During the past few days she had learned from scribbled notes on Shalik's desk and from overhearing him talk to Sherborn that something important was being planned that concerned a man named Max Kahlenberg who until this moment had meant nothing to her.
All Shalik's private correspondence was typed by Sherborn. Natalie's job was to arrange Shalik's appointments, his lunches and dinners and to act as hostess at his cocktail parties as well as taking care of the hundred and one personal matters that made his life smooth and easy.
'I don't think I can help there,' she said, dismay in her voice. 'I'm excluded from Mr. Shalik's business life, but I do know something is going on to do with a man called Kahlenberg.'
Burnett smiled.
'I can help you, Miss Norman. Your task will be absurdly easy. Let me explain. . .'
Twenty minutes later, she accepted a plastic shopping bag he had ready which contained a miniature tape- recorder, six reels of tape and a very special eavesdropping microphone.
'The quality of the recordings, Miss Norman, will naturally influence the amount of money I will pay you. However, if you are urgently in need of a thousand pounds and providing you give me something of interest, the money will be available.'
Now, after eight days, he was here in her flat, his fat, purple face creased in a smile, his blood red carnation a status symbol.
'My dear Miss Norman, what is all the urgency about?'
During the past three days, Burnett's microphone had eavesdropped.
During the past eight days Daz had slept with her, sweeping her into a world of technicolor eroticism. She had promised him the money and he was prepared to service her, telling himself that in the dark, all cats were grey.
'I have information regarding Mr. Kahlenberg which you will wish to hear,' Natalie said. The whisky she had drunk made her feel reckless and light headed.
'Splendid.' Burnett crossed one fat leg over the other. 'Let me hear it.'
'Mr. Shalik is arranging to steal the Caesar Borgia ring from Mr. Kahlenberg,' Natalie said. 'I have three tapes, recording the details of the operation and who are involved.'
'The Borgia ring?' Burnett was surprised. 'So he is after that? My congratulations, Miss Norman. Play me the tapes.'
She shook her head.
'I want one thousand pounds in ten pound notes before you hear the tapes, Mr. Burnett.'
His smile became fixed.
'Now, Miss Norman, that won't do. How do I know you even have the tapes? I must hear them . . . let us be reasonable.'
She had the tape-recorder already loaded and she let him listen to three minutes conversation between Shalik and Garry Edwards, then as Shalik was saying, 'All that will be explained tonight. You will not be alone. The risks and responsibilities will be shared,' she pressed the stop button.
'But nothing so far has been said about Mr. Kahlenberg,' Burnett pointed out, looking hungrily at the tape recorder.
'When you have brought me the money, you will hear the rest, but not before.'
They regarded each other and Burnett saw it would be useless to try to persuade her. He got to his feet, reminding himself that one thousand pounds meant as much to Max Kahlenberg as one penny meant to the Prime Minister of England.
Two hours later, his Saturday afternoon ruined, Burnett was back with the money. He listened to the tapes, his fat, purple face becoming more and more startled. He realized as he listened that he was getting these tapes cheaply.
'Splendid, Miss Norman,' he said as she wound off the last tape. 'Really splendid. You have certainly earned your fee. Any further information you can get like that I will, of course, pay you as handsomely.'
'There won't be a next time,' Natalie said. Her face was white and her expression of self-loathing startled Burnett. She thrust the tiny tape recorder at him. 'Take it away!'
