Debut for a Spy (14 page)

The corpse in the next room corroborated my guess, or so I hoped. There was very little blood behind his head. Probably the bullet had not exited – It was still in his skull. The home-made suppressor would also affect the muzzle velocity. It all seemed to fit. If I was right, I had a chance. If I was wrong, I was dead.

My heart had slowed to normal, and my breathing was almost negligible. I had picked a spot inside me to concentrate my focus. A pinpoint of white, intense light. My senses were heightened. I was as ready as I could be, given the circumstances.

But still I waited. Focus. Steady now. Concentrate.

There was a sudden crash from the street below. He backed to the window, glancing down sideways.

Now!

Yelling involuntarily, with the strength and speed of desperation, I grabbed the underside of the table, hoisted it in front of me, and ran at him, holding it like a shield. I heard the gun cough once, twice, and then I hit him full force with the table. There was a scream, and suddenly he was gone. The iron rails had caught him just above the knee, and he went out backward through the open window, crashing to the ground three stories below.

I stood there trembling, looking at the two bulges in the bottom of the table. The flattened tip of a slug was just visible in the centre of one bulge. My guess about the gun had been right. This was not the time to stand and pat myself on the back. I started for the window, but caught myself. There was shouting from the street, and I didn't want anyone to see a face peering out of the window from which a man had fallen. I reached inside his coat pocket, taking the Fodor's and the pin. I took my handkerchief out, wiping the table where I had touched it, then ran to the door, using the handkerchief again as I wrenched it open.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I stopped at the bottom. The outer door was open. A
gendarme
, running. I ducked under the staircase as he and two other men clomped up the stairs.

Stepping out slowly, I walked to the back of the gathering crowd as calmly as I could. I was not prepared for what I saw.

He had fallen on one of the iron posts, impaling himself through the back. Impacting right to the ground, the bloody rod protruded grotesquely from his abdomen.

I turned away, the bile rising in my throat. I forced myself to walk slowly. It wasn't too hard
– my head was spinning. For a moment I thought I would faint, then caught myself. I still had to get away. I couldn't draw attention to myself.

“
David! David!”

I looked around. Was I hallucinating? There – there was House!

“How did you get here?” I choked.

“
I saw you walking off with that character and didn't like the look of it. Followed in the Jag. It's at the end of the street. I saw him come through the window. Damned sloppy dive. Terrible entry. Only gave him a 3. Figured I'd come and find you, and there you were. Don't tell me, I know. Basil Hammond, isn't it? I warned you. Oh, well, let's get the hell out of here.”

We were walking to the corner, when a gendarme appeared in front of us. He held up his nightstick.

“
Restez
ici
,
s'il
vous
plais
.
Que
personne
ne
parte
.”

House went into gear.

“Nothing to do with us, old boy. We heard the commotion and went to have a look. I'm British and he's Canadian. Just here as tourists. I think they need you there. Quite a mess. Blighter took a flyer out of the window.”

The crowd was getting thicker, and the commotion was getting out of hand, for there had been a minor street accident just before his fall. One of the
gendarmes
at the scene blew his whistle, and ours was uncertain about what to do.

“
I must go zere, but I mus' ask you not to leave until I can return for your names.”

“
Certainment
,
monsieur
l'agent
.
Nous
restons
ici
,” lied House. The moment his back was turned, we were gone. The ladies saw us coming in a hurry, and got out.

“
David, what's wrong? What has happened?” said Marijke anxiously.

“
I can't explain right now. Please, we must leave in a hurry. House, you drive. I'll navigate. Ladies, please get in the back, and don't ask questions.”

As we moved off I grabbed the Paris street guide.

“Don't speed, House, whatever you do.”

We drove steadily out of Paris. I directed House as well as I could, for I was feeling progressively cold all over, and shivering despite the heat.

“Marijke, can you pass me the blanket? I don't feel well.”

She passed it to me, but said nothing, just gave me a strange look. I wrapped myself in it, but it wasn't helping much. I was also beginning to feel quite ill. I blacked out for a bit, coming to when I heard House say we were on route N2.

“When we get to
Le
Bourget
, N2 veers off right, but we should stay straight and pick up N17.”

I blacked out once more, for how long I didn't know. Again, I heard House's voice, this time calling me.

“David, sorry, old son, but how long do we stay on N17?”

I glanced at the map. I was having trouble seeing it.

“I think until we get to Lens. House, you'll have to stop the car. I'm gonna throw up.”

I barely made it to the trees. I was violently sick. I was so weak both House and Marijke came to help me to the car. I went into the back with Marijke, Nicki into the front with House.

As I fell asleep in Marijke's arms I remembered the looks on their faces.

Nicki's was perplexed. House's was knowing. Marijke's was contemplative. Mine must have been sick.

It was death number three.

But this time I was glad.

That scared the hell out of me.

