Charlie Muffin had been a rare man, remembered the K.G.B. chief. He did not think he had ever encountered anyone so professional, nor so vindictive in the face of personal challenge. Kalenin had often thought back with surprise at how short-sighted had been those people who took over the British department in which Charlie had been such a success and judged him dispensable. Not only had the decision been a waste of an agent whom Kalenin had often wished he could have had within his own department. It had also guaranteed the inevitable reaction from Charlie.
Abruptly Kalenin remembered his dinner guest of the previous evening. Because of Charlie it had been possible to bring back Berenkov to Russia within three years of his sentence. The man knew it, because Charlie had initially been so involved in Berenkov’s capture and his later interrogation that an odd respect had developed between them.
In the early months of his return to the Soviet Union, Berenkov had frequently asked for news of Charlie, guessing at the hunted existence the man had created for himself and wanting to know of his success in surviving. It would be pleasant, being able to give Berenkov the information for which he had so often been anxious.
The thought of Charlie’s personal safety reminded Kalenin of the operation he had initiated. He lounged back in his chair, contemplating the effect of his knowledge. He wanted to know a great deal more, he decided. A very great deal more. And certainly the last thing he now desired was to have Charlie Muffin assassinated. Deciding that the urgency demanded telephone rather than cable communication, he reached out towards the instrument which would connect him, via repeater stations that would disguise the true origin of the call, to the American capital, hoping as he did so that he was not too late to prevent Williamson carrying out the instruction to kill whoever it was who had his identity. He stopped, smiling, with his hand above the telephone. There was little risk of that, he reassured himself. Charlie was a survivor.
20
There was a dichotomy between Pendlebury’s appearance and habits and the way he regulated his work-life. As uncaring and casual as he was about himself and as distrustful as he was of restricting regulations, he nevertheless organised every assignment with painstaking care and efficiency, and so it was with this, the biggest operation in which he had ever been involved.
Aware from the electronic eavesdropping of every detail of Chambine’s robbery, Pendlebury had devised a plan which covered and then nullified every stage of it and made the failure of Terrilli’s entrapment virtually impossible.
Pendlebury thought of it as a ripple effect, in reverse, so arranged that as Chambine’s men passed through a series of checkpoints, the bands would draw together behind them, finally creating around the Breakers and Terrilli’s mansion a noose from which it would be impossible to escape.
Because he knew the robbery was scheduled for Thursday, he sensibly had not bothered to utilise the vast force at his disposal, maintaining instead the necessary but reduced surveillance teams and resting the remainder until the moment they would be needed.
He had assumed that the thieves would make the journey from Disneyworld to Palm Beach by road during Thursday, but just in case arranged to have a helicopter available at Orlando, should they charter a small aircraft. The watchers at the Contemporary Resort would trigger the whole operation with their notification to the communications unit that the six men were on their way. Between Disneyworld and Palm Beach, Pendlebury proposed to establish twelve radio-controlled cars from which he was confident he would be able to maintain absolute but undetected observation. The immediate surveillance vehicles were to be staffed by agents from the Lantana and Lake Worth contingents and as they started to move, so Pendlebury had arranged for the units in Miami, Boynton Beach and Fort Pierce to close in on Palm Beach, concentrating his force at the spot where it was needed. By the time Chambine’s men crossed the Flagler Memorial Bridge, Pendlebury intended to have 150 men within a five-mile radius, awaiting instructions, with two helicopters in the air, guaranteeing aerial observation. The cutters based at Jupiter were to be activated the moment the men left Orlando, giving them sufficient time to move around and position themselves within sight and radio contact of the Breakers and the mansion.
He had reviewed the arrangements several times, asking Warburger and Bowler for constructive criticism and had decided, even before getting their unqualified approval, that he had evolved a perfect scheme.
A believer that attention to detail was the keynote to success, he was yet again examining every section of the plan when Heppert, who ironically heard the news on the same local radio station that alerted Giuseppe Terrilli just a mile away, knocked anxiously at Pendlebury’s door. Immediately he was admitted, he blurted out that the English insurers were withdrawing cover because they were unsure of the security arrangements.
‘Shit!’ said Pendlebury, with a vehemence that startled the Pinkerton’s man.
‘Yes,’ agreed Heppert, misunderstanding the other man’s outburst. ‘I think it’s most uncalled for, too.’
Concerned that he would be affected by any apportionment of blame, Heppert said, ‘I only meant the figures I gave to be rough estimates. I never supposed they would be taken literally.’
The bastard,’ said Pendlebury, driving his fist against his thigh in frustration. ‘The rotten, awkward bastard. It’s the first time I haven’t anticipated him.’
Heppert frowned both at the remark and the extent of Pendlebury’s annoyance.
‘I presume you’ll call head office,’ said Heppert, unwilling to take the responsibility. ‘We’ll have to get guidance.’
‘Yes… yes, of course,’ said Pendlebury, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him.
‘The exhibition organisers have asked for a conference,’ reported Heppert. ‘They’ve asked the Englishman to attend as well.’
‘Give me an hour,’ demanded Pendlebury, looking at his watch. ‘Say two o’clock.’
He was reaching for the telephone when it rang anyway and Warburger came immediately on the line.
‘What the hell’s happening?’ demanded the Director.
Pendlebury cupped his hand over the receiver, looking at Heppert. ‘Two o’clock,’ he repeated, dismissing the man.
Pendlebury remained silent until Heppert had closed the door, then said into the mouthpiece, ‘IIe did something I hadn’t expected. Staged some damn-fool test last night, then claimed security was lax. I presume he complained to London.’
‘I’ve checked,’ confirmed Warburger. ‘The announcement came from there. Can they remove cover just like that?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Pendlebury. ‘That’s not what is immediately concerning me. The organising committee are demanding a conference, so they’re obviously frightened. God knows what Terrilli’s reaction will be.’
‘He might abandon it, you mean?’
‘He could,’ said Pendlebury, as a fresh wave of exasperation engulfed him. ‘Will Cosgrove be able to hold out against any premature closure?’
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Warburger. ‘He’s already called me direct. He wants a private briefing from you personally.’
‘What shall I tell him?’
‘Everything.’
Pendlebury paused, surprised at the man’s reply. ‘Even the idea of getting Terrilli indicted for the Englishman’s death?’
‘He wants involvement. Let him have it.’
‘I’d rather not.’
‘It’s an order,’ snapped Warburger. ‘And give the rest of the organising committee any sort of assurance they need. Tell them we’ll put in more guards – anything. I’ll fix it with Pinkerton’s here.’