"Well, we think she was sent to Acapulco to kill a man, a British agent who died there last week under suspicious circumstances." Priscilla glanced towards Annette O'Leary. "But I don't really think we should discuss confidential matters here, if you know what I mean."
I said, "Hell, give your security a rest. We're giving Mrs. O'Leary a tough time; we can at least let her have the fun of watching some real secret agents in action. One more question. That woman you were chatting with at the airport. The blonde with the boyish bob and the football player figure. Where'd you meet her and who is she?"
Priscilla laughed. "Laura Waterman? Oh, she's all right, just a physical education teacher from California, on vacation. We met in the bar, and it seemed a good idea to cultivate her for company, since Tony was tied up in here when 1 wasn't, and a woman sitting around alone looks kind of conspicuous. I checked her out first, of course. She's harmless. We have nothing on her, nothing at all."
After a few years in the business, you can generally tell where truth ends and prevarication begins, particularly among the younger members of the profession. The laugh had been wrong and the voice had been wrong: the girl was lying to me. It startled me a little. It opened up, shall we say, vistas of deceit that I hadn't expected to find here.
I said, as if I'd noticed nothing: "Sure. You had nothing on Vadya, either, and you'll seldom meet a more dangerous lady." I went on before Priscilla could think up a suitable retort: "For that reason I'm going to leave the two of you to stand watch in here tonight, while I go out to dinner with her. Maybe I can get a hint of what she and Harsek have in mind. Okay?"
Priscilla said, "I suppose so, but what do you expect to learn from Mrs. Baum?"
"Not much," I admitted, "but she could let something slip, and maybe I can teach her something. Maybe I can convince her that I really mean business. Which brings us back to the question of whether or not she's got this room bugged: the answer is, it doesn't matter. I see that the next plane out of here is the Mexicana jet to Los Angeles tomorrow morning, which makes a reasonable connection with a TWA jet to Albuquerque, New Mexico. From Albuquerque, I shouldn't have too much trouble reaching Los Alamos; it's only a hundred miles and the roads are good. And I hope Vadya's receiving me loud and clear, because I don't want any misunderstandings. I'm using no tricks and no subterfuges. I'm not going to run, I'm not going to dodge, I'm not going to fight. All I'll do is put a bullet through Mrs. O'Leary at the first sign of trouble, wherever it happens along the way. I hope everybody's got that perfectly straight, including Mrs. O'Leary."
I looked at the red-haired girl as I said it. She licked her lips and didn't speak. I looked back to Priscilla Decker, wanting to ask some further questions: for in-stance, exactly why she'd been sneaking around watching Vadya and me on the beach, and just what it was that Annette O'Leary had seen out on the water that had got me sent here with such drastic instructions. But the last was very hush-hush information that even Mac hadn't been given, and our Miss Priss was obviously a security nut from way back. On top of that, she didn't like me, and I don't believe in asking questions of people just so they can have the fun of refusing to answer.
I went out and took a taxi to the airport, where I bought a couple of tickets to Los Angeles without any trouble. It took me longer to put a call through to Mexico City, but I finally managed that, too.
5
I TOOK A NAP before dinner, not knowing what demands might be made on my wakefulness in the near future. That is, I tried to take a nap, but the telephone aroused me before I had fully dozed off. I picked it up.
"You wanted some information, amigo," said the voice of my Mexico City contact. "I have obtained answers to your questions. Do you want them plain or should I fancy them up a bit?"
"Give it to me plain," I said. "If anybody's listening in, to hell with him. Or her. There are too many people being tricky around here without my adding to the number."
"SI, Seсor. Your first question concerned the sex of the assigned subject. Washington fails to see the relevance of this, which may be why it was not specified in the original orders. However, since you ask: your subject is female, age twenty-three, and red-haired. You lucky fellow. With respect to this subject, your instructions remain unchanged. Hokay?"
"Hokay," I said. "Carry on."
"Secondly, your descriptions of the agents already on the scene check out perfectly. Is there any valid reason to doubt their identities? If not, just take it you're dealing with the right people and get on with the job. Hokay?"
"Hokay," I said.
"Item number three: a broad-shouldered blonde with a mannish haircut. You asked about her."
"That's right," I said. "I was told locally that she's absolutely harmless. That always makes me suspicious as hell."
"And now, my nosy friend, you are told to stop playing detective and do the assignment you were given in the way it was given you to do. The lady about whom you inquire is none of your business, it says here, friend Eric. I will leave you to guess by whom it was said. That individual states further that I am to do whatever is necessary to make you understand that it is not your job to check up on your associates, or the people they choose to associate with. I am to make it very clear to you that your assignment is only a small part of a larger scheme, the details of which do not concern you, and that's an order! Any comments?"
"Yes, one," I said, and made it.
The man in Mexico City laughed. "Seсor, I will forward your brief remark, an four letters of it. Vaya con Dios."
It wasn't a conversation calculated to promote a relaxed frame of mind and a peaceful siesta, so I put on my damp trunks and took another swim. Bucking the big waves was a good way to use up surplus steam, and I'd generated a certain amount of pressure, being slapped on the wrist like a naughty boy.
Gradually, my temper cooled and my common sense returned. It occurred to me that Mac, although he could be high-handed enough upon occasion, wasn't usually unreasonable and dictatorial towards agents who were merely taking common sense precautions. It could just be, Washington politics being what they were, that he'd deliberately passed along an arrogant message that had been delivered to him, so I'd know there were other forces at work here and govern myself accordingly…
I was in the hotel lobby promptly at seven-thirty. Vadya made me wait only a few minutes before making her appearance.
"Observe the coat and tie as ordered, ma'am," I said when she arrived. "I do believe you have hit upon a new and subtle method of assassination. When I die of heat stroke, it will go down in the books as death from natural causes."
She didn't laugh. "Let's not talk about murder and death tonight, darling, not even in fun. How do I look?"
I guess the question was prompted by the way I was regarding her; I still wasn't quite used to thinking of this smartly slender woman as Vadya. She was wearing a straight, short, sleeveless white dress that touched her only lightly and only in the more significant places. In a way, hinting at untold secrets, it was more provocative than the more obviously revealing white bathing suit had been.
"You look indecent," I said. "Or perhaps the term is fashionably nude. Have you got anything at an on under that skimpy garment?"