THE PERFECT KILL (22 page)

“Because now we’ll have a good chance of setting the place and the time.”

The Senator was intrigued.

“How will we do that?”

All three bodyguards were smiling. Rene answered the question.

“Because in two or three days from now, Senator, you will make a phone call from inside the house. It will be a phone call to a young lady, to arrange a rendezvous…a rendezvous unencumbered by bodyguards.”

The Senator looked at the three faces and also smiled.

“I want you to grow a moustache.”

Michael turned his head and looked at Creasy in surprise.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a statistical fact that more than fifty per cent of young Palestinian males have moustaches.” He smiled. “Quite a few Palestinian females have them too. Besides, it will make you look about twenty.”

They were sitting side by side at the edge of the pool, their feet in the water.

Turning serious, Creasy said, “In about four months you’ll be ready. Then we go.” He calculated in his mind and then went on, “Leonie will be leaving in five weeks. After that all your training will be here in the house. I’ll set up a pistol range in the cave and I’ll borrow a silenced sniper rifle from George. We can practise up on the cliffs past Ta Cenc.”

“George says that’s my weakest point in weapons,” Michael said.

“It’s the weakest part of every member of George’s squad, including himself. There’s a reason for it.”

“What’s that?”

“Temperament,” Creasy answered. “Mediterranean temperament. You might call it impatience. That’s fine with a handgun or an SMG. I can tell you that you’re perfectly suited to an SMG. You have the rhythm. Within four months, you’re going to be damned good.”

“As good as you?”

Creasy shook his head. “No, but better than me at your age. When it comes to sniping, though, you have to be able to change your mentality. You have to cultivate patience and concentration. You have to learn to lie in cover for hours on end without moving. The best snipers in the world are Gurkhas.”

“Gurkhas?”

“Yes, they’re from Nepal. To this day, they serve as mercenaries in the British and Indian armies. They’re very small men but they make the best soldiers I’ve ever seen…and the best snipers. One of them will be coming here after Leonie has gone. He’s sixty years old and retired but probably still the best sniper on earth. He will teach you.”

“Are you a good sniper?” Michael asked.

“Yes,” Creasy stated flatly. “But I don’t come close to Rambahadur Rai. He can freeze his body in total stillness for forty-eight hours and then take the top off a beer bottle at four hundred metres. He will arrive as soon as Leonie leaves and stay about a month.”

“I don’t think Leonie wants to leave,” Michael said quietly.

“She has to,” Creasy answered. “It’s in her contract. You know about that contract.”

The young man kicked his feet, splashing water across the pool. “You seem to be getting on much better,” he said. “And I’ll miss her cooking…so will you.”

Creasy shrugged and said, “She’s a good cook and a fine woman and I admit that I treated her badly during the first three months…but in five weeks she has to go.”

As if on cue, Leonie came out of the kitchen carrying a tray. She put it on the table under the trellis and called out, “Lunch.”

There were plates of cold meats and salads and cheeses and a chilled bottle of Soave. As they ate, Michael looked up at Leonie and said, “I want to go to La Grotta tonight…do you mind?”

Without looking at Creasy, she shook her head and said, “No, I don’t mind. As long as you promise me you won’t drink more than four bottles of beer. You’re still on medication for another week.”

“I promise,” Michael said solemnly.

“Why don’t we all go?” Creasy said.

Leonie looked at him, startled. “All of us…to a disco?”

“Sure. Why not? It’s a good disco and they make damn fine pizzas.”

“It sounds fun…will you dance with me?”

“Sure.”

“And I’ll dance with you too,” Michael said enthusiastically. They were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

Michael went into the kitchen. When he came back out he said, “It’s for you, Creasy. Overseas. He wouldn’t give his name, just said, “Tell him it’s the Aussie.””

Creasy came back ten minutes later. As he sat down, he said, “Let’s make it a good night tonight. I have to leave in the morning. I’ll be away about a week to ten days.”

“Nicole, honey, I miss you like hell.”

In his deep Australian accent Frank Miller answered, “Sweetheart, I miss you too.”

Senator James S. Grainger burst into raucous laughter. They were sitting at a table at the far end of the swimming pool. Both held a sheet of paper in their hands. Very sternly, Miller said, “Senator, you have to get this right. It’s important. You have to make that call tonight and it’s vital that you sound totally natural.”

