Packer looked wearily into Ryderbeit’s unblinking yellow eye. ‘Why would Pol want me to do that, Sammy?’
‘Because Fat Man is as crooked as a mountain road and as shifty as a shit-house rat, with morals lower than the basic wage. He’s already swindled me out of millions, and although he hasn’t got me on his conscience — because the bastard doesn’t have a conscience — he sure has me on his mind. He’s so far only paid me £25,000, remember — and to get me off his back, that would be cheap at the price.’
‘Well, if it’s any comfort to you, I’m not going to shoot you. For a start, I hardly think you’re worth £500,000. And anyway, we’ve been seen around too much together. But that’s not all. You’re not the only one who’s got things on your mind, Sammy.’
Ryderbeit’s eye narrowed. ‘Meaning what?’
Packer took a deep breath. ‘I’m just thinking of something else old Pol said when he first briefed me in that hotel in France. Before he had even mentioned the Ruler, he talked of the great advantages of what he called “diversionary tactics”. Then he mentioned you — painting you as a typical mercenary killer — adding, for good measure, that you were an excellent pilot.’
Ryderbeit inclined his head. ‘Thanks. What else did the bastard say?’
‘I can’t remember his exact words. But he did also mention that the vital element in an assassination of this scale is that the victim should be confused.’
‘You’ve sure got me confused, soldier. Just what the hell are you driving at?’
‘Pol took the trouble to track me down to Amsterdam, Sammy, because I have a fairly tough military record, plus a few black marks, which he claims will rule me out from most police suspect lists. He also threw in a sop about my talents for improvisation — apparently on the evidence that for the last few years I’ve earned my daily bread building model windmills for American millionaires.’
Ryderbeit was shaking his head. ‘Either you’re cracked, soldier, or Fat Man is. What have bloody windmills got to do with all this?’
‘Probably nothing. I think that Pol may intend using you and me as the fall-guys — what he calls his “diversionary tactics” — to make the Ruler think he’s being threatened by the most conventional method possible. And what could be more conventional than trying to knock him off on these ski slopes?’
‘It’s not going to be that easy,’ Ryderbeit growled.
‘No, but it’s not going to be so difficult that it’s worth a total of £600,000 between us to Charles Pol — or anyone else, for that matter. And I’m getting £500,000, remember? And for what? For ideas — those were Pol’s words, weren’t they? What ideas? Studying a map and marking a few ski runs and taking a couple of shots with a high-velocity rifle? He’d have half the army veterans in the world queueing up for a job like that — and for a hundredth of the price.’
Ryderbeit’s good eye had rolled up towards the high sun-streaked peak of the Gotschnagrat. ‘Stop playing around, soldier,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve been paid for ideas, so let’s hear them.’
‘I’ll lay it on the line, Sammy. Pol said something else in that hotel room in France. He said that while the Ruler will be expecting obvious, professional killers, his back will be turned to the real danger.’
‘Go on.’
‘He was referring to Sarah. What he called “another, subtler element”.’
Ryderbeit’s face was quite calm. ‘And you think that’s why he chose you?’ he said at last.
‘It seems more than probable.’
Ryderbeit stroked his chin. ‘As I said, I don’t know the girl — but she must have something bloody special to pull you in half a million quid. What is it?’
‘I don’t know. And Pol isn’t the sort of person who’d tell me, unless he wants to.’
There was a long silence. Ryderbeit did not even touch his Scotch. He said, finally, ‘All right, soldier, so it looks as though we may be in the hot seat. But we’re being paid bloody well for it, so we can’t argue. I’ll accept that Fat Man may be setting us up on this mountain for a dummy run — or a diversion, as he calls it. He may even think we can knock the Ruler off first time round. If not, maybe he will use your little Sarah. Well, that’s going to be her problem. As for us, we’ve been paid to do a job, so I guess we’d better do it.’ He paused. ‘Now there’s one last item on the agenda. What about the signals? I suppose we’ll have to risk an open radio link?’
‘Well, even if the police are monitoring all UHF transmissions within a good five-mile radius of the Gotschnagrat, the mountains play strange tricks with wavelengths, and they can’t be sure all the time what they’re picking up. For our purposes we need just one phrase — one word, even. And to anyone listening in, that could mean anything.’
Ryderbeit sat nodding his head with a peculiarly regular movement, like a chicken, his dead eye lurching up and down and his good one still fixing Packer with its yellow stare. ‘That little word, soldier, has got to be spoken at the Gotschnagrat restaurant, the moment the Ruler sets off down to the bottom of the T-bar. And who’s going to speak the word? Pol?’
Packer laughed. ‘I rather get the impression that Pol prefers to be somewhere else when the action’s taking place.’
Ryderbeit laughed too. ‘Yeah, the cunning sod. So who speaks?’
‘Sarah.’
‘You bastard! You mean you’re going to put her up in the eagle’s nest, surrounded by the whole gang of goons, while we’re all snug on our mountain perches nearly a mile away?’
‘Can you think of anyone better? In fact,
