“Shit,” said Kruger with a good deal of emotion.

“I’m so sorry, Herb.” Bex was waiting in the dining room when he returned to the Warminster Dower House.

“It’s terrible.” Bitsy was hovering, and the table was laid out with cold meats, hard-boiled eggs and seven kinds of salad. Enough to feed a couple of armies.

“Ach, is nothing.” Kruger grinned. “What’s one lousy house between enemies? The insurance’ll make me almost rich. I can buy several houses with it. I’m alive. They meant for me to be dead, so we fooled them.” He helped himself to a huge plate of lettuce, tomato, cucumber, ham and hard-boiled eggs, waved away the wine that Bitsy suggested and asked for Perrier water. “Kisses, cool as cucumbers,” he remarked as he placed the salad on his plate. Then: “So, how was the Mage of Salisbury?”

“Nice.” Bex chewed on a hunk of French bread. “Very nice. About a hundred and three, but he talked quite openly to me about Gus’s visit to his magic society. They call themselves, the Old Sarum Sorcerers …”

“Yesu!” Herb looked heavenwards.

“He said it was an honor to have Claudius there for the evening. Said it was one of the greatest experiences of his magic life.” Her tone was mocking.

“Don’ extract the urine, Bex. These guys are mainly very serious.”

“Okay, but he went on a good deal about it. Even told me what Gus did for them.”

“Some other time. What about Gus’s demeanor? What about when he left?”

“On very good form. Stayed for longer than most lecturers. Did you know there’s a whole great lecture circuit in the magic business? Just about worldwide. He said Gus stayed, answered questions. Left on his own. Seemed to be in good spirits.”

“You got the time he left?”

“It was late for the Old Sarum Sorcerers. As he remembered, it was almost one in the morning.”

“That leaves about two hours unaccounted for—well, say one and a bit hours. Not a long drive from Salisbury to where Gus died. A lot of time missing, so we’re none the wiser.”

“We know he was there. We know that’s what he was doing. Well, we know he left at around one, and the car blew up just after three.”

“Doesn’t explain him standing by the roadside near his car, talking to someone as yet unidentified. Chatting one minute, driving off the road and blowing up the next.”

“No, it really doesn’t explain a damned thing. I think we should have a little pry into the telephone logs. The big house and here.”

“They’d still log calls from here? Even though it was virtually Gus’s private residence?”

“You’d be surprised at what they log.
Every
incoming and outgoing call. The lot. Must be on file somewhere.”

They finished lunch eventually and headed across to the Guest Quarters to have another chat with Carole. “I do the talking on this one, Bex, ’cause you don’ know the right questions. Just stand by to pick up Carole in case she gets the vapors.”

Carole was all sweetness. “I thought you’d be over this morning.” She gestured to the chairs as though she were still the lady of the manor—which had been Gus’s joke about her when he ruled the roost at Warminster.

“No, had a little problem.” Herb grinned. “My house blew up, Carole.”

“You’re joking.”

“I don’ yoke about houses blowing up.”

“You leave the gas on or something?”

“No, someone put some explosives and gas around the place and whoosh! Went up, ignited the gas line and boom, as in my house used to be here.”

“Oh, Herb, I’m—”

He held up a hand to stop here. “Carole, you said there was a tape of Gus’s special lecture to all those important people.”

She nodded. “In the archives at the main house,” leaning forward and picking up a videotape from a side table. “All yours, Herb. I got them to let me take it for you.”

“You did? Naughty. They should’ve asked
me
.”

“Well, I told them
you
wanted it. They know me well enough and I’m not taking any risks.”

“Okay, we’ll take a look later on,” and like a soccer player swerving and booting the ball away at ninety degrees, he switched: “Carole, tell me about
Jasmine
.”

Her face went hard as granite for a few seconds and he would have sworn that her eyes blazed anger. “
Jasmine
?” she asked.

“She was here at one time—1984 I think. You gotta remember
Jasmine
, Carole. Old Gus was stuck on her.”

For a moment he thought he had blown it. Then Carole relaxed. “Yes, Herb.
Jasmine
. Pain and grief, but Gus never knew. He was mightily stuck on
Jasmine
because of the potential. I’m pretty certain of that. You clever devil, Herb. Gus never knew, but you dragged it out of the past, though I couldn’t tell how you did it.”

“Just tell us about it, Carole, my dear.”

