Agent in Place (43 page)

“Face this way!” Tony got out in time. “Watch me!” Bernard remembered. He averted his head from the two men on his left, ignored their newspaper with its pages being turned, spread wide for consultation, and went on talking to Tony.

The
Monique
lay behind them. Tony checked a surge of relief, kept the same steady pace. Brilliant, he thought of the newspaper: Saul and Walt really knew all the tricks of the trade. They had managed to break the
Monique
’s view of Bernard and Tony, just at the crucial moment of passing; and they had made sure, too, that their own faces wouldn’t be clearly photographed. Two bent heads, gesticulating arms, a flutter of turning pages: that was all Gorsky would make of them. Yes, brilliant. And essential. For the mainsail on the fishing-boat was no longer of any help: it had been lowered and furled.

Tony looked at Bernard. His shoulders were squared, he held himself tall, and now that the annoyance of two young men trying to crush past him was over, he was even enjoying himself. “Careful,” Tony warned. “Just another ten paces to go.”

They reached the
Sea Breeze
, entered its tidied cabin. Emil was now at the ship’s radio, talking with the harbour-master. He broke off to say, “Got this five minutes ago,” as he handed over a coded message. It was from the
Aurora
. It read, “Cargo fully loaded. Sailed on schedule.”

Trust Vincent: everything done navy style. Bill and Parracini might arrive six minutes ahead of time, but the
Aurora
sailed exactly as arranged, at ten thiry.

Tony crossed over to one of the starboard windows, gently eased its heavy curtain apart. Beyond the fishing-boat the
Monique
rested quietly. No sign of leaving. He kept watch, waiting for any sudden activity. Nothing. He stayed there, watching and waiting. At last he let the quarter-inch gap of curtain close. He was smiling broadly. “They couldn’t follow the
Aurora
now. She’s well away.”

“We did it!” Emil said, and slapped Bernard on the back.

“Easy, easy, take it easy,” Tony said, restraining his laughter and theirs. “Don’t forget that an important conference, with four very serious people, is beginning in this cabin. And you are one of them,” he told Bernard. “Don’t look out the windows. Don’t open the door. Keep the curtains closed.” He was removing the blond wig, reversing the jacket back to work-worn denim. The cap he would need; glasses and moustache expendable. “Get rid of the fancy dress,” he urged Bernard. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Bernard peeled off his dark moustache and wig. “Where are we going?”

“For a pleasure cruise.”

“I just sit here? Stay inside? What about you?”

“We’re the crew,” Emil said impatiently. “And we’ll be busy on deck until we clear the harbour. We cast off at eleven. Prompt.” He turned to Tony: “I checked with the harbour-master about that. No delay, he said: there’s another boat pulling out at eleven ten.” Emil’s grin was wide. “Guess who?”

So Gorsky was giving them a ten-minute start. Mighty generous of him, considering the
Monique
could raise almost thirty-five miles an hour, while the
Sea Breeze
, under power, could manage eleven and a half. Their thirty knots, thought Tony, against our ten: he will be right on our tail from the word go.

“Also,” Emil was saying, “I told the harbour-master we probably wouldn’t head in here tonight. Possibly returning tomorrow.”

“You did, did you?” Tony sounded nettled.

Bernard interrupted them both. “I’ve got to get back by this afternoon. Brigitte doesn’t know where I am. She’s expecting me—”

“She’ll wait,” said Emil brusquely. And to Tony, “I thought it was a good idea. The
Monique
is bound to be listening for any communication between us and the shore.” He paused, guessed the reason for Tony’s silence. “Of course I didn’t mention Nice. Did you think that I was fool enough to steer them in
that
direction?”

Tony relaxed. We’re all getting too sharp-set, he thought. “Then it was a very good idea.” It would certainly jolt Gorsky: what overnight trip for the
Sea Breeze
, and where? Not according to plan. And why wasn’t Parracini’s watch functioning? Why was nothing being received right now from the
Sea Breeze
cabin? Yes, Tony answered him, the watch is functioning, but it has been too far away for any monitoring. Far, far away, Gorsky, and getting farther by the minute. “One thing is certain,” Tony predicted, “Gorsky won’t let us out of his sight.”

“And then?” asked Emil, very quietly.

“It depends on Gorsky, doesn’t it?”

