Why Pick On ME? (18 page)

While he had been dictating, he was aware of Babs’ breathless excitement. She drank in every word he was saying, her eyes round with surprise.

“I told you it was big time, didn’t I?” he said.

Ritchie’s voice broke in.

“Aren’t you alone?”

“Certainly not,” Corridon said. “I’m in the bedroom of a very charming little brunette, and she’ll be along with a chit from me tomorrow morning asking payment for twenty pounds. Pay her promptly, Colonel, or my line of communication is closed for good.”

Ritchie chuckled.

“Trust you to combine pleasure and business. Have you anything else for me? The report is excellent.”

“They plan to get rid of you.” Corridon said airily. “I’m to be in charge of the operation. It can happen any time, so keep your eyes open. When it is definitely fixed, I’ll try to tip you off, but if I can’t, I’ll do my best to see you aren’t hurt. Whatever happens, the news must get around you’re dead. It’s vital the operation should appear to have succeeded. If I pull it off, I’ll be accepted as a full member.”

“All right,” Ritchie said. “Have you any idea how it’ll happen?”

“Probably as you are leaving home in the evening. There’ll be two gunmen, a woman driving and me. The gunmen know their business, so watch out and carry a gun from now on.”

“Right,” Ritchie said. “Anything more?”

“How’s your pretty niece?”

“She’s all right, and out of harm’s way. She was asking after you.”

“She was? Well, keep an eye on her. So long, Colonel. You’ll be hearing from me. If you can, try and locate Baintrees. It shouldn’t be difficult. But don’t try to get anyone inside. It’s too dangerous. Okay?”

“I’ll find it. Watch yourself. You’re doing a fine job.”

“So long,” Corridon said, pleased. Ritchie rarely gave praise. He replaced the receiver.

“You mean all that stuff’s true?” Babs asked. “That man out there is really a spy?”

“You’ve heard nothing,” Corridon said. “Now look, kid, this is dynamite. One whisper from you and the whole setup will be blown sky-high, and me with it. These people are dangerous. They stop at nothing. If he suspects what we’re up to, he’ll wipe you out and Hildy too. You’ve got to keep your mouth shut. Understand?”

The hard look in his eyes frightened her.

“I won’t say a thing.”

“You’d better not. Not even to Hildy. You’re working for the Government now. I told you this is big time, and it is. These people are causing a lot of trouble. They’re out to upset our recovery, and if they keep on the way they’re going, they can do it. I’m sorry to have dragged you into this, but I had no alternative. You’re in it, and you’ve got to accept the responsibility. Otherwise you and Hildy and I will get our throats cut. And I’m not footing.” He stood up. “Come on. Don’t look so bewildered. It’s all right so long as you don’t talk. Let’s have a drink.”

He crossed the room, unlocked the door and looked into the sitting-room. It was deserted.

Ames, apparently, was still preoccupied.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

I

Two days later, as Corridon was making his way to the class-room, he ran into Homer.

“I was looking for you,” Homer said, showing his big, yellow teeth. “There’s to be a meeting in my office in ten minutes. I’d be glad if you would attend.”

“Certainly,” Corridon returned. “I’ll get my class going, and then I’ll be along.”

Homer continued to beam.

“We are very satisfied with your work, Mr. Corridon,” he said. “Ames speaks highly of you, and I don’t have to tell you he is an exceedingly difficult man to please.”

Corridon concealed a grin. Ames had every reason to be pleased with him. Hildy had been a big hit. Already Ames was making plans to visit the flat in Curzon Street with Corridon on the following Saturday. Corridon wondered how long it would be before Ritchie objected to the expense. Twenty pounds a week was a tall price for the new pleasure of hearing Corridon’s voice. So far he had nothing new to report. He hoped the meeting would provide some information that would justify the expense: otherwise he would have to find other means of communicating with Ritchie.

He gave his class a complicated code to decipher, and then went along to Homer’s office. On his way he met Kara who joined him.

“So at last we have work to do together,” she said, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes.

“Have we?”

“So I hear. It is an experience I look forward to,” she said “I see very little of you these days.”

Corridon made no comment. He rapped on Homer’s door, pushed it open and stood aside to allow her to enter first.