“Okay. The one and only time I was ever unfaithful to Gus.”

“Yes?”

“He brought this guy—an Iraqi, I think—down here. Usual business. He came at night, blindfolded. Gus said he was a possible recruit to do some bits of snooping in the Middle East. Said he had worked for the Office as a lab technician for some time. Now they wanted him to go back. It was risky. I remember laughing when I was told to refer to him only as
Jasmine.
Work name, I suppose.” Her tongue slid out and she licked her lips.

“He was a very attractive hunk, if you want to know.” She was almost belligerent about it. “Gus had to be away a lot.” She sighed. “Really never forgave myself for it. Gus said, ‘Keep him happy while I’m gone for a couple of days.’ Gus was my life, Herb. Why would I do such a thing? Never forgave myself.”

“It happens.” Herbie reached out and fondled her hand.

She withdrew it quickly. “I spent most of the first day just talking to him. We went for a walk, I recall. On the grounds, of course. The staff kept their eyes out for him—us. It was the second night. He was so attractive. Like silk, and with a beautiful voice, though what that has to do with it I don’t know. Yes, on the second night I slept with him. The
only
time, Herb. I promise it was the only time I was ever unfaithful to my dear, dearest Gus.”

“And did the earth move?”

“As a matter of fact it did,” she snapped. “But I wanted out. I felt filthy for days. Went through a routine of showering about three times a day. Even destroyed some of the clothes I was wearing. Please, Herb. Please, this hasn’t got anything to do with Gus being dead, has it?”

“No. No, not directly.” He was away, trying to work out why Gus had left a document that was a direct deceit. Calling
Jasmine
a woman, with whom
he
had taken a trot around the park. “No,” he added. “Carole, Bex and I got to talk. We’ll watch Gus’s lecture and come back tomorrow. Long session tomorrow.”

As he rose, Carole asked, “You don’t think I’m a trollop, Herb?”

“Don’ be stupid, Carole. You know I always lusted after you. No, you’re not a trollop.”

Far away in the underground facilities a telephone purred. Instinctively Herb knew it was for him, and showed no surprise when the switchboard patched it through to Carole’s room.

“Herb.” Young Worboys was breathless from London. “You with Carole?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t say a word, but I have a shock for you.”

“My house hasn’t blown up again, has it?”

“No, Herb. Today’s
Times
. There’s an answerback.”

“What?”

“Go and read it yourself. Somewhere private. Certainly not in front of Carole.”

“Sure. Sure, Tony, I’ll do that.”

“And call me back.”

“And when I’ve done it, I’ll call you back.”

He almost dragged Bex out through the passage that led directly to the main house. All the way she pummeled him with questions: “Herb, what is it? Please, Herb. Tell me what it is?”

There was a copy of
The Times
in the Mess. Kruger pounced on it like a huge bear wanting to do it an injury, tearing the pages apart.

It was in the third column of the personal ads:

JASMINE
, my queen. Your news is wondrous and I can even smell your rich perfumes from where I am. Call me tomorrow night around seven at either 234-2210 or 234-2261. I yearn for you. Your beloved Claudius

E
ARLIER, IN NEW YORK, WALID
COULD NOT
sleep. New York is the city that never sleeps, and Walid remained wide awake. First, Samih and Khami had made noisy love. To be fair, Khami had offered herself to Walid also, once the team’s leader, Samih, had dropped into a deep sleep, but Walid had refused. He cared greatly for her, but hated the thought of her having been touched by Samih. His instinct told him that she would rather be alone with him, but what was instinct?

He still could not sleep, and realized suddenly at five in the morning that it was the silence that worried him. Even in the plush apartment building there was always noise. Twenty-four hours a day there was noise. The normal city traffic sounds of the day, and at night if it was not the street-cleaning crews, it was the wail of police sirens.

Now, here in the early hours, there was no noise. Quietly he climbed out of bed and went over to the long window that looked down on Park Avenue. With a jolt to his heart he realized why it was so silent. Below him, and on the other side of the street, the light of police cruisers twinkled their red and blue strobes. There were three ambulances drawn up across the street and a pair of buses.

Walid reasoned that there was a SWAT team out there. Possibly negotiators, in case something went wrong, maybe even the FBI fast-reaction hostage team from Quantico. He did not know how long he had to get clear, and his first thought was to waken Samih as the leader, show him what was waiting for them and take orders directly from him.