but it’s a pretty well-informed guess. The Russians had by this time despaired of returning her to the fold. They had also suspicions as to her role as Caliph. They decided on a radical cure for their onetime star agent. They either financed and organized the assassination attempt themselves, or they tipped off Mossad that she had murdered
Aaron Altmann. I would be inclined to believe that they hired the killers themselves because the Mossad usually do their own dirty work. Anyway, with NKVD or Mossad as paymasters, an ambush was set up on the Rambouillet road and you drove into it. I know you don’t like coincidence, Peter, but I believe it was merely coincidence that you were driving the Baroness’s Maserati that night.”
“All right,” Peter murmured. “If I swallow the rest of the hog, that little crumb goes down easily enough.”
“That attempt severely alarmed the Baroness. She was not certain who had been the author. I think she believed it was
Atlas Command, or at the very least that we had something to do with it. Almost immediately after that you were able to confirm our interest in her, and our knowledge that Caliph existed. I invited you to America, Colin brought you to meet me, and when you returned you either told her about it, or in some way confirmed her suspicions of
Atlas Command and Kingston Parker. I am guessing again but how close am I, Peter? Be honest.” Peter stared at him, trying to keep his face expressionless while his mind raced. That was exactly how it had happened.
“We were all hunting Caliph. You saw no disloyalty in discussing it with her.” Parker prompted him gently, and Peter nodded once curtly.
“You believed that we had common goals,” Parker went on with deep understanding and compassion. “You thought we were all hunting Caliph.
That is right.”
“She knew I had been to America to see you before I
told her. I don’t know how but she knew,” Peter said stiffly. He felt like a traitor.
“understand” Parker said simply. He reached across the table and once again placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder.
He squeezed it while he looked into Peter’s eyes, a gesture of affirmation and trust. Then he laid both hands on top of the table.
“She knew who was the hunter then, and she knew enough about me to know I was dangerous. You were probably the only man in the world who could reach me and do the job but you had to be motivated. She picked the one and only lever that would move you. She picked it unerringly just as she had done everything else. It would have worked in one stroke she would have gotten rid of the hunter, and she would have acquired a top-class assassin.
When you had done the job, you would have belonged to Caliph for all time. She would have used you to kill again and again, and each time you killed you would be more deeply enmeshed in her net. You really were a very valuable prize, Peter. Valuable enough for her to find it worthwhile to use her sexual wiles upon you.” He saw the lumps of clenched muscle at the corner of Peter’s jaw, and the fire in his eyes.
“You are also a very attractive man, and who knows but she felt the need to combine business and pleasure? She is a lady with strongly developed sexual appetites.” Peter felt a violent urge to punch him in the face. He needed some outlet for his rage. He felt belittled,
soiled and used.
“She was clever enough to realize that the sex was not enough of a hold to force you to commit murder. So she took your daughter, and immediately had her mutilated just as at Johannesburg she had executed hostages without hesitation. The world must learn to fear Caliph.”
There was no smile on Parker’s face now.
“I truly believe that if you had not been able to deliver my head by the deadline, she Would not have hesitated to carry on to the next mutilation, and the one after that.” Again Peter was assailed by a wave of nausea as he remembered that shrivelled white lump of flesh with the scarlet fingernail floating horribly in its tiny bottle.
“We were saved from that by the most incredible piece of luck.
The Provo informer,” said Parker. “And again the understandable eagerness of the Russians to cooperate with us. It is a wonderful opportunity for them to hand us their problem. They have let us have an almost full account of the lady and her history.”
“But what are we going to do about it?” Colin Nobleasked. “Our hands are tied. Do we just have to wait for the next atrocity do we have to hope we will get another lucky break when Caliph kills the next Arab prince, or machine-guns the Shah’s sister?”
“That will happen unless they push through the OPEC decision,” Parker predicted levelly. “The lady has converted very easily to the capitalist system now that she owns half of Europe’s industry. A reduction in the Oil price would benefit her probably more than any other individual on earth and at the same time it will also benefit the great bulk of humanity. How nicely that squares all her political and personal interests.”
“But if she gets away with it-” Colin insisted, what will be her next act of God?”
“Nobody can predict that,” Parker murmered, and they both turned their heads to look at Peter Stride.
He seemed to have aged twenty years. The lines at the corners of his mouth were cut in deeply like the erosion of weathered granite.
Only his eyes were blue and alive and fierce as those of a bird of prey.
“I want you to believe what I am going to say now, Peter.
I have not told you all this to put pressure on you, Parker assured him quietly. “I have told you only what I believe is necessary for you to know to protect yourself if you should elect to return to the lion’s den. I am not ordering you to do so. The risks involved cannot be overestimated. With a lesser man I would term it suicidal.
However, now that you are forewarned, I believe you are the one man who could take Caliph on her own ground. Please do not misunderstand what I mean by that. I am not for a moment suggesting assassination.
In fact I expressly forbid you to even think in that direction. I
would not allow it, and if you acted independently, I would do my utmost to see that you were brought to justice. No, all I ask is that you keep close to Caliph and try to outguess her. Try to expose her so we can lawfully act to take her out of action. I want you to put out of your mind the emotional issues those hostages at Johannesburg,
your own daughter try to forget them, Peter. Remember we are neither judge nor executioner-” Parker went on speaking quietly and insistently, and Peter watched his lips with narrowed eyes, hardly listening to the words, trying to think clearly and see his course ahead but his thoughts were a children’s carousel, going around and around with fuss and fury but returning with every revolution to the one central conclusion.
There was only one way to stop Caliph. The thought of attempting to bring someone like Baroness Magda Altmann to justice in a French court was laughable. Peter tried to force himself to believe that vengeance had no part in his decisions, but he had lived too long with himself to be able to pull off such a deceit. Yes, vengeance was part of it and he trembled with the rage of remembrance, but it was not all of it. He had executed the German girl Ingrid, and Gilly
O’Shaughnessy and had not regretted the decision to do so. If it was necessary for them to die then surely Caliph deserved to die a thousand times more.
And there is only one person who can do it, he realized.
Her voice was quick and light and warm, with just that fascinating trace of accent; he remembered it so well, but had forgotten the effect it could have upon him. His heart pounded as though he had run a long way.
“Oh, Peter. It’s so good to hear your voice. I have been so worried. Did you get my cable?”
“No, which cable?”
“When I heard that you had freed Melissa-Jane. I sent you a cable from Rome.”
“I didn’t get it but it doesn’t matter.”
“I sent it to you via Narmco in
Brussels.”
“It’s probably waiting for me there. I haven’t been in touch.”
