Touchfeather

by Jimmy Sangster

  ‘We are dealing with an extremely important national of a friendly nation, residing in that country. If he is in fact guilty of any of the things you seem to think he is, it’s the Americans who will have to take action. And they will not act without proof.’

  ’They’re not fools.’

  ‘No, they’re not. But they’re politically hag-ridden. Their civil service is tied to the current administration to a large degree. There is very little of the autonomy we enjoy over here. In a matter such as this, everything would have to be explained in detail and justified with documented proof. Only then would they act.’

  ‘I suppose there’s no chance that you could send one of your own people over there. Make it look like an accident?’

  He looked horrified. ‘Absolutely not, Miss Touchfeather. The repercussions could be astronomical. Anyway,’ he added, getting closer to the core of his reasoning, ‘from what I have heard of the man, Gerastan would be a very difficult man to, er...eradicate. No, proof of complicity is what is required.’

  ‘I’ll get it, sir,’ I said. And, come hell or high water, I would, too. First Bill and then Mary. I could hardly wait. But Mr. Blaser is a bright man when it suits him.

  ‘You’re not letting emotion get the better of your judgment again, are you, Miss Touchfeather?’

  ‘Perhaps I am, sir, but don’t worry. It won’t affect my work.’

  ‘Don’t prejudge things, Miss Touchfeather. Approach everything with a completely open mind. Make your decisions on the facts as they are presented to you. Don’t try to bend them to fit your preconceived ideas.’ That was page-one stuff from the training manual, but he was justified in mentioning it. I’d already got Roger Gerastan hung, drawn and quartered.

  ‘Have you any idea how you would start work on this—just assuming I assigned you to it?’

  ‘I have an invitation to visit Mr. Gerastan at his home,’ I said a little smugly.

  ‘You have!’ He was genuinely surprised. ‘How did you manage to arrange that?’

  ‘I didn’t. It just came to me out of the blue.’

  ’If your suspicions are correct, you’ll be entering the lion’s den as it were.’

  ‘Daniel did it,’ I said, getting bold now. But he slapped me down coldly.

  ‘I’ll think about it, Miss Touchfeather. Wait at home until I call you.’

  Outside his office I handed Miss Moody my current expense sheet.

  ‘You’re non-operational,’ she said.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I’m sorry, dear. You’re not entitled to expenses when you’re non-operational.’

  Mr. Blaser kept me waiting for two days. During this time I stayed in my apartment, only going out when it was absolutely necessary. Each time I returned after one of these sorties I phoned in, just in case I’d missed his call. Each time Miss Moody told me politely that no, Mr. Blaser hadn’t called me. But it was only a matter of time, and on the third morning I answered the phone at nine a.m.

  ‘Mr. Blaser would like to see you,’ said Miss Moody.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’ll be there in half an hour.’

  I was there in twenty-five minutes, and Miss Moody wouldn’t let me go in.

  ‘He’s busy right now,’ she said. ‘And as long as you’re here, I’ve had an extraordinary note from Mr. Martin in New York. He says he gave you five hundred dollars in expenses last week.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said. She looked at me wide-eyed.

  ‘That’s over two hundred pounds.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did you do with it?’

  ‘I spent it.’

  ’Mr. Blaser will have to pass it, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘Exchange Control regulations, you understand.’

  ‘Perfectly,’ I said. ‘The green light’s gone on. May I go in, please?’ She nodded and I went in. Mr. Blaser was disembowel-ling his pipe once more. He didn’t look up.

  ‘Sit down, Miss Touchfeather.’ I sat. ‘I have considered carefully what we talked about the other day and I have come to a decision.’ What he meant was that he had called around and realised that he was up against a brick wall.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I said politely.

  ‘If, as you say, you have an entrée to Mr. Roger Gerastan, I suggest that you use it.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I said, and got to my feet.

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ he said. I sat down again. ‘I would like you to know, Miss Touchfeather, that I...this department... considerthis as a last resort. In the normal course of events I would never countenance an action of this sort. It’s speculative and based purely on intuition and inconclusive information. Unfortunately we have no alternative.’