CHAPTER TEN

Vimy
,
France
–
the
same
day

I was flying in a plane. The turbulence of the darkened night sky was buffeting us brutally through the air. The door in the main cabin was open. I was not strapped in. With a violent wrench the port wing dropped and I was flung through the door. Clutching frantically for my parachute I pulled the ring, but it came off in my hand and I was free-falling through the black woolen clouds.

Breaking through the cloud base all I could see in the dim light was forest. I hurtled downward and with rising terror I saw that the treetops were sharpened to needle points. They were waiting for me, reaching for
me. I cried out in horror…

I woke up.

“David… David,” said a soothing voice, “it's all right.”

I looked up. Marijke was holding me. I was in the back seat of my Jag. House was driving. For a few moments I couldn't remember what I was doing here, then it all flooded back.

I sat up in a panic.

“
Where are we?”

“
Still on the N17, and just past Vimy. The sign said the Canadian Cemetery was on our left. I was going to drop you off so we could leave you at rest with your fellow-countrymen, and then you had to go and ruin it by coming back from the dead. Extremely 'inconsoderate' of you. I was all set to do my Scottish mouth-music version of 'The Last Post.' Very touching it would have been. Now you've spoiled it all, you rotting twine.”

“
Very funny,” was all I could mumble.

“
Are you feeling any better, David?” asked Nicki.

“
Yes, some, thanks. Does anyone have some gum or a mint?”

“
Here, love,” said Nicki, handing me one of each.

“
Do you want to sleep more?” queried Marijke.

“
No, not now.” I thought for a moment. “I think we should find a place to stop so I can clean up and you can get something to eat. I feel as though I've been dragged through a sewer. Start looking, all of you, and the first likely place should do it. We also have to figure out where we'll cross into Belgium.”

“
Listen to me, everybody,” said House quietly. “I don't want to start a panic, and I don't want anyone to react at all. Got it? Don't turn around! There's a police car approaching from behind. He's moving quickly with flashing lights. What do I do, David?”

“
Nothing! Just drive, steady and normally. If he gets on our tail pay no attention. House, put those sunglasses on. Nicki, look like you're reading – grab the Paris guidebook. Marijke, you and I will pretend to be necking.”

“
Necking? I don't hear this before. What is necking?”

“
Kissing and things like that. I'll explain later. Just pretend, and keep your head between mine and the window.”

We went into our routines.

“He's on our tail,” muttered House, checking the mirror.

“
Steady, everyone,” I said, putting my arms around Marijke and burying my face in her hair.

We waited, keeping up the charade.

“Beside us,” said House through his teeth. “Looking us over.”

It was like waiting for the depth charges to explode. We didn't know what would happen next. It seemed like forever.

“He's gone,” breathed House.

“
Thank God,” said Nicki, shaken.

“
Keep up the act for a few minutes. We want to make sure he's clear, and that there isn't another car behind in radio contact. And we can't be sure there isn't an unmarked car around.”

We waited a few more minutes.

“That copper is away ahead now, David, and speeding.”

“
Okay. If he was looking for us, seeing the ladies probably convinced him that he had the wrong party. No one knew about them, and they can't stop every car on the road with British plates. I think we got lucky. Let's hope it stays that way.”

We were virtually in the outskirts of Lens, a small industrial city that had suffered badly in both world wars. It had a tired, gritty appearance about it, possibly because it was the centre of a large coal mining district.

“If you head for the station, House, we'll probably find a hotel quite near it.” Even my voice was weak.

We crossed tracks coming into town. House turned left at an intersection, and very soon the station appeared, and there, on
Place
de
la
Gare
, was
l’Hotel
France
.

“
Park and go in, House, and find out if they can feed you and if I can get a good wash.”

“
Your wish is my command, my Cap-itan,” said Bluebottle's voice. House used his humour to deal with pressures and problems. He parked, jumped out of the car, and went inside.

It was silent for a few minutes, then Marijke spoke softly.

“Is it possible you can tell us what happens in Paris, David? Perhaps it is none of our business, but we are all very concerned. It seems to affect you very much. Can we do anything to help?”

“
After I've cleaned up I'll tell you what I can. I'm sorry to have spoiled our night in Paris.”

“
It doesn't matter.”

“
Don't worry on my account, David,” said Nicki. “I'll work on House to bring me over for a weekend. He owes me, anyway.”

House came bounding down the steps.

“Good news, troops. They're more than delighted to have some guests for dinner, and since there is virtually no one in the hotel, they've given us a couple of rooms to use to freshen up. All we have to do is pay a small service charge. I would therefore suggest taking our toiletries in with us.”

In minutes we were entering what must have been a small, elegant hotel in its day, but it, too, was showing the weariness of age and hard times. We all wanted to wash first, so the ladies were shown to one room while House and I went to the other.

As soon as we were alone, House started in.

“
I don't have to know the details, David, but what the hell were you doing back there? Surely Hammond hasn't sucked you in as a courier. You've got far too much going for you to be involved in that sort of rubbish, and far too much to lose if you get caught. That should be quite apparent after today.

