Authors: Colin Forbes
Tags: #Action & Adventure, #Terrorists, #Political, #General, #Intelligence Service, #Science Fiction, #Large Type Books, #Fiction
'They stopped us by firing a bullet into the front tyre of the lead machine. I saw it, ripped to shreds. And it must have been a special explosive bullet to penetrate the windows.'
'The bastards can't even shoot straight.'
De Forge was quoting almost exactly the words General de Gaulle had used after the abortive attempt to assassinate
him on 22 August 1962. The General was fond of using
similar language to that employed by the legendary de
Gaulle.
To demonstrate his iron self-control, his ability to keep in
mind different problems at the same moment, he switched
the topic.
'I have decided Jean Burgoyne is a spy. She must be
eliminated swiftly. Contact your woman agent, Yvette, at once. Tell her to drive immediately from GHQ back up this road, to take up a concealed position near the Villa Forban.
If Burgoyne leaves she is to follow her and report back
where she has gone to. She'll need a civilian radio car from the Transport Section.'
As the limousine drove at speed closer to GHQ, accom
panied by several outriders who had caught up with them,
Lamy picked up his mobile phone. He got hold of Yvette in her room immediately, repeated de Forge's instructions.
'I will leave at once, sir,' Yvette reported back.
Lamy put down the phone. He glanced at the bullet holes
in the windows. Certainly a very special bullet must have been used to pierce the glass. And the bullet had passed
within inches of de Forge's head. Yet the General appeared to have his mind on other things. He issued a fresh order.
'Lamy, just before I left I had a call from
Oiseau
in Britain.
He told me his trusted confidant, Brand, had encountered a Paula Grey in Arcachon. She also sounds to be a spy. So
Kalmar now has two targets. Inform him to act urgently...'
*
In Paris Tweed was talking from his temporary office on the
phone to Pierre Loriot of Interpol, based in the same city. Loriot was replying to the question he had been asked.
'Tweed, I am afraid I have no concrete information on
the assassin, Kalmar. Only unconfirmed rumours. That he has operated in Bucharest, Warsaw, and Berlin. That he
comes from the East, whatever that means.'
'I'd like one solid fact,' Tweed insisted. 'Method of kill
ing, any knowledge of explosives, a hint about what he
looks like, his age. So far he's a ghost.'
'I was coming to two of those points. Only rumours, but fresh ones. That his favourite method of assassination is
strangulation. That he has an expert knowledge of
explosives.'
'I said one solid fact,' Tweed repeated.
'We're still searching for just that. I'll be in touch.' con
cluded Loriot.
Tweed was putting down the phone when Otto Kuhl
mann came into the office with a bouncy tread. He waved
his cigar.
'What are you concentrating on now?'
'What about yourself?' countered Tweed.
We're turning Germany upside down tracking
Siegfried
-
and we may be getting results. The pressure is so great their cells are beginning to move around to safer houses.
We missed one gang of three men and a woman by one
hour. In Dusseldorf. They left behind a large cache of guns, explosives. And fingerprints. This time they hadn't time to clean up the place.'
'And you've sent these fingerprints to Interpol?'
'Of course.' Kuhlmann made an impatient gesture. 'Do you think it significant that Interpol, after checking its records, reported they couldn't link them on their computers with any known terrorists?'
'Highly significant.' Tweed replied with satisfaction, certain that it confirmed a theory he held.
'And what are you concentrating on?' Kuhlmann
repeated.
'The identity of Kalmar. I'm waiting for a few more
pieces of the jigsaw I'm building up - you might call it an identikit of Kalmar, There's something very odd about that killer.'
The private phone began ringing almost as soon as de Forge
had sat behind his desk in his office at GHQ. Lamy had
gone to his own quarters to arrange arm's-length contact
with Kalmar: to phone the girl who would give him a public call box to go to.
Placing his képi carefully on his desk so the peak faced him, de Forge picked up the receiver. Maybe Lamy was calling to say he was on his way, driving to another remote public phone.
'Yes? What is it?'
'The bullet which penetrated your limousine was aimed to miss you by five centimetres precisely. Which it did. Next time it will go through the side of your skull.'
'Who the blazes is this?'
'You know perfectly well.
Manteau.
You owe me two million Swiss francs. Arrange for Lamy to make the payment. I will call Lamy at his private number five minutes from now.'
'How do I know you ...'
'You can read the papers. I presume you can read?'
'You dare to insult me?' de Forge said in a clipped tone.
'I dare to kill you if I am not paid. Others have paid.
Except one. He paid too - with his life.'
'I am heavily guarded.' de Forge continued in his icy
tone.
'You were this afternoon. And travelling in a bulletproof
limousine. That didn't save you. I know all your move
ments. If there is another job you require executing, let me
know. Through Lamy. But only after you have paid up. In Swiss franc banknotes. As I said before, with the numbers
out of sequence...'
'I must consider your proposition ...'
De Forge realized he was talking into space. The French
man at the other end had broken the connection. De Forge
sat quite still, then dialled Lamy's number.
'Come to my office immediately.'
'But General, I have to leave
immediately.
I have made
contact.'
'My office.
Immediately.'
De Forge slammed down the phone. It gave him brief
satisfaction to do to his subordinate
what
Manteau
had done
to him. He aligned his notepad with the edge of his desk,
his face grim. Lamy came in without knocking on the door, out of breath, and his chief ignored this breach of etiquette. He was working out how to conceal that he was in a totally irresolute mood.
'Is there an emergency, General?' asked Lamy.
'Sit down. Keep still. Concentrate while I talk. Do not
interrupt...'
Tersely de Forge outlined the conversation he had just
had with
Manteau.
As he spoke he watched his chief of Intelligence closely. There were beads of sweat on Lamy's
high forehead. It could, of course, be the result of his rushing
to reach his master's office.
'So that is the situation.' de Forge concluded. 'And he
made a reference to reading the papers. I assume that
you
are keeping up to date with developments - that you read
the newspapers?'
He took hold of a tidy stack of piled newspapers.
Liberation, Figaro, Le Monde.
He threw them across his desk into
his subordinate's lap.
'Read!'
The headline in large type jumped at Lamy. He had read
them but it seemed discreet to do what he was told. He
arranged the headlines one under each other.
'MANTEAU' KILLED PRESIDENT, PRIME MINISTER
'MANTEAU' ASSASSINATED PARIS PREFECT
'MANTEAU' MURDERS TOP STATESMEN
'Manteau!
de Forge burst out. 'Nothing but this
Manteau.
So why are we paying Kalmar? Is he subcontracting the jobs
to
Manteau?
'
'I doubt that very much.' Lamy ventured.
'Oh, you do! And not an hour ago
Manteau
carried out
his threat. That bullet passed within centimetres of my head.
And.' he continued sarcastically, 'in case you hadn't realized
it, his attack was brilliantly organized. First he shoots the
front tyre of the lead outrider to stop my car. He didn't shoot the outrider - although I'm damned sure he could
have done just that. And
Manteau
is calling you on your
private number in your office in five minutes. God knows how he obtains these numbers. But you'd better be in your
office when
Manteau
calls.'
'What are your instructions, General?'
Lamy had stood up quickly. De Forge threw up his hands
and looked at the ceiling, as though asking the Almighty for sympathy in coping with the idiots he was surrounded with.
'You pay him, of course. Two million Swiss francs. And
make sure the numbers are not in sequence.'
'But I have to go to a phone box in the wilds to take the
call from Kalmar. What do I say to him?'
'Can't you work that out?' de Forge grinned sardonically. 'I always have to plan everything. You give Kalmar the two targets. Jean Burgoyne and Paula Grey in Arcachon. When
he asks for payment, tell him we're expecting huge new
funds shortly. Which is true.'
'And
Manteau?
I just pay him, whatever way he wants?'
'You do that.' De Forge grinned again. 'And you give the new targets. Jean Burgoyne and Paula Grey. Let's see who
does the jobs for us, who earns the money. Time you rushed
back to your office ...'
Alone, de Forge walked round his office, hands clasped
behind his back. He was pleased with his devious ploy.
Which of the assassins would succeed? It was clean-up time,
the elimination of all spies before he made his bid. For the
Presidency of France.
In Paris at the Ministry of Defence Tweed had also been reading the newspaper headlines and the text beneath them.
He looked up as Ren6 Lasalle came into his office.
'Has Navarre decided where to concentrate his forces?'
Tweed asked. 'In the north, here round Paris - or in the
south close to de Forge's GHQ?'
'He is still waiting before he decides. He expects some new development which will point the way. He has heard
that Josette, de Forge's wife, has arrived in Paris and is
holding what she calls "salons" - afternoon parties at the de
Forges' apartment in Passy. A lot of influential people attend
these salons, including the press. She seems to be preparing
the ground for her husband's arrival in Paris.'
'I see.' Tweed looked out of the window. The sky was
still a leaden blanket. 'Rene, could you give me the address of the Passy apartment?'
Lasalle tore a sheet off Tweed's notepad, wrote an
address in his neat script. Folding the sheet, he handed it to Tweed.