KGB locals were everywhere, but it had been a simple matter to slip the means of contact to Carlotta on a breakfast tray the second day.
That afternoon, she had avidly watched the snake charmer after leaving the door of the tailor shop on the far side of the square.
Every evening, over a hundred pickpockets moved through the square, preying on the tourists. Two of them now worked for Henry.
After a nod from Henry identifying Carlotta, the youths went to work.
Carlotta never felt so much as a tug on the purse slung over her shoulder.
Ten minutes later, several dirhams passed from Carter's hand to the youths, and the Killmaster was reading her note:
There are over forty of us, and three KGB representatives. We are staying all over the city, some outside the city. We will be given a new route each day, but the meetings are always in the same place. Beneath the shops on the west end of the square is a huge cellar warehouse. It belongs to a rug merchant. It is there. Every word is carefully recorded, and if any settlement is eventually reached, I think it, too, will be recorded and signed. I think these documents are taken to the same place each night and locked away. I hope to find out soon where.
Wherever it was. Carter guessed there would be a safe and a vault. That night after dinner, he gave Henry a complete list of materials he might need.
The man was a genius.
By midnight, everything was safely gathered and hidden away in their rooms.
The next day, the communication process was repeated. This time, notes were exchanged. Carter had written out, in exact detail, what Carlotta was to do when the time came.
The boy took only minutes to make the trade and return to Carter's side.
"Merci."
"Very pretty lady. Yours?"
"Not really."
"Too bad. You want woman tonight?"
"Not tonight."
"Too bad."
The boy shrugged and left, and Carter unfolded the note.
Nothing new on the place of safekeeping, but I'm getting closer. I can't wait to be with you again.
Carter paused, felt a tug at his groin in memory of when they were last together, and then continued to read.
Amani and I have discussed our plans of departure when the time comes. I think it will work out well.
The next afternoon, the purse was empty. Carter sighed. Now it was a waiting game.
He removed the glasses from his eyes and rubbed the burn from them.
The thin wail of reed pipes, the beat of drums, and the sounds of cymbals in the popping fingers of belly dancers wafted up to his ears.
There was sound and movement everywhere. Acetylene flares were already being lit on many of the stalls in anticipation of the coming darkness.
And men he saw her.
She was moving through the crowded square like a tall, raven-haired goddess in a lightweight white cotton dress. She paused only a moment in front of the snake charmer's mat and reached into her purse.
Carter held his breath.
Then a bright red and gold scarf settled over her hair, and Carter sighed with relief.
It was the signal.
The meetings were over and the agreements had been signed. She had the information.
It was all over, and it was time to go.
Instead of nodding to the youthful pickpocket, Henry swiveled his head and threw a glance at the turbaned Conjuror, who was already going into his act next door.
Carlotta moved on to stand in the first row in front of the stage, and Carter screwed the glasses tighter to his eyes.
The Conjuror started his spiel. His eyes in the gaunt, bearded face under the gaily colored turban seemed to rake the crowd. Then, after an interminable lime, they fell on Carlotta.
He was off the stage in an instant and tugging her forward. She pulled back, shaking her head and looking around at the crowd in embarrassment.
Carter could see the magician's lips moving rapidly, urging her to join in the fun. He gestured to the crowd for them to add encouragement.
They did, with exuberant chatter and applause.
Carlotta capitulated.
The magician guided her to a large, upright box at the rear of the stage and placed her, standing, inside. Nervously, she looked out at the crowd as the man began his mumbo jumbo.
He walked around the box, twirled it for the crowd, and then banged it to show that it was solid.
Then the door was closed and locked. A huge black curtain was draped over the box, and the Conjuror was again going through his gestures and incantations.
Carter shifted his glasses.
Henry and the snake charmer had already packed up. Carrying a huge straw basket between them, they were quickly making their way through the crowd.
He moved the glasses to the other side of the stage. A donkey cart of canvas-covered straw was already moving through the stalls.
The Conjuror gave the box one last final spin, and two assistants lifted the black curtain. The donkey cart was just passing behind the stage as the box was being unlocked.
Carter was already going down to street level when the door opened and a dark-skinned, scantily clad dancer stepped from the box, her belly rippling and the cymbals on her fingers jangling.
Carter cracked the door of the room when he heard the grunting on the stairs. When Henry's head appeared above the landing, he yanked it all the way open and darted into the hall.
"Any trouble with the switch?"
"Not a bit. Give us a hand!"
Carter helped them into the room with the basket. The snake charmer disappeared back down the hall, just on the outside chance that they had been sported.
Henry closed and locked the door as Carter lifted the lid on the basket.
"Oh, God," Carlotta moaned. "I could hear the snakes in there crawling around under the false bottom! Have you got a drink?"
"I sure have," Carter said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips and pouring her a whiskey.
She downed it in one swallow and held out the glass for another.
"What have you got for me?" he asked as he refilled the glass.
She stepped from the basket and moved to the bed, where she dumped the contents of her purse. From the mess, she selected a lipstick tube and pulled it apart. From one end of it came a tiny roll of paper.
"Here is a list of everybody there… their names, aliases, and the approximate times of their departures tomorrow. I was only able to get about half of the methods and routes."
Carter took the paper and hugged her. "It will do." He passed the paper to Henry. "You know what to do with that?"
"I sure as hell do."
Carter turned back to Carlotta. "Now, my dark-haired Italian beauty, what else have you got for me?"
"It's a jeweler's shop dealing in very expensive, high-class gems. Here's the address."
Carter memorized the address, burned the paper, and turned to Jason Henry.
"You know what to do from here on, Jason. Take good care of her. Now it's my own ball game."
"Nick, does this mean…?"
She had grasped him by the shoulders and spun him around.
"It means, Carlotta, that I won't see you until sometime late tomorrow afternoon. But you can do something special for me."
"What?"
He leaned forward until his lips were right at her ear. "Be bathed, perfumed… and naked."
With a chuckle, he grabbed a dun-colored djellaba and a pair of sandals from the bed, and was out the door before she could reply.
It was around ten o'clock when Carter reached the new part of town. He had shuffled all the way from the small hotel in the Medina and moved through the crowded souks to make sure he had not been followed.