Authors: Ken Follett
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Thrillers, #General, #Espionage, #Unknown
TRIPLE
But even if Hassan did not find him, Nat was in danger from the Russians.
And if he was forewarned, he could escape both dangers.
Perhaps, too, she could get rid of Hassan somehow, before she actually
reached Nat
What was the alternative? To wait, to go on as if nothing had happened,
to hope for a phone call that might never come ... It was, she realized,
partly her need to see Dickstein again that made her think like this,
partly the thought that after the hijack he might be dead, that this
might be her last chance But there were good reasons, too: by doing noth-
Ing she might help frustrate Hassan's scheme, but that 80 left the
Russians and their scheme.
Her decision was made. She would pretend to work with Hassan so that she
could find Nathaniel.
She was peculiarly happy. She was trapped, but she felt free; she was
obeying her father, yet she felt that at last she was defying him; for
better or worse, she was committed to Nathaniel.
She was also very, very frightened.
She got out of the bath, dried herself, dressed, and went downstairs to
tell them the good news.
At four A.M. on November 16, 1968, the Caparelli hove to at Vlissingen,
on the Dutch coast, and took an board a port pilot to guide her through
the channel of the Westerscbelde to Antwerp. Four hours later, at the
entrance to the harbor, she took on another pilot to negotiate her
passage through the docks. From the main harbor she went through Royers
Lock, along the Suez Canal, under the Siberia Bridge and into Kattendijk
Dock, where she tied up at her berth.
Nat Dickstein was watching.
When he saw her sweep slowly in, and read the name Co. Parelli On her
side, and thought of the drums of yelloweake that would soon fill her
belly, he was overcome by a most Peculiar feeling, like the one he had
when he looked at Suza's naked body... yes, almost like lust
He looked away from berth No. 42 to the railway line, which ran almost
to the edge of the quay. There was a train on the'line now, consisting
of eleven cars and an engine. Ten of the cars carried fifty-one 200-liter
drams with sealed lids and the word PLumBAT stenciled on the side; the
eleventh car
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had only fifty drums. He was so close to those drums, to that uranium; he
could Woll over and- touch the railway cars-he already had done this once,
earlier in the morning, and had thought: Wouldn't it be terrific just to
raid this place with choppers and a bunch of Israeli commandos and simply
steal the stuff.
The Coparellf was scheduled for a fast turnaround. The port authorities had
been convinced that the yelloweake could be handled safely, but all the
same they did not want the stuff hanging about their harbor one minute
longer than necessary. Ilere was a crane standing by ready to load the
drums on to the ship.
Nevertheless, there were formalities to be completed before loading could
begin.
'17he fint person Dickstein saw boarding the ship was an official from the
shipping company. He had to give the pilots their pourboire and secure from
the captain a crew list for the harbor police.
The second person aboard was Josef Cohen. He was here for the sake of
customer relations: he would give the captain a bottle of whiskey and sit
down for a drink with him and the shipping company official. He also had a
wad of tickets for free entry and one drink at the best nightclub in town,
which be would give to the captain for the officers. And he would discover
the name of the ship's engineer. Dickstein had suggested he do this by
asking to see the crew list, then counting out one ticket for each officer
on the list.
Whatever way he had decided to do it, he had been successful: ashe left the
ship and crossed the quay to return to his office he passed Dickstein and
muttered, "Me engineer's name is Same," without breaking stride.
It was not until afternoon that the crane went into action and the dockers
began loading the drums into the three holds of the Copareffl. IMe drums
had to be moved one at a time, and inside the ship each drum had to be
secured with wedges of wood. As expected, the loading was not completed
that day.
In the evening Dickstein went to the best nightclub in town. Sitting at the
bar, close to the telephone, was a quite astonishing woman of about thirty,
with black hair and a long, aristocratic face possessed of a faintly
haughty expression. She wore an elegant black dress which made the
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most of her sensational legs and her high, round breasts. Dickstein gave
her an almost imperceptible nod but did not speak to her.
He sat in a comer, nursing a glass of beer, hoping the sailors would
come. Surely they would. Did sailors ever refuse a free drink?
Yes.
The club began to fill up. The woman in the black dress was propositioned
a couple of times but refused both men, thereby establishing that she was
not a hooker. At nine o'clock Dickstein went out to the lobby and phoned
Cohen. By previous arrangement, Cohen had called the captain of the
Coparelli on a pretext. He now told Dickstein what he had discovered:
that all but two of the officers were using their free tickets. Ile
exceptions were the captain himself, who was busy with paperwork, and the
radio operator-a new man they had taken on in Cardiff after Lars broke
his leg-who had a head cold.
Dickstein then dialed the number of the club he was in. He asked to speak
to Mr. Same, who, he understood, would be found in the bar. While he
waited he could hear a barman calling out Same's name: it came to him two
ways, one directly from the bar, the other through several miles of tele-
phone cable. Eventually be heard, over the phone, a voice say, "Yes?