Homer sat at his desk. Diestl stood by the fireplace. Ames prowled about the room, his hands in his pockets. Two men Corridon hadn’t seen before, stood by the wall opposite the door.

“Come in,” Homer said, “and shut the door.” He waved to Kara to take her place beside the two men, and then motioned Corridon to a chair by his desk. “Sit down, Mr. Corridon. We have work for you to do.”

Corridon sat down. He glanced curiously at the two men. One of them was short and thickset with a lean, small-featured face and a mop of black hair as stiff and straight as the bristles of a broom. His deep-set eyes peered at Corridon through a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles. There were little clumps of bristles on his badly-shaven face and his flannel suit was threadbare and baggy.

His companion was younger: probably not more than eighteen. He too was shabby and unkept, and a lock of his long, lank black hair hung over his left eye. He was tall, thin, and weedy. His round suet-pudden of a face, his small shifty eyes, his weak, vicious mouth stamped him as a typical loafer you see any day in the amusement arcades in the West End.

Neither of these two were prepossessing, Corridon thought, and wondered what they were doing in Homer’s office. He soon learned.

Homer said, “We have decided Ritchie must go. Are you still prepared to do the job?”

Corridon nodded.

“Certainly.”

“Then ten days from today: May 20th, on the terms we have agreed. Is that all right?”

Again Corridon nodded.

“And the method?” Diestl asked. “I take it you have been giving this matter some consideration.”

“Yes,” Corridon said. “The method is simple enough. What is difficult and dangerous is putting the method into operation.”

“These three will help you,” Homer said, waving to Kara and the two men. “That is Charles MacAdams,” he went on indicating the man in the steel-rimmed spectacles. “And that is Chicho.” He waved to the youth. “Both of them are first-class revolver shots. You couldn’t have a better couple, and Kara, of course, will handle the car.”

Corridon nodded to the two men who stared at him, expressionless. MacAdams inclined his head, but Chicho gave no sign of recognition.

“Before I accept these three,” Corridon said smoothly, “I should have to satisfy myself they are as good as you say. This is a far too dangerous and important job to fool with. If they pass my tests, I’ll take them with me, but if they fail – I’ll want others. That is understood?”

“Certainly.” Ames said. “The responsibility is yours. You are at liberty to choose who you like, although we are satisfied these three are the best we have.”

Corridon nodded.

“I’ll test them this afternoon.”

“I should like to hear your plan,” Diestl said. “How do you propose to do the job?”

“Until these three have been tested it isn’t necessary for them to hear the plan,” Corridon said. He looked at the three. “Please go to the lounge and wait for me.”

MacAdams immediately moved to the door, but Kara and Chicho hesitated, looking inquiringly at Homer to see if he supported Corridon’s order.

“Get out!” Ames snarled, seeing their hesitation. “Didn’t you hear what he said?”

“Wait!” Corridon said, and stood up. “I want a complete understanding about this. These three must be under my control. I won’t take on the job unless they understand what I say goes. My orders must be obeyed, and if any of them even question what I say, he or she is to be punished.”

“Yes,” Diestl said. “We agree to that.” He looked at the three. “You understand? Corridon is to be obeyed.”

Kara smiled. The other two stared at Corridon with blank faces.

“All right,” Corridon said. “Now please wait in the lounge for me.”

When they had gone, he sat down again.

“Now for the plan,” he said. “Ritchie has a house in Stratford Road, a few minutes from Knightsbridge Underground Station. There are only twelve houses in the road; six on each side. The north end runs into Kensington Road, the south end into the Brompton Road. The road itself is quiet and lonely. Ritchie’s house is the last but one from Brompton Road end.” He leaned forward and took a sheet of paper from Homer’s desk. “I’ll draw a plan for you.” He made a quick rough sketch. Diestl and Ames came to the desk, and the three men watched Corridon’s pencil at work. “Ritchie leaves his house at ten o’clock every evening for a stroll in the Park,” Corridon went on as he completed the sketch. “He has done this for years.”

“A dangerous habit surely?” Homer said, raising his bushy eyebrows.

“Actually it isn’t. For one thing only those he trusts – and they are very few – know where he lives, and for another, he can more than look after himself.”

“And by that you mean…?” Diestl said.