“He could try to board us—there are five of them, don’t forget. Or he could ram us.”

“Oh, come on, Emil. Cool it. Worrying is my business, not yours.”

Bernard stared at them. “There’s still danger?”

“It’s only beginning,” said Emil.

“Oh,” said Bernard. His face brightened. He forgot about Brigitte and cream-cakes for tea. “Well, I’m not going to stay in here doing nothing. How can I help?”

“By staying in here,” Tony told him. “Don’t look out, don’t be seen. That’s the most important thing right now.”

“And later?”

“Later, we’ll call on you. If necessary.” Tony checked his watch for the third time, and stepped on to the deck. He passed quickly to the port side of the boat, where the cabin would shield him from the
Monique
’s view. There he could wait for the next two minutes and time to cast off. He would be seen then, of course, no way to avoid it. But with his collar hunched up, and his knitted cap down over his brow, his head bent, his face averted, he might just postpone identification until the right moment. And that wasn’t here, at this dock, at three seconds to eleven.

“Okay,” he sang out for Emil’s benefit, and moved towards the lines. “Let go.”

Blue sky and white clouds, steady breeze and rippling waves, it was the Saturday sailors’ delight. Small craft dotted Garavan Bay, everything from rowing-boats with outboard engines to light yachts under sail. The
Sea Breeze
headed east as though she were bound for Italy. She was taking it easy, travelling only at half-speed so that she’d be less than a mile from the harbour when the
Monique
emerged.

“There she is,” said Emil, “and they’ve seen us.”

“Good,” said Tony.

The
Monique
skirted the offshore craft, only began to put on speed as the
Sea Breeze
passed the high promontory of cliffs that formed the end of the bay, and was lost to her sight. Temporarily. The
Monique
, under full power, reached the cliffs, came sweeping round them to enter Italian waters. She found herself almost faced with the
Sea Breeze
, which had turned and was now heading back under full power towards Garavan Bay.

Once there,
Sea Breeze
reduced speed and sailed on, past the harbour, past Menton’s west bay, rounded Cap Martin and again dropped out of sight.

Again, the
Monique
gave chase, soon reached Cap Martin, only to find herself faced with the
Sea Breeze
as she turned east once more.

And that was the way it went for the next twenty minutes. The
Monique
, baffled and angry, retreated to a less ridiculous position, where—a couple of miles out to sea—she could heave to and watch the
Sea Breeze
from a distance.

“She should have done that in the first place,” Emil said. “Whoever is giving the orders isn’t much of a sailor. He’s more accustomed to tailing his quarry through city streets.”

Bernard, dressed in a heavy ill-fitting sweater borrowed from Emil’s locker, clung on tightly to the rail and said, “If he isn’t much of a sailor, then he’s feeling like me.” He was cheerful, but pale of face. He averted his eyes from the waves that seemed to him to be growing bigger. It was colder, too.

“Go below,” Emil advised. The clouds were moving, the breeze had strengthened into a wind from the south-east. Not too much force as yet, but it was blowing up.

Bernard shook his head, clung on. Bright sun and blue sky should surely mean that there was nothing to worry about. “I like it here.” They were far out in Garavan Bay now. He could see the whole of Menton.

Emil’s bout of sharp temper, back in the harbour, had left him. It was the waiting that had irritated him, that and the unnecessary ballast they had been forced to carry in the shape of Bernard. Now, he clapped Bernard’s shoulder before he moved inside to the radio. The message from the
Aurora
was due any minute.

Tony was at the wheel, and enjoying himself immensely. He had zigzagged across both the bays, sometimes heading out to sea as though he were actually making for the
Monique.
Then, before he got too close to her, he had steered a wide curve back towards land. In a light breeze, this had been simple enough to manoeuvre, but with the wind strengthening—well, thought Tony, it won’t be too pleasant for them sitting out there: they’ll have to use more power, keep themselves steady, not let the
Monique
get out of control.

Emil called to him, “Still thumbing your nose at Gorsky? He’s got the message by this time.”

“But we’ve lost our advantage,” Tony reminded him. Back in the harbour, and even for the first five minutes of this erratic voyage, the
Monique
had been unaware that the
Sea Breeze
knew all about her. The
Monique
had been the watcher, the calculator, the chaser. She hadn’t realised that she had been watched, calculated against, and then led into a senseless chase. But now Gorsky knew. The
Sea Breeze
was going no place.