Grainger grinned. “You mean I must sound like I’m chatting up my mistress?”

“Exactly. Now let’s start again from the top.”

The Senator took a sip of his whisky, looked down at the paper and repeated, “Nicole, honey, I miss you like hell.”

“Sweetheart, I miss you too.”

The Senator burst out laughing again and the Australian sighed in exasperation.

Grainger said, “Frank, tell me about this girl, like, how old is she?”

“I’d guess about twenty-seven or twenty-eight.”

“Is she beautiful?”

“Yes, very.”

The Senator spread his hands in an expansive gesture and said, “Well if she was sitting across the table from me, instead of some hairy male antipodean, I might be able to get through this without cracking up.”

The Australian glared at him.

“So, I have to go out and buy a wig and get silicone injections?”

At that moment, they were interrupted by Maxie MacDonald coming out of the house.

He walked over and said, “Senator, I have some unpleasant news for you. I just got back from phoning Mexico. Miguel’s mother is fit and well. So well, in fact, that this morning she was able to go to a jewellery shop with her newly returned, obviously wealthy son. He bought her a very expensive bracelet.”

Suddenly there was no humour on Grainger’s face. He looked down at the table and muttered, “That bastard…we treated him so well.”

The two bodyguards remained silent and then Maxie said quietly, “Do you want anything done about it?”

“Like what?”

Maxie shrugged. “Well my friend down there is officially retired, but for a modest fee, probably less than the cost of the bracelet, he’ll be quite happy to blow Miguel’s head off…or any other part of his anatomy.”

Frank Miller watched the Senator’s face, watched him think about it. Finally, Grainger shook his head.

“Thanks, Maxie, but no. Let’s leave that kind of thing to the Morettis.”

Maxie shrugged again. “Whatever you say.”

“Pull your chair next to the Senator,” Frank said. “And if he starts laughing, hit him hard.” To Grainger, he said, “Now let’s get on with it.”

Grainger picked up the piece of paper and said, “OK. Let’s go. Nicole, honey, I miss you like hell.”

“Jim, sweetheart, I miss you too.”

Maxie MacDonald burst out laughing.

Miller snarled, “Go and do something useful.”

The Rhodesian walked away, still laughing.

“Don’t get upset,” Grainger said placatingly. “I know it’s important. I’ll concentrate now and don’t worry, Frank, at college I was in the theatre group and a damned good actor.” He smiled disarmingly. “Any good politician has to be a good actor.”

So they got on with it and this time it went well. Grainger’s voice was heavy with sincerity.

“Nicole, honey, I miss you like hell.”

“Jim, sweetheart, I miss you too.”

“There’s no way this can go on. I’ve got to see you.”

“But how, sweetheart? If you’ve got bodyguards draped on each arm, day and night?”

Grainger sighed and said with exasperation, “Honey, if it was just for a few days or even a couple of weeks, I could handle it. But this could go on for months…I’m gonna make an arrangement.”

“What kind of arrangement, Jim?”

“Honey, I’m gonna rent an apartment and find a way to sneak off for a couple of hours at a time.”

“But how, Jim?”

“Leave it to me, honey. As soon as I’ve found a place I’ll mail you the key. Then I’ll phone you later to set up a time.”

“I can’t wait, sweetheart…I’ve been very lonely.”

“Me too, honey. What with work and all this bodyguard shit. I need a bit of relaxation.”

Miller tried a girlish chuckle and said, “Just leave it to me, sweetheart.”

Grainger grinned, but kept his voice serious.

“I sure will, honey. Listen, I’ve got to run now. I’ll get back to you. Ciao.”

“Ciao,” Miller answered, then looked up and nodded in approval. “That was good, Senator, very good. We’ll run through it a couple more times, and then make the call tonight.”

“Now, I have a question,” the Senator said sternly.

“Go ahead.”

“When are you and your two side-kicks gonna stop calling me Senator and start calling me Jim?”

The Australian said seriously, “When we stop working for you, Senator…we prefer it that way…it won’t be long. Within a week it will be over.” He picked up a pen and flicked over his piece of paper. “Now I need the names and addresses of the restaurants here that you regularly eat at.”