Hello? This is Same. Is anybody there? Hello?"
Dickstein bung up and walked quickly back into the bar. He looked over
to where the bar phone wa& The woman in the black dress was speaking to
a tall, suntanned blond man in his thirties whom Dickstein had seen on
the quay earlier that day. So this was Same.
The woman smiled at Same. It was a nice smile, a smile to make any man
look twice: it was warm and red-lipped, showing even, white teeth, and
it was accompanied by a certain languid half-closing of the eyes, which
was very sexy and looked not at all. as though it bad been rehearsed a
thousand times in front of a mirror.
Dickstein watched, spellbound. He had very little idea how this sort of
thing worked, bow men picked up women and women picked up men, and be
understood even less how a woman could pick up a man while letting the
man believe he was doing the picking up.
Same had his own charm, it seemed. He gave her his
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smile, a grin with something wickedly boyish in it that made him look ten
years younger. He said something to her, and she smiled again. He
hesitated, like a man who wants to talk some more but cannot think of
anything to say; then, to Dickstein's horror, he turned away to go.
Ile woman was equal to this: Dickstein need not have worried. She touched
the sleeve of Same's blazer, and he turned back to her. A cigarette had
suddenly appeared in her hand. Same slapped his pockets for matches.
Apparently he did not smoke. Dickstein groaned inwardly. The woman took
a lighter from the evening bag on the bar in front of her and handed it
to him. He lit her cigarette.
Dick9ein could not go away, or watch from a distance; he would have a
nervous breakdown. He had to listen. He pushed his way through the bar
and stood behind Same, who was facing the woman. Dickstein ordered
another beer.
The woman's voice was warm and inviting, Dickstein knew already, but now
she was really using it. Some women had bedroom eyes, she had a bedroom
voice.
Same was saying, '9rhis kind of thing is always happening to me."
"Me phone call?" the woman said.
Sarno nodded. "Woman trouble. I hate women. All my fife, women have
caused me pain and suffering. I wish I were a homosexual."
Dickstein was astonished. What was he saying? Did he mean it? Was he
trying to give her the brush-off?
She said, "Why don't you become one?"
'I don't fancy men."
"Be a monk."
"Well, you see, I have this other problem, this insatiable sexual
appetite. I have to get laid, all the time, often several times a night.
Ifs a great problem to me. Would you like a fresh drinkr'
Ah. It was a line of chat. How did he think it up? Dickstein supposed
that sailors did this sort of thing all the time, they had it down to a
fine art.
It went on that way. Dickstein had to admire the way the woman led Same
by the nose while letting him think be was making the running. She told
him she was stopping over in Antwerp just for the night, and let him know
she had a room in a good hotel. Before long be said they should have
cham-
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pagne, but the champagne sold in the club was very poor stuff, not like
they might be able to get somewhere else; at a hotel, say; her hotel, for
example.
They left when the floor show started. Dickstein was pleased: go far, so
good. He watched a line of girls kicking their legs for ten minutes, then
he went out.
He took a cab to the hotel and went up to the room. He stood close to the
communicating door which led through to the next room. He heard the woman
giggle and Same say something in a low voice.
Dickstein sat on the bed and checked the cylinder of gas. He turned tke
tap on and off quickly, and got a sharp whiff of sweetness from the face
mask. It had no effect on him. He wondered how much you had to breathe
before it worked. He had not had time to try out the stuff properly.
1"he noises from the next room became louder, and Dickstein began to feel
embarrassed. He wondered how conscientious Sarne was. Would he want to
go back to his ship as soon as he had finished with the woman?.That would
be awkward. It would mean a fight in the hotel corridor-unprofessional,
risky.
Dickstein waited-tense, embarrassed, anxious. The woman was good at her
trade. She knew Dickstein wanted Sarne to sleep afterward, and she was
trying to tire him. It seemed to take forever.
It was past two A.M. W.hen she knocked on the communicating door. The
code was three slow knocks to say he was asleep, six fast knocks to say
he was leaving.
She knocked three times, slowly.
Dickstein opened the door. Carrying the gas cylinder in one hand and the
face mask in the other, he walked softly into the next room.
Same lay flat on his back, naked, his blond hair mussed, his mouth wide
open, his eyes closed. His body looked fit and strong. Dickstein went
close and listened to his breathing. He breathed in, then all the way
out-then, just as he began to inhale again, Dickstein turned on the tap
and clapped the mask over the sleeping man's nose and mouth.
Same's eyes opened wide. Dickstein held the mask on more firmly. Half a
breath: incomprehension in Sarne's eyes. The breath turned into a gasp,
and Same moved his head, failed to weaken Dickstein's grip, and began to
thrash about. Dick-
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