“Well, we’ve given him a couple of real problems. Is there anyone important on board of us? Has he been duped all the way?”

“And,” Tony added, “how much has his own security been endangered? That is what really hurts.”

“Just a moment!” Emil pressed his left hand against his ear-phone, noting down the message as he listened. “Received. Over and out,” he said at its end. He brought the slip of paper to Tony. “How’s that?” he asked with a wide and happy smile.

The
Aurora
’s message was succinct.
Cargo unloaded. Easy transfer made. Already airborne. Instructing escort return full speed Menton. ETA noon. Will cover your position
.

“An escort?” Emil said. “We could use it.”

“If it arrives in time. I think we’ll make our move right away. In another twenty minutes that sea is going to be rough. And what d’you make of that, Emil?” Tony pointed to a motor-launch, travelling at full speed, sending spray flying high as it cut and bumped over the waves. “It left the harbour eight minutes ago, has been circling widely around us.”

Emil picked up his binoculars. “Looks official to me. Harbour police? They don’t like the way you handle a boat.”

“I doubt if harbour police would be as wild and erratic as that.”

“They’re crazy,” Emil agreed. “But it must be fun too. I’ll go on deck, have a clearer look.”

“No. Take the helm. Head her straight out.” Tony was pulling all the curtains apart, leaving a glass-enclosed cabin. Conference over, he thought with a smile.

“Towards the
Monique
?”

“That’s right. Get within hailing distance.”

“Too close.”

“All right. Within clear sighting distance. That’s all Gorsky will need. His binoculars are as good as ours.”

“That’s still within pistol range.”

“In this rising sea? They couldn’t hit an elephant.”

“They’ll have rifles,” Emil warned. But Tony was already stepping out on deck, binoculars ready for a quick look at the motor-launch.

Bernard had retreated to the mast, one arm locked around it. His hair blew wildly around his eyes. But there was still a smile, small but determined, to greet Tony. “No, I’m not going inside,” Bernard said. “I prefer to be sick out here.”

“So do I,” Tony told him. “A useful tip. Stay relaxed. Keep your knees slightly bent. Sway as the boat sways.”

“What’s that ship? I think it has been following us.”

“That brown boat? A motor-launch. And I think you’re right.”

“It’s like a sheep-dog, moving round and round.”

And we are the sheep to be herded? Tony raised his glasses. The launch didn’t show any official pennant. Two figures, keeping well down. But not clearly visible, with the spray flying over their heads. Was this some reinforcement that Gorsky had ordered up? Or— “I think you’re right again,” Tony said. “That’s our sheep-dog.” But who? Those two crazy maniacs? He kept staring at the launch. Its circling became tighter as it drew protectively nearer. Protective, thought Tony, that’s the exact word. They are giving us support. He waved both arms.

Emil was bringing the
Sea Breeze
around. And there, across a short stretch of rough water, was the
Monique
. Clear sighting distance, thought Tony: our empty cabin will be easily seen—Gorsky has his glasses trained on it. He pulled off his cap, said to Bernard, “You take it, keep your ears warm. And stay behind the mast.” Then he stepped forward to the rail.

He faced into the wind, his hair blown straight back, revealing his face clearly as he confronted the
Monique
. He could almost feel Gorsky’s binoculars boring into him. So there goes my cover, he thought: identity established. But there’ll be no rough stuff, no rifle bullet between my eyes. Tempting, though, at this moment, when I’m an easy target. Would Gorsky risk it, with that motor-launch watching? I doubt it. Gorsky likes things neat and natural, all evidence concealed.

Suddenly, the
Monique
moved ahead. Rough stuff after all, thought Tony: she’s going to ram our bow, witness or no witness. “Hold on!” he yelled at Bernard.

But within seconds the
Monique
had passed clear, leaving the
Sea Breeze
rearing and bucking in the cross-waves from her wake. Tony picked himself up from the deck, held on to a safety line. He was soaked through. So was Bernard, but he was still in place, both arms tight around the mast.

* * *

In the motor-launch Saul said to Walt, “Did you see that?” He stared after the
Monique
. “A real bastard, could have clipped them.”