“
I've told the ladies nothing, pleading ignorance, but you're going to have to give them something that sounds plausible. Remember, one of them works for a major newspaper, and the other works for the Russians, for Christ's sake! I feel like Oliver Hardy – ‘another fine mess you've gotten us into.'”

“
It was a one-off favour, House. Hammond knew about the Paris trip from you, and asked if I would stand in for a guy who was sick. No problems, he said, just a simple little pick-up.”

I proceeded to tell House about the meeting and what had happened. Regardless of secrecy, he had already guessed much of it, and since we were all still in jeopardy I needed his counsel. We talked as we washed and tidied up. House was concerned.

“If that
gendarme
we ducked told his superiors about us, then you can be sure that Interpol has flashed at least a warning to airports, stations, and what-have-you, to be on the lookout for a Brit and a Canadian with our general descriptions. Perhaps it's only for questioning, but if the Soviet embassy in Paris gets involved, then we might be headed for the high-jump.”

“
That's why I told you to get on the N17. It's far less traveled. Now I'm going to suggest some tiny roads as we approach the Belgian border. Even if they've contacted some of the major border posts they really don't know which way we headed, and they certainly don't know how we're traveling. If we'd gone straight back to Calais we probably would have been picked up by now. We've got a far better chance through Belgium and a ferry in Ostend.”

House was thoughtful for a moment.

“Look, David, as far as I'm concerned, once we're back in the UK I'm forgetting all about this little contretemps. But the ladies out there are a different story. What will you say?”

“
I think I know how to handle it. Let's go and join them.”

We were shown to a table, and in a few minutes Marijke and Nicki were seated with us. The mood was quiet, and we ordered out of necessity, not festivity. The house wine was pleasant and not very strong, which was a good thing. I didn't want to sleep again, for we had to navigate our way to the border on tricky roads, and I knew it would take all my concentration.

We passed on dessert, but ordered coffee, and then I felt I had to explain as best I could.

“
Look, all of you, let me tell you what happened back there. I think I owe it to you, and though I don't know everything I'll tell you what I've pieced together. Before we left England I was asked by a friend who was ill to do a favour for him in Paris. All I had to do was meet a man and exchange a couple of things. That's what I was doing at the cafe near
Gare
de
l'Est
. But it seems that the underworld had become involved, and the man who met me was not the one who should have been there. He held a gun on me, and was taking me to be picked up by his boss. Fortunately for me, he had an accident, and I was able to get away.”

“
What were you exchanging, David?” asked Nicki, quietly.

“
I don't know,” I said truthfully, “and I don't want to know. I can't afford to get involved in anything like this. That's why we left in a hurry. I'm sorry to have dragged you all into it. Right now I just want to get us all back to England without being detained. We're looking for an easy way across the Belgian frontier – a crossing which is little used. Once we're out of France there's less chance of being stopped.”

“
I think it's all rather exciting,” whispered Nicki. “Nothing like this ever happens to me. Here we are on the lam from the law, plotting an illegal dash across a border. Do you always give your dates this much fun, David?” She laughed.

Marijke was thoughtful.

“I think this might be much trouble for me, too, if the police hold us. Remember, I am not in France properly. This could make much difficulties for me. So, for me, too, I hope we get away.” Then she smiled. “But for me, too, it is exciting. How do you say it? Let's run for it!”

We expressed our gratitude to the concierge, paid our bill, tanked up with
l'essence
down the street. I asked House to drive again so I could navigate from the passenger seat.

For nearly two hours we twisted and turned through side roads and country lanes, passing close to
Armentieres
, finally entering a little town called
Steenwerck
. There was hardly a light to be seen. In the town square a signpost indicated
la
poste
de
frontiere
,
le
Seau
, and Route D38. We drove on.

I started to get butterflies in my stomach. What if all this was for nought, and we ended up being stopped and arrested?

“House, in
Le
Seau
we're only a few hundred yards from the border. Let's park the car and have a quiet walk before we drive up to it. I don't want to get into a point of no return. We can decide what to do after we have a look.”

Le
Seau
was not much more than an intersection of two roads surrounded by four buildings. House parked before the intersection, and he and I got out to reconnoiter. We walked to the corner, then a jog right to start down the road to the border. The signpost said N331. About two hundred yards away we were able to see the lights of the crossing. We stopped to have a look.

“
What do you think, David?”

“
I'm not sure. From here it looks like a couple of outhouses about 50 feet apart with a wooden barrier beside each one. I can't see anyone about, can you?”

“
No, not a sausage. Let's move a little closer.”

We walked slowly and quietly, and had covered about 50 yards when the door of the guard post on the French side opened, and a man stepped out. We froze. My heart was thumping.

Without a backward glance the guard walked to the Belgian guard post, calling out as he did so.

“
Pierre
!
Pierre
!”

The other door opened, and out stepped his Belgian counterpart.

“
Oui
,
mon
ami
!
Qu'est
ce
que
c'est
?”

“
House, stay here,” I whispered. “I'm going closer to try to hear. If I'm seen, run to the car and get away.”