Terror's Cradle

`Perfectly clear.'

`Very well. It was not intended that the information should actually reach the Americans. The group of Russian Jews were neither espionage agents nor traitors to their country.'

I said, 'In that case, how do you know? '

`There are sources.'

Òne of them talked. There was a traitor among them.'

Wemyss said, 'I repeat, it was learned in the West that this . .. ah . .. plan existed. It seems the first courier, carrying the information in some physical form, was on a Russian aircraft which crashed on landing at Vienna three weeks ago. Another means had to be found.'

Alsa was the other means?'

Ìt seems likely.'

`What form did it take, this information?'

We believe it was photographic. We're not certain.' `What's wrong,' I asked, 'with word of mouth?'

Wemyss looked at me for a moment. Then he said, 'I

don't know.'

`What was the information?'

'We don't know that either.'

I said, 'This is bloody stupid!'

`So we thought at the time. Arrangements had been made by . . . ah, by Mr Elliot's organization, to intercept the courier on the plane at Vienna. The crash, of course, made that impossible.'

`The crash wasn't accidental?'

He hesitated. 'The courier was on the aircraft. If the aircraft was deliberately destroyed, the need must have been extraordinarily great.'

Elliot chimed in. 'A hundred and sixty-three people died.'

I whistled. 'Surely not. Not even the Russians — '

Wemyss said, 'The violence of the Russian reaction was enormous. There were a great many arrests inside Russia. We know that. But the Central Intelligence Agency learned, indirectly, from a source within the Soviet Union, that another attempt was being made to smuggle the information out via State Publishing House Number One. It seems likely that Miss Hay was the chosen method.'

`Why?'

Elliot said, 'She was there by government arrangement. She was carrying large quantities of photographic material.' Ànd you still don't know what it was?'

Wemyss lifted his hands and let them fall. 'No, Mr Sellers, we do not. But there can be no question now of its importance.'

I turned to Elliot. 'These two men in Gothenburg, Maisels and Cohen? They were Jewish. They were part of it, right?'

He nodded. 'We don't know how they originally planned to get this thing, but it's obvious they finally had to grab her.' ,

I said savagely, 'And they were murdered! Who by? Your people? The two Americans in the other room at the hotel?'

Elliot said tightly. 'No, sir. My ,people missed the whole damn' thing. But whoever killed Maisels and Cohen snatched your Miss Hay. That's for damn' sure.'

I said, 'And who was-that?'

But I knew the answer before he told me. Alsa was now a prisoner of the Russians. I shuddered. She'd tell them; she'd have no alternative. They'd find out where she'd sent the thing and then finish with her.

Wemyss said, 'You were right about the pressure of time.'

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Wemyss was looking at me uncertainly, as well he might. We both knew the way my thoughts were running and that the slight improvement in the atmosphere since the' DI5

man's departure hadn't affected the basic issue. His difficulty was that I might know something important; in fact, he was sure I did. He also wanted to know, quickly, what it was.

I didn't know what the snippets of information meant, and I wasn't going to find out sitting there talking to Wemyss and Elliot. Furthermore, even if I could somehow discover the meaning of Aggie Waggie and myopic, I wasn't going to pass on the - information without copper-bottomed guarantees. The Russians in Gothenburg had had Alsa for a whole day now, and wouldn't have been wasting time or sympathy on her. They'd know, by this time, precisely where and how she'd got the lens case away and would have made arrangements to collect. Indeed, the little packet would almost certainly have been delivered already. I groaned inwardly. Alsa was safe only while the Russians did not have the packet. As soon as they had it, they'd dispose of her. They'd have to. They couldn't afford to release her and let her broadcast what they had done. But if I told Wemyss and Elliot what I knew, I had no illusions about the action they'd take. They were after the information Alsa had carried. No more, no less. If a means of persuading the Russians to release her were to arise,

they'd probably take it. But that wasn't likely. The result was that nobody but me gave a damn what happened to Alsa. No, perhaps I was not quite alone. Scown would care in his own weird way, but even to get to Scown would be difficult and if I did, what could he actually do? It was imperative that somehow I get clear.

I said, 'Why do you suppose they grabbed her?' `You know as well as I do,' Wemyss said quietly. `Tell me.'

Elliot said, 'She got the thing away. That's why Maisels and Cohen grabbed her, and it's why the Russians followed suit. The question is, where did she hide it?'

`What's she like?' Wemyss asked me gently. 'You know her. Have you any idea what she'

d do?'

I thought for a moment, trying to manufacture some mental lever. 'She's cool,' I said. '

Doesn't panic.' `Resourceful?'

Ì'd say so. She's a damn' good journalist'

Wemyss looked at me thoughtfully. 'You're in love with her?'

I avoided it. 'I've known her since she was a little girl.' Was she in love with you?'

•

I ducked that one, too. 'How the hell would I know?' `To whom would she run in emergency?'

`Well, she phoned me.'

What about Scown?'

`The wrong man,' I said. 'He thinks only about newspapers. She wouldn't approach him, anyway.'

`He paid for her schooling. '

`You've got a file, have you?'

À poor one. Assembled too quickly,' Wemyss said, regretfully. 'We'd like you to add to it. We'd like to know who her friends are; whether she knows people in Sweden, or anywhere in Scandinavia for that matter. You know her friends?'

I shrugged. 'Some. The usual Fleet Street people. Her flat's been searched, of course.'

Òf course.'

I thought of something suddenly. 'What about the office?' I asked carefully.

`No. We spoke to Scown

I said, 'A lot of journalists just about live in the office. Home is somewhere to rest your head.' But I knew why the office hadn't been searched: because Alsa's disappearance was supposed to be secret. So if I could get to the Daily News office .. . I said, 'She'll have a contacts book. Phone numbers and so on.'

Ìn her desk?'

`Probably.'

`Let's go,' Elliot said quickly.

`You're nuts!' I said.

`Why's that?'

`Because the moment you show your face in the Daily News reporters' room, a lot of professionally sensitive noses will begin to twitch.'

Wemyss said, 'But if we go through Mr Scown?'

Ìf Scown descended from his eyrie into the reporters'

room, the whole place would start wondering why.'

`What you mean,' Wemyss smiled thinly, ìf I understand you, is that your own presence would cause no comment?'

`They don't even know,' I said, 'that I've resigned.'

He looked at me doubtfully, but his eyes flickered involuntarily to the clock. I waited while he thought it out; he was eyeing me speculatively, and wondering exactly what I knew. Finally he said, 'You'll have to be accompanied. '

I rose. 'Come with me yourself.' Knowing he wouldn't. He said, 'I think Mr Elliot.'