The circumstances were optimum and might not be repeated for days. For days! And the kill was not to
be delayed.
"If I may," he said to the accommodating clerk, "since this is official business and the government would be most appreciative, could you tell me if "AndW is on the premises?"
"Good Lord, that name again!
"AndrC is very popular today, but there is no AndrE here. However, when messages come for him, whoever he is, the manager, Monsieur Rambeau, accepts them.
He's left for the day, I'm afraid."
"Very popular .. . today'?" repeated the killer, stunned.
"Frankly," said the clerk, lowering his voice, "we think the mysterious AndrE is Rambeau's lover."
"You said very popular .. . today--"
"Oh, yes. Barely minutes ago, an adorable young lady with a body one could kill for gave me a message for AndrE."
"What was it? Remember, I'm an official of the government."
"I doubt the government would be remotely interested. It's really quite harmless, even amusing, if I've figured it out correctly."
"Figured what out?"
"Cities, probably countries, as well-destinations they the substitutes."
"Sub9titutes for what?"
"Hotels most likely.
"Call London' could mean, the Kensington or the d'Angleterre; 'call Madrid," the Esmeralda; 'call Saint-Tropez," the Saint-Pores; do you see what I mean?"
"I haven't the faintest idea."
"Rendezvous for lovers, monsieur. Hotel rooms where strangers of either persuasion can meet without alarming those they live with."
"The message, please!"
"This one's really quite simple. The hotel Abbaye Saint-Germain."
"What .. . P, "The English for Allemagne, Germain-Germany."
"What?"
"That was the message for Andre, monsieur.
"Call Berlin."
In shock, the assassin studied the soft face of the clerk.
Then, without a word, he raced out of the store.
arm de Vries moved in with Drew at the Hotel Normandie.
"We just want to save the State DepartKment money, Stosh, and as a taxpayer, I insist upon it!"
"You're so full of bullshit, you could be a yellow torero. Stick with the uniform and the blond hair for another day; we've got you watched like a Derby racehorse. I'll explain to the hotel brass that you're a couple of computer freaks we can't stand but have been ordered to use." The colloquy had ended testily; Stanley Witkowski did not like being outflanked.
It was late afternoon and Latham was seated at the desk, reading the transcript of his older brother's debriefing in London after his escape from the Briiderschaft valley. Karin had suggested he request it; there were too many mounting questions about Harry Latham's list.
"It's right here," said Drew, underlining words on a page.
"Harry never claimed the names were written in cement.. . Listen to this. '.. . I brought out the material, it's your job to evaluate it."
"Then he had doubts himself?" asked Karin, sitting on the couch in the suite's living room and lowering the newspaper in her hand.
"No, not really, but he allowed for the outside possibility, not a probability. When it was suggested that he might have been 'fed dirt," he was mad as hell. Here. '.. . Why would they? I was a major contributor to their cause. They believed me!"
"The same kind of anger he showed to me when I told him about the Brotherhood having a file on him."
"He pounced on both of us for that. And right after,
when I asked him who Kroeger was, he said the words that'll stay with me for the rest of my life.. .. "I don't think I should tell you that, Alexander Lassiter can." He was two people, one moment himself, the next Lassiter. That's heavy."
"I know, my darling, but it's over, he's at peace."
"I hope so, I really hope so. I'm not religious, as a matter of fact, I don't like most religions. The violence done in their various names is about as God-like as Genghis Khan. But if death is the proverbial Big Sleep, I'll settle for that, and so will Harry."
"You never went to church as a child?"
"Sure. Mother's an Indiana Presbyterian corrupted by academic New England, and therefore felt that Harry and I should attend regularly until we were sixteen. I made it to twelve, but Harry quit when he was ten."
"Didn't she protest?"
"Beth was never any good at conflicts, except where track and field events were concerned. There, she was a tiger. "
"What about your father?"
"Another piece of work." Drew leaned back in the chair, smiling.
"One Sunday, Mom had the flu and told Dad to drive us to church, forgetting that he had never been there. Naturally, he got lost, and Harry and I weren't about to help him. Finally, he stopped the car and said, "Go on in there.