Гарри Гаррисон - The QE2 Is Missing

He was about to lock the case when he hesitated. It had been many years since he had last been here, had opened any of the bags. He looked at his watch; there was still time. Carefully he removed the top bag from the briefcase, unknotted the cord, and poured the contents out into the palm of his hand.

Beautiful. First class, all of them. He turned his hand back and forth so the facets of the diamonds caught the light from the fluorescents overhead and sparkled with every color of the rainbow. Compact, costly, attractive. All of the things that wealth should be.

Wielgus never smiled; people made jokes about this, though, of course, not in his hearing. But he smiled now. These stones, they were something worth smiling at.

The smile vanished as quickly as it had come and he was businesslike again. Putting the gems back into the bag, tying it and restoring it to the briefcase, closing and locking this. Then pressing the button for the guard. It took only a few seconds before the door opened.

“Finished already, Senor Klimt? Yes, I remember, you were always an efficient gentleman. Last time you were in — let me see — five years ago, you came and went just as fast. You wouldn’t believe how long some people dawdle about in here. With others waiting, too.”

The guard picked up the box and left, unaware of Wielgus’s eyes burning into his back. The box was returned and locked into place to the satisfaction of them both. As they walked back to the entrance the guard was still talking; he had found that people liked to be chatted with. It made for better tips.

He was right, too. Wielgus passed over a hundred peso note and waved away the effusive thanks. He walked across the bank, nodded at the guard who opened the outer gate for him. Klaus had the door of the car opened and waiting and he climbed in with the briefcase.

“Around the corner and stop,” he ordered when Klaus had started the engine.

Klaus never asked questions. He turned at the first cross street and went on until he found a spot at the curb where both cars could pull in.

“Is Juan reliable?” Wielgus asked. “Have you worked with him?”

“Yes, sir. A good man. Not fast, but he doesn’t get rattled or nervous. Good backup.”

“All right then, he’ll help you with a job. Tell him there’ll be a bonus. For you, too. This must be done quickly. The guard back there in the bank, the one in the safe deposit room. Go back and take a look at him so you will recognize him. Then go with Juan in the Volkswagen, the other one can drive me back. The guard recognized me from my last visit, he even remembered when the visit was.”

“That wasn’t very wise of him.”

“It wasn’t. Fix him now, when he goes home for his siesta, so he won’t tell anyone else about my movements.”

“A wise precaution, sir. It will be taken care of.”

Klaus got out of the car and walked back to the Volks. He was hot in his black jacket but he never unbuttoned it, never took it off. He leaned in the window and spoke briefly to the driver.”

“Drive the Doctor back to Cuernavaca,” he ordered. “Juan and I will return in this car.” He waited until the Mercedes had pulled away before he explained to Juan. “We have some work to do. Extra money in it.”

“Good. I am at your orders.”

Juan put the car into the nearest garage and Klaus waited for him on the corner by the bank. He had made the make on the guard. It would be so easy. And a change from everyday events which, while not boring, could use a bit of livening up. This would be lively enough. He hummed as he thought about it. Nice to work again. Nice to be able to do something to help his employer. He would always be grateful to the man. Probably alive because of him. Recovering from a wound and ready to return to the eastern front. And probable death at the hands of the Russians who rarely took prisoners. Never made prisoners of corporals from the Death’s Head regiments. Corporal Klaus had little hope of survival. But the temporary assignment of guarding the important civilian had been extended and then niade permanent. It was a relationship that they both enjoyed.

There was only a short wait after Juan returned before the guard emerged from the bank. He passed the two men closely, unaware of the predatory eyes upon him.

“I'll make the move,” Klaus said. “You just hold him from the back.” Juan nodded in agreement.

The time came a few minutes later when the old man took a shortcut down a filthy alley between two streets. There was no one else in sight.

“Now,” Klaus said.

Juan ran down the alley as Klaus unbuttoned his coat. The grey scabbard hung down under his armpit to below his waist. The bayonet was long and sharp as a razor. A clumsy weapon to carry about, but one he was secure with. A faithful companion in the east. It slipped free easily as he stepped forward.

“What…. “ was all the old man said as he was seized from behind and spun about. That was all that he had time for.

Klaus slammed his large hand over the man’s mouth and drove his head back against Juan’s chest. With his other hand he brought the bayonet up in a hard, precise motion, placed exactly. To slide through clothes and skin, up across the man’s stomach, through his diaphragm, inside his rib cage and directly into his heart.

The guard heaved up once and was dead.

Juan tore the guard’s watch from his wrist, ripped his pocket away to get at his wallet. Klaus pulled the bayonet free and stopped to wipe the blood off on the old man’s clothing before they left. One more robbery with murder. It wouldn’t be investigated. There were five or six like this every day in the city. These things happen.

Once it was free of the traffic the Mercedes picked up speed. Dr. Joachim Wielgus hummed a bit of lieder as he bit the end off his cigar. Yes, the doctor had said only one a day after dinner, but today was something special. One little extra cigar could not do much harm.

“It’s been just like a honeymoon,” Frances said, touching up her nails with nail polish, then blowing on them. “Two weeks at sea in this floating hotel. Long days in the sunshine, glorious nights in bed. A real honeymoon. Too bad we’re not married.”

“We can do it today in Honolulu,” Hank said. He was threading a new tape through the heads in the recorder. “Hawaii is part of the States. We can go to a Justice of the Peace, get the knot tied while we wait.”

“I don’t know. Sounds more like getting your hair done than getting married. I think it would be far better to wait until we get back to London. I’m compromised already, so a few more weeks won’t make any difference.”

“Your choice, my love. There!”

Hank was getting more adept at the spying job. The reels turned and the new tape ran through. He snapped shut the front of the set, put it into position on the settee and plugged in the lead to the microphone. When the earphone jack was inserted it switched off the loudspeaker and he could listen with the volume turned up. Nothing. Music playing dimly in the background, something being banged down on a table. No voices. He switched on the voice-operated switch and put the earphones back into the case.

“Are the natives restless this morning?” Frances asked.

“Nothing happening at all. Maybe they’re all out on the deck admiring the view.”

“We should be there, too. All I can see from our exclusive and expensive verandah are the roofs of warehouses.”

“Why don’t you go on deck then? I have some things to do here first.”

“I’ll wait for you. I might run into our neighbors who give me the shivers. It’s a good thing they cut us dead because that’s easy enough to do in return. I’m sure if I had to talk to one of them that I would say something terribly insulting.”