Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

Now she said, "When you're ready I want you to put the gloves on and take out the report you'll find in that envelope. It's about fifteen pages long, and I don't want any fingerprints on it. Not yet."

The document was in Spanish, but she already knew that he spoke four languages, including Arabic, with fair fluency and had a useful smattering of two more. With only an orphanage education he was remarkably knowledgeable in a wide variety of fields. "I seem to pick things up fast," he had said almost apologetically, "and they stick. I don't forget anything."

She knew this was true. In the middle of a largescale Network battle with the Saafi mob she had heard him deliver an entertainingly appropriate quote from the Psalms, giving chapter and verse. The insouciance of it had inspired confidence at a critical moment. Later she learned from Danny Chavasse that in his youth Willie Garvin had spent several months in a Calcutta gaol with only a psalter to read. He knew the Psalms by heart, and could produce a quotation for every occasion. The humour of his choice was much appreciated by his peers in The Network.

Now he finished his coffee without haste, then put on the gloves and took the stapled sheaf of paper from the envelope. Modesty said, "Take your time. I'm going to phone Garcia."

He rose with her, waited till she had left the room, then sat down and began to read. Twenty minutes passed before she returned, and he was standing by the French windows, looking out over the moonlit gardens. The envelope lay on the table. She gestured for him to take one of the two armchairs that stood on either side of the windows, and seated herself facing him in the other chair.

"I've decided," she said, "that I can't tempt Bellman into trying to kill me. If he did try I could react and put him down, but I've been through that scenario before and he just runs. So now I'm hoping to get him put away officially for a long stretch. It's too good for a mass murderer like Bellman, who specialises in getting children hooked, but it'll have to do." She paused, and when he made no comment she went on, "I was waiting for you to say that someone else will take his place."

Willie shrugged. "It doesn't need saying, Princess. You know it, I know it, but I'm all for putting Bellman away so I'm not coming up with arguments against it."

"Good. Well, let's suppose you're an area chief of police in the Lima Department, where Bellman now lives. You're no doubt on the take from various racketeers, including him, so you won't put him away for any ordinary criminal offence. But you're under a strict military government, so what would you think if you read that document?"

Willie said, "It's a lovely job. I'd think Bellman was the key man in a powerful underground movement dedicated to overthrowing the government in a lightning coup. I'd see a realistic scenario with a network of thirty odd cells funded by Bellman. If I was chief of police there I'd run to the military boss of the area fast as I could go, and I'd reckon on Bellman being arrested within an hour of the military seeing that document. If he's lucky he'll end up in a labour squad."

She said, "No questions?"

"Well, I take it the paper's of local manufacture and you've got the typewriter. You'll be aiming to plant them both on Bellman with 'is prints on 'em. I don't know 'ow, but you must've 'ad someone out there to do a close recce of the setup for you."

She nodded. "Danny Chavasse has been working on one of the maids. You'll like his report, it's a masterpiece of detail." Willie grinned. Danny Chavasse was a genius with women and had been away for the past six weeks. Deservedly he ranked high in The Network, and he had been a good friend to Willie.

Modesty said, "I plan to leave next week, so we'll spend quite a bit of time going over Danny's report and working out our options. Are you clear for that?"

"Yes, Princess. You spoke about maids just now. Do they live in?"

She looked at him with approval. "Right. We don't scare women if we can help it, but in fact there's no livein female staff. However, there is a female, a girl about nineteen called Sandra. She's been with Bellman for years now, but according to Danny she's not his mistress. The maids assume she's his daughter, so maybe she is, except there's no record of his ever having been married."

Willie said, "What do we do about 'er?"

"We'll just try to leave her out of any activity, but whatever her status she's connected to Bellman, so if she gets a fright, tough. We won't harm her, but we can't pussyfoot around." Modesty got to her feet. "Time you went home, Willie. Collect a copy of Danny's report from my office first thing in the morning, start thinking, and I'd like you to be here tomorrow evening, same time."

"Sure, Princess." He had risen with her. "One thing. You wouldn't use Network people but you put Danny Chavasse in."

For a second time she almost smiled. "Danny was never at risk, never even in the house. He's a bedroom warrior, and there's nobody can match him in that. I would never have put in a combat man, well, not till you twisted my arm this evening."

"I was worried," Willie said gently. "Really worried." He stood looking at her uncertainly for a moment, then, "Thanks very much for 'aving me to dinner. It's been great."

She inclined her head in acknowledgement, then moved with him to the hall and the front door.

"Goodnight, Willie."

"'Night, Princess. Thanks again." She watched till he had moved out of sight on the way to his car, then closed the door and stood holding her elbows, gazing absently across the hall. Moulay, passing through to the diningroom, glanced at her but did not speak. He knew she might stand lost in thought for ten minutes or more.

She was still there and he was unloading a second tray of crockery and glasses in the kitchen when she roused from her reverie at last. "And thank you, Willie Garvin," she murmured thoughtfully.

The house stood four miles from the centre of Lima. It had been built only a hundred years ago but was in Spanish Colonial style with large grounds and a high perimeter wall pierced only by heavy wroughtiron gates opening on to a drive. A strong chain secured the gates. At three in the morning security lights on the walls would normally have reacted to any movement, but Willie Garvin had shorted out the circuit activating the sensors. Now, with rope and grapnel, he and Modesty were on the balcony that ran round three sides of the house. Both were in black combat rig, wearing a small backpack and skimask. Neither had spoken since coming over the wall. They knew the layout of the house and grounds, knew the security system and the guard arrangements, knew that Bellman and the girl who might be his daughter were in the house. They also knew that situations could change and that in spite of careful preparation there could always be unforeseen problems.

One had already arisen. It was routine for a man to patrol the grounds and another to patrol the balcony. Tonight, for whatever reason, both men were on the long balcony at this time, and one had turned a corner just as Modesty was climbing over the balustrade in the belief that a single guard was at the far corner as she did so. Because she had abnormal speed of reaction she had reached him before he could cry out or draw his gun, dropping him with a strike from the kongo, the small mushroomshaped piece of hardwood gripped in her fist, a weapon Willie had made for her that was devastatingly effective used against nervecentres.

She was giving the man a shot of barbiturate that would keep him asleep for an hour as Willie came up the rope to join her. Together they moved to the corner where the balcony turned and peered warily round. The second guard was twenty paces away, leaning on the long balustrade, smoking. Willie touched Modesty's shoulder and gestured to something he held, something dark and limp hanging from cords or thongs. He stepped back and began to twirl it round his head very fast, then stepped out from the shelter of the wall. The limp object seemed to double in size with a thong flying free. Willie nodded to her, and she moved out to see the guard lying unconscious on the balcony floor.