“How awful.”
“My wife is pretty proud of her tattoo,” Girland said as they got into the elevator. “I have to watch her. She’s always trying to show it to people... gets a little embarrassing.”
Ginny looked at him and then laughed.
“Oh, I see... you’re kidding.”
Girland smiled at her.
“That’s it.”
“I expect you are glad you have found her. It must be dreadful to lose one’s memory.”
“It would suit me,” Girland said. “I have so much on my conscience.”
The elevator doors swished open and Ginny led Girland across the corridor to Room 140.
She opened the door and Girland, suddenly aware of unexpected tension, walked into the room. He came to an abrupt standstill when he saw a short, thickset man, wearing a white coat bending over the woman in the bed.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Girland said.
The man turned slowly and stared at Girland. His small black eyes shifted from Girland to Ginny who was looking at him, a dismayed expression on her face.
Smernoff quickly recovered his nerve.
“What is it, nurse? Who is this gentleman?”
“I’m sorry, doctor.” Ginny was puzzled. She hadn’t been working in the hospital for very long, but she thought she knew all the doctors by sight. She had never seen this man before, but her awe of authority made her cautious.
“She’s my wife,” Girland said, pointing to the woman in the bed. “Dr. Forrester said it was okay for me to take her home.”
Smernoff moved into the shadows. He dropped the empty hypodermic into his pocket. He regarded Girland. He immediately decided this tall, wiry man must be one of Dorey’s agents. This could mean trouble, and there was something about this man that stirred his memory. He felt certain he had seen him before.
“Well, that is all right,” he said. “She has had an injection and she won’t wake now until tomorrow morning. Come back then, and she will be quite fit to travel.”
When you enter a hospital, a doctor becomes some kind of god. The white coat, the stethoscope and the know-all manner makes an impression on most people, and Girland was no exception.
“Excuse me, doctor, but I was told I could move her tonight.”
“Well, you can’t,” Smernoff snapped. “Didn’t you hear what I said? She has had an injection. She will be ready to leave tomorrow, but not before.”
Girland lifted his shoulders in resignation and began to move to the door when he suddenly noticed this man was wearing khaki trousers below his white coat and his highly polished shoes were of a military cut. His eyes shifted to the hard, flat face. He had a sudden memory of a man with a rifle, shooting at him in a wasteless desert in Senegal.
“Okay, doctor, then I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” he said mildly, but his brain was working swiftly. He must be mistaken, he was telling himself. The Russian who had tried to kill him in Senegal was dead. He was sure of that.
He opened the door and was confronted by Kordak, pushing a wheel-stretcher before him.
Kordak’s automatic rifle lay on the stretcher. With a lightning movement, Kordak snatched up the rifle and levelled it at Girland.
“Don’t move!”
Ginny caught her breath in a gasp. Cursing, Smernoff reached her and clapped his hand over her mouth.
“Scream and I’ll break your neck!” he snarled.
Girland moved cautiously back, his hands held shoulder high as Kordak came into the room.
There was a brief dramatic pause, then Smernoff released Ginny.
“Make a sound and you’ll be sorry,” he said, stripping off his white coat. He jerked out his Service revolver from its polished holster. “Get this woman onto the stretcher! You and you!” His gun swung from Girland to Ginny. “Hurry!”
Girland pulled the stretcher into the room and pushed it close to the bed. As he did so, he removed the radio pill from under his thumbnail.
Ginny white faced, but quite steady, walked around the bed and stripped off the blanket and sheet. The sleeping woman was wearing a hospital nightgown. Girland was too occupied with the situation to admire her beauty. He took her under the armpits, began to lift her, purposely stumbled and half fell on her. In that brief moment as he recovered his balance, he forced the radio pill into the woman’s mouth. As he straightened he hoped she would swallow it.
“Watch what you are doing!” Smernoff snarled. “Hurry!”
With Ginny helping, Girland slid the woman’s sleeping body onto the stretcher. As they did so, their eyes met. Girland gave her a reassuring wink, but it didn’t seem to reassure her.
At this moment, Jo-Jo who had found an unlatched window and had explored all the rooms on the fifth landing, now discovered the nurse he had murdered had lied to him. Cursing, gun in hand, he ran down the stairs to the fourth floor.
Chapter Three
When Girland had left Dorey’s office, Dorey flicked down a switch on his intercom and said, “I’m ready now for Kerman.”
As he released the switch he leaned back in his chair and picked up another of the excellent sandwiches by his side. He ate it slowly, thinking this kind of situation was what he would like to be happening twenty-four hours of the day. The dull routine, the endless files, the official letters bored him, but when he had a free hand, money to spend, good agents and a problem that required shrewd planning, life really came alive.
A tap sounded on the door.
“Come on in,” he said and wiped his thin lips on his handkerchief.
Jack Kerman came in.
Dorey regarded this slightly built man as his most reliable outside agent. There was nothing spectacular about Kerman. Aged thirty-three, with alert humorous eyes and a crew cut, he made a respectable living running a garage in the Passy district. His partner, a fat cheerful man whose name was Jacques Cordey, had an idea that Kerman was an Agent for the C.I.A., but neither men ever discussed that possibility, and when Kerman went off periodically, Cordey carried on with the work of the garage and asked no questions. It was a convenient arrangement.
When Dorey was uneasy about the success of an operation, his mind turned automatically to Kerman. He had alerted him to come to the Embassy before Girland had arrived. Kerman had been waiting with his usual placid patience until he was sent for.
“Sit down, Jack,” Dorey said amiably. “Want a sandwich?”
Kerman came over to the big desk and lowered his slight frame into the lounging chair. He was wearing an old, well-worn sports coat that he had bought from Simpsons of Piccadilly when last he had been in London, and a pair of shabby, grey slacks. There was nothing showy about Kerman, but when you looked into the alert, rather ugly face and into the steady, dark eyes, you would reverse your opinion that he was just another rather unsuccessful man.
“Not for me, sir, thank you. I’ve had dinner,” he said and waited.
“We have Girland again,” Dorey said. “I didn’t want to use him but the situation is such I had no option.”
Kerman smiled.
“That means trouble, sir.”
“I know. I’ll put you in the picture.” Briefly, Dorey explained about Erica Olsen and the part he wanted Girland to play.
Kerman nodded his approval.
“It could work, sir. Yes... of course, Girland would be your only choice.”
“He’s downstairs in the car pool right now and he should be at the American hospital in half an hour. I want you to tail him, Jack. Don’t let him spot you. I wouldn’t want him to think I don’t trust him. It’s your job to help him if he runs into trouble.” Dorey slid a slip of paper across the desk. “This is a chit for a car. Get something fast. I’ll leave that to you. Girland has a radio pill to give to the woman. I hope he does give it to her. If he does, your job will be easy. Pick a car with a radar scanner. Keep in touch with me. We must not lose this woman. I have already warned Girland that the Soviet and Chinese will be after her. It is possible I have moved fast enough to beat them, but I could be kidding myself. You can call on as much help as you may need. Right now I am leaving this to you to handle on your own. O’Halloran’s men are too heavy-handed for this kind of job, but you may have to call them in. Don’t hesitate if you feel you have to. Girland has a 202 Mercedes, black, No. 888. Get over to the hospital as fast as you can.” Dorey slid a packet of one hundred francs across the desk. “This should hold you, Jack, but if you want more, let me know. You’ll follow him to Eze. Once there, providing you are certain he hasn’t been followed, you can safely leave him.” Dorey regarded Kerman. “You know what I like about you? You never ask for money. Girland never stops asking for it.”