Алистер Маклин - Red Alert

‘Young wouldn’t have known that,’ Sabrina replied. ‘To him Pisani was a legitimate target.’

‘If that’s the case then he could be intent on wiping out the entire committee,’ Paluzzi said. ‘That’s the last thing we need.’

‘I don’t understand your concern,’ Graham said to Paluzzi. ‘Young would be doing you a favour by wiping out this committee, as you call it. It would throw the Red Brigades into total chaos.’

‘God forbid. I know these committee members inside out. Bring in a load of new faces and all that painstaking work’s gone out of the window. I’d have to start the whole process again from scratch. We’d also lose our mole. And there’d be no way we could replace him. Not at that level.’

Graham stood up. He crossed to the door then swung round to face Paluzzi, his eyes blazing.

‘It’s the same old story, isn’t it? Better the devil you know! Instead of trying to smash the backbone of this committee you take the easy way out and leave them where they are because that way you can keep tabs on them and rap them on the knuckles when they step out of line. That makes you an accomplice, Fabio. You’re no better than they are.’

‘I can understand your bitterness, Mike–’

‘Can you really?’ Graham cut in with biting sarcasm. ‘Your family hasn’t been butchered by terrorists in the name of some cause the anarchistic bastards don’t even understand.’

‘Mike–’

‘Stay out of this, Sabrina,’ Graham snarled, without taking his eyes off Paluzzi.

‘You just can’t accept what you did in Libya, can you?’ Sabrina stood up and approached Graham. ‘And because of that you’ll find any excuse to attack others for what you regard as your own mistakes.’

‘Sit down, Sabrina,’ Graham whispered in a threatening tone.

‘No, not this time. This needs to be said. It’s long overdue.’ She held his withering stare.

‘You knew the risks when you joined Delta. So did Carrie. That’s why she asked you to get a desk job. You refused because you knew you wouldn’t last five minutes closed up in some office. You’re a field operative. One of the best. It’s where you belong. She knew that too. She may have never said it but deep down inside she knew you were right. Why else do you think she stood by you? And that’s what made your decision in Libya the right one. It’s what she would have wanted you to do. Why don’t you let yourself see that, Mike? Why?’

Graham’s fists were clenched tightly at his sides. She thought for a moment that he was going to hit her. Then he spun round and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Kolchinsky shook his head despairingly, then rubbed his hands over his face.

‘Well done, Sabrina. You know exactly what he’s like when he gets into one of his moods. That’s all we need at a time like this.’

‘It had to be said, Sergei,’ Sabrina replied.

‘Don’t you think your timing could have been a little better? We’ve got thirty-six hours left before the deadline. This was supposed to be a briefing.’ Kolchinsky banged his fist angrily on the arm of the chair. ‘Next time you want to stir up his memories, try to be a bit more subtle about it. You, of all people, should know how touchy he is about Carrie and little Mikey.’

‘Precisely,’ she shot back. ‘Whenever their names are mentioned everyone clears their throats and someone quickly changes the subject. What good can that do him? It can only make him feel even more guilty than he already feels. The only way to help him is to make him confront the guilt that’s eating away inside him.’

Kolchinsky sighed deeply, then gestured to the telephone.

‘Just order some coffee, will you?’

She sat on the bed and picked up the receiver. ‘Fabio?’

‘Coffee would be good, thank you. And something to eat, if possible. I’m famished.’

She ordered three coffees and some sandwiches from room service, then hung up and turned back to Kolchinsky.

‘You know I’m right, Sergei.’

‘Let’s drop the subject, shall we?’

There was a knock at the door. Sabrina answered it. She had never seen the man before. He asked to speak to Paluzzi. The two men spoke in the doorway for several minutes and when Paluzzi returned to his chair he was carrying a folder.

‘What was all that about?’ Kolchinsky asked.

‘It was one of the men from HQ,’ Paluzzi replied, sitting down and opening the file. ‘I’ve had several teams working on the case from different angles. These are their reports.’

‘Have they come up with anything?’ Sabrina asked, as he sorted through the sheets of paper.

‘The warder at the prison was shown a picture of a Gazelle similar to the one Tommaso Francia used on Corfu. He’s positive that it’s the same make of helicopter used in the Zocchi murder.’

‘This case gets more baffling by the minute,’ Kolchinsky said with a weary sigh. ‘Zocchi and Karos hire the Francia brothers. Then they’re killed by them. It doesn’t make sense.’

‘Perhaps there’s a third party involved,’ Sabrina ventured.

Paluzzi shook his head. ‘I can’t see it. I’m sure Karos would have told us if there were.’

‘But he was killed before you had a chance to question him fully,’ Sabrina said.

‘True, but he was quick to finger Zocchi. Why not finger the third party as well, if one was involved?’

‘Perhaps too quick?’ Kolchinsky mused thoughtfully.

Sabrina looked at Kolchinsky. ‘You think Karos fingered Zocchi deliberately to throw us off the scent of his real partner? It would certainly account for the murders.’

‘Fabio, what do you think?’

Paluzzi shook his head.

‘Why?’ Sabrina asked.

‘It all comes back to Ubrino. He was totally dependent on Zocchi. He never did anything without first consulting him. No, Zocchi had to be involved somewhere along the line.’

‘What else did your men come up with?’ Kolchinsky asked, breaking the sudden silence.

‘It seems Vittore Dragotti, the sales manager at Neo-Chem Industries, was in serious financial difficulty at the time of his death. That would explain why he was acting as the middleman between Karos and Wiseman.’

‘And still no sign of the money Karos paid to Wiseman ?’ Kolchinsky asked.

‘His bank accounts have been turned inside out. Both here and in America. Nothing. It’s probably stuck away in some numbered Swiss account.’

There was another knock at the door. Sabrina answered it again, this time admitting the waiter with the tray, which he deposited on the table between Kolchinsky and Paluzzi.

Sabrina poured out three cups of coffee, added a dash of milk to her own, then retreated to the bed.

‘Aren’t you eating?’ Paluzzi asked her.

‘I ate earlier. And anyway, it’s white bread. I never touch it.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I have enough trouble as it is keeping in shape.’

‘There I have to disagree,’ Paluzzi said gallantly.

‘Have you finished translating those dossiers on Boudien and the Francia brothers?’ Kolchinsky interrupted, selecting a sandwich from the pile on the plate.

She nodded and pulled the dossiers out from the bedside cabinet. She returned them to Paluzzi and handed a photocopy of her translation to Kolchinsky.

‘I’ll give Mike his when I see him again.’

‘You’ll give it to him tonight. He has to be kept up to date.’

‘Thanks,’ she replied, screwing up her face.

‘It’s your fault he stormed out in the first place. And get your act together. Both of you. There’s no room for personal squabbles at a time like this. We have to pull together as a team. If either of you can’t accept that, I’ll have you replaced.’

She nodded sombrely. ‘I’ll tell him.’