“He is one of the best shots in the country, and that is saying something. He is a man of ferocious courage and has a highly-developed instinct for danger. He can draw a gun and kill you before you could wink an eyelid, and I am not exaggerating. That is why I say the job is highly dangerous. The chances of getting back here alive are small – unless the thing goes like clock-work. Even then I don’t guarantee we won’t have casualties.”

“If we take him by surprise…” Diestl began.

Corridon laughed.

“There’s no such word to Ritchie. Our only hope is for one of your gunmen to draw his fire while the other kills him. Naturally we need not go into that with MacAdams or Chicho, but I think you can be fairly sure one of them isn’t coming back alive.”

“So long as Ritchie goes,” Ames said with a brutal smile, “I don’t give a damn if neither of them come back.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Corridon said. “It’s possible none of us, except possibly Kara, who will be in the car, will get back, but Ritchie will be wiped out – that I promise you. Now look at this sketch. Here is Ritchie’s house. Here is a pillar-box a few yards from his front door and on the opposite side of the road. I propose to station Chicho behind this box. On the same side as Ritchie’s house there is a telephone booth. I shall stand in that, pretending to phone. From there I shall have an uninterrupted view of the road and the house. Neither MacAdams nor Chicho know Ritchie. There must be no mistake. I’ll signal to them when he appears. MacAdams will stand here by this tree. He will be in full view. It is his bad luck, but it is essential Ritchie should see him and suspect what he is up to. Ritchie will concentrate on MacAdams. I am hoping he won’t spot Chicho. MacAdams will fire first – if he gets the chance. It is almost certain Ritchie will fire. While he is concentrating on MacAdams, Chicho will pick him off. There’ll be no second chance. If Chicho fails, then we’re sunk. That’s why I want to satisfy myself both of them can shoot.”

“They can,” Ames said, “but by all means satisfy yourself.”

“And how will you get away?” Homer asked.

Corridon tapped the map.

“Kara will be in the car, parked at Brompton Road end of the street with the lights off. When the shooting is over, we sprint to the car and she’ll drive down the Brompton Road, up Exhibition Road to the Park. I want another car to be parked at Marble Arch Gate. We’ll leave Kara’s car, separate and make our way to the other car. If we are pursued, I will go in the car and the other three – or what’s left of them – will spilt up: Kara going by underground to Shepherd’s Bush, Chicho to Hammersmith Broadway and MacAdams to Park Royal. I’ll pick them up as we go.” He glanced at Ames. “Will you handle the second car?”

“Of course,” Ames said. He seemed pleased to be included in the plan.

“Wouldn’t it be better if MacAdams remained in Kara’s car and shot from there?” Diestl said. “It would give him some protection.”

Corridon smiled without humour.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to make up your mind to lose MacAdams. If Ritchie spotted a parked car outside his house he would be firing long before MacAdams ever raised his gun. Besides, the car would give Ritchie shelter from Chicho’s fire.”

“He’s right,” Ames said impatiently. “It’s a good plan. I approve.”

“Yes,” Homer said.

Diestl nodded.

“Yes, I’m satisfied. You can be ready in ten days?”

“In a week. From now until the day I will hold rehearsals. I propose to use part of the drive and construct the scene there. I take it I can use who I want to help me?”

“You do exactly what you think best,” Homer said, rubbing his fingertips together.

“The three must see the actual ground,” Corridon went on. “Can I send them separately to look at the road and house?”

“Of course,” Diestl said.

“I take it you would be reluctant to let me go down there on my own?” Corridon said with his jeering smile.

Homer waved his hands apologetically.

“When this assignment has been successfully concluded, you will be free to go where you like, Mr. Corridon. You appreciate that until Ritchie has been liquidated it would be a little lax on our part to let you out alone.”

“That’s all right,” Corridon returned. “I know the road well. I don’t need to go.” He felt in his hip pocket and pulled out his cigarette-case. “Then there’s only my fee to be considered. A thousand, I think we said. Five hundred down, and five hundred when the job is done.”

“A thousand when the job is done,” Diestl said quickly. “I’m sorry, Corridon, but your reputation is against you. I’ve heard about your down-payments.”

“Wait,” Homer said. “I feel we should make a concession. Mr. Corridon has been doing most useful work. He is practically a member of this organization. If he is to trust us, I think we should trust him.”