“Oh, I still have considerable influence on this island,” Russo told him. “My name is enough. To start with, I’ll call the receptionist at the Sanders Hotel.”
He took out his mobile and made the call. “This is Russo. What can you tell me about an Irishman called Fitzgerald? Moved in, then moved out. Where did he go?”
The call lasted several minutes. He finally switched off. “Interesting. He left on the overnight ferry for Khufra on the Algerian coast, two hundred miles away. Apparently he’s a friend of Dr. Tomac, who owns the Trocadero and just about everything else in Khufra and is, on occasion, a business associate of mine.”
“Go on,” Dillon said.
Russo did, not forgetting to mention Levin and Greta.
“Well, we know who he is and she’s the mysterious Mary Hall,” Dillon said.
“So what’s your connection with this Dr. Tomac?”
“Cigarette smuggling mainly. There’s more money in that than hard drugs these days, and the court sentences are infinitely smaller. I have a diving concession there. Eagle Deep. It’s exceptional diving. Special clients book me to fly them over in one of my floatplanes.”
“Would we be special clients?” Dillon asked.
“Well, let’s say I owe you, my friend, and anyway, as we’re not into the tourist season, there isn’t much trade and I’m bored and this sounds interesting.”
“Then let’s do it,” Dillon said. “I couldn’t be happier.”
At Tijola, Russo gave Pedro his orders when they loaded the plane, then said to Dillon, “You’re still flying?”
“I keep my hand in.”
“Then it’s all yours.”
He sat beside Dillon, Billy behind. Dillon strapped himself in, fired the engine, allowed the Eagle to slip down the runway into the harbor, let the wheels up and called the tower at Ibiza airport. He indicated his destination; there was a pause and then he got the good word. He taxied out to sea past the end of the pier, turned into the wind and boosted power. He pulled back the column at exactly the right moment and the Eagle climbed effortlessly over an azure sea and lifted.
“How’s it feel?” Russo asked.
“Couldn’t be better.”
Russo opened the map compartment, reached in and produced a Browning. “I presume you two are tooled up?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good, because this is the Khufra we’re going to, where anything goes.”
THE KHUFRA
9
Dr. Henry Tomac was very large, sixteen or seventeen stone, wore a creased fawn linen suit and a Panama hat, even though he was sitting at a booth at his pride and joy, the Trocadero. Awnings at the front kept it cool and dark, the great fans in the ceiling rotating relentlessly.
The barmen were Algerians, dressed in white shirts and trousers, scarlet bands at the waist, the headwaiter wearing a scarlet tarbush. You could eat at the Trocadero as well as drink, and the company was mixed and very rough, but Tomac had a number of villainous-looking men who kept things in order, because Tomac demanded order and what Tomac said went in Khufra town.
He sat at his private booth, waving the odd fly out of the way when Dermot Fitzgerald entered, worked his way through the tables, put down his bag and stood there.
“May I join you?”
“Dear boy. Of course you may. Champagne, Abdul,” he called to the headwaiter.
“You may not want to.”
“Oh, dear, have you been a bad boy again?” He savored the champagne Abdul poured. “All right, tell me.”
“So this Russian agent Levin and the Novikova woman, you got word that they were coming, that’s it? And you’ve come over because you’re worried they might intend to do away with you?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, they are. The receptionist at Sanders Hotel gave me a phone call earlier. Told me about a couple, a good-looking man and woman, most interested in your whereabouts. It fits in neatly with a call I’ve had from Captain Omar at the airstrip, about a Russian executive jet, and a good-looking man and woman, on their way here. Their pilot brought them in on behalf of Belov International. I’m impressed, Dermot.”
“What can I do?”
“Well, I’m not sure – because there’s
“Who?”
Tomac told him.
Fitzgerald was totally thrown. “I don’t know this person. Mafia? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes, well, he obviously knows you. He flies floatplanes here, runs a dive center. Maybe he’s acting for certain people in London who’d like to lay hands on you. You seem to be in demand, Dermot.”
“Help me, for God’s sake.”
“It will cost you.”
“How much? I can pay well.”
“Get out of sight. You can use my apartment. If necessary, I’ll send you to the house at Zarza in the marshes, or one of the diving boats might be better. We’ll see.”
Fitzgerald cleared off, and a few moments later, Levin and Greta appeared, followed by a waiter with their bags. They paused at the top of the stairs, Greta causing quite a stir, then came down and crossed to the bar. Tomac stood up.
“Miss Hall.” He put her hand to his lips. “No more delightful visitor has graced my poor establishment.”
“Dr. Tomac.”
“At your service.” It was like a game they were playing.
“I dislike subterfuge. For good reasons I have been traveling incognita. I am, in fact, Major Greta Novikova. This is Captain Igor Levin of the Russian GRU. We’re here on State business, serious business.”
Tomac managed to look grave. “Please join me. Have the bags sent to the rooms, Abdul. Have some champagne served. This is obviously a matter of the highest importance. Have you spoken of this to Captain Omar, our chief of police?”
As the champagne arrived, Greta said, “In Ibiza we were told that in Khufra there was only one person worth talking to, and that is you, Doctor.”
“You flatter me, Major.” He toasted them. “Your very good health. Now, in what way may I assist you?”
“We seek a young man named Dermot Fitzgerald.”
“For what reason?”
“To save him from those who mean him more than ill will,” she said. “His life could be in danger.”
“Two men, we suspect,” Levin said. “One called Dillon – Irish. The other, Salter.”
“Good heavens.” Tomac managed to look shocked, and at that moment a plane roared quite low overhead.
“What would that be?” Greta asked.
Tomac glanced out. “Oh, a floatplane from Ibiza, Eagle Air. They come in all the time and tie up by the dive center. Look, this is all very disturbing. Why don’t you settle into your rooms and we’ll talk again?”
