‘Buying back the proceeds of unusual or large robberies isn’t particularly uncommon, is it?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Not really,’ said Willoughby. ‘Although obviously we don’t make a point of announcing it. There’s usually some token police objection, as well. Although for political reasons, I don’t think that will be very strong in this case.’
‘So there are people in this office who wouldn’t regard it as odd if they were asked to behave in a somewhat bizarre way?’ Charlie hurried on. ‘They’d accept it could be part of some such arrangement?’
‘I don’t think we’ve the right to put other people to the sort of danger you seem to think exists.’
‘It’s not dangerous – not this part,’ Charlie assured him. ‘I just want them as decoys.’
‘I have your promise on that?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Charlie.
‘Then yes,’ agreed Willoughby. ‘There are people who wouldn’t think it at all strange. They might even enjoy it.’
‘And what about you?’
‘I’m not enjoying any of it any more,’ admitted Willoughby, with his customary honesty.
‘Well?’ asked Charlie nervously.
The underwriter considered the invitation to withdraw.
‘Are you going to ask me to do anything illegal? Or involve the firm in any illegality?’ he asked, repeating his paramount concern.
‘Definitely not.’
‘I must have your solemn undertaking.’
‘You have it.’
‘Then I’ll help,’ said Willoughby. Quickly, he added: ‘With a great deal of reluctance.’
With the number of friends he had, decided Charlie, he could hold a party in a telephone box. And still have room for the band.
‘Excellent,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Now I think we should celebrate.’
‘Celebrate?’ questioned Willoughby, bewildered.
‘As publicly as possible.’
‘I wish I knew what was going on,’ protested the underwriter.
‘It’s called survival,’ said Charlie, cheerfully.
It was a tense, hostile encounter, different – although for opposing reasons – from what either the Americans or Wilberforce had anticipated when Smith and Ruttgers had stormed from the office less than twenty-four hours before.
‘Well?’ insisted Smith.
‘It isn’t what I expected,’ conceded Wilberforce, reluctantly.
‘Isn’t what you expected!’ echoed Smith, etching the disgust into his voice. ‘At this moment, Charlie Muffin should be trying to disappear into the woodwork!’
He stood up, moving to a sidetable where copies of the photographs had been laid out. He picked them up, one by one, as he spoke.
‘Instead of which,’ he said, displaying them to everyone in the room, ‘he’s practically advertising his presence from the rooftops, drinking champagne at the Savoy until he can hardly stand and then occupying the centre table at the river-view restaurant for a lunch that took almost three hours!’
‘He’s very clever,’ said Cuthbertson, in his wet, sticky voice. ‘We shouldn’t forget he’s very clever.’
‘We shouldn’t forget anything,’ agreed Smith. ‘Any more than we should have forgotten the point of this operation.’
‘It’s not been forgotten,’ said Wilberforce stiffly.
‘Just endangered,’ hit back the American Director. ‘God knows how badly.’
The Russian robbery had been in England, he thought suddenly. At the moment there was nothing to prove any American involvement. That was how it was going to stay.
‘We can’t eliminate him, not now,’ said Cuthbertson. ‘Not until we discover the reason for his extraordinary behaviour.’
‘Of course we can’t kill him,’ accepted Smith, careless of his irritation.
‘What do you think it means?’ demanded Wilberforce, of Braley.
Braley considered the question with his customary discomfort.
‘That there’s something we don’t know about … despite all the checks and investigations, there’s obviously something we overlooked … something that makes Charlie confident enough to act as he’s doing.’
Braley blinked at his superiors, worried at the open criticism.
‘I’ve always warned of that possibility,’ Wilberforce tried to recover. ‘That was the point of the bank entry in the first place, don’t forget.’
Smith looked at the other Director in open contempt.
‘It could just be a bluff,’ said Snare.
‘It could be anything,’ said Smith. ‘That’s the whole damned trouble. We just don’t know.’
‘The Russians are upset,’ said Cuthbertson, mildly. The first time anything had gone wrong and Wilberforce was unsettled, he saw. Practically gouging the pipe in half. He smiled, uncaring that the other man detected the expression. Always had thought he could do the job better than anybody else.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Smith.
Wilberforce looked sourly at his one-time chief before replying.
‘Formal note of protest to our ambassador in Moscow,’ he reported. ‘The Russian ambassador here calling at his own request upon the Foreign Secretary and two questions tabled in the House of Commons by some publicity-conscious M.P.s.’
‘Hardly more than you expected,’ retorted Smith. No one seemed to realise how serious it was, he thought.
‘We decided upon a course of action,’ said Wilberforce, pushing the calmness into his voice. ‘So far every single thing has proceeded exactly as it was planned. Certainly what the man did today was surprising. But that’s all it is, a surprise. We mustn’t risk everything by attempting ill-considered improvisations.’
‘You know, of course,’ said Smith, ‘that after that lunch he booked into the Savoy?’
‘Yes,’ said Wilberforce, the irritation returning.
‘Another assumed name?’ asked Cuthbertson.
Damn the man, thought Wilberforce. The former Director knew the answer as well as any of them.
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘He seemed to take great care to register as Charles Muffin.’
EIGHTEEN
Charlie knew he had registered at the hotel at exactly 3.45 in the afternoon. That concluding act of a flamboyant performance, using his real name, would have confused them sufficiently for at least a two-hour discussion, he estimated. Early evening then. And it would have taken more than twenty-four hours from the moment of decision, even if it had been made in the daytime when people were available, for the necessary warrants and authorisations and then the installation of engineers to put any listening device on the telephone in his hotel room.
Even so, he still went immediately after breakfast to the Savoy foyer to book the call to his Zürich apartment from the small exchange by the lounge stairs, then insisted on taking it in one of the booths from which he could watch the operator.
The first conversation with Edith was abrupt, lasting little more than a minute. Charlie allowed her half an hour to reach the Zürich telephone exchange. She was waiting by one of the incoming booths when he made the second call.
‘So you think the apartment here will be monitored?’ she said immediately.
‘Probably.’
‘The robbery wasn’t a coincidence, then?’
He smiled to himself at her insistence on an admission. She never liked losing arguments.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Of course not. I was trying to stop you becoming too frightened.’
‘You really thought that possible?’
He could detect how strident her voice was. He didn’t answer, refusing to argue.
‘What else happened?’ she demanded.
Briefly, Charlie outlined the details of the Russian robbery and the effect any settlement would have upon Willoughby’s firm.
‘They know everything about you, Charlie. Everything. You’re going to get killed.’