his car phone. However, instead of calling a number in Paris, he dialed the code for Germany-Bonn, Germany. In a matter of seconds the call was completed.
"Guten Tag," said the voice on the line.
"It is I, again from Paris," said the well-dressed man in the Peugeot.
"Was it necessary to kill the marine driver last night?"
"I had no choice, mein Herr. He recognized me from the Blitzkrieger headquarters in the Avignon Warehouse complex. If you recall, you wanted everything I could learn about their disappearance, and since I was the only one who knew where they operated, you yourself ordered me there."
"Yes, yes, I remember. But why kill the marine?"
"He drove the colonel and the other two, the army officer and the blond woman, out to the warehouse. He-saw me then, and again last night. He shouted at me to stop; what was I to do?"
"Very well, then I congratulate you, I imagine." 4,you imagine, mein Herr? Had they captured me, they would have filled me with drugs and learned why I was there! That I had killed Moreau's secretary and learned, where he was."
"Then I truly congratulate you," said the voice in Germany.
"We'll get Moreau; he's far too dangerous to us now. It's simply a matter of time until you succeed, am I right?"
"I'm confident of it, but that's not why I'm calling you:1
"Then what is it?"
"I've been following an unmarked [email protected] automobile; it was parked for hours in front of the American Embassy. Unusual, I think you'd agree."
"I do. So?"
"They have under surveillance the ambassador's wife, Frau Courtland. She just entered an expensive leather shop called the Saddle and Bootery-"
"My God!" interrupted the man in Bonn.
"The Andre conduit!"
"I beg your pardon-" "Stay on the line, I'll be back to you shortly." The minutes passed as the man in the Peugeot tapped the fingers of his left hand against the steering wheel, the telephone at his right ear. Finally, the voice from Germany came back on the line.
"Listen to me carefully, Paris," said the man emphatically.
"They've found her out."
"Found who, mein Herr?"
"Never mind. just hear your orders and follow them.. .. Kill the woman as soon as it is humanly possible! Kill her!"
aniel Rutherford Courtland, ambassador to the Quai d'Orsay, Paris, stared silently at the pages of Dthe transcript in his hands, reading and rereading them until his eyes were strained. Finally, tears ran down his cheeks; he brushed them away and sat upright in the chair in front of Wesley Sorenson's desk.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ambassador," said the director of Consular Operations.
"This pains me no end, but you had to be told."
"I understand."
""If you have any doubts whatsoever, Karl Schneider is prepared to fly here and speak to you privately."
"I've heard your taped interview, what more do I need?"
"May I suggest that you speak to him on the telephone? A deposition may be false, another voice can be used. He's in the phone book and you can ask for the number from an ordinary operator.. .. Of course, we could have orchestrated both to substantiate our conclusions, but I doubt even we could alter the telephone information system so quickly."
"You want me to do it, don't you?"
"Frankly, yes." Sorenson picked up a phone and placed it in front of Courtland.
"This is my private line, a regular telephone, and not connected to my console. You'll have to take my word for that.
Here's the area code."
"I take your word for Courtland picked up the phone, dialed the area code for Centralia, Illinois, as written on the note placed in front of him, and gave the operator the information. He pressed the disconnect, released it, and dialed again.
"Yes, hello," said the accented voice in Centralia.
"My name is Daniel Courtland "Ach, he told me you might call! I am very nervous, you understand?"
"Yes, I understand, I'm nervous too. May I ask you a question?"
"Certainly, sir."
"What is my wife's favorite color?"
"Red, always red. Or lighter-rose or pink."
"And what is her favorite dish when dining out?"
"That veal plate-an Italian name.
"Piccata," I think."
"She has a favorite type of shampoo, can you tell me what it is?"
"Mein Gott, I had to order it from our pharmacy and send it to her at the university. A liquid soap with an ngredlent called ketoconzole."
"Thank you, Mr. Schneider. This is painful for both of US."
"Far more for me, sir. She was such a lovely child, and so brilliant. The ways of the world are beyond my comprehension."
"Mine too, Mr. Schneider. Thank you, and good-bye." Courtland hung up the phone and sank