Brian Freemantle - Charlie Muffin U.S.A.

Aware from the electronic eavesdropping of every detail of Chambine’s robbery, Pendlebury had devised a plan which covered and then nullified every stage of it and made the failure of Terrilli’s entrapment virtually impossible.

Pendlebury thought of it as a ripple effect, in reverse, so arranged that as Chambine’s men passed through a series of checkpoints, the bands would draw together behind them, finally creating around the Breakers and Terrilli’s mansion a noose from which it would be impossible to escape.

Because he knew the robbery was scheduled for Thursday, he sensibly had not bothered to utilise the vast force at his disposal, maintaining instead the necessary but reduced surveillance teams and resting the remainder until the moment they would be needed.

He had assumed that the thieves would make the journey from Disneyworld to Palm Beach by road during Thursday, but just in case arranged to have a helicopter available at Orlando, should they charter a small aircraft. The watchers at the Contemporary Resort would trigger the whole operation with their notification to the communications unit that the six men were on their way. Between Disneyworld and Palm Beach, Pendlebury proposed to establish twelve radio-controlled cars from which he was confident he would be able to maintain absolute but undetected observation. The immediate surveillance vehicles were to be staffed by agents from the Lantana and Lake Worth contingents and as they started to move, so Pendlebury had arranged for the units in Miami, Boynton Beach and Fort Pierce to close in on Palm Beach, concentrating his force at the spot where it was needed. By the time Chambine’s men crossed the Flagler Memorial Bridge, Pendlebury intended to have 150 men within a five-mile radius, awaiting instructions, with two helicopters in the air, guaranteeing aerial observation. The cutters based at Jupiter were to be activated the moment the men left Orlando, giving them sufficient time to move around and position themselves within sight and radio contact of the Breakers and the mansion.

He had reviewed the arrangements several times, asking Warburger and Bowler for constructive criticism and had decided, even before getting their unqualified approval, that he had evolved a perfect scheme.

A believer that attention to detail was the keynote to success, he was yet again examining every section of the plan when Heppert, who ironically heard the news on the same local radio station that alerted Giuseppe Terrilli just a mile away, knocked anxiously at Pendlebury’s door. Immediately he was admitted, he blurted out that the English insurers were withdrawing cover because they were unsure of the security arrangements.

‘Shit!’ said Pendlebury, with a vehemence that startled the Pinkerton’s man.

‘Yes,’ agreed Heppert, misunderstanding the other man’s outburst. ‘I think it’s most uncalled for, too.’

Concerned that he would be affected by any apportionment of blame, Heppert said, ‘I only meant the figures I gave to be rough estimates. I never supposed they would be taken literally.’

The bastard,’ said Pendlebury, driving his fist against his thigh in frustration. ‘The rotten, awkward bastard. It’s the first time I haven’t anticipated him.’

Heppert frowned both at the remark and the extent of Pendlebury’s annoyance.

‘I presume you’ll call head office,’ said Heppert, unwilling to take the responsibility. ‘We’ll have to get guidance.’

‘Yes… yes, of course,’ said Pendlebury, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him.

‘The exhibition organisers have asked for a conference,’ reported Heppert. ‘They’ve asked the Englishman to attend as well.’

‘Give me an hour,’ demanded Pendlebury, looking at his watch. ‘Say two o’clock.’

He was reaching for the telephone when it rang anyway and Warburger came immediately on the line.

‘What the hell’s happening?’ demanded the Director.

Pendlebury cupped his hand over the receiver, looking at Heppert. ‘Two o’clock,’ he repeated, dismissing the man.

Pendlebury remained silent until Heppert had closed the door, then said into the mouthpiece, ‘IIe did something I hadn’t expected. Staged some damn-fool test last night, then claimed security was lax. I presume he complained to London.’

‘I’ve checked,’ confirmed Warburger. ‘The announcement came from there. Can they remove cover just like that?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Pendlebury. ‘That’s not what is immediately concerning me. The organising committee are demanding a conference, so they’re obviously frightened. God knows what Terrilli’s reaction will be.’

‘He might abandon it, you mean?’

‘He could,’ said Pendlebury, as a fresh wave of exasperation engulfed him. ‘Will Cosgrove be able to hold out against any premature closure?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Warburger. ‘He’s already called me direct. He wants a private briefing from you personally.’

‘What shall I tell him?’

‘Everything.’

Pendlebury paused, surprised at the man’s reply. ‘Even the idea of getting Terrilli indicted for the Englishman’s death?’

‘He wants involvement. Let him have it.’

‘I’d rather not.’

‘It’s an order,’ snapped Warburger. ‘And give the rest of the organising committee any sort of assurance they need. Tell them we’ll put in more guards – anything. I’ll fix it with Pinkerton’s here.’

Pendlebury replaced the telephone and sat back, trying to calm himself and to think the complication through. That’s all it was, he tried to reassure himself; merely a complication. They were still more than in control of the situation, whatever Terrilli instructed his people to do. As he poured himself the first drink of the day, Pendlebury realised that his hand was shaking, rattling the bottle top against the glass edge. It was the effect of this morning’s news rather than the alcohol of the previous night, he knew. The telephone rang again fifteen minutes later, while he was rinsing his mouth of any trace of alcohol before his meeting with the exhibition organisers. He recognised the voice of the communications chief.

‘Terrilli’s made a call,’ reported the man. ‘About ten minutes ago. To Chambine at the hotel.’

‘What did he say?’ demanded Pendlebury urgently.

‘It was to arrange a meeting.’

‘Do we have it covered?’

The man paused, having anticipated the question. ‘It’s at the beach,’ he said unhappily. ‘There’s no way we could monitor it.’

‘Damn!’ said Pendlebury, the word hissing through his clenched teeth. ‘The son-of-a-bitch has fucked everything up.’

‘Terrilli?’ asked the communications man curiously.

‘No,’ said Pendlebury, irritated. ‘Forget it. Now listen. Get on to the Contemporary Resort. Tell those listening there I want to know every word that’s said in every room in which we’ve installed devices. We might stand a chance of picking up whatever they talked about there: Chambine is almost certain to make contact. Now get off the line; I’ve other calls to make.’

Pendlebury summoned Roger Gilbert to his room, outlining within minutes what Charlie had done.

‘Is it serious?’ demanded the man.

‘It is if Terrilli cancels everything. And that’s what he might be meeting Chambine to discuss.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Six of you on the beach in five minutes,’ said Pendlebury. ‘Stripped and apparently enjoying yourselves. You obviously won’t be able to get near enough to hear what’s going on, particularly if Chambine goes to Terrilli’s private beach. But I’m betting that Terrilli will come to the hotel area, where there are more people and therefore protection. As soon as it’s over, I want you all back here, giving me as full an account as it’s possible to assemble. Understood?’