“And there was one little routine matter I wanted to ask you about. Have you a girl here called Judith Roth? I think you have.”
Pete did not quite know whether to bluff or tell the truth. She hesitated and then said:
“Yes, of course we have.”
“Do you think I could have a quiet word with her?” asked Donner with an air of humble sincerity, tapping his knee with the rose. Pete got up and said:
“Yes, let me see the roster.” She consulted a wall-sheet full of names. “She’s not on duty now. She must be in her room unless… If Judith were at the river, her papers would not be in the safe. She swung the heavy door and peered inside. No, there were the yellow folders and the writing-case. Judith must be in camp somewhere.
“If you will wait a moment,” said Pete, “I’ll go and find her and send her up here to you.”
Donner had not missed the slightest move in this little ritual of looking in the safe. But of course! Where else would one keep valuable documents in a kibbutz? There was no privacy in the huts — he knew that only too well from his frequent arms hunts. If plans there were, they must be in there.
Pete left the room, closing the door behind her; for some reason or other she did not lock the safe again, contenting herself with pushing the door shut. Donner rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then fingered his nose as he thought deeply. Then with an agility unusual for a man of his build, he tiptoed across the room and looked inside. There was a stack of purely administrative papers on the top, and on the bottom the folders with the words “Liebling: Physics Dept. U. of J.” printed on them. A large yellow envelope, the fatness of which promised well, was marked with the initials “J.R.”. Donner gave a low whistle. What luck! On the other hand, was it luck? And if it was, what should he do to turn it to profit? He could not risk a direct theft — that would be obvious. Still pondering, he examined the lock. It was a primitive little safe with an ordinary type of lock turned by key. He took out the little ring of skeleton keys from his breast pocket and soon found one to fit it. He had hardly replaced them and regained his seat when the door opened and a dark good-looking girl came into the room. She was, he repeated to himself, a good-looker all right.
“Miss Roth?”
Judith nodded and shook hands. “You wanted to see me?”
Donner put on a false heartiness of manner, swaying about like an avuncular clergyman and saying:
“I did, yes, to be sure I did.” They sat down and Donner cleared his throat, smiling at her in his most seductive fashion. “I wanted to ask you if you had a pleasant journey?”
“I don’t understand,” said the girl.
Donner wagged a playful rose at her and said:
“I suppose you wouldn’t be another illegal, would you? I know plenty of young ladies who are.”
Judith coldly recited the cover-story which had been invented for her and which she had been told to memorize. Donner waved this away and said:
“My dear little lady, of course, of course. I don’t doubt a word of it.”
Judith said: “Then what do you want?”
Donner leaned forward suddenly and allowed his moustache to bristle, in a minatory fashion.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” he said, “but of course you know the penalties for forging identity cards, don’t you?”
“Am I under arrest?” said Judith. Donner protested at once.
“Of course not. Of course not.”
“Then you have no right to talk to me like that. My papers are perfectly in order.”
“Now don’t get angry,” said Donner plaintively. “I didn’t come to make any charge. I simply came to…
“To what?”
“I came to help you, to offer my services… He sounded positively hurt at being so misjudged.
“How?”
Donner drew a deep breath and took the plunge.
“These papers, these plans… he mumbled vaguely, watching her face carefully. Judith’s face cleared and she smiled.
“You mean my father’s plans?”
“That’s it,” he said, much relieved.
“I see. The British Government wants to buy them? But I’m sorry, you will have to talk to Professor Liebling about that. I’m only doing the mathematical work on them.”
“Liebling?”
“Yes. As soon as my work is finished I shall deliver them to him. But that won’t be for a month yet.”
Donner looked confused and uncertain.
“I thought,” he mumbled, “that you might like them locked up for you under official seal. This is not a very safe place…
“Thank you, no.”
Donner laid his flower on the table, extracted a cigarette case and offered her one which she refused. He lit up and smoked in a laboured fashion.
“I know a good many people of influence,” he said at last, with clumsy amiability, “who have nothing to do with the British Government…
But she let the hint pass without comment.
“You may address any of your questions to Professor Liebling,” she said sharply. “Is there anything further you wish of me?”
“It was just an informal visit,” said Donner reproachfully.
“I have work to do.”
“Don’t let me keep you then.”
She banged the door so rudely that Donner’s lips twisted in a grimace of annoyance. However, he sauntered down to make his goodbyes to Pete and took himself off slowly, walking with that swelling, swaying walk which was intended to convey power.
He started the engine of the police car, but before slipping it into gear he took out a notebook and jotted down the name of Liebling. The journey had been worth it on the whole.
That evening at the Long Bar he accepted a fattish envelope from the hands of Ali in exchange for an account of his visit. Ali smoked very thoughtfully over what he had been told, silent as a chess-player.
“We must not be too hasty,” he said at last. “What about Liebling? Could you manage with your official net to cover him — then, when she brought them up to Jerusalem, we might… find some way? I am only calculating.”
Donner was pondering heavily. “Yes,” he said at last. “I could certainly arrange that. Provided I’m still here. I’ve got this posting to consider. It might come suddenly.” Then his face cleared. “But I could always go sick, couldn’t I, and delay it? And it’s worth it.”
“If we could get a look at them…
“You leave it to me. She said about a month.”
“And Liebling?”
“I think that can be looked after too.”
They signalled the waiter for another drink, and pledged each other smilingly.
15. The Paper-Chase
One night Judith woke Pete up by tapping on her door and exclaiming:
“Pete! Please forgive my waking you! I’ve done it. I’ve finished it. All the data are complete and in the right order and the little toy is in existence.”
Pete rubbed sleepy eyes and said:
“Heavens, Judith, it is the middle of the night. What toy?”
“My father’s toy — Professor Liebling’s toy.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Pete struggled on to her elbow and said:
“This calls for a celebration.”
“No, not yet. Later. But I wondered if I could go up to Jerusalem tomorrow evening and deliver all the stuff to Liebling. Anna is driving up and could take me.”
“Of course you can. You must. But you will have to ring Liebling and let him know — and you can’t do that from here.”