Алистер Маклин - Prime Target

Sabrina read an extract of the autopsy report, which indicated both men had suffered trauma not usually associated with drowning cases.

‘Moving on from that matter for the moment,’ Sabrina said, ‘I can now tell you I’ve found a connection between Emily Selby and Erika Stramm.’

She explained how the women were related, and added that in recent times they appeared to have been in regular correspondence.

‘What’s known about Emily’s husband?’ Philpott said.

‘I dug through the press files and professional directories for information on both men.’ Sabrina took out another sheet. ‘Nothing exceptional on Desmond Selby. He was forty-three, an assistant professor of Eastern Studies at Cornell. He and Emily met in Baghdad when they went there on separate research projects. Selby was Jewish, but like his wife he had no known affiliations to Jewish organizations here or abroad. By all accounts, Desmond Selby was a fine academic and a model citizen. For what it’s worth, Emily believed he was killed because he just happened to be where her father was at the time the executioner or executioners showed up.’

‘The old man?’ Philpott said.

Sabrina found the notes. ‘He was born Johannes Georg Hofmannsthal Stramm,’ she said, ‘born in 1923 in Munich, educated there and in Berlin. In 1941, when he was eighteen, he was ousted by the Nazis, along with several others, from the college where he had been studying. He wasn’t allowed to work and so he tried several times, unsuccessfully, to leave Germany. He was caught in a round-up of Jews in 1942 and was transported to the concentration camp at Buchenwald. He changed identities with a dead inmate, Johannes Lustig, and by various means he managed to survive. When the camp was liberated he applied for permission to travel to the USA and was accepted. He eventually took American citizenship and distinguished himself as a scholar.

‘Johannes Lustig was a supporter of the Zionist cause and was present among the spectators when David Ben-Gurion announced the birth of the state of Israel in 1948. He had a doctorate in Hebraic Studies, another in pure philosophy, and he held a professorship of European History at Cornell; he wrote four books about the Russian pogroms and a number of pamphlets on the Holocaust.’

‘Was he any kind of agitator?’

‘I’ve no evidence of that,’ Sabrina said. ‘He wrote angry letters to the press from time to time, and one or two of his pamphlets came down hard on what he saw as fascist tendencies in certain aspects of US domestic policy. But that was it.’

Notes were made.

‘Your turn, Mike,’ Philpott said.

Mike gave them a summary of his break-in at the depository. ‘Emily placed high value on simple things,’ he said. ‘The strong-box was full of items with no commercial value. I have to say it was kind of touching.’

He passed copies of the notebook entry and the group photograph to Sabrina and C.W.

‘The address has been checked,’ Philpott said. ‘It’s in the Kreuzberg district of Berlin, a racially tense area with a fair bit of crime and sundry inner-city unpleasantness. The address is a high-security apartment, one of those places with no windows, metal-clad doors, alarms and a couple of surveillance cameras. It’s owned by Herschell and Grosz, a large firm of property renters and developers. They won’t say who the tenant is.’

‘Any bets it’s Erika Stramm?’ Whitlock said.

‘Well, she has no listed home address,’ Philpott said, ‘all we have is an e-mail location.’

More notes were taken, then Sabrina, Mike and C.W. sat back and looked at Philpott, who obviously had something important to say. Several times in the past few minutes he had centred his tie and shot his cuffs. It was a sign: substantial news was imminent.

‘These are details of two recent murders in Germany.’ Philpott handed out information sheets. ‘Karl Sonnemann, sixty-three, a university professor, was killed in Frankfurt. Stefan Fliegel, sixty-two, a businessman, died in Berlin. The names of both these men appear on the list Sabrina found in Emily Selby’s hotel room. So, whatever else that document might be, it’s a hit-list, and the killings have begun.’

‘Do we have a line on the killer or killers?’ Mike said.

‘In both cases the perpetrator was described as a young man, no older than twenty-five, approximately six feet two inches tall, fair hair, blue eyes…’

‘Finding him will be a cinch, then,’ Mike said. ‘A guy like that will really stand out in Germany.’

‘He may not be a German,’ Philpott said. ‘A witness who was with Professor Sonnemann said the young man spoke German with a peculiar accent. She couldn’t be any more specific about it.’

‘What’s being done to shield Andreas Wolff?’ Whitlock said. ‘I presume you are making his safety a priority?’

‘He has been given an armed guard,’ Philpott said, ‘and there is round-the-clock surveillance on his Tiergarten apartment.’

Sabrina asked if anything was being done to safeguard the others on the list.

‘Not at present,’ Philpott said. ‘The decision not to alert them may be seen as callous, but for the present we are anxious to know what connects these men, and our efforts in that direction might be harmed if we approached them.’

Sabrina said no more on the point. She wasn’t paid to argue.

‘We still have no depth in this picture,’ Philpott said. ‘I want you to go to Morocco, Sabrina. Find out about the man who killed Emily Selby, get hold of everything there is to know. Chances are he didn’t act on his own initiative, so if he was put up to it we want to know who did the putting up.’

‘Are we sure Morocco’s where he came from?’ Sabrina said. ‘Most recently, I mean?’

‘Mossad local intelligence in Rabat have checked out his movements and they’re sure he was resident in Tetuán. You’ll have a briefing docket before you leave and details of the approximate area of habitation will be in there, with a map.’

‘Fine.’

Philpott turned to Mike. ‘I want you to get inside that secure apartment in Berlin and find out what Erika Stramm is up to.’

‘Shouldn’t we maybe do this the other way around?’ Mike said. ‘Me go to Morocco, Sabrina take Germany.’

‘Are you displaying chivalrous concern?’ Philpott said.

‘Morocco can be very dicey,’ Mike said. ‘I’ve some experience there and–’

‘Thanks for your concern, Mike, but I think I’ll manage,’ Sabrina said coldly.

‘My decision to assign Sabrina to Morocco,’ Philpott said, ‘is based on the belief that, as a woman, she won’t be perceived as a threat. More fools them, I might add. By not encountering as much resistance as a man would, she will potentially be the most efficient.’

Mike shrugged.

‘Besides,’ Philpott went on, ‘she won’t be going alone. Lucy Dow will be there, in position, ready to act as cover, diversion, or guide.’

‘Why the two of them?’ Mike said.

‘Lucy is there anyway, keeping a weather eye on a Sendero Luminoso splinter group hiding out in the area. Lucy knows the territory and customs, she can help Sabrina find her way around. She may even come in handy for back-up.’ Philpott paused. ‘Do you have a problem with that, Mike?’

‘None at all,’ Mike snapped.

‘So.’ Philpott turned to Sabrina. ‘You will present yourself at the Briefing Suite at 17.30 hours today and they will provide what you need. In Morocco I want you to travel light, look like a typical tourist.’

Philpott stood, picked up his papers and tamped them on the desk. ‘That’s it. Time to disperse and perform good works. I’ll be waiting for you to report back. Remember, the clock is now running. You must take all necessary steps to evaluate the problem, contain it and neutralize it.’