“Quite all right — until you came barging in.”
“I can understand your feelings, sir. But it is illegal, don’t you forget, your honor.” There was steel beneath the calm words; Jan knew better than to force the issue. “Just looking after your best interests. Have you been in the other rooms yet?”
“Then I’ll just have a look-round. Never know what you’ll find under these beds sometimes.”
Jan and Sara looked at each other in silence while the policeman stamped heavily through the rooms and finally returned.
“All in order, your honor. Enjoy yourself. Good night.”
He let himself out and Jan found himself shaking with rage, flushed and angry. He raised his fist to the closed door as Sara grabbed him around the shoulders and pressed her finger to his lips.
“They do that all the time, your honor. Bust in, boom, looking for trouble. They lie, all of them. Now we have a nice time and you forget.”
She held him tightly while she talked and his anger waned as he became aware of the warmth and closeness of her firm body through the thin material of her gown.
“Have another of this good Italian drink” she said, pulling away and crossing to the table. She rattled her glass against the bottle with her left hand while she quickly scribbled a note on a pad with her right. When she came back it was the note she gave him, not the drink.
MAYBE RECORDER OTHER ROOM. YOU ANGRY LEAVE NOW
“I’m not sure I want another drink. Do you usually have the police bursting through your door at all hours?”
“It means nothing…”
“lt means a lot to me. Get my coat. I’m getting out of here.”
“But money. You promised.”
“Two pounds for the drinks is all you’ll get.”
When she handed him the coat she had another note ready. YOU’LL BE CONTACTED it read. She squeezed his hand in hers — then kissed him swiftly on the cheek before she let him out.
Almost a week passed before Jan was contacted again. His work in the lab improved when he found that he could now devote his entire attention to it. Though he was still in danger, probably more danger than before since he was consorting with the underground, he was more relaxed. Less lonely. That was the important thing. Until he had talked with Sara, brief as the meeting had been, there had been no one to confide in, no one to talk with about the momentous discoveries and doubts. That solitary existence had ended, would be ended, since he had no doubt that contact would be reestablished soon.
It had been his habit for some weeks now to go into a bar close to the satellite laboratories for a drink or two before going home. The barman, fat, friendly, was a specialist in mixed drinks and devilish concoctions. There seemed to be no end to his repertoire and Jan had settled on a half dozen of the more interesting ones.
“Brian, what was the name of that bittersweet thing I had here a few days ago?”
“A negroni cocktail, your honor, specialty of Italy. Would you like one?”
“Yes. It appears to have great relaxing powers.
Jan was sipping at it, his mind still on orientation circuits for solar cell banks, when someone sat on the stool next to him. Female he was aware of that when the rich mink coat brushed his arm. The voice was very familiar though the accent wasn’t.
“Why Jan! It is Jan Kulozik, isn’t it?”
It was Sara, but a very different Sara. Her makeup and clothes were in the same class as her coat — as was her accent. “Why, hello,” was the best he could come up with.
“I was sure it was you, though I bet you don’t remember little me, Cynthia Barton, we met at that dreadful party a few weeks ago. Whatever you’re drinking looks divine; order me up one like a good lad.”
“Nice to see you again.
“Nicer to see you, it’s been one of those days. Hmmm, this is simply super, jtist what the doctor ordered. But don’t you find it hideously noisy in here, the music and all these people? Let’s drink these and go back to your place. I remember you were very insistent about a painting there you wanted me to see. At the time I thought it was just an excuse to get into my knickers, but now I don’t know. You’re such a serious chap that perhaps you do have a painting and I’ll risk my honor to find out.”
There was more like this, even in the cab, and Jan found that he need not answer but just let himself be washed along on the tide of words. Only after his apartment door was closed did she stop talking and look to him for a lead.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ve installed a number of alarms, bug detectors and the telltale, that lamp bulb, says all clear. If it were out I would know there had been some tampering. Dare I ask who Cynthia Barton is?”
Sara threw her coat on the chair and looked around the room. “Someone who looks a good deal like me. Not a duplicate by any means, but the same general size and hair color. When she’s away — she’s at a country house in Yorkshire this week — I use her persona to move in better circles. My ID is pretty good, enough for any casual identification.”
“I’m glad she’s away. It’s nice to see you again.”
“The feeling is mutual because there have been some rapid developments since I talked to you last.”
“Like what?”
“I’ll tell you in a little while, in context. I want you to get a clearer picture of the entire situation first. The man you were supposed to meet last time, code name John, is on his way over here now. I came first to let you know what was happening. You’ve got a stunning place here,” she added, with rapid change of subject.
“I can’t take any credit. When I bought it I was going out with a girl who had pretences of being an interior decorator. With my money and her talent this is what we got.”
“Why do you say ‘pretences’? She seems quite good.”
“Well, you know, it’s not really a woman’s field.”
“Male chauvinist pig.”
“What does that mean? It doesn’t sound nice.”
“It isn’t. An archaic term of contempt — and I apologize. It’s not your fault. You have been raised in a strictly male-oriented society where women are respected, but still second-class citizens.” A chime rang and she raised her eyebrows in query.
“That’s the entrance. Could it be John?”
“It should be. He was given a key to the garage entrance of this building and told to come to this apartment number. As far as he knows it is just a safe house where we are meeting; he has no way of discovering that you live here. It’s not perfect, I know, but it’s the best we could do in a hurry. In any case he is not an active man in the organization and there is little contact with him, other than as an information source. Better put this on.” Sara took a face-changer from her purse. “And the dark glasses, too. I’ll let him in.”
In the bathroom Jan pulled the flexible disguise over his head and the effect was astonishing. When he looked in the mirror a stranger stared back. If he didn’t recognize himself then he would never be able to identify the man called John. If he wore one of these as well.
Sara was talking to a short, stocky man when he returned. Though he had taken off his overcoat he was still wearing his hat and gloves. Hair and hands invisible. Sara was undisguised which meant that her identity was known to them both. “John,” she said. “This is Bill. The man who wants to ask you some questions.”