«We’re trying to find your mother! You said she was traveling on a false passport, out of Lisbon. We didn’t understand that. Johann knows people who provide such papers; we were discussing it now.»
Holcroft spoke again into the phone. «Von Tiebolt? Is that you?»
«Yes, Noel,» came the calm reply. «Erich’s right. I have friends here who are trying to help us. Your mother could be in danger. You can’t be a part of the search. You must stay out of sight.»
«‘Can’t’?» Holcroft said the word sharply. «‘Must’? Let’s get something straight—both of you.» Noel spoke into the phone, his eyes on Kessler. «I’ll decide what I do and what I don’t do. Is that clear?»
The scholar nodded. Von Tiebolt said nothing. Holcroft raised his voice. «I asked you if that was clear!»
«Yes, of course,» said Johann finally. «As Erich has told you, we only want to help. This information about your mother’s traveling on a passport that’s not her own could be helpful. I know men who deal in such matters. I’ll make calls and keep you informed.»
«Please.»
«If I don’t see you before morning, we’ll meet at the bank. I assume Erich’s explained.»
«Yes, he has. And, Johann … I’m sorry I blew; I know you’re trying to help. The people we’re after are called the Nachrichtendienst, aren’t they? That’s what you found out in London.»
There was a pause on the line. Then, «How did you know?»
«They left a calling card. I want those bastards.»
«So do we.»
«Thanks. Call me the minute you hear anything.» Noel hung up. «Don’t ever do that again,» he told Kessler.
«I apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing. Just as I think you believed you were doing the right thing to have me followed from the d’Accord.»
«It’s a lousy world these days,» Noel said, reaching for the phone.
«What are you doing?»
«There’s a man in Curaçao I want to talk to. He may know something.»
«Oh, yes. The engineer who’s been relaying your messages.»
«I owe him.»
Noel reached the overseas operator and gave her the number in Curaçao. «Shall I stay on the line, or will you call me back?»
«The cables are not crowded at this hour, sir.»
«I’ll stay on.» He sat on the bed and waited. Before ninety seconds had passed, he heard the ring of Buonoventura’s phone.
A male voice answered. But it was not Sam’s voice.
«Yeah?»
«Sam Buonoventura, please.»
«Who wants him?»
«A personal friend. I’m calling from Europe.»
«He ain’t gonna come runnin’, mister. He ain’t takin’ no more phone calls.»
«What are you talking about?»
«Sam bought it, mister. Some fuckin’ nigger native put a wire through his throat. We’re beating the high grass and the beaches for that son of a bitch.»
Holcroft lowered his head, his eyes closed, his breath suspended. His moves had been traced to Sam, and Sam’s help could not be tolerated. Buonoventura was his information center; he had to be killed, no more messages relayed. The Nachrichtendienst was trying to isolate him. He had owed Sam a debt, and that debt had been paid with death. Everything he touched was touched with death; he was its carrier.
«Don’t bother with the high grass,» he said, barely aware he was talking. «I killed him.»
43
«Did your son ever mention the name ‘Tennyson’?» asked Ben-Gadíz.
«No.»
«Damn it! When was the last time you talked with him?»
«After my husband’s death. He was in Paris.»
Yakov unfolded his arms; he had heard something he wanted to hear. «Was it the first time you’d spoken since your husband’s death?»
«His murder,» corrected Althene. «Although I didn’t know it then.»
«Answer my question. Was it the first time you’d talked since your husband died?»
«Yes.»
«It was a sad conversation, then.»
«Obviously. I had to tell him.»
«Good. Such times cloud the mind; things are said that are rarely recalled with clarity. That’s when he mentioned the name ‘Tennyson.’ He told you he was on his way to Geneva, probably with a man named Tennyson. Can you convey that to Von Tiebolt?»
«Certainly. But will he accept it?»
«He has no choice. He wants you.»
«I want him.»
«Make the call. And remember, you’re close to hysterics; a panicked woman is unmanageable. Throw him off balance with your voice. Shout, whisper, stutter. Tell him you were to call your pilot at the seaplane base. There’s been a killing; it was swarming with police, and you’re frightened out of your mind. Can you do it?»
«Just listen,» said Althene, reaching for the phone.
The d’Accord switchboard connected her to the room of its very important guest Mr. John Tennyson.
And Yakov listened in admiration as Althene performed.
«You must get hold of yourself, Mrs. Holcroft,» said the stranger at the d’Accord.
«Then you are the Tennyson my son referred to?»
«Yes. I’m a friend. We met in Paris.»
«For the love of God, can you help me?»
«Of course. It would be a privilege.»
«Where’s Noel?»
«I’m afraid I don’t know… He has business in Geneva with which I’m not involved.»
«You’re not?» A statement made in relief.
«Oh, no. We had dinner earlier—last night, actually—and he left to see his associates.»
«Did he say where he was going?»
«I’m afraid he didn’t. You see, I’m on my way to Milan… In Paris, I told Noel I’d stop over with him in Geneva and show him the city. He’s never been here, of course.»
«Can you meet with me, Mr. Tennyson?»
«Certainly. Where are you?»
«We must be careful. I can’t let you take risks.»
«There’s no risk for me, Mrs. Holcroft. I move freely in Geneva.»
«I don’t. That dreadful business at Médoc.»
«Come now, you’re overwrought. Whatever it was, I’m sure it doesn’t concern you. Where are you? Where can we meet?»
«The train station. The north entrance waiting room. In forty-five minutes. God bless you.»
She hung up abruptly. Yakov Ben-Gadíz smiled in approval.
«He’ll be very careful,» said the Israeli. «He’ll mount his defenses, and that will give us more time. I’ll head for the d’Accord. I’ll need every minute.»
Von Tiebolt replaced the receiver slowly. The possibilities of a trap were greater rather than fewer, he thought, but the evidence was not conclusive. He had purposely made the statement that Holcroft had never been to Geneva; it was a lie, and the old woman knew it. On the other hand, she sounded genuinely panicked, and a woman of her age in panic did not so much listen as wish to be listened to. It was conceivable that she had not heard the remark, or, if she had, that she considered it subordinate to her own concerns.
Holcroft’s using the name «Tennyson»—if he had—was not out of character for the American. He was subject to quick emotional outbursts, often speaking without thinking. The news of Richard Holcroft’s death in New York could easily have put him in such an emotional state that the name «Tennyson» slipped out without his realizing it.
On the other hand, the American had displayed strengths where strengths had not been thought to exist. Giving the name to his mother contradicted the discipline he had developed. And further, Johann knew that he was dealing with a woman who was capable of obtaining false papers, who had disappeared in Lisbon. He would take extraordinary precautions. He would not be trapped by an old woman in panic—or by one who pretended to be in panic.