'A dollar.’
'A dollar,’ said Avedissian.
The woman looked up briefly at him before exercising a professional control over her features and carrying on with the paperwork.
Avedissian said, 'Am I right in thinking that all details relating to this account will be kept confidential?'
'Yes sir… your dollar is safe with us.’
Avedissian thought the teller was being impudent until he saw that she was pointing to the bank's logo. 'Do you have a branch in London?' he asked.
'London, England?'
'Yes.’
'I'll have to check.’
The woman went to confer with a colleague sitting at a computer terminal. Avedissian saw the colleague pick up a blue-covered book and flick through the pages before nodding and pointing to an entry.
'Yes sir, we do,’ said the teller.
'Is it possible to have an account transferred between here and England?'
‘I’ll have to ask again.’ She asked. 'Yes, sir, it's possible. When the time comes you just fill in the appropriate form and we will transfer the account.’
'I'd like to fill it in now,’ said Avedissian.
'Now, sir? You want to transfer an account of one dollar?'
'I want to fill in the form just now. I don't want the account transferred till Friday. I'm expecting a large sum of money.’
The teller brought the appropriate form and Avedissian completed it. He handed it back saying, ‘Is there anything else I have to do?'
'No, sir, that's everything.’ The teller handed Avedissian confirmation of his one dollar deposit and the all-important account number that he had come to get. 'Have a nice day.’
Avedissian stepped out into the sunshine and felt that things were going his way. He paused at a news-stand and bought a paper before going to a nearby cafe and ordering coffee and doughnuts.
The story on page three destroyed his sense of well-being. His spine tingled as he looked at the photograph of the motel chalet where a man had been murdered. Police were looking for an English couple who had made their getaway in a stolen car. The description and licence number of the car were given. The worst news was that a gas station cashier had reported seeing an Englishman driving a car similar to the description a few hours after the murder. He had been heading north on the freeway.
Avedissian cursed his luck. NORAID, Innes, the police, they all knew now that he had headed north on leaving Kansas City. Avedissian read the story again and found some reassurance in the fact that there was no mention of the child. The slob at the motel had taken so little interest in them when they arrived that he had completely overlooked the fact that Kathleen had not been alone in the background. That made all the difference between a couple and a family. There was no description of either him or Kathleen in the story for the same reason, thought Avedissian.
The fact that the story was on page three also helped. Not everyone would see it. In fact a murder at a seedy motel in Kansas City might not have made the papers at all if it had not been for the fact of the car bomb explosion at the Plaza Hotel and the apparent murder of several other people. Police believed that the two events might be linked. The car bomb story itself had made page one. An Englishman had died and two Americans, and an unidentified man had been found murdered in one of the rooms. No theories as to reason or motive were offered.
Avedissian left the cafe and considered his position. He decided that they would have to leave the Lehman place sooner than they had intended for it was just conceivable that the waitress at the breakfast diner might be asked about an English couple and direct the enquirer to the house. They would have to find somewhere else. He checked his watch and saw that there would be a bus in fifteen minutes, and he still had things to do.
Avedissian sought out a large chain-store where he would be anonymous and bought a small Japanese cassette recorder then, remembering what he had said to Kathleen, he went to the toy department and bought a few things for the child before picking up some essential toilet articles and hurrying to catch the bus. This time he paid the driver and went straight to a seat at the back of the vehicle to discourage any questions or conversation.
Kathleen and the boy were playing together in the garden of the Lehman house when Avedissian got back. They both came to meet him when he appeared at the gate. For the first time Avedissian noticed that all trace of suspicion had disappeared from the boy's eyes when he looked at him. He was pleased.
'Did everything go all right?' asked Kathleen.
'I opened an account but we have another problem. They know we came north.'
'Who does?'
'Everyone.' Avedissian told her about the story in the paper. 'We'll have to move.'
Kathleen looked dejected. She said, 'Couldn't we stay here tonight? I don't think I could face another night like last night.'
Avedissian considered then agreed. It was against his better judgement but he wanted to stay too. He gave the boy the toys he had bought for him and saw him smile for the first time. It was a good moment.
As the boy played with a toy bulldozer Kathleen looked at him fondly and said to Avedissian, 'What are we going to call him?'
'He must already have a name,’ replied Avedissian.
'But we don't know it. We'll have to call him something.'
'You choose,' said Avedissian.
'I already have,’ said Kathleen. 'Harry.’
Avedissian smiled and said quietly, 'Why not… Our Harry.’
Avedissian left Kathleen and Harry in the garden while he went upstairs to their room. He got out the tapes that he had taken from Innes's room and plugged in the recorder to play them back. He searched through the first one, listening to snatches of conversation to establish where he was in the train of events. It brought back chilling memories.
He ascertained that the tape he was scanning had been for the room bug. The other cassette must hold the telephone monitor. He pressed the fast-forward button again then stopped it. He was listening to the torture sequence. 'The password!' demanded Innes's voice… 'All right… all right… it's ARCHIMEDES… but…’
Avedissian cued the tape backwards and lined it up to deliver the password alone. He removed the cassette and put in the other one to listen to the last telephone call made from the room. He wrote down the account number that Innes had asked for then changed over the tapes again.
There was no telephone in the room. He would have to ask Mrs Lehman if he could use hers.
'Of course,’ said Rosa Lehman. 'Is it a local call?'
Avedissian assured her that it was and she said that she would go speak to Kathleen outside until he had finished. 'Bless you,’ said Avedissian. He looked at the framed photographs that the old woman kept on her dresser while he waited for the bank to answer. One man looked as if he might have been Rosa's husband. There were two of young men in college gowns. The lawyers, thought Avedissian. A woman's voice answered.
‘This is Mr Avedissian, account number…’Avedissian read from the paper in his hand, '5523408.1 want to have the contents of account number 4494552 transferred into mine.’
'One moment, please.’
Avedissian's palms grew damp as he began to imagine the worst. A man's voice came on the line. 'How can I help you?' it said. Avedissian repeated his request and the man replied, This is an unusual request. I take it some arrangement has been made with the bank in this matter?'
'Yes,’ said Avedissian with his heart in his mouth.,
'Might I ask what arrangement?'
'A password transfer,’ said Avedissian.
'I see… one moment, please.’
Avedissian now began to have visions of the bank stalling in order to trace the call. He considered putting down the receiver and putting an end to the tension that was becoming unbearable.
'We don't seem to have a record of any such arrangement,’ said the voice.