  ‘You mean he wouldn’t talk, sir?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Hank Almedo.’

  At least he was man enough to admit it. ‘There was a slipup. Typical American, I might add. The men sent to apprehend Mr. Almedo were overzealous. Mr. Almedo attempted to avoid capture and...’ He shrugged.

  ‘Dead, I take it?’

  ‘That is the case, I believe.’ He gave an extra savage dig at his pipe and I heard the bowl crack clear across the room. His anger abated somewhat, turning to dismay as the pipe bowl came apart in his hands. Then anger returned.

  ‘Really, it’s too much. Everybody in America seems to be either a cowboy or a gangster. You give them a gun and they shoot at anything that moves. Didn’t they realise how important this man was to us?’

  ‘Knowing Almedo, they probably had to shoot to avoid being shot,’ I said.

  ‘That’s hardly the point, Miss Touchfeather.’ What he meant was that he would have expected one of his people to have been shot to hell and gone before damaging the merchandise. He laid the broken body of his pipe reverently on his blotter, gazed at it sadly for a moment, then looked up at me.

  ‘Well, what are you waiting for? Miss Moody will give you your ticket. You leave this afternoon.’ I headed for the door. ‘One thing more, Miss Touchfeather.’ I turned back. ‘Due to the precarious position of the pound sterling, I would consider it a personal favour if you took extra care over your expenses while in the dollar area.’ I didn’t reply. The day I considered doing a personal favour for Mr. Blaser would be the day they lowered me six feet under.

  THIRTEEN

  It was necessary for me to re-enter Marvin’s life in the same guise as I had left it. So I checked in with Walter in New York and he fixed me a United flight to Los Angeles. He also told me what he knew of the Hank Almedo affair. When Hank had shown no sign of moving from his motel, Walter had, on instructions from Mr. Blaser, arranged to have him picked up. Questioning was to follow, and I’m not sure that Hank wasn’t better off where he was. But anyway, three very discreet men Walter had borrowed from the CIA moved into the motel where Hank was staying. They watched him closely for twenty-four hours to establish a behaviour pattern; then they moved in professionally. But Hank was of the old school. Nobody was supposed to know he was staying at the motel, so a knock on the door could only mean trouble. Apparently he had pulled his gun and gone out through the window, just as the second CIA man was coming in the same way. Hank had shot him, not fatally as it turned out, and as the third CIA man, who was stationed twenty-five feet away in the next bungalow, yelled for Hank to drop his gun, Hank had loosed off a shot at him as well. By this time number one had come in through the door and had drawn a bead on Hank through the window. Again Hank decided not to heed any warnings and the first CIA man, standing at the window, had to make up his mind very quickly whether to shoot or be shot. He chose the former, and shot Hank in the knee, just as the third man, the one in the bungalow across the road, decided to do the same thing. Unfortunately, by the time he had loosed off his shot, Hank was scrabbling at his shattered leg, and his head was where his knee had been a moment before. Exit Hank Almedo. The hatchet men were sent home, the questionnaire torn up, and re-enter Katy, stage left.

  I landed in Los Angeles at four p.m. local time, chec
ked in at the same hotel and called the number that Walter had told me was Marvin’s.

  ‘Hello, doll,’ he said, when he knew who it was. ‘Where you been?’

  ‘New York,’ I said.

  ‘What did you do with my car?’

  ‘I left you a note.’

  ‘No note.’

  ‘I put it in your jacket pocket.’

  ‘No jacket.’

  ‘It must have been some trip.’

  ‘It was. When I landed, I was in San Francisco. I think I walked all the way, by sea. What are you doing?’

  ‘Waiting for you to ask me out.’

  ‘I’ve got a little party going up at my place. Come along,’ he said.

  ‘I left my orgy kit at home.’

  He chuckled. ‘Not tonight,’ he said. ‘Strictly hetero and Lucky Strike.’

