“Passengers are rotated for the privilege. A normal courtesy.
See you then.”
They had just seated themselves at the table when a steward approached, bent and whispered something discreetly into the captain’s ear. The captain rose, excused himself and followed the steward from the dining saloon. He was back inside two or three minutes, looking more than vaguely perturbed. “Odd,” he said. “Very odd. Carter — you’ve met him, he’s chief purser — claims that he has just been assaulted by some thug. ›Mugged‹, I believe, is the American term for it. You know, caught round the neck from behind and choked. No marks on him, but he does seem a trifle upset.” Harper said: “Couldn’t he just have taken a turn?” “If he did, then his wallet left his inside pocket of its own volition.”
“In which case he’s been attacked and his wallet — minus the contents, of course — is now probably at the bottom of the Atlantic. Shall I have a look at him?”
“It might be wise. Berenson is holding hands with some silly old trout who thinks she’s having a heart attack. Thank you, Doctor. I’ll get a steward to take you.”
Harper left. Bruno said: “That pleasant, courteous man. Who would rob a person like that?”
“I don’t think Carter’s character would come into it. Just someone who was short of money and reasoned that if any person would be liable to be carrying money it would be the ship’s purser. An unpleasant thing to have happen on one’s ship — in fact I’ve never known or heard of an instance before. I’ll have my chief officer and some men investigate.” Bruno smiled. “I hope we circus people don’t automatically come under suspicion. Among some otherwise reasonable citizens our reputation is not what it could be. But I don’t know more honest people.”
“I don’t know who is responsible, and the question, I’m afraid, is of academic importance anyway. I don’t think my chief has a hope in hell of finding him.”
Bruno leaned over the taffrail of the Carpentaria, gazing contemplatively at the slight phosphorescence of the ship’s wake. He stirred and turned as someone came up beside him. He said: “Anyone in the vicinity?”
“No one,” Manuelo said.
“No bother?”
“No bother.” The startlingly white teeth gleamed in the darkness. “You were quite right. The unfortunate Mr Carter does indeed take a regular — what do you call it —?” “Constitutional.”
“Right. Takes his constitutional at that time of evening on the boat deck. Lots of shadows on the boat deck. Kan Dahn kind of leaned on him a little bit, Roebuck took the purser’s cabin keys, brought them down to me and kept watch in the passageway while I went inside. It didn’t take long. There was a funny electrical gadget inside a brief-case —” “I think I know about that. Looked like a small radio except there were no wave-bands on it?”
“Yes. What is it?”
“A device for locating listening devices. They’re a very suspicious lot aboard this boat.”
“With us around you’re surprised?”
“What else?”
“There was fifteen hundred dollars, in tens, at the bottom of a trunk —”
“I didn’t know about that. Used?”
“No. New. And in sequence.”
“How careless.”
“Looks like.” He handed a piece of paper to Bruno. “I wrote down the serial numbers of the first and last numbers.” “Good, good. You’re quite sure they were genuine notes?” “My life on it. I wasn’t in all that hurry and I passed one out to Roebuck. He agrees.”
“That was all?”
“There were some letters addressed to him. Not to any particular address but to Poste Restante in a few cities, mostly London and New York.”
“What language? English?”
“No. I didn’t recognize it. The postmark said Gdynia. That would make it Polish, wouldn’t it?”
“It would indeed. Then everything was left as found, door locked and the keys returned to the sleeping Mr Carter.” Manuelo nodded. Bruno thanked him, left, returned to his stateroom, glanced briefly at the serial numbers on the piece of paper that Manuelo had given him then flushed it down the toilet.
To no one’s surprise, Carter’s assailant was never found. On the evening before their arrival in Genoa Dr Harper came to Bruno’s stateroom. He helped himself to a Scotch from Bruno’s virtually untouched liquor cabinet. He said: “How goes the thinking on this entry business?
Mine, I’m afraid, has bogged down to a halt.” Bruno said gloomily: “Maybe it would have been better, especially for the sake of my health, if mine had bogged down, too.”
Harper sat up in his armchair and pursed his lips. “You have an idea?”
“I don’t know. A glimmering, perhaps. I was wondering — have you any further information for me? Anything at all? About the interior layout of the west building and how to gain access to the ninth floor. Take the roof. Is there any access by way of ventilator shafts, trapdoors or suchlike?” “I honestly don’t know.”
“I think we can forget the ventilator shafts. In a maximum security place like this the air circulation probably vents through the side walls and would have impossibly narrow exit apertures. Trapdoors, I would have thought, they must have. How else could the guards get up to their towers or the electricians service the electric fence when the need arises. I can hardly see them climbing up ninety feet high vertical steel ladders bolted to an inside wall. Do you know whether the Lubylan runs to lifts?”
“That I do know. There’s a stairs shaft runs from top to bottom in each building with two lifts on either side of the shafts.” “Presumably it services the ninth floor as well as the rest. That means that the lift-head — you know, where they have the pulley mechanism for the cables — must protrude above the roof. That could provide a way in.”
“It would also provide an excellent way of having yourself crushed to death if you were descending the shaft as the lift came up. It’s happened before, you know, and not seldom either, with service men working on top of a lift.” “That’s a risk. Walking a frozen two thousand volt cable in a high wind — we have to assume the worst — isn’t a risk? What’s on the eighth floor? More laboratories?”
“Oddly, no. That belongs to the east building — the detention centre. The senior prison officers and the prison office staff sleep there — maybe they can’t stand the sound of the screams, maybe they don’t want to be around in the detention centre if the enemies of the State do manage to break loose — I don’t know. All the prison offices and records offices are kept there. Apart from the guards’ sleeping quarters and dining quarters, all of the detention centre is given over to cells. Apart, that is, from a few charming places in the basement which are euphemistically referred to as interrogation centres.”
Bruno looked at him consideringly. “Would it be out of order for me to enquire where you get all this detailed information from? I thought that no stranger would ever be allowed inside and that no guard would ever dare talk.”
“Not at all. We have, as they say, our man in Crau. Not an American, a native. He was imprisoned some fifteen years ago for some trifling political offence, became what we would call a trusty after a few years and had the complete run of the building. His privileged position did not affect in the slightest the complete and total hatred he nourishes for the regime in general and Lubylan and all those who work inside it in particular. He fell into our hands like an overripe apple from a tree. He still drinks with the guards and warders from the Lubylan and one way or another manages to keep us reasonably up to date with what’s going on. It’s over four years since he’s been discharged but the guards still regard him as a trusty and talk freely, especially when he plies them with vodka. We provide the money for the vodka.”
“It’s a messy business.”
“All espionage and counter-espionage is. The glamour quotient is zero.”
“The problem still remains. There may just be a solution. I don’t know. Have you mentioned any of this to Maria yet?” “No. Plenty of time. The fewer people who know —” “I’d like to talk to her tonight. May I?”
Harper smiled. “Three minds are better than two? That’s hardly a compliment to me.”
“If you only knew it, it is. I can’t afford to have you too closely involved with anything I’m doing. You’re the coordinator and the only person who really knows what is going on — I still don’t believe that you have told me everything I might know, but it doesn’t seem all that important any more. Besides, I have courted the young lady assiduously — although it was under instructions I haven’t found the task too disagreeable — and people are accustomed to seeing us together now.” Harper smiled without malice. “They’re also accustomed to seeing young
