James Munro - The Innocent Bystanders

Loomis downed a massive jolt of local brandy, and wrapped on the counter for another.

"We got a bloke in Athens already," he said.

"I'll need him too," said Craig, and began to explain. When he'd finished, Loomis thought for a moment, then said, "It might work, cock. If you're as good as you think you are. But are you sure two men's enough? You don't want any help after that?"

"Benson's all I need," said Craig.

"At least she's on your side," said Loomis. Craig turned to him, wearily going through the motions of calm, hand steady as he lifted his glass, knowing he didn't fool Loomis for a second.

"What the hell does that mean?" he asked.

"She helped you get away, and we both know it. That day they had you and the Loman person prisoner in the barn, she measured you against Royce and opted for you. Why?"

"Royce tortured Miriam," said Craig.

"You're saying Benson's squeamish?"

"I'm saying she thinks ahead. Royce enjoyed his work —and it showed. And Benson saw it was a weakness. Look, Loomis—Benson talks like a deb and acts like an idiot with a daddy in the peerage, but she's as shrewd as you are. So she let me get away. It was her way of making a deal."

"And very nice too," said Loomis. "Except I'm the one who pays the bill. I must have a word with her about that. Royce too." He sighed. "Pity about that. He was damn good at the school. Think I should send him to a psychiatrist?"

"You could try," said Craig. "Too bad Asimov missed him, isn't it?"

"Tut tut," said Loomis. "The things you say."

"Like a couple of weeks ago. I said, 'You can hardly just let me go, can you?' And you said, 'No. I can hardly do that.'"

Loomis said, "One of these fine days I'll drop dead of overeating, and a nice little feller in a bowler hat and pinstriped underwear'll come and see you and offer you my job. What'll you do then, son?"

"Refuse."

"That may not be easy."

"I can always shoot myself," said Craig.

The flight call came then, and they went out to the aircraft. For once Loomis had been generous, and they traveled first class. Craig sat beside Kaplan, and they made the journey in silence. Joanna and Miriam didn't talk much either.

CHAPTER 14

They had four rooms in a hotel in Constitution Square. It was a pleasant hotel, big, shady, cool, with a fifty-year-old elegance that was already as valuable as an antique. The hotel was full of Americans just off to Delphi, Germans just back from Crete, Italians making a film, and Swedes absorbing sun and culture in such quantities that only the bar could save their sanity and their skins. Craig watched them as he waited for the lift. There were too many of them. Kaplan shouldn't stay here. And yet in America it could only be worse. When the lift doors opened, Craig watched approvingly as Joanna pushed Kaplan in ahead of her, her tall body covering him. Then Miriam went, and Craig last, his right hand inside his coat, ready, waiting.

The rooms were on the fifth floor, and the clang of contemporary Athens was muted below them. Athenians have never been an inhibited people: noise as an art form they find as convenient as any other, and cheap to practice. Craig sent Kaplan to his room, locked him in, and turned to the others.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"I want to go out," said Miriam. "I'm sick of being cooped up."

"All right," said Craig. "I'll go with you."

"If you want to," she said. "Wouldn't you sooner take a rest?"

"I would. Yes," Craig said. "I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"Oh, I'll be just fine," she said. "All I want to do is be a tourist for a while. Go to the Acropolis, maybe."

Joanna Benson opened her mouth, saw the look in Craig's eye and shut it again.

"Off you go, then," said Craig. "But don't be late. Pm waiting for a cancelation on a flight. If we eet it, we leave at dawn."

Before she left, Miriam kissed him. Then the door closed and Joanna Benson said, ''Darling-, I know she sleeps with you and all that, but aren't you being a teeny bit self-indulgent?"

"No," said Craig. "She'll be followed. I set it up with Loomis before I left."

The tall girl sighed her relief. "Do you think there's much danger in Athens?"

"Some," said Craig. "The CIA made a deal with Loomis —information for Kaplan. Then they subcontracted to Force Three. If Force Three picks up Kaplan here, Loomis doesn't get his information and I don't get my money."

"So you let her take a walk," said Joanna.

"I like to know who the opposition is," said Craig.

It was pleasant to be out alone, to walk across the square, to feel the press of an anonymous crowd about you. That reminded her of New York, and the thought made her smile. She had always hated the crowds in New York. She crossed the street to a cafe in the middle of the square, and Maskouri, who was following her, hoped she would sit down and drink coffee. It was much too hot to walk very far. She chose a table in the shady part, and Maskouri was relieved. Too many Americans liked to sit in the sun. He found a table nearby and ordered beer, sipped first at the glass of cold water that came with it. The Loman girl ordered a large, and, to Maskouri's eyes, disgusting ice cream, and spooned it up with enthusiasm. Then suddenly she hesitated. A tall American was approaching her. He was carrying a transistor radio, and it was playing a tune Maskouri recognized vaguely, and somehow associated with a sad-faced little man who played the piano. The American looked down at the girl, then said:

"Why, Miriam Loman! Well, for heaven's sakes. I was talking to Marcus just two days ago."

The girl smiled at him, and said "Hello," and asked him to sit down. Maskouri doubted that she had seen the tall American before, and this might be important. And once he'd sat down, he wasn't talking loud enough for Maskouri to hear. He wondered whether he should report back or not, when the American rose, took the girl's hand and said, "Great to see you, Miriam. Just great. Be sure to give my love to Marcus when you see him."

"Oh, I certainly will," said Miriam.

The tall American went off, and Miriam paid her bill, changing dollars with the waiter, then walked to the taxi rank. Maskouri got up to follow, and was promptly knocked flat by a couple of Americans, who apologized profusely for not looking where they were going. They picked him up and the grip they had on him seemed friendly enough, but Maskouri was sensible. He knew enough not to struggle. When the taxi had gone, one of the Americans said, "Sorry, feller," and offered him a cigar. Maskouri, being Athenian, was a philosopher. He accepted it.

"She's taking her time," Joanna Benson said.

"So's the man Loomis sent to Athens," said Craig. He looked at his watch. "He should have rung in an hour ago. I think we'd better make arrangements."

"Such as?"

"They'll come for Kaplan—alive. And to make sure of that, they'll immobilize us first."

"Immobilize? Do you by any chance think they'll kill us?"

"Not if they can avoid it," said Craig. "But the bloke Maskouri saw talking to her will do it if he has to. He'd prefer to use knockout drops or a bang on the head."

"Neither's terribly pleasant."

Craig grinned. "Neither's going to happen," he said. "Listen."

He began to talk; and first Joanna smiled, then laughed aloud.

"But darling, it's positively kinky," she said. "Get the silencer."

She produced it from her handbag and Craig screwed it on to the end of the Smith and Wesson, then broke the gun, looked into the magazine. Three shots left. But the silencer wouldn't last more than three shots anyway. After that he would have to fall back on the Webley, and an utter lack of privacy.

"You'd really use that thing on our allies?" the girl asked.