Her would-be lover was rubbing his hands together at the table.
Carter donned sunglasses and tugged his knit watch cap down over his forehead when he hit the street. Passing the limo he made the license number, but the windows were blacked out with dark glass, making it impossible to read the occupants.
He walked a measured, slow pace to the comer, but once around, he broke into a sprint. Around the second corner he spotted Lily waiting nervously at the mouth of the alley.
"Was he all right?"
"Perfect. Did you get the address?"
"Eight Rue Celese… a block down and four doors to the right."
"You're an angel," Carter said, pecking her on the lips. "Get back to the hotel. I'll see you later."
Carter took off at a dead run. He made three blocks, turned, and then doubled back until he spotted Rue Celese. Two doors down from Number 8 and across the street was a "To Let" sign.
He rang the bell.
"Oui?" She was a harridan, about sixty, with huge, pendulous breasts, huger hips, and blue hair coiled on top of her head.
"I would like to see the rooms."
The woman looked at his clothes, his unshaven face, and started to close the door.
Carter managed to wedge his body between the door and the jamb. At the same time, he produced a thick wad of bills with the hundred-franc notes in clear sight.
"Actually, madame, I would like to use the apartment for about a half hour."
"Monsieur, you are insane."
Carter peeled off two bills, one hundred francs each, and pressed them into her pudgy hand.
"An affair of the heart, madame. I have been at sea for nearly a year. I return… my wife… ascoundrel…"
He accented his words with the French shrug. She hesitated but also shrugged when Carter added a third bill.
"Two-A, directly above. The door is open. And don't smoke, monsieur. I have just cleaned."
"Madame, I only want a place to set my eyes."
It was twenty minutes before tall and athletic came around the comer with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. The limo was nowhere in sight, but Carter knew it soon would be.
The would-be lover entered Number 8, and one minute later the limo sailed by and parked at the corner. Lily's two watchdogs jumped out and returned to Number 8.
They were efficient. The poor guy barely got out two words before they were through the door.
Five minutes later, the short one was out the door and heading for the limo for instructions. They were short, and in no time he was back in the flat.
Carter smiled to himself. If Pepe was as sharp as he should be, it would not take him longer than five minutes on his car phone to see that the lothario in Number 8 was a far cry from Bluebeard.
It took three minutes.
They both came out the door and made for the limo on the dead run.
Carter waited fifteen more minutes, then headed down the stairs.
The old lady was standing in the open door of her apartment. "Well?"
"Well," Carter said and shrugged. "I guess she decided not to visit him today,"
He cabbed to the Vieux Port and found a phone booth before returning to the hotel.
The call to Paris went through at once.
"Pallmar here."
"This is the man from Washington."
"Yes."
"I have a license number of a motor vehicle in Marseille."
"What is it?"
"F-S-S-X-four-four-one."
"And the number of your phone?" Carter read off the number of the pay phone. "Five minutes."
The connection died, and he lit a cigarette to wait.
It was a long shot but one worth trying. Carter guessed that whoever Pepe was, he was the go-between for the party buying the hit. If Nels Pomroy was Bluebeard's broker, the chances were pretty good that Pepe did not know Bluebeard's real identity.
That was why tall and handsome had taken some abuse that afternoon. If Carter could get a name, the cards were in his corner.
The jangling phone brought him back.
"Yes."
"The car is registered to Marc LeClerc. He has a residence in Nice and one in Marseille on the Rue Emile Zola… Number thirty-seven."
"And what does Monsieur LeClerc do to occupy his time?"
"On the surface he is a munitions broker."
"And underneath?"
"He is the banker for the Basque revolutionary front, Euzkadi Ta Askatasuna."
Lily was pacing the room like a caged animal when Carter made his way down from his own room and deposited food and a bottle of wine on the bed.
"I saw those men."
"Did you?" Carter said, biting into a loaf of bread and stuffing bits of cheese and roast beef into his mouth.
"They looked like killers."
"Did they?"
"Damn you. what is this all about?"
Carter set the food down and pulled the wad of bills from his pocket. He peeled off ten one-thousand-franc notes and placed them on the bed.
"A bargain is a bargain."
"Who are you?" she said, standing before him, chewing on her lower lip.
"I'm a man with a job… a strange job, but just a job."
He added two more bills to the stack and chewed off another hunk of bread.
"We'll stay put until tomorrow evening's phone calls. Once that's done, it's back to Avignon with you and a comfortable life for a while."
"And that is all I am to know?"
"That's all. Eat, the cheese is good."
She nibbled and sipped the wine until Carter had eaten his fill.
She watched him with wide, almost fearful eyes as he stood and stretched.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to my room. It's late and there'll be a lot to do before the phone call tomorrow afternoon." He leaned over and lightly brushed his lips over her forehead. "Good night, my little student."
In his own room, Carter stripped, then slipped Hugo under his pillow and Wilhelmina under the bed.
Between the sheets, he was asleep in five minutes, only to be awakened by a light tap on the door.
He slid from the bed and flattened himself against the wall by the door with Wilhelmina in his hand.
"Yes?"
"It's me… Lily."
Carter growled, then slipped the chain and turned the bolt.
The door was barely ajar before she slipped through it and closed it behind her.
"Where are you…?"
"Right behind you," Carter said, lightly touching her shoulder.
"Oh!… oh."
"What is it?"
"I'm afraid."
"Oh, Christ, this is a fine time to be afraid."
"I do not mean I am afraid of tomorrow…"
"What then?"
"I am afraid of tonight."
Carter frowned. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"
"Let me stay here with you."
"I thought you said…"
"That I would not make love to you? I will not. But I did not say I would not sleep with you."
Wearily, Carter stumbled to the bed and crawled between the sheets. "Suit yourself."
He heard her undressing in the darkness. Then he felt her weight shift the bed and the tug of the covers.
He was almost asleep when she slithered across the bed and molded her body to his.
"I am not afraid now."
"Good."
Silence.
"Do you want to make love to me?"
"If I say yes, you'll say no," Carter replied. "If I say no, your feelings will be hurt. Right?"
"I… I guess so."
"So I won't say anything."
She wriggled her soft, round bottom into his belly and found his hand. He did not try to stop her when he felt the full, firm mound of one of her breasts fill his palm.
"What is your name?"
He thought for a moment and decided it didn't make a hell of a lot of difference. "Nick."