the long aisle towards Gate 10. He paused at the bookstall to buy the New York Times and a couple of paperbacks, then as he was starting on his way again, there was an announcment over the tannoy.
'There will be a one hour delay on Flight AF 025 to New York. Will passengers for New York please go to the reception centre? They will be informed when to proceed to Gate 10.'
Sherman flinched. This could be dangerous. The longer he remained at the airport, the greater the chances were of his being recognised.
'Tiresome, isn't it? Especially for you,' a quiet voice said at his side.
Sherman started and swung around, then stiffened as he stared at the short, squat man who had come up silently and was now standing before him.
This man had hooded eyes, a thick hooked nose and the deeply tanned complexion of a man who travels a lot in the sun.
He wore a black slouch hat and a dark English tweed suit, impeccably cut. Over his arm, he carried a light- weight black cashmere overcoat. A large diamond glittered in his tie. Another large diamond set in a heavy gold ring, glittered on his thick, little finger. His shirt, the handkerchief in his top pocket, his lizard skin black shoes were immaculate. He exuded power, money and luxury as he might well do for that squat man was Herman Radnitz, internationally known as one of the richest men in the world whose thick ringers spread like the tentacles of an octopus over the whole of the financial globe; a deadly spider sitting in the middle of his web moving bankers, statesmen and even minor kings as a chess player moves his pawns.
Radnitz was the last man on earth Sherman expected or wanted to see. He knew immediately that Radnitz was far too astute not to have recognised him. There was no question of attempting a bluff.
'We mustn't be seen talking together,' Sherman said hurriedly. 'It's too dangerous.'
'Yet we will talk,' Radnitz said in his guttural voice. 'The door marked A.' He pointed. 'Go in there, I will join you.'
I am sorry, Radnitz, I...'
'You have no alternative,' Radnitz said. He paused, his hooded eyes were little pools of ice water as he stared up at Sherman, 'Or do you imagine you have?'
The threat was unmistakable. Sherman only hesitated for a brief moment, then he nodded and walked away, his heart now hammering, his breathing uneven. He reached the door marked A, opened it and stepped into a luxuriously furnished waiting-room - a room, he guessed, reserved for V.I.Ps.
A few seconds later, Radnitz joined him. He closed the door and turned the key.
'May I ask what you are doing here, Sherman?' he asked with deadly politeness. 'You are travelling on a false passport and wearing a ridiculous false moustache. Are you mentally ill?'
Sherman drew himself up to his full imposing height. Although he was frightened of Radnitz, he was determined to retain his dignity. After all, he reminded himself, he was the future President of the United States. This squat German must remember this.
I don't know what you mean! I'm perfectly well. If you are all that interested, I had to come here on urgent and private business. It was so urgent I had to resort to this - this subterfuge.'
Radnitz sat down in a big lounging chair. He took a seal-skin cigar case from his pocket, selected a cigar, nipped off the end of it with a gold cutter, then slowly and deliberately lit it. It was only when he was satisfied that the cigar was burning evenly that he again looked at Sherman who was now sitting on the arm of a chair opposite him, wiping his sweating face nervously with his handkerchief.
'Sufficiently urgent and sufficiently private for you to endanger your election as President of the United States?' Radnitz asked softly.
I can't discuss this with you!' Sherman's voice was sharp. 'I wouldn't be here unless it was vitally urgent.'
'My dear Sherman, I think you must be forgetting our bargain.' Radnitz's face was now a cold, forbidding mask, 'May I remind you that the money that is making it possible for you to become the President of the United States amounts to $35,000,000. May I also remind you that the money that is making this possible is half mine . . . that I have put up half this sum from my own personal funds.' He leaned forward, his eyes suddenly alight with a contained, but burning rage.
'Do you imagine I will tolerate stupid behaviour from any man who owes me such a sum? Stupid behaviour? That is putting it mildly. You have been reckless and I consider the risk you have taken coming here disgraceful! If someone recognises you . . . some cheap hack of a newspaper man . . . anyone . . . your chances of becoming President are completely and utterly damned and my money will be lost. I promised you that I would make you President. In turn, you promised me the Arcadia Dam contract. Now here you are in this ridiculous disguise . .. here in Paris.'
Sherman squirmed uneasily. It was true that he and Radnitz had made a bargain. Radnitz wanted the contract to build the Arcadia Dam ... the biggest and most expensive project on the agenda of the coming term which would cost the nation $500,000,000. Sherman had agreed that Radnitz should not only get the contract if he (Sherman) became President, but would receive five per cent of the total cost for his fee. Sherman knew that if it wasn't for Radnitz's enormous political influence and his fantastic wealth, he would not have been nominated for the Presidency in spite of his own personal wealth. So they had made the bargain.
Sherman fell back on his charm that had won over so many of his opponents, but in this small, luxury room, he realised that his charm didn't make much impact.
He forced a smile as he said, 'Now, Radnitz, there is no need for you to worry. You wouldn't have known of this visit of mine but for this chance meeting ... no one else does.'
'Chance? You say I wouldn't have known?' the guttural voice grated on Sherman's ears. 'I knew when you left New York. I knew you were in Paris. I know you have met Dorey of the CIA. That is why I am here - two hours ahead of my flight to Rabut. I am here because I want to know why you have taken this irresponsible risk. I demand to know!'
Sherman stared at him, shrinking a little under the glaring rage that burned from the small, venomous eyes.
'You knew?' Sherman felt blood leaving his face. 'I don't believe it! How could you know?'
Radnitz made a savage, impatient movement with his hand.
'You are an important investment, Sherman. I have agents who are well paid to keep me informed about all my investments... especially you. I am asking you why you are here.'
Sherman licked his dry lips.
'This is a private matter. It is nothing to do with you. I can't discuss it.'
Radnitz drew on his cigar. His hooded eyes never left Sherman's sweating face.
'Why did you go to Dorey and not to me?'
Sherman hesitated, then he said with an effort. 'Dorey was my only hope for help. He and I have been friends for a long time ... I mean real friends.'
Radnitz's thin lips curved into a pitying smile.
'So you don't consider me as a friend?'
Sherman looked directly at him, then slowly shook his head.
'No... I look on you as a powerful associate, but not as my friend.'
'So you have put your trust in a fool like Dorey?' Radnitz touched the ash off his cigar and it dropped onto the thick, green carpet. 'You begin to worry me. I am now wondering if you have the personality, the authority and the necessary leadership to make for a great President.' He leaned forward. 'Don't you realise that if you are in urgent, personal trouble, you don't go to friends? You come to people like myself who has an investment in you and who knows how to handle any kind of trouble. So tell me . . . what is this personal and urgent trouble of yours?'
'Dorey is no fool!' Sherman exclaimed. 'He is handling this and I am satisfied he will produce results!'
'I asked you: what is this personal and urgent trouble? I have a right to know.'
Sherman thought rapidly. Perhaps he had been irresponsible in rushing off to Paris to consult Dorey who had only been able to offer him the services of a man who Dorey had admitted was something of a crook. Maybe he (Sherman) should have consulted Radnitz and dumped the whole sordid affair in his lap, but Mary had been against consulting Radnitz.
She feared and hated this fat, squat German. When Sherman had asked her if she thought he should see
