Not the Mafia, anyway — ?'
The Honourable Charles Renshaw had assimilated those
'bare details' — and had quickly eliminated the accident of Peter Richardson's private life from them, quite rightly: the Mafia was prepared to tangle with anyone in the West, any time. But it wasn't prepared or willing to fight a war on two fronts when there was no profit in the East, as well as no comforting democratic legal process.
'The Mafia is irrelevant, Charlie.' Actually, the Mafia had been very useful, in frightening Peter into hiding, quite coincidentally. 'There's just Lukianov and his clients, for the other two sides.'
'So why did Kulik have to die?' Mary Franklin hit the Berlin problem on the nail. 'Are you suggesting that he was double-crossed? That he was just bait for you, D —Dr Audley?'
She'd almost said 'David'! 'I don't know, Miss Franklin —
Mary?' He wasn't ashamed with himself for being pleased at attempting her Christian name. 'But Zimin didn't deny that Peter Richardson had been betrayed, before he had those two Arabs killed.' He blanked out the memory of Zimin's cold-hearted order before it could frighten him too much, with its implication of his own escape, which had been too narrow for easy recollection. 'Only he wasn't expecting two of them: he dummy1
was expecting just one, like in Berlin, not two. And that was why he lost one of his men, when things went wrong.' All the same, that might have saved the 'celebrated' Dr Audley. 'At least, that's the way it looked — the way the Italians thought it was.' He shook his head honestly. 'And ... he said 'Arab', in the singular — I know that.' This time he shook his head, just as honestly. 'I'm still guessing — or, as Len would put it more diplomatically, 'interpreting' . . . But I think Peter Richardson agreed to see me because things were getting too hot for him, with the Italian authorities and the Mafia both on his tail. And, if the Italians had brought me into the business, he maybe thought he could make a deal with them, through me.' He shrugged. 'It could even be that Lukianov's Arab friends had also come looking for him. But he might well have mistaken them for Mafia-types, on contract —I don't know . . . Only, whatever he thought, the rendezvous was blown, both to the Arabs and — fortunately for me — to the Russians, too. It's even possible the Mafia helped out with that, with one or other of them.'
'The Mafia has links with Abu Nidal,' Mary Franklin nodded.
'The KGB isn't so keen on either of them these days, though.'
'But this was top-priority — ' Charlie Renshaw stopped himself. 'Go on, David.'
'The rest is factual. Zimin wanted Peter alive, to squeeze him.
Lukianov's Arabs wanted him dead, to make sure he couldn't be squeezed. And Zimin wasn't going to risk that happening.
My arrival put him off his stroke, but as soon as he knew I dummy1
was by myself he went ahead, and gave the order. But, of course, it wasn't neatly done, because of the second Arab, as I've said.' He gave Renshaw a rueful nod. 'I am guessing. But the undeniable fact is, Charlie, that everything went wrong for everyone — both in Berlin and Capri. And, in my experience, that's what usually happens when there are too many cooks mixing the broth.'
'Mmm . . .' That was Charlie Renshaw's experience too, obviously. 'I take it that Zimin has also disappeared from the scene now, like Major Richardson, Henry?'
Jaggard nodded. 'The Italians are almost certain that Richardson was the pseudo-American — 'Dalingridge', Charles. So that puts him in France.'
'En route here.' Renshaw stroked his chin. 'But otherwise we're none the wiser as to what Lukianov is offering the Arabs. Except, if Len is right about General Voyshinski's unexpected arrival, here is also where Lukianov intends to transact his business.'
Jaggard sat back. 'Neutral ground, maybe? Apart from which, if David has interpreted Zimin's words and actions correctly, the Russians themselves don't know what's on offer. So they are in the dark also. But if David is right about Richardson coming home, then we may have the edge on them yet. Because, even if he doesn't contact us ... or, as the case may be, David himself ... we should be able to rely on Commander Pitt picking him up in due course. And then we'll know what it is that David has forgotten.'
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That was neat. Put like that, all they had to do was to wait, and if things went wrong either he or Billy Pitt could take the responsibility, for guessing wrong or incompetence respectively.
'No.' Butler grunted explosively.
'Jack — ?' Renshaw looked at Butler expectantly.
''Due course' won't do.' Butler nodded to Billy Pitt. 'No disrespect to you or your men — or your organization —
Commander. But Major Richardson is a trained man.' And that was all Commander Pitt was getting. 'The Russians are treating this as an urgent matter — '
'The Russians —' began Jaggard.
'But it is not the Russians who particularly concern me first, Mr Renshaw.' Butler ignored Henry Jaggard. 'It is the man Lukianov and the Arabs. Because, if they frighten the Russians so much, then by God they also frighten me. And I have no reason to believe that I'm not the only one they are frightening.'
'What — ?' Renshaw frowned at Jaggard. 'Henry — ?'
'Colonel Jacob Shapiro is in London.' Butler got in first.
'Right, Mr Jaggard?'
The wily old bugger! thought Audley admiringly. 'Jake Shapiro — ?'
'Who is — ' Renshaw was torn between the three of them ' —
Colonel . . . Jake Shapiro?' He settled on Audley. 'David?'
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