But the aspect that puzzled me most was the Paulet and Robert Duchêne angle. Just where did they feature in this, and what did they think they were going to get out of me? Or had thought they were going to get? I didn’t know and I worried about it right through until it was time to have a drink before dinner.
I’d got through my first whisky and soda when the reception clerk brought me my reply from Gloriana. The cable read:
Embassy arranging all details my brother. Your services no longer required. Appreciate efforts by you to date. G.S.
Well, it was nice to be appreciated.
Halfway through my second drink Wilkins arrived. I bought her a Dubonnet and she handed me Jane Judd’s reply which was:
M.F. abdominal scar right-hand side. Why? Judd.
Well, it might be some time before I could answer her ‘Why?’ All I knew at the moment was that it was a typical piece of Freeman carelessness to think he could get away with a slap-dash substitute for himself.
‘What about Dawson?’ I asked Wilkins.
‘You were right. Olaf and I are leaving for Cairo tomorrow in the late afternoon. I suggest you get a plane back to London.’
‘What did Olaf find out about the yacht, La Sunata?’
‘It was in harbour here two weeks ago and then went up the coast as far as Bizerta. A week ago it went across to Naples and is now on charter doing a trip along the French coast.’
‘It went just as far as Bizerta, did it? Interesting.’
‘Are you going to London?’
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘I wish you would.’
‘Don’t worry. I can look after myself.’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Examine the records—they prove it.’
‘You’ve been lucky, that’s all. What do you think has happened to Bill Dawson?’
I gave her a smile over my whisky and shook my head. ‘You’re not asking me that? Not my Wilkins? You know what’s happened to him, don’t you?’
‘He’s been kidnapped.’
‘Yes. By an incompetent couple who’ll never get away with it the moment people like Manston—’
‘Manston? Don’t tell me—’
‘I do tell you. What did you expect? This is his line of country. State security. No headlines. Just quiet blue murder the moment he and his crowd get their hands on Freeman or Pelegrina.’
‘Or you—if you interfere. You fool.’
‘I’m not interfering. I just want the missing piece of the jigsaw and then I can sell it to Manston. He’ll be grateful and pay.’
She just looked at me and shook her head.
*
I was late getting down to the Uaddan that evening for the simple reason that I didn’t want to take Letta out to dinner with a great rip in the front of my shirt. I had to come back to my hotel to change it.
The thing happened neatly, smoothly and was almost successful. One thing for sure was that I was taken completely off my guard.
It was a fine night, ablaze with stars. The lights of the shipping in the harbour and the great curve of esplanade lights lining the long waterfront reflected in the black sea, all made up a picture which pleased me and put me in a good mood. I like the sea and I like bright lights. The air was warm and I walked along happily, thinking about Letta and now and again getting a whiff of my own after-shave lotion and feeling that life was full of promise. The wide roadway was bathed now and then with the headlights of passing cars. A couple of Arab women passed me on the pavement. One was carrying a hand transistor set and the voices of the Beatles bounced into the night with a happy, hearty vitality. The world was good and I was in it. Four seconds later I was nearly out of it.
He came up the pavement towards me and I paid no attention. To me he was just a man in a suit, padding along enjoying the night air like myself. When he was level with me, he turned suddenly in to me and his right arm went up. I just caught the flicker of reflected light on steel and then his hand was coming down at me fast. Miggs would have given me nought out of ten for my reaction. But then a happy man is the easiest and most unsuspecting target in the world for a fast knife man. He obviously expected some fast reaction from me—somebody somewhere had given me a good build-up, briefing him about what to expect. Maybe that saved me, for he swung, expecting me to step back fast and making allowance for it. His hand came down, allowance made for my three—or four-inch swing back, and when I didn’t move he made a rapid adjustment of angle and the knife caught the edge of my collar and ripped downwards, slashing through the loose hang of my shirt front. By some miracle the blade didn’t even touch my skin. But he didn’t waste time moaning over his first botched effort. The hand swung again and this time I did move. I threw myself sideways, slipped, and went to the ground in the shadow of one of the esplanade trees. He came for me and side-stepped the swing of my right foot as I tried to take him off his feet. For a moment I saw his brown face, serious, intent on his work, not at all perturbed by the fact that there were a dozen people within two hundred yards’ call, a workman’s face, dedicated, content no doubt with the knowledge that for this sudden call to night work, he was getting double rates, and a bonus for success.
He would have got it too, except for my apprentice tail whom I had not even bothered to look for when I left the hotel. A.T. appeared out of
