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Willoughby said at once, ‘Why, you can do that from my office. He wouldn’t thank you for using an open line, and—’

‘Did he tell you the whole story, Commander Willoughby?’

‘Maybe he didn’t, Commander, I wouldn’t know. He sounded in a hurry, my chief said. If you could tell me anything more, maybe I could be some help.’

Shaw breathed hard down his nose and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, passed it round, and lit up. He took a lungful of smoke. ‘Any idea why Pullman’s getting anxious about me?’

Willoughby, once again, looked embarrassed. He glanced across at Cassidy and asked, ‘Well? Do we tell him, d’you think, Cass?’

Lieutenant Commander Cassidy shrugged broad shoulders. He said with a grin, ‘If you can guarantee the Commander won’t go up in flames, sir, go right ahead! It’s the Admiral’s idea anyway, not ours.’

‘That’s correct.’ Willoughby leaned forward, palms on knees, eyes twinkling in a friendly apology. He said, ‘Now don’t get too hot under the collar, Commander, but I believe Pullman may like to have an eye kept on you. It’s nothing personal, take my word for that. But I’m afraid we do have the idea over here that your Admiralty isn’t all that leak-proof and maybe Pullman’s playing extra safe on this. I don’t like it any more than you do, because I’ve had contacts with some of your boys, including your lot’s Number Two — Captain Carberry, isn’t it? But there it is. Now, I’ve got a car just around the block, so if you’d care to come along to my office and call Pullman, I’ll be glad to take you.’

* * *

As they went down the steps of the hotel Shaw was still feeling ruffled at what he considered to be Pullman’s double dealing, but he reminded himself that Pullman was in fact sticking his neck out a remarkably long way by employing him at all, so perhaps he felt entitled to some consideration on that score.

They turned to the left towards the corner of the block, walking through the slush towards a Buick parked just around the corner. Willoughby unlocked the doors and slid in behind a wheel, telling Shaw to get in beside him. Cassidy got in the back, hunched himself into a corner, and opened a packet of spearmint. Willoughby let in the clutch and nosed out into West 104th, turning right, and a few moments later they were heading downtown, following the traffic along Broadway with Willoughby chatting away easily about life in the U.S Navy and his various assignments overseas and now and again drawing Shaw’s attention to points of interest. They headed out over Brooklyn Bridge, crossing the East River and the harbour above the Battery, and it was only when the Buick turned the wrong way for the Navy Yard and then rather suddenly crammed on speed that Shaw began to feel just a trifle puzzled.

He asked, ‘Taking the long way round?’

‘That’s right, Commander.’ Willoughby glanced sideways, shrewdly, Shaw fancied that his mouth had hardened and that the voice wasn’t quite so friendly. ‘Don’t let it worry you.’

‘I don’t, but—’

‘It’s just precautions.’ Willoughby was looking ahead now as he sent the Buick on fast, but Shaw had the idea he was watching him out of the corner of his eye, and closely too. ‘We don’t advertise the fact, but we don’t have our office in the Navy Yard itself, Commander. We like to keep anonymous. We find it pays. So we aren’t heading for the Navy yard.’

Willoughby’s hands moved and the Buick screamed round a bend and then, straightening, roared ahead. Suddenly, illogically, Shaw sensed trouble. His fingers slid almost instinctively into his jacket, and Willoughby said calmly, with out turning his head, ‘Okay, Cass, he’s getting suspicious.’

That was when Shaw felt the cold pressure of the gun, boring into his neck. He said in a hard voice, ‘All right, you win for now. I’ve got the set-up. But why the play acting?’

‘Because it would have been too risky to march you through that hotel at gun-point.’ Willoughby was handling the car beautifully, expertly. ‘That clerk’d have yelled for the cops as soon as our backs had disappeared down the steps. This way it’s safe — you’ll see why. We’re heading for the warehouse of the Frazer Harfield Packaging Corporation, which is where Cass and I are supposed to be executives, and we’re going to see a man called Rudolf Fleck, attorney-at-law, who operates a smart divorce practice from the Massachusetts State Life Building on Manhattan… when he isn’t over this side, that is. And if you move a muscle other than to suck in air, Cass blows your throat out. Okay?’

Chapter Eleven

The Buick swung left off a dirty side street and entered a big warehouse in which a number of vehicles were standing at the loading-bays. It drove right through, slowly, and entered a tunnel-like, brick-built passageway leading off at the end. Willoughby switched on his headlights, for the tunnel was unlit. He went along slow for perhaps thirty yards and then pulled up by a door. He said, ‘Your gun.’

Shaw’s eyes snapped but he handed it over. Willoughby barked, ‘Out!’

Shaw climbed out, with Cassidy close behind him. Willoughby came round the front of the Buick. He passed ahead of Shaw and opened the door in the wall and then Shaw felt the gun press into his spine as Cassidy nudged him forward. Willoughby led the way through into a narrow, stone-floored, ice-cold passage. At the end of this passage he opened a door leading off to the right, and Shaw was prodded on into a vast, high store stacked with flat cardboard containers. Though he couldn’t spot its location, there seemed to be some machinery working somewhere, for he could hear a subdued hum like that made by the ventilation system of a ship. Willoughby went straight ahead to a door at the end. He passed into yet another passage with a number of offices opening off it and stopped at a door inscribed Mr H Willoughby and, underneath this, Special Research Unit. He opened this door, and Shaw followed him into a utilitarian-looking room with a desk and filing cabinets and all the usual office fittings. Except one, as it turned out, which was scarcely usual — for Willoughby crossed the room and opened up a cupboard, into which Shaw was pushed, Willoughby and Cassidy crowding in behind him. The constricted space was filled almost to capacity already with coats, mops, buckets, brooms and all the general paraphernalia of cleaners.

As Cassidy, still chewing spearmint, closed and locked the door Shaw said, ‘What the—’

‘Can it!’ Willoughby’s voice was sharp. He cleared his throat and then said distinctly and with exaggerated enunciation, ‘A man’s a man for a’ that.’ Shaw stared in amazement; Cassidy seemed to be not at all surprised by this curious utterance, and after that there was silence but for the breathing of the men in the small space. Shaw wondered with interest what the next move would be, and then, as Willoughby began to show signs of impatience, there was a click, the whine of an electric motor, and the whole compartment, buckets, coats, mops and all, began to descend — much to Shaw’s astonishment. The last thing he had expected was that this cupboard would turn out to be an elevator, and a bugged one at that. Wired for sound it must have been, and Willoughby’s invocation of Burns had been by way of a password to an operator below.

He had no idea how far down they had gone when the elevator came to a stop alongside a door similar to the one above. Cassidy pushed this door open and Shaw and Willoughby followed him into a small lobby, empty but for one hard upright chair — and a tall, well-built, square-headed man who greeted Willoughby in a very faint yet unmistakable German accent.