  I took down his address and told him that I would be along. Almost as an afterthought he asked me if I had heard anything from Skip and Mary.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t even know where they’ve gone.’

  ‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘See you, doll.’ And he hung up.

  I was better equipped in the luggage department this trip and I chose something simple but sexy. I might have been working, but while it would have no effect on Marvin, it was a party after all, and a girl never knew when she might strike lucky. Poor Mary had had the right idea and Beverly Hills was supposed to be swarming with millionaires.

  Marvin’s pad was smaller than Skip’s, but not much, and the joint was really jumping by the time my cab dropped me off. One of the servants pointed me in the direction of my host and then left me to push my way through three hundred assorted movie and oil people until I managed to reach Marvin. He greeted me like a long-lost relative and proceeded to introduce me around as Lady Katherine Touchfeather from England. I must say this went down well with the Americans, but I looked a bit stupid when I found myself shaking hands with Don Scamper, late of Cumming-on-Hardy and a disastrous game of darts.

  ‘Charmed, Your Ladyship,’ he said, bowing over my hand.

  ‘Countryman of yours,’ said Marvin. ‘Mr....’

  ‘Scamper,’ said Don. ‘But Katy knows that already.’

  ‘That right?’ said Marvin. ‘Then I’ll leave you both to talk about whatever it is old friends talk about.’ He smiled at us and moved off to mingle with his other guests.

  ‘Surprise, surprise!’ said Don.

  ‘Isn’t it just,’ I said. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘I work here, remember? I told you we were coming over to the States.’

  ‘I remember,’ I said. ‘When did you get here? How are you enjoying it?’

  ‘Whoa back there, Katy! One question deserves another.’

  ‘Yes?’ I said, knowing full well what was coming.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Somehow he looked shrewder than he had over a pint of bitter and a dartboard.

  ‘I’m an air hostess,’ I said.

  ‘That’s what we heard. Air India, isn’t it?’

  ’It was. I work for an American company now.’

  ‘That’s chopping and changing a bit, isn’t it?’ There’s no point in being an attractive female if you don’t use it sometimes. I touched his arm and gave him one of my fourteen-carat smiles.

  ‘You sound like your Mr. Beamish,’ I said.

  He looked a trifle embarrassed suddenly. ‘That was none of my doing, Katy. It was Harvey Carter. He said—’

  ‘I don’t want to know what Harvey Carter said. I want you to fetch me a drink.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ He headed towards one of the bars like he was trying to make a touchdown, and I took a quick look around to see if I could locate Harvey. I didn’t think I would need too much wool to pull down over Don’s eyes, but I would need a polo-neck sweater to fool Harvey. I hadn’t spotted him by the time Don returned, flushed and triumphant.

  ‘Is Harvey here?’ I asked, when I had thanked him and fluttered the eyelashes a bit.

  ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘He’s working.’

  ‘Why aren’t you?’

  ‘Because until he finishes what he’s—’ He stopped, realising that perhaps he was being a little indiscreet. Still, I had the whole evening in front of me and, when he suggested a walk on the terrace, I tucked my hand under his arm and trotted along obediently.

  ‘Bit of luck finding you here, Katy,’ he said. ‘Like a drowning man spotting an oasis.’

  ‘You’re mixing your metaphors, Don,’ I said.

  ‘Am I? It’s the booze they serve here. You ask for a whisky and they give you some stuff that’s fit to gag a buzzard.’

  ‘You must ask for Scotch,’ I said, aware that he was drunker than I had at first thought. It was going to be a walkover. The fresh air didn’t help him either and, after two more drinks, during which time I managed to keep him away from the food, I gauged that the wheels were oiled sufficiently to start the motor.

  ‘I think it’s rotten that Harvey can’t be here,’ I said. ‘What could be so important that he couldn’t get away for a party like this?’

  ‘He’s head man since poor old Bill disappeared. Not that Harvey’s as good as Bill, but he’s bright. Bill was a bloody genius—blinding revelations and all that sort of thing. Harvey’s a slogger. It takes him a year to arrive where Bill could in twenty-four hours. But he gets there eventually. This new thing we’re working on—Bill would have had it by now. Harvey takes his time.’

