whereabouts of the valley! They'll send in planes; you'll be bombed out of existence!"
"It will not matter, for as von Schnabe will undoubtedly tell you, we won't exist."
"Please, Gerhardt, one thing at a time. I will not take another step until you explain yourself."
"Later, Hans. Greet our patient first, then you'll understand."
"My dear Greta," said Traupman, turning to the wife.
"Is this husband of yours the same logical human being I knew before?"
"Yes, Doctor. This part, the part he will explain to you, I do understand. It's brilliant, sir, you'll see."
"But first see our patient; he's the next window, the next door on the right. Remember, his name is Lassiter, not Latham."
"What should I say to him?"
Chapter Five
"My hope, my expectation. I did not ask you about Jodelle, you accosted me. How did you know I was looking for him?"
"You shouted his name a few moments ago."
"And on that trivial excuse you enter my life and destroy my anticipation? Perhaps I should ask who you are, monsieur. You're dressed too richly to be acquainted with my friend Jodelle-that son of a bitch! What is Jodelle to you? Why did you come in here?"
"You're a lunatic," said the man, reaching into his pocket.
"Here, here's a twenty-franc note, and I apologize for coming into your life."
"Oh, thank you, sit, thank you!" Jean-Pierre waited until the curious stranger reached the sunlit pavement, then raced up the alley, peering around the corner as the man approached a car parked at the curb twenty meters up the street. Again feigning a half-mad vagabond of Paris, Villier lurched onto the sidewalk, prancing like a deformed court jester, shouting at his benefactor.
"May God love you and may the holy Jesus embrace you, monsieur!
May the glories of heavenly paradise be-"
"Get the hell away from me, you drunken old tramp!"
Oh, I certainly will, thought Jean-Pierre, studying the license plate of the departing Peugeot.
It was late afternoon when Latham took the elevator down to the embassy basement complex for the second time in eighteen hours, not, however, to head for Communications, but instead to the sacrosanct Documents and
Research. A marine guard sat at a desk to the right of the steel door; he recognized Drew and smiled.
"How's the weather up there, Mr. Latham?"
"Not as cool and clean as yours, Sergeant, but then, you've got the most expensive air-conditioning."
"We're very delicate down here. You want to enter our hall of secrets and hard-core porn?"
"They showing dirty movies?"
"A hundred francs a seat, but I'll get you in for nothing.
"I could always count on the marines."
"Speaking of which, the fellas in the squad want to thank you for the freebies you set up for us at that cafe in the Grenelle."
"My pleasure. You never know when you might want to see a dirty movie.. .. Actually, the people who own that place are old friends and your presence had a calming effect on some unattractive regulars."
"Yeah, you told us. We dressed to the nines, like we were in an operetta or something."
"Sergeant," interrupted Drew, looking at the guard.
"Do you know a Karin de Vries in D and R?"
"Only to speak to' good morning, good night," that's about it.
She's a real good7looking girl, but it seems to me she tries to hide it. Like with those glasses that must weigh five pounds and those dark clothes that definitely aren't Paris."
"Is she new here?"
"I'd say about four months, transferred from NATO. Word is that she's kinda quiet like and keeps to herself, y'know what I mean?"
"I think so.. .. All right, keeper of the mystic keys, get me into a front seat."
"Actually, it's in the first row, third office on the right. Her name's on the door."
"You peeked?"
"Damn right. When that door's locked, we patrol the place every night, keep our hands on our sidearms in case there are uninvited stragglers."
"Ah, the secret-missions types. You should be in the movies, the cleaner ones."
"You should talk. A full-course dinner with all the wine we could drink for thirteen gyrenes? And a nervous owner who kept racing around telling everybody we were his best friends and probably his American relatives, who would be at his place with bazookas the minute he called us, anytime he was in trouble? That's a straight arrow, Hardy Boys scenario?"
"A harmless, innocent invitation by an ardent admirer of the Corps."
"Your nose is growing longer, Mr. Pinocchio."
"You've torn my ticket. Let me in, please."
The marine pressed a button on his desk and a loud click was heard in the steel door.
"Enter the Wizard's