Бретт Холлидей - Count Backwards to Zero

“What level was Dessau on?”

“He’s rather small time. If he ever did this sort of work before, it didn’t pay much. We assumed — I shouldn’t say we, because I hadn’t been brought in on it then — my people assumed that what was at issue was information, first about the British atomic capability, then later about the American. Quentin, of course, is cleared to visit any American facility, even the most secret. Then we learned that Diamond would be traveling to America with him on the same boat. At that point, that was all we knew. Sam was in France and I was free. I was sent along. The assignment was to strike up a friendship with Quentin and see if I could find out what was happening.”

“With how many others?”

“I was alone. That’s why I needed your help so badly. When Quentin—”

Shayne interrupted. “Not that I have any reason to believe Diamond, but he told me you were having such a bad influence on Little that they decided to put you over the side. A routine cloak-and-dagger murder.”

Then a surprising thing happened. Anne blushed. She had drawn the sheet to her waist, but a definite blush began spreading over the entire visible part of her body. She pulled the sheet to her chin, concealing as much of it as she could.

“My God, it was terrible,” she said in a small voice. “I’ve never done anything like that, but only one of us was going to reach land, and as you see, here I am. Mike,” she said, turning toward him earnestly, “we’re at war. You realize that. That man was as much an enemy soldier as if he’d been wearing Egyptian uniform. I had to do it. I couldn’t stop to wonder whether or not I could. But it was awful.” She put her hand to her face. “And that’s my quota, for a full lifetime. He was as heavy as lead.”

“Nobody helped?”

“Who else was there? Quentin, of course. He was drunk. I thought about you — but no, clearly no. So that left me, and I did it. A grisly little man. He needed a shave.”

“They’ll give you a medal,” Shayne said without sympathy.

“They won’t know about it! I don’t intend to tell them. Somebody might order me to do the same thing again.”

“Did it occur to you at any point that Little might be lying?”

“Mike, I didn’t really believe it till that little man tried to kill me. I phoned Sam from Bermuda, and naturally he was excited. For someone in his business to get hold of that kind of bomb would be a tremendous coup. A figure of ten million dollars has been mentioned. I didn’t want to involve my organization directly, in case anything went wrong. Sam flew over and hired the necessary people. We didn’t want a gun battle on the streets of Miami, but we would have done it that way if we had had to. And then you walked aboard, my dear Mike, looking as though you’d eat the first person who asked you a simple question.” She kissed his shoulder. “One thing I’ve worried about. What did Quentin do when they let him through Customs without searching his car?”

“Dessau convinced him it was deliberate, so they could find out who else was in on the plot, and round up everybody at the same time. Little’s the one person we don’t need to talk about. He’s dead.”

She took a long breath and her eyes closed and opened. “The damn fool. I knew he hadn’t really changed his mind about dying. How did he do it?”

“I didn’t say he did it himself. He was found knifed in an abandoned building.”

She drew back from him slightly. “I see. That’s the reason for this. You think we did it.”

“I know Diamond didn’t, because of the way it happened. You and Geller wouldn’t want to leave any loose ends. Quentin Little, alive, would be a very loose end. He couldn’t just report for work next Monday and forget about it. Sooner or later somebody in England would tally up their plutonium and find that seventeen pounds were missing. Your name would be mentioned. Now don’t get excited. I’m just checking out a possibility. You’ve already told me about another killing of exactly the same kind.”

“I had no choice about that one!” She gave him an unfriendly look. “I’m beginning to understand. First sex. Then conversation, in the course of which I make an admission, which gives you something to use against me.”

Shayne said gently, “You’re a professional, Lieutenant. So am I, and right now we’re both working. You told me about the guy on the boat so I’d think you trusted me. Little’s dead, but he’s still my client, and I want to know who killed him. Diamond thinks I did. That’s been helpful. He’s sure that if I get my hands on that gas tank I’ll have to turn it over to him. You know that won’t happen.”

“What will?”

“Anne, what would any patriotic American do with an atom bomb if he happened to find one in the street? I’ll turn it in and get my picture in the paper.”

“I had a feeling you might sell it to us.”

“If I’d sell it to you, I’d sell it to Diamond if he could come up with more money in a hurry. He raised eighteen thousand tonight without blinking.”

“Mike, are you saying you don’t know where it is?”

Shayne gave her a bleak look without replying, and reached for the cognac bottle.

The phone gave a warning tinkle. It was at Anne’s side of the bed. He rolled quickly and reached past her to get it. He picked it up with both hands, one hand covering the mouthpiece.

He heard Cecily Little’s voice.

“Love, it’s fabulous! Money, money, money. I finally got to him. He practically creamed on the phone. You’re all right there?”

A male voice answered with an assenting murmur.

The girl went on, “What do we ask them for then, a hundred thousand? He’s good for more, but do we want to stand around twiddling thumbs while he raises it? Take it and fade, chum. That’s the policy. Get too greedy and you get caught. Twenty minutes, half an hour at the outside. Have everything ready. Bye-bye.”

Hearing her hang up, Shayne threw the phone back and snapped, “Get dressed.”

She scrambled away and felt for her clothes. “I didn’t hear much of that. Who was it?”

Shayne drained his cognac. “Little’s daughter. Did he tell you about her?”

“He talked about her all the time! Cecily?”

“That’s the name she gave me. Did you know she was meeting him?”

Her fingers, working on the buttons of her blouse, didn’t pause.

“You caught him in one of his clear moments. Most of the time he rambled and mumbled. He was worrying about how the cars would be handled, would it be in an enclosed building or out in the open where everybody could see? I remember he said, ‘I don’t want Cecily—’”

She thrust her feet into shoes. “What else? She was more on his mind than his son, certainly than his wife. How mature she was for her age, how much she’d appreciate the insurance money, how excited she was by his new job—”

“He never said in so many words that she was going to be here to meet him?”

“If he did, it didn’t make any impression. His conversation was out of Finnegan’s Wake most of the time.”

Shayne, having dressed quickly, was waiting. She snatched up her bag and stuffed her stockings inside it. “Mike, we still haven’t come to terms.”

“We’ll have to talk about it in the car. Relax. Walk slowly.”

He didn’t open the door for her until she forced a smile. “All right, I’m relaxed. But confused.”

He left the key in the door. Getting into the Buick without haste, he waited till she was beside him, then backed out of the slot and returned to the street. At the Shell station on the corner, he backed behind two parked cars and turned off the lights.

Taking the bag out of her lap, he examined her pistol. It was a short-barreled Smith and Wesson .38, fully loaded. He replaced it without comment.