  ‘What new thing?’

  Drunk he might have been, but not that drunk.

  ‘This and that, Katy, this and that. What about this place, then? Bloody extraordinary, isn’t it?’ He was referring among other things to the fact that there was a portable bar in the pool and four of the guests, swimsuited, were helping themselves to drinks from it.

  ‘Are you going to like it, Don?’ I asked.

  ‘What? America? Certainly I’m going to like it. I was just talking to an actor fellow. He says they’ve got a cricket team right here in Hollywood. If they’re bright enough to play cricket, I might be able to get a game of rugger.’

  ‘You’re living here in Hollywood, then?’

  ‘No. Actually it’s about three hundred miles from here. That’s another thing. People over here think nothing of travelling three hundred miles for a party. Back home it was a drama travelling three hundred yards. I came down tonight in an aeroplane, a company plane all to myself.’

  ‘He obviously looks after his employees,’ I said.

  ‘Who does?’

  ‘Roger Gerastan, of course.’

  ’I suppose he does. I hadn’t thought of him being responsible. It’s just the Corporation as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘He is the Corporation, isn’t he?’

  ‘Not as far as I’m concerned. Never seen the fellow. He’s a bit like that other chap, the one who makes aeroplanes and movie stars and has just bought Las Vegas. I’ll tell you something though, Katy, the setup here makes old Beamish’s lot look a bit sick. There’s a bloody great private army out where we work. Getting in and out of the place is a full-time operation.’

  ‘They’re very security conscious over here,’ I said.

  ‘I think they overdo it a bit. Come on, I’ll get you another drink.’

  ‘How about taking me up for the weekend?’ I said, before he could drag me back into the party.

  ‘Up where?’

  ‘Where you work.’

  ‘Couldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘They’d cut my balls off. Sorry! Didn’t mean to be crude. Must have had one too many.’ He took my arm firmly and started to lead me back into the house.

  ‘How come you’re at Marvin Torbay’s party?’ I asked him. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘Met him up at the plant last week. He said if I was ever in Los Angeles to look him up. Glad I did. Talk about how the other half lives!’

  ‘What on earth was he doing up at the plant?’

  ‘I don’t know. Wanderin
g around.’

  ‘With such tight security?’

  ‘Didn’t seem to bother him. When you’ve got his sort of loot I don’t suppose it matters.’

  This was interesting. It pointed to the fact that Marvin was connected with Gerastan on more than just a social level. I decided that about here I’d better start working on Marvin; after all, that was the reason I was here. I let Don wander off to get me a drink and then I started to search for my host. He was surrounded by half a dozen people, holding forth in a gentle denigrating way on how it felt to have been left twelve million dollars and a thousand acres of oil by a fond father, thus obviating having to work for a living.

  ‘As long as that stuff keeps slurping up out of the ground, I guess I’m never going to know the joys of an honest day’s toil.’

  There was a fluffy little blonde thing hanging on to his every word. She clearly hadn’t got the message as far as he was concerned, because she looked daggers at me as I moved up to the group and latched on to Marvin.

  ‘Where have you been, Katy?’ he said, dragging me into the circle. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘Don Scamper and I have been waving our Union Jacks and saying what a good job it was we gave you your independence.’ One of the men in the group snorted and would have said something rude if Marvin had let him. But he overrode him neatly and politely.

  ‘Katy is one of my favourite people,’ he said. ‘Even if she does go around stealing automobiles.’

  ‘You don’t!’ said the blonde girl. ‘Really?’

  ‘Only when I’m hard up,’ I said.

  ‘You’re joking,’ she said. I admitted I was joking. ‘Why do you steal them, then? For kicks?’

  ‘She’s a kleptomaniac,’ said Marvin. ‘She’d steal anything.’

  A cold glint came into the blonde’s baby-blue eyes, flashing at me from beneath her contact lenses.