“OK,” Grainger answered. “But first sketch me in on the plan.”

“The plan,” Miller answered, “is simple. All good plans are. We check out all the restaurants you give me and select one which gives you the opportunity to sneak out the back way. We then find and rent an apartment within five minutes’ drive from that restaurant. You set up a dinner with a couple of male friends. In the meantime, you’ll have mailed a key and the apartment number to Nicole. It’s necessary that the apartment building has several empty apartments. In the afternoon before the dinner you phone her up. You will of course have mentioned the name of the building on the phone, but not the apartment number. You’ll tell her that you’ll phone her at the rented apartment and tell her you don’t know when you’ll arrive exactly, but that you have to leave her at eleven p.m. sharp. Maxie will accompany you to the dinner and sit with you at the table. Rene will be outside the restaurant as normal. I’ll be in the apartment with Nicole. After the first course you will go to the men’s room and then sneak out the back. There’ll be a car waiting for you there, placed earlier. You’ll drive to the apartment. That’s one of the two exposure areas, but I’ll come to that later.” He reached forward and took a sip of his mineral water.

“Now the Morettis would have picked all that up from the bug. They’ll know the apartment building, but not the number. They’ll know your exact time of departure but not your time of arrival. If they have any brains, and they do, they’ll be ready to make the “snatch” outside the entrance to the building, when you emerge.”

“Why not inside?”

“Because over the next two or three days we’ll rent several apartments in that building under false names, so if they manage to get at the letting records, they won’t know which one Nicole is in.”

Grainger nodded and then said, “But as soon as I give her the name of the building they’ll have it under observation.”

“Sure, but during the afternoon or early evening they will see several young attractive women, who could all be a Senator’s mistress, entering the building. Nicole will already be in the apartment, apart from which, they don’t know what she looks like.”

Grainger thought that over and then asked, “When is the second moment of exposure?”

“When you emerge from the building at eleven o’clock. I’ll be right behind you but for a few seconds you’ll be exposed to sniper fire. After those few seconds, you’ll be back in the building until it’s over, which won’t take longer than half a minute.” He looked the Senator in the eyes and said, “I’m only allowing that exposure because we’re ninety-five per cent sure they’re planning a “snatch” and not an immediate kill.”

“But there is a risk?” the Senator asked.

“Sure,” Miller answered. “In this business, there always is. Have you been under fire before?”

“Yes, I was in Korea. Wounded there.”

“Well, this is another kind of war, Senator, but just as risky…Strangely enough, thanks to that shit Miguel, we have the advantage. We choose the place and time.” He looked at his watch.

“Now, I think it’s time to visit your good neighbour Gloria.”

“For what?”

“So we can phone Curtis Bennett. I need to talk to him.”

“About what?”

“About the surveillance on the Morettis’ soldiers. If within a day of your first phone call to Nicole a substantial number of them leave Detroit, then we know that they’ve taken the bait. I’ll give him some code sentences so he can phone here. If he does, I’ll be listening on an extension.”

The Senator stood and stretched his frame.

“OK,” he said. “By the way, where did you find this Nicole woman?”

“I didn’t,” Miller answered. “She came via Creasy.”

“She’s a girlfriend of his?”

“I didn’t ask.”

It was Mary Bennett who phoned at eight o’clock the next night. Grainger was sitting at his bar with Miller. He picked up the phone.

“Jim,” she said. “It’s Mary, how are you?”

“Fine, honey.” He gestured to Miller, who slipped off his stool, moved quickly into the kitchen and picked up the extension.

“Jim,” she said. “Are you going to be in Washington on the 5th of next month?”

“Sure, honey, I’m coming up around the end of the month and I’ll be there about three weeks. I plan to buy a smaller apartment. Maybe you could give me a hand with the furniture and decorating…I’m hopeless at that.”

“It’ll be a real pleasure, but I don’t have Harriot’s tastes.”

“You have fine taste, Mary. We’ll keep it simple…what’s happening on the 5th?”

“It’s Sunday and we’re having a barbecue. Not big, just about a dozen people, but fun people. Will you come?”

“Wild horses won’t keep me away,” he said. “Maybe we can discuss the apartment then. About what time?”