“I’m a quick study, kid. Don’t you waste time with non-essentials.”
The red came back in his face again and he nodded. “Tell me, Morgan, have you ever heard of the Rose Castle?”
Tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up and prickled my skin.
Yes, I knew the Rose Castle. At least I knew of it from a few who had been there and gotten out, a granite fortress built by the Spaniards in 1620, dedicated to death and destruction and used as a prison for political prisoners with a reputation of being absolutely impregnable and to tally escape-proof. The Spaniards hadn’t fooled around with modern conceptions of humane treatment for its inhabitants.
“So that’s where he is,” I said. “Yes, I know of it.”
Woolart studied my face and said pleasantly, “Yes, I can see that you have.” He paused, then, “Does the name Victor Sable mean anything to you?”
“No.”
“It shouldn’t. He is the one we want.” From the pile of papers he took three photographs and passed them down the line to me. They were front and profile shots of a man apparently in his sixties. He was partially bald, graying, his expression a curious mixture of seriousness and studiousness, and one I’d label as harmless. But for some reason he was pretty damn important.
“Background?”
“Nothing you need concern yourself with, Morgan.” From the papers he took several more and let me have them. “Detailed sketches of the Rose Castle as complete as we were able to get them. The top one is the original construction design we got from the archives in Madrid; the others contain modifications supplied by certain former inmates and a few bribed ex-guards. However, there has been some construction on modification of the interior which we can’t supply at this time.”
I took the diagrams and glanced at them. It took only a second to realize that an expert had laid out this crib. They were asking the impossible when they wanted a multiple break out of the joint. I handed them back but Woolart waved me off. “Keep them to study, Morgan.”
I grinned at him. “I already did, Woolart. I could duplicate them from memory right now.”
For the first time Mr. Rice spoke: “I hope you aren’t being facetious, Mr. Morgan.”
“It’s my life, friend; I hope not.”
“This isn’t a conventional operation. We don’t want to leave anything to chance.”
“Neither do I. Want me to show you my little memory trick?”
I was annoyed and they knew it. Treasury’s Carter said, “All right, Morgan. We’ll have to accept it.”
“Then get on with it.”
Woolart went through some more reshuffling before he looked up. “We’re basing your presence in that country on the fact that you are a fugitive from justice. They know of your forty-million-dollar coup and have always been willing to accept wealthy fugitives for as long as they could pay for the pleasure. There is no extradition act in effect between their country and ours, so whoever reaches their shores is safe… for a while anyway, that is.”
My mouth twisted in a funny grin. “They’ll be expecting me to pay for the privilege then. I’ll need financial backing.”
“Morgan…” Rice looked like he wanted to throw up.
I said, “If you were expecting me to dig into the forty million, you’re nuts. I’d be admitting guilt and leading you to the loot. No, buddy, your agency has funds earmarked for these stunts and it will be a pleasure to spend it.”
Rice nodded slowly, his eyes spitting animosity. “It will be forthcoming, Morgan.”
“But just to ease your minds,” I added, “keep in mind the premise that I might not have that loot.”
“For the moment, we’re not concerned with that.”
“The hell you’re not,” I laughed. “Now, when does the action start?”
There was a momentary lull in the conversation, the hesitation of a man about to go over the top into a place he might not come back from, then Woolart said, “Immediately. There will be nothing elaborate about the procedure at all. You will make all the arrangements for your own evacuation through sources you will personally locate. Our cooperation will be in keeping our heads turned while you accomplish this. For a person of your resources it should prove fairly simple. We will make no attempt to apprehend any of your, er, accomplices, so if you wish to make use of any friends, feel free to do so.”
“You mentioned a crime I was to commit.”
“An overt move against the government,” Woolart said.
“We’ll leave it to your discretion.”
“They shoot you for that down there, friend,” I reminded him.
“Not when they think you’re a person of extreme financial circumstance,” he smiled. “They’d much rather extract your fortune from you.”
“And when they do?”
“Then they shoot you,” he said.
“Nice people.”
“You should be used to them,” he said sarcastically. He picked up a printed sheet and scanned it. “A bank account containing twenty-five thousand dollars will be opened in the name of M. A. Winters.” He tossed two application cards across the table to me. “Sign those.”
I wrote in M. A. Winters in the signature space and shoved them back again.
“At the same time,” he continued, “in the Miami branch of the same bank we have taken out a safe-deposit box in the same name. You will retain the key. In the box there is a map that supposedly shows the location of your hidden money, but in reality shows one of our places. In the event you are forced to divulge the box and the key we will know you have failed the mission, but if someone else follows that map we at least will have our hands on one of their people who might be able to give us some information.”
“Ingenious.” I said.
He let my tone of voice pass. “Simple enough to be plausible. There really wouldn’t be much else for you to do. A man in your position either has to run or hide. Until now, you’ve been hiding. Now it’s time to run.”
“Why?”
There was another of those funny little halts in the sounds that a group of people make. Then Woolart said, “That’s simple too. You found a woman.”
It came on me like the dawn of a cloudy day, slowly at first, hardly taking shape until it was well established. I looked around at Kimberly Stacy, not quite believing what I had heard. But there wasn’t any denying it. That flat, professional, steely look in her eyes gave me the same answer, but I had to be sure. “Her? She’s the agent going in with me?”
“That’s right, Morgan.”
“You people are crazy!”
“We are?”
“How the hell could she contain me?”
Woolart’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Miss Stacy has had occasion to shoot five men, Morgan. She’s trained in all the skills demanded by her profession and is rated as one of our best operatives. I wouldn’t underestimate her.”
I was half on my feet, my voice grating in my throat. “Knock it off. You think those people aren’t on their toes! You think they couldn’t pick off a setup like that? They could spot a tail…”
Gavin Woolart shook his head, one corner of his mouth twisted into a wry grin. “I told you we were keeping it simple, Morgan. She won’t be tailing you. She’s going in as your wife.”
My mouth opened to say something, but he cut me off.
“Your legal wife,” he said, “in case somebody checks. You’re getting married by a J.P. in the State of Georgia.”
“Damn,” I said.
From her side of the room, Kim Stacy said, “It should be an interesting honeymoon, Morgan.”