‘Because my will is in a safe place which not even he can reach and he knows that he doesn’t figure in it. He also knows that Cyp is on the verge of big things in his career. I maybe told you that he’s a possible presidential candidate back home. Well, most of the dividends Mikel expected from our marriage will begin to come only after Cyp takes up his new appointment, though if all goes really well the sweetest honey will drip when he gets the top job. Cyp has a weak streak in him and can act yellow but he wouldn’t stand for anything happening to me. So if Mikel hurt me, even accidentally, Cyp would probably destroy him.’
Grant had begun to hate the words ‘why’ or ‘how’ but one again Petra had manœuvred him into asking questions. ‘How,’ he said, ‘can your brother destroy Mikel?’
She smiled cynically. ‘He would only have to tip off Bas and Roca, or indeed a few other people and one at least would kill him. Slowly,’ she added, ‘because, as I told you, they are my men and would kill for the sake of my ghost.’
‘But Mikel will have all that figured out.’
‘He also knows,’ said Petra quietly, ‘that Cyp and I are realists. So obviously we’ll have taken steps to make sure that even if we both died our hands could still reach out to finish him. After all what are solicitors or bankers or friends for if not to post last letters? No,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘he wants to keep me alive. And in fact I think one part of him respects me, because he’s at least big enough to admire foresight in others. And remember he enjoys showing me off. Maybe you can’t understand how we tick, but we’ve reached a sort of understanding which works. So I expect to live. But I wouldn’t be too sure about yourself,’ she added softly. ‘In fact, David Grant, if I were you I’d be less independent. So for the last time. Do you want me to stay?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I want to change and we can talk later. But it would be wise if everyone remembered that my own ghost would also have a long arm and that I don’t dive into trouble without preparing in advance. So let the rumour get around that I’m likely to be more harmless alive. Got it?’
The girl kissed him lightly on each cheek and smiled. ‘I’ll say this, David Grant. You don’t scare easy. See you!’
6
‘It was really a sort of sick joke’
Grant had a shower, checked up on time, and contacted Krystelle at 1900 hours. He had set up his transmitter beside the open window, switched on background music and spoke in a blend of Parisian argot, London Cockney and West Indian patois: a complex of sound which they had evolved into a private language[*] calculated to baffle most people not in the secret. Indeed the only people who could translate when they spoke it fast were Krystelle’s brother Frank and his taciturn friend Harry.
‘Hello, David. Where have you bin? Long time no hear!’
Grant picked up a hint of anxiety in Krystelle’s voice and struck a business note from the beginning. ‘Thanks for these reports today,’ he said. ‘They were useful. But where are you now?’
‘Not far, David. Your old professor fixed me some fantastic binocs and yo’ look like yo’ just had a bath.’ She laughed mischievously and Grant sensed that she had been reassured. ‘Don’t look so surprised. I’m only ’bout half a mile away. Up a tree, in fact, and a hundred metres or so across the road from the Brandt pad. I’m nice and private but with a real good view of the house.’ Her voice changed and Grant prickled to attention. ‘But say, David man! That chick who kissed you? Tell Krystelle exactly where she figures, ’cos Krystelle is interested.’
Grant filled her in on detail, but played down the drug angle, and heard the girl take a deep, deep breath, a sure sign that she was irritated. A small hill rose beyond the shrubberies and he estimated that she had chosen a viewpoint near the top among some maples. She could climb like a monkey and would have cut down risk margin to zero plus one. ‘Now listen, honey,’ he continued. ‘They’re moving me into another suite, the Magnolia Rooms they call it, and I’ve no idea where it’s located, but if it faces your direction I’ll flash the lights three times at five before midnight, and it you’re still around you may be able to pin-point my address.’
Krystelle chortled with amusement. ‘Is that an invitation?’
‘No.’ Grant knew that she was crazy enough for anything, and so expert that she could get away with almost everything, but the risk was too great. ‘The grounds may be patrolled and I’ve an idea they have guard dogs as well. So we’d better stick to our bugs.’
Krystelle’s voice became deeply husky. ‘That’s what I’m doing, David, ’cos you bug me good and I wondered if a visit could be fitted into our agenda.’
Grant hesitated. He would have given a lot for a long talk with the girl who had become the most important thing in his life, and whose razor-edged brain seemed at times able to cut through to the core of any problem. And God knew that there were problems! Complex problems which would take a deal of thinking! ‘If I don’t flash at midnight,’ he said at last, ‘have a cautious look-see. But let the Admiral know what you’re doing and lay on a rescue party if you’re not back by dawn. Because you’ll be working in the dark without even knowing where my rooms are. You’d have to be very, very careful.’
‘As if I wouldn’t?’ said Krystelle. ‘Any other questions you’d like to send back home?’
Grant hesitated. ‘Double check on Mikel Brandt’s past history and family: ditto for the dates of the Moreiro air crash in Amazonia and the movements of one Ramon Bosca, son of the bloke who killed himself after fusing his estate with the Moreiro outfit. And try and get a slant on how much Petra and Cyp are worth in hard cash or securities.’
‘And when do you want to know?’
‘As soon as possible. I’m signing off soon because I’ve a date with Mikel Brandt in seventeen minutes. There’s a suggestion that he’s a killer, so if I disappear start with the fact that after signing off I’m going there almost direct and don’t expect the meeting to be easy.’
Krystelle became serious. ‘The tape’s running true, David. So we’re on record and the Admiral will get it tomorrow.’ She paused. ‘But there’s one personal thing. If that woman kisses you again I’ll tear her apart. If not tomorrow then the next day. Tell her that I’ll do all the kissing that’s needed until further notice. So watch it, man. Roger and out.’
Grant always knew when Krystelle was teasing. And he also knew that she was never jealous. But she sometimes had her own way of getting a message across, and knowing as he did the message was simple. Some off-beat intuition had warned her that Petra was dangerous. ‘I’ll remember,’ he said. ‘And thanks. Roger and out.’
He had locked the door into his suite and was disconnecting equipment when he heard the soft scrape of a well-oiled lock turning. Roca arrived as he was fixing his belt and Grant decided to test his reactions. ‘Valets come when I ring,’ he said softly. ‘So I expect you to knock before you enter. And that’s an order.’
Roca stood motionless, arms limp by his side. ‘The Magnolia Rooms are fixed, sir. So now you come and I show.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ said Grant. ‘But I’ll ring when I need you.’
‘You not coming?’
‘No.’
Grant found himself lifted in a bear hug before he even realised what was happening. ‘You want Roca to carry you or you walk?’ The man’s voice was unexpectedly gentle and Grant saw that the eyes which were now level with his own were still deadpan. He forced himself to relax and felt Roca’s arms tighten around his body. ‘My mistress say you go now to Magnolia place,’ said Roca. ‘So do you walk or do I carry?’
‘Carry,’ snapped Grant, and as the man suddenly heaved him into the air and twisted to throw him across his shoulder Grant drove home a vicious head butt to his nose. Roca gasped and relaxed his grip long enough for Grant to drive index and middle fingers of his right hand towards his eyes. He felt the squelch beneath them and the man stumbled blindly backwards. He arched slightly as he blundered against a low ottoman, and Grant kicked him in
the crutch. The toes of his shoes had been reinforced with a shell of iron-hard plastic evolved by Juin’s boffins, and the blow was deadly. As Roca crumpled to the floor Grant cut him across the neck with two sucessive karate chops. He had reacted with the speed and violence of an athlete in top training, but he knew that the effort had to be short or his reserves would be drained for hours and he poised for a knock-out. Roca was writhing in agony, yