Hands of the Traitor (34 page)

"And the PIN for your
card?"

"Eight four five two. It's too late now to
worry about being traced. This is the end of the line."

"Any more orders?"

"Yes, take that ridiculous headscarf
off."

Zoé reached up and touched her head.
"I did not realize I still had it on. I must look
terrible."

"You do."

Zoé ripped the yellow headscarf off
and threw it into a waste bin on the railings. "Satisfied?" she
asked, but she seemed to be sharing the absurdity of the situation
in spite of keeping a straight face.

Matt stood by the railings on the quay
when Zoé and Sophie had gone, listening to the water lapping in a
regular beat against the stone wall far below. For a time his mind
stayed a blank, and he could only blame it on fatigue. He glanced
at his watch, and then it hit him. There were different times zones
around the world. Plan C. He knew exactly what to do.

Twenty minutes later, Zoé returned with a
large paper bag from a fast food chain. "Sophie is fixed up for the
night, and I have managed to buy us some food," she said, sounding
pleased with her enterprise.

"Thanks." Matt took the bag, pulled
out a burger in a bun and bit into it.

"And you have decided what plan to
use?" Zoé asked.

"One of us needs to speak to
Urquet."

"I could be the pharmacist
again."

That didn't sound like a good idea.
"Urquet told you to send a fax, but we didn't. So someone here may
have contacted Frank Heinman's real pharmacist to see what it was
all about. Last Christmas Eve, I put on an American accent and
phoned Ken. Said I was a prosperous Texan who wanted him to fly to
Miami. He was dead keen to go -- until I explained he had to rescue
someone kidnapped by a ruthless drugs baron."

"And he believed you?"

Matt laughed at the memory. "Ken's
always claimed he knew it was a wind-up. He said he just went along
with it."

"And what use is an American accent in
Switzerland?"

"I'll say I'm in the DCI New York
office, and I have to speak to one of the Heinmans
urgently."

Zoé had opted for a salad in a plastic
pack. She pulled it open with her teeth. "How will it help?" She
didn't seem impressed.

Matt took another bite from his
burger. A few days ago Zoé would never have used her teeth like
this in front of him. The reserve in their relationship must be
breaking down. "It's only late afternoon in New York."

"So?"

"You can see people in most of the
offices here, so I reckon some of the staff have to work late to
keep in touch with New York. That means there'll be a switchboard
operator on duty. The operator won't think it odd to be getting a
call from America. I'll ask to speak to the president."

"And if he is already
here?"

"I put the phone down and we go and
see the police. Maybe they'll be alerted by now."

"And if the 'Einmans have not
arrived?"

"I'll get put through to Urquet and
tell him everything. If he doesn't want to listen, he won't know
we're here in Geneva, so it might still be possible to go for Plan
A and ram the Heinmans' car." He wiped his chin. "I needed that.
Can you see a phone?"

Zoé pointed across the quay. "Over
there, but you will need a card. There is a bar down the road.
Perhaps they sell them. I will drive and ask."

Matt looked at the Renault. "It might
be quicker to walk. No, only joking. Take the car." He already felt
better from a few bites of food. He stood on the quay overlooking
the black water of the lake while Zoé drove down the road in a haze
of smoke.

The phone cubicle looked cramped. He
picked up the handset when Zoé returned with a phone card. The ring
was answered quickly, and he tried the American voice that had once
fooled Ken.

"Is that DCI Geneva? Listen, girl, this is
the New York office. We have an emergency. It's imperative that I
speak to the president immediately. Be as quick as you can.... Yes,
I understand. Listen, girl, I don't want any time wasted. Just put
me through to Urquet."

In spite of the tension, Matt smiled. He'd
learnt a thing or two from Zoé. He could imagine some poor woman in
the building becoming increasingly flustered.

"He's there, girl, so don't go giving me
any security flannel. Just put me through -- assuming Urquet's not
gone early."

Matt breathed in deeply and slowly.
The fresh air spilling off the mountains seemed like a breath of
heaven. The suspense was like hell. A sudden change of plan came to
him. Matt didn't even have time to think it through. Plan D. He'd
be the Heinman's driver.

He heard a male voice on the
line. "Mr. Urquet?" he asked. "What was that fool of a switchboard
girl playing at? ... New York? Did she think I was in New York? ...
I'm driving the president and his father down to you. We've had a
slight hold-up on the
autoroute
and they've stopped off for a meal ... Sure,
they've already discussed it with me, Mr. Urquet ... No, I can't
say I'm too keen on it either. Well, no, but it's not exactly my
problem. I'm only the driver ... The DCI Gulfstream from New York?
Remind me about it. They're meeting...? Yes, I remember now, at the
DCI building ... Okay, Mr. Urquet, see you soon."

He replaced the phone and reached out to
hug Zoé. "We've hit the jackpot, girl. Urquet is expecting the
Heinmans sometime soon, but he's not at all happy about what's
going on. A DCI jet has just arrived at Geneva airport. It's part
of some scheme Urquet's hatched up, and I'm supposed to know all
about it."

"What scheme?" She let the hug
continue.

"I haven't a clue." He still felt
elated by his success on the phone. "I wonder if this is the right
time to get the police involved. What do you think?"

"The police were bad for us in
France."

"You're right," agreed Matt. "If we go
to the local police they'll detain us, while they check with the
Pas-de-Calais. While we're protesting our innocence, the Heinmans
could be back in America on their private jet." He pointed to the
phone booth. "I'll call the airport and find out when the plane is
leaving."

Zoé gripped hold of his arm. "Look, I
can see a big Volvo estate. No, it has English plates, and it is
going round the back. Maybe I should go to the hotel and check on
Sophie while you are phoning. She is very tired after the
journey."

"
Sophie!
" He knew what to do now. Ken would call
it thinking on the hoof, but
this
one was going to work. He was probably onto plan X
by now. "Quick, get Sophie here. That woman tells a convincing
story. She can tell Urquet everything she knows -- before the
Heinmans arrive."

*

"YOU DIDN'T
tell me how much of a mess
you're both in." Simon Urquet stared at the young president and his
father with what he hoped was an undisguised look of
distaste.

The new president seemed aware of the
hostile attitude. "I pay you to deal with DCI business, Urquet, and
this is DCI business. I just hope you've not been wasting our
time."

"The DCI Gulfstream is already at the
airport, Jason." Urquet glanced across at the ex-president and
wondered if he could cause a division between father and son. "And
that's what I told your driver on the phone not many minutes ago,
Frank."

"What the hell are you talking about,
Urquet?" The old man sounded bewildered. "You know anything about
this, Jason? No? You're one hell of liar, Urquet. We don't have a
driver. You been hitting the bottle or something?"

Urquet decided to stay silent and not
antagonize either man for the sake of scoring a few points.
Certainly there was no driver in the Volvo when they arrived.
Whatever the reason, someone was confused about the phone
call.

He looked closely at Frank Heinman,
trying to see into his eyes. As senior corporate lawyer, he'd
landed a most uncomfortable job. The New York executives were right
to be concerned about the ex-president's state of mind. Miller,
ringing from his hospital bed in England, blamed the change on a
confidential memo from Ingrid Rosestein of NATA. Whatever the
reason, the old man couldn't handle it any longer. And now the
Heinmans had the French police after them.

"I need to know something of the
circumstances of your troubles, Frank."

"You only need to know what we're telling
you, Urquet," snapped Heinman senior. "Jason will drive us down to
the airport -- as long as that airplane's ready."

"Like I said on the phone, the company
Gulfstream arrived an hour ago." Urquet expected a word or two of
thanks. It had been hard getting the aging jet over from New Jersey
with less than twenty-four hours' notice. Gratitude had never been
a Heinman weakness.

"You'd better tell us just what sort
of amazing plan you've dreamt up," interrupted Jason. He sounded
even more unpleasant than usual.

Simon Urquet wanted to hit him. He'd
done more than his share of covering up to save Jason Heinman from
the FBI over the years, and the ungrateful jerk never once had the
decency to acknowledge his efforts. "You're both flying back to the
States tonight."

Heinman senior banged the polished
desk with his fist. "You're a fool, Urquet, if that's all you've
managed to think up!"

"With respect, Frank, there's more,"
Urquet protested. "You came on the airplane from New York earlier
this evening. You and the president."

"The hell we did! What gives with you
tonight, Urquet?"

"Not really, of course." Urquet
wondered how he could possibly explain his proposal to these two
jumpy men. "You're going to be dressed as ground crew."

Jason had been studying the large map
of Switzerland on the wall. "Sounds brilliant to me."

"Then you must let me explain it slowly,
so even you can understand it." Urquet turned to the ex-president.
"Two loyal DCI men have flown into Geneva on board your Gulfstream
from New Jersey, but they've stayed on board. As soon as you get to
the airport, you'll both be given coveralls and passes. You enter
the operational side dressed as ground crew. Once you're there, you
exchange clothes with the DCI men on board the jet. A few minutes
later, they come back out dressed as ground crew, and you two
gentlemen put on the business suits. You then leave the airplane
and enter Switzerland through customs and immigration with your
passports."

"And they'll think we've just
arrived?"

Jason was catching on. The old man was
still frowning.

"Customs have been told you're asleep
aboard the Gulfstream right now and are not to be
disturbed."

"And the switch won't be noticed,"
said Jason.

"Exactly." Urquet gave a
calculated sigh. "They'll not only
think
you've just arrived -- we'll be able
to
prove
it. I made sure your names were filed on the flight plan,
and air traffic control will confirm that your jet came direct from
America with no stops. So you could not possibly have been up in
the north of France last night."

Urquet waited.

Jason Heinman was quicker than his
father. Maybe he was going to make the grade as president after
all. "And we return to the States tomorrow, officially? That should
keep those frog cops too confused to apply for extradition. As if
the hell they would, anyway." He nodded his head appreciatively.
"Good planning, Urquet. You're a valuable man in the DCI
organization. I'm looking for a vice-president right
now."

"It's something I'll need to consider."
Simon Urquet could have added that his job seemed to consist solely
of getting DCI out of the mire. "I'll have to know more details of
your problems in France -- as soon as you're back in the States. I
fancy you'll still be needing some help when you touch
down."

*

"WE'RE going in
now," said Matt
quietly. He turned to Sophie who stood, eyes wide, beside him on
the pavement. A brief meal at the hotel seemed to have done her
good. "You are ready to tell Monsieur Urquet your story,
madame?"

Sophie nodded solemnly.

Matt checked for movement inside the
entrance. He'd been aware of uniformed security staff walking about
inside the building.

"They will stop us at the front door,"
said Zoé. "Perhaps the 'Einmans they are here already."

"Stop worrying about them," said Matt.
"I don't think they're coming."

"Perhaps Monsieur Urquet was wrong.
Perhaps they have gone straight to the airport," suggested
Zoé.

"Perhaps," agreed Matt. "All we can do
is convince Urquet that his bosses are up to no good, and leave it
to him to sort out." He turned to Sophie. "Please do not hold
anything back, madame. There was something about the way Monsieur
Urquet spoke to me on the phone. The man has doubts. I believe he
will listen if you tell the truth."