They were joined in the elevator by five other men and two women, all speaking near hysterical French. Latham kept staring at one face after another, the blur of pinched features, squinting and then bulging eyes, strained voices, and pronounced throat veins became a cartoonlike montage Of screaming animals, each trying to out screech the other. Without thinking, Drew reached over a shoulder and pressed the floor he vaguely remembered having pressed before on Moreau's instructions. Two stops were made prior to the button Latham had punched; he and the lieutenant were alone as they ascended to the top floor.
"What were they saying?" asked Drew.
"I caught some of it, not much."
"They don't know what the hell is going on, but if you want to know the bottom line, they're all concerned about their jobs."
"I suppose that's natural. When this kind of thing happens, nobody's above suspicion; and when that happens, the clean sweepers come out of the government woodwork."
"You mean a lot of babies get thrown out with the bathwater?"
"That's exactly what I mean." The elevator stopped, the door opened, and both men walked out into the anteroom, whose various doors led to the corridors and offices of the clandestine operations agency. Latham approached the middle-aged receptionist and spoke.
"Je mappelle Dreu,--"
"I know who you are, sir," said the woman pleasantly in English.
"You were here to see Monsieur le Directeur several days ago. We are all still in shock, I'm afraid."
"So am I. He was my friend."
"I'll inform our new director that you're here. He came straight down from Beauvais-"
"I'd rather you didn't," interrupted Latham.
Chapter Forty-Three
"I beg your pardon?"
"Considering what's happened, he's got to be busy with so many problems, he doesn't need any interference from me. My coming here is inconsequential; I left some articles in the [email protected] car.
Is the agent named Franqois inside? I believe he drove the director down from Beauvais."
"Yes, he is. Shall I ring his office?"
"Why bother? He'd probably call Jacques-forgive me, your new director-and I really don't want to interrupt him. Certainly not over a pair of shoes."
"Shoes .. . ?"
"French, you see. The best, and quite expensive but worth every and."
"Naturellement." The receptionist pressed a button on her desk;
a buzzer from a door on the far right erupted and there was the click of a lock.
"His office is down that hallway, the third on the left."
"Thank you. Excuse me, this is my associate, Major Anthony, United States Army, Special Forces." The lieutenant snapped his head toward Drew in surprise as Latham continued.
"He'll remain here, if you don't mind. He speaks fluent French .. . and probably Urdu, for all I know." '
"Bonjour, madame. Mon plaisir."
"Je vous en pri . e, Major."
Drew opened the anteroom door and walked into the narrow gray corridor, moving rapidly to the third door on the left. He knocked once, opening the door quickly startling Franqois, who was as teep his head on the desk. He shot up, lurching back into his chair.
"Quest-ce que se passe?"
"Hello there, Wheelman," said Latham, shutting the door.
"Catching a little nap? I envy you, I'm tired as hell."
"Monsieur Lat'am, what ate you doing here?"
"I have an idea you may know, Franqois."
"Mon Dieu, know what?"
"You were close to Claude Moreau, weren't you? He knew your wife, her name, Yvonne .. . your two daughters. "
"Oui, on a less-than-familiar basis, monsieur. We all know one another, our families as well, but from a distance."
"And you're pretty tight with Jacques Bergeron too, Moreau's top gun."
"Tight?,)
"You and Jacques, Jacques and you, chief driver and chief aide, always together with your boss, the intrepid trio bound by years of working together. Regular "Mousquetaires." So ordinary, so usual, so easy to accept because you see them every day."
"Youtalk in riddles, monsieur!"
"Hell, yes. Because it is a riddle, a riddle based in utter simplicity. Who would question the sight of the three of you or the grief of the two who escaped being killed? A couple of hours ago, when I called here to tell Jacques where we were staying, guess who I got?"
"I do not have to guess. You spoke to me, Monsieur Lat'am."
"Everyone goes up a big notch, don't they?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about!" said [email protected], leaning forward, his right hand slipping across the edge of the desk to a drawer. Suddenly he yanked it open, but Drew lunged over, slamming it shut with such force on the driver's wrist that he began to scream, the roar cut short by