Donald Hamilton - The Intriguers

"Shut up!" After a moment, my specimen said sharply; "Talking about target practice, you didn't do so well yourself back there at Cutlass Key this morning. Sure, you managed to shoot a lot of good agents, but you didn't get the man you'd come all that way to-"

"Man?" I said, thinking fast. "Who says I was there after a man? I came for her." 1 jerked my head towards Martha. "And I got her, didn't I? I was told she'd guide us out of there. It's not my fault the fool bitch doesn't know her right hand from her left. There was not a damn thing wrong with my part of the job, not a thing!"

I was aware of Martha restraining herself from casting a startled-maybe even reproachful-glance in my direction; but it was the only way to handle it. I could never convince them, any more than she'd been able to, that she'd been perfectly honest and idealistic when she led them to her father's supposed hideout on Cutlass Key. It was better to use what they already believed, and build on that.

My guard said sharply, "Are you trying to tell us-"

"Why the hell should I want to hurt your precious Mr. Leonard, if that's who you mean?" I asked.

The man shook his head. "That won't wash, Helm! Just now in your cabin, when she was trying to bring you around, your female accomplice said in so many words that you'd been planning to shoot-"

"Eavesdropping?" I said. "Tsk. Tsk. Tell me, in your outfit do you always tell every junior member of every operational team everything about the team's mission. It must be nice to have so much faith. The fact is, Miss Borden was never informed of the exact purpose of her assignment. Maybe she thought she was setting somebody up for a touch. Maybe it made her feel better, more important, to believe she was part of a desperate assassination squad, instead of just getting a man out of the way for a few hours. If she'd known that, she might have started asking herself-maybe even aloud-why this particular man had to be distracted at this particular time; and that's a question we didn't want being asked by anybody, until our business was all taken care of."

"Then what were you doing up that tree with that big rifle?"

I glanced sourly at the girl beside me, and grimaced. "Under normal circumstances," I said, "using a trained female agent, we'd have let her make her own way clear, or not, however it worked out. Our operatives are supposed to be able to take care of themselves. If they can't, well, we're sorry about that. But in this case we had to use a girl who wasn't an agent, simply because she was the best bait available, the person most likely to be able to sell your M~. Leonard a bill of goods. But she'd had no training, and she happened to be the boss's daughter. Therefore, I was instructed to take whatever steps necessary to make sure she got out okay." I shrugged. "Nepotism, I guess you'd call it. I'm not really in the bodyguard business, but, hell, orders are orders. And we'd have made it, too, if she hadn't got all loused up on port and starboard. Christ, what a time to get nautical. If she'd just stuck to right and left, we'd be home free!"

"But if you didn't want to kill Mr. Leonard-" This was Martha's escort, frowning thoughtfully. "If you weren't really setting him up' for murder, why go to all the trouble-"

"He's here, isn't he?" I said shortly. "He isn't up north tending to business like he should, is he? He's chasing mirages through a lousy Florida swamp, or at least he was all last night. And right now he's wasting time shuffling papers up forward instead of using his brains and trying to find out why somebody wanted him out of circulation early on the morning of June fifteenth. It must be hell working for a stupid man. I feel for you boys, I really do. The gent I take my orders from may not be so photogenic, but at least he's got something between the ears besides a wad of crumpled newspaper clippings telling him what a wonderful guy he..

I'd figured Leonard had sent us back here so he could sneak up and listen to us, and I was right. Now he appeared in the cabin entrance, looking stern and accusing.

"Well!" he snapped. "I hope you gentlemen are having a good time comparing employers."

Our two guards had jumped to their feet. The nearest one, Martha's man, protested quickly, "Sir, we thought it best to let him talk. He claims he wasn't really assigned to murder you, as we assumed."

"I heard what he claims." Leonard laughed scornfully. "What else could he say, having failed to carry out his mission? I've met this beanpole agent before. All his mistakes are always on purpose, to hear him tell it." He looked at me. "You'll have to conic up with a better story than that, Helm. I think you're talking just to keep yourself alive!"

He was perfectly right, but it wasn't really an inspired guess. What else would I be doing under the circumstances? Of course, I was also talking to throw him off guard so I could do the job I'd been sent here for.

I shrugged in a resigned sort of way. "Suit yourself, Mr. Leonard. I'm a hell of a liar. If fact doesn't suit you, I can cook up some real fancy fiction."

He hesitated. Then he said carelessly, "Oh, no let's not strain your imagination any further. Let's stick with your current fairy tale, at least for the present. But let's make it slightly more plausible. Give us some motivation, Helm. Tell us just why you're supposed to have gone to a great deal of trouble-you, and your murderous employer, and all his lackeys and accomplices, not to mention that fine little actress, his daughter-to set an elaborate trap for me, if all the time you were intending to magnanimously spare my life?"

"I told you," I said, mixing a little judicious falsehood with a lot of truth, or what I guessed to be the truth. "Anyway, I told these characters. It wasn't a trap. For various reasons it was essential to get you out of Washington for a day or two, Mr. Leonard; out of Washington and out of easy contact with your key people. My chief knew, of course, that when he went underground you'd keep a sharp eye on his daughter, hoping she'd lead you to him. He simply had her take you on a wild goose chase into darkest Florida, leaving him to carry on undisturbed up north." Leonard tried to interrupt, but I went on without pausing. "Why should we shoot you, Leonard? You're through, but even a discredited Chief of Intelligence can cause a lot of awkward questions if he's found with a bullet hole in him. I think my chief will be willing to settle for your resignation and retirement from public life-that is, of course, if you turn Miss Borden and me loose unharmed."

They were all grinning. As a comic, I was a big success. "My, that's mighty big of Arthur Borden," Leonard said playfully. "You're sure that's all he wants, my resignation and retirement? Oh, and the two of you unharmed, of Course."

I said blandly, "Well, I haven't had a chance to consult him about the details, sir, but I feel he intends to be generous. Of course, you'll never hold another government position as long as you live, but at least you will live." I congratulated myself on getting the lie out with some conviction. I went on, "It's your last chance, Mr. Leonard, assuming that I'm right and he's willing to give it to you. We're getting kind of fed up with you. This is the second time you've inconvenienced us. Most people don't manage it more than once." I pulled my wrists around. "So if you'll just cut us loose now, and give us back our boat-" Leonard nodded slightly. My guard lashed out with his pet Smith amp; Wesson, catching me alongside the head and knocking me against the end of the settee. It showed how much he really knew about revolvers, using one as a club. Half dazed, I felt the blood running down my cheek from a nick in the scalp. Leonard stepped forward to stand over me.

"The trouble with you, Helm," he said coldly, "the big trouble with you is that you've been allowed to get away with your arrogant bluffs so often you think they'll work on anybody. I hate to disillusion you, my man, but you're not pulling it off this time… What is it, Bostrom?"