who was a soldier. He had come to kill his enemies.' Craig tensed, and she moved closer to him, not understanding. 'She had so little time. Like me… You've got a girl, haven't you? And you will go back to her, won't you, even after this?'
Craig began to say 'I must,' but she kissed him before he could answer, her body enfolding him, urging him to love.
At last they slept, and at dawn they bathed once more, then dressed and drove back to the hotel. Maria was there, with Grierson, who looked angry, and half asleep. Maria had been telling him all about Detroit.
'Hey, what happened to you two?' she asked.
'We went for a moonlight swim,' said Sophie.
'We've just been talking. I propositioned him, but he turned me down.' She seemed surprised.
Sophie looked at Craig. He shook his head.
'I think mine did too,' she said.
Maria laughed, and swept her hand across the open strings of her guitar.
CHAPTER 14
Ashford came in next day from Nice. He was tall, dark, elegant, and on edge. These two men, he knew, were very special, very tough. They looked it. The dark one, the one he'd met before, wasn't too bad, might even turn out to be sympathique in other circumstances, but the other one, the one with the beard, the one who was forcing him to do this terrible thing-an absolute iron man, brutal and determined. He would be glad to get away and leave things to these stormtroopers. His voice, as he talked to them, was bitter.
Grierson said, 'Take it easy. You're supposed to be on our side. That's why John's paying you.'
'I'm sorry,' said Ashford. 'The whole thing's been a terrible strain for me. They've nearly been on to me twice. I've been on this job for weeks.'
'You'll be off it as soon as our mutual friend gets back,' said Grierson.
'He's due back at his office tomorrow,' Ashford said. 'It's in the rue Desmoulins, that's off the Place Mas- sena. He'll go there first, then to the villa. That's almost in Villefranche. I'll know more or less what his movements will be by this evening. If you like, I'll stay on here till you've done-it.'
'There's no need,' said Craig.
'You may need me,' said Ashford. 'He's a very wicked man. If he weren't, I wouldn't be helping you. But he is. Absolutely evil. He destroys people. He's destroying my friend. I won't let him do that.' He paused, then went on: 'You promised me that Captain La Valere won't be hurt.'
'He won't be,' Craig said.
'He isn't wicked, not like the other one. But the things he has to do-they're destroying him. Turning him into a beast. It's awful to sit there and watch someone you love being degraded like that. Worked on-like so much clay. I won't let him do it.' He shuddered. 'I think you'd better drive into Nice today. I've booked you in at the Rialto. That's on the Promenade des Anglais. Drop around for drinks at the new Casino at nine o'clock. I'll try to have some news for you.'
'We'll be there,' Craig said.
'Good.' Ashford stood up to go. 'I really must get back. I've simply loads to do.'
When he left, Craig asked, 'What does he do?'
'He designs beach clothes,' Grierson said, 'for the fuller figure.'
'That's a funny way to learn to be brave.' Craig said.
Grierson wanted to leave but Craig wouldn't hurry. They had all day to go to Nice, he said. St. Briac's people didn't know they were there, and they had a lot of time to kill before they were due to see Ashford. They were safer in St. Tropez.
'You want to see that French girl again,' Grierson said.
'I like her,' Craig said. 'Why shouldn't I be with someone I like for a little while?'
In his mind were the memories of his last meeting with McLaren, and, by contrast, the sense of responsibility he felt for Tessa, and now this new delight in Sophie's company. They didn't make it any easier for him to kill St. Briac. At one time they would have made no difference at all, but now the difference was there, and he could feel it. Now it was life he cared about, not death. Death was all he knew, his driving-force, his livelihood, his passion. He had killed quickly, neatly, as an animal kills; without remorse. That he would do so again he did not doubt, for St. Briac had to die; but this time would be the last. McLaren had been right about him that night in Sicily, but that was because McLaren had imagined him as a man alone, always alone.
He hadn't considered the possibility of women like Tessa and Sophie, enriching his life, yet endangering it too.
'It's not your business to like people,' Grierson said.
'Look,' said Craig, 'when the job starts, I'll do what I have to do. Till then I'll make my own amusements. I'll even like a girl if I want to.' He yawned and stretched in the sun-warmed room.
'They said they'd be at the Plage de Tahiti,' he said to Grierson. 'I'm going there too.'
Grierson grumbled, but went with him.
On the beach the bodies of both men were rich and golden, among the golden riches of the sand. Row upon row the other bodies lay, like sardines waiting to be canned: fat, ungainly bodies; thin, unpadded bodies; and, infrequently, bodies elegant, proportioned, splendid. Craig saw a golden head moving parallel with the shore, and ran to the sea, waded, leaped in a flat, smacking dive, swam toward her in a fast crawl. Grierson watched him, and shook his head in angry admiration. Surely there must be something he couldn't do well.
Craig swam out to Sophie, dived beneath her, reappearing at her other side. The girl continued to swim with an unhurried elegance of movement.
'Have you changed your mind?' she asked.
'I can't,' Craig said. 'I'm sorry, Sophie.'
'I'm sorry too,' Sophie said, then turned to him, was in his arms, and the two, clinging together, sank beneath the surface of the sea, kissing, kissing, her nearly naked body pressed firmly to his. When they came up, she broke free, and swam toward the shore. He followed her slowly, lazily, and they waded in together.
'I don't think you'll forget me,' she said.
He looked at her. She wore a blue and white bikini of a cloth that looked like gingham, and her skin glowed dark gold against the white gold of her hair. Her body was full to plumpness, rounded, feminine, the richness of her breasts disciplined by their perfect shape. She could not fail to satisfy, and even as she did so, create a new desire. Her body, like her mind, mirrored her utter content in being a woman. She took his hand and pressed it to her naked hip.
'No. You won't forget me,' she said.
'I wouldn't want to,' said Craig.
She came closer to him, looking into his eyes, and he looked back at her, telling her nothing, the eyes just eyes, no warmth in them at all.
'You've only just met me,' he said. 'I gave you a lift and we were together for one day. That's all. If things had been different-'
'But they're not,' she said. 'This other woman is too important.'
Craig said nothing.
'If she ever leaves you, I want you to come and tell me, John. Will you promise that?' 'I promise,' Craig said.
Sophie said bitterly, 'She won't leave you. Not unless she's a fool-and you wouldn't choose a fool.'
She turned and took his arm, and led him up the beach.
'One thing is different this morning,' she said. 'We have a millionaire. An American millionaire. Come and see.'
She took him to a stretch of beach that was almost empty when every other place was packed.
'He rented it all,' said Sophie. 'He doesn't like crowds. And yet he wants us to sleep with him, John. Isn't that strange?'
