"First they make one shoot them, then they expect one to patch them up. It's no fun being a woman," she said.
"The information Loomis is asking for is a little expensive," Lederer said to Craig. "Why don't you and I just settle this privately? I could go up to a million five."
"No deal," said Craig. "I'm sorry."
"It's too bad we need that bastard," said Lederer. "He costs too much."
Joanna looked up from Harry.
"What makes him so very expensive?" she asked.
"He can make the deserts blossom," said Lederer. "Put him down on sand and sea water and he'll turn it into an orange grove. It takes money and it takes technology, but he can do it. So we'll work out the technique, and sell it round the world."
"Sell it?"
"Not for money. As you say—we Americans have enough. For cooperation. For commitment." "You should start with Israel," Craig said. "We intend to."
"He's not exactly a willing worker," said Craig.
"He will be. Who else has he got but us?" He looked into Craig's eyes. "You don't like him much, do you?"
"I don't like him at all. But he's needed. A lot of better men died because of him, but the world hasn't any use for them. They couldn't do his trick."
"Give him a few years and he'll be just as friendly and lovable and integrated as any other millionaire," said Lederer. The lock expert groaned and twitched feebly.
"I guess we better be going," Lederer said. It sounded like a question.
"I think you had," said Craig.
"Just one thing I want to ask. How on earth did you know we were coming?" "We had her followed."
"Sure. I know that. Your local guy. We blocked him off before he could get near."
"We rather thought you would," said Craig. "You're very efficient. So we put another man on to her as well. Flew him in from England this morning."
Lederer accepted it without regret. "I guess we had it coming," he said. "One way or another, we gave you quite a runaround." He looked at the sleeping figure on the bed. "And Miss Loman."
"If your own operators hadn't been blown, you'd have got him yourselves," said Craig. "You did all you could do 1—under the circumstances."
"The circumstances were lousy," Lederer said. "But at least we've got Kaplan."
"You will have, tomorrow," said Craig.
"You're flying him back?"
"BOAC. It was funny how every American airline just happened to have four seats available."
Lederer grinned. "Can't blame us for trying, son," he said. "Next time, we'll block you off before the operation even gets started."
"There won't be a next time," said Craig.
The man on the floor groaned again. He should have been happy.
For the Americans, getting out of the hotel was easy. They used the same drunken-party technique they'd used with Craig, a hundred-drachma note to a night porter, and a waiting Buick. When they'd gone, Joanna put down the gun, stretched her arms and sighed. Translucent silk slid over her hips, stretched taut across her breasts.
"What a very exciting night," she said.
"Stop being the middle pages of Playboy" said Craig.
She moved toward him.
"I feel like the middle pages of Playboy," she said. She stood very close to him, and kissed him. He made no response. "Is it her?" she asked, and looked at the bed.
"No," Craig said. "That's over. In a way, it never even started. It was all loneliness and fear and"—he struggled for the word—"compassion. It almost got her killed. She deserves better than anything I could give her."
"I don't," Joanna said. "I don't expect it. I don't want it. You're what I want."
"Is that why you let me go free?"
"Of course it was."
Craig laughed. "And I thought it was because you thought you had a better chance with me than with Royce."
Suddenly, she was laughing too. It made her more beautiful, more exciting than ever. Still kughing, she pressed herself against him once more.
"You and I will get on beautifully, darling. You've so much to teach me," she said. Her arms came around him. "And vice-versa, of course."
CHAPTER 15
They flew to Rome, and then to New York. This time the movie was about sex in the Deep South. Craig's sympathies were with the South. He had always understood it had problems enough without that. Back in time they went, eating the same plastic meals, drinking the exactly measured drinks; bored, restless, embalmed in space. Craig sat beside Miriam, and tried to think of ways of saying good-bye. There were none.
"I'm taking a holiday," she said. "I reckon I deserve it."
"Send the bill to Force Three," he said. "The least they can do is pay."
"I thought maybe you'd like to come along."
"You've had enough of me, and everybody like me."
"Listen," she said. "Sometimes I hate you. Sometimes I could kill you for the way you can always get a rise out of me. The way you look at life—the things you do—it hurts me even when I think of them. The trouble is I love you."
"The trouble is I make you unhappy."
"I was happy for five nights," Miriam said. "Maybe I was lucky it lasted so long. You said something like that to Kaplan—that night in Troodos. Only he had six months."
"Maybe he earned it," Craig said.
"After what he did?"
"After what he suffered. You had it rough, Miriam, and most of it was my fault, and I'm sorry. But Kaplan—we can't even begin to guess the things they did to him."
"What about the things he did to the Jews? His own people."
"He's paid for some of them," said Craig. "He'll go on paying. Even more than he owes."
"How?"
"The United States wants his knowledge—to help underdeveloped countries. They'll protect him, give him asylum, and in return he'll work on desert-reclamation problems."
"What's wrong with that?"
"The first place they'll send him to is Israel."
"Israel?"
"Can you imagine the propaganda the Russians will make out of that? The things they'll say about him? What he did to the friends who trusted him?"
"Israel won't accept him," Miriam said.
"Israel must," said Craig. "They need the water. But he'll never be one of them, love. He's alone now till he dies. You should pity him."
"He deserves it," the girl said. "He deserves much more. Even a Jew couldn't pity him, after what he'd done."
Craig leaned back in his seat. Maybe the best thing was silence, after all.
He'd hoped for a glimpse of Marcus Kaplan when they reached Kennedy, but instead they were whisked into a VIP lounge and a smart matronly person like a successful beautician took Miriam away as soon as they'd said goodbye. Three men waited for Kaplan. Two of them were Lederer and the lock expert, the third a scientist whom Kaplan recognized at once. The scientist began asking questions, and Kaplan's replies at first were hesitant, dredged up deep from the well of memory.
"It's been so long," he said.
"Wait till we get to Utah," the scientist said. "We have everything set up there under test conditions. You'll soon catch up."
He went on talking, and as they watched, Kaplan came to life.
"How's Harry?" Joanna asked.
"Mending," said Lederer. "But you've really shaken his faith in Western woman. If he doesn't watch it, he'll wind up a fag."
A chauffeur and two more men appeared, and Lederer tapped Kaplan on the shoulder. He started, and for a moment the fear returned, then he relaxed. He was important now, with a bodyguard of his own. Gravely he waited as the big men surrounded him, walked him to the door. Craig wondered if he'd lied to Miriam after alclass="underline" if the Kaplans of the world ever paid back a cent.
He and Joanna were alone now, except for a short, stumpy figure who had waited for them patiently. Now he came forward: a chubby, benign man wearing hexagonal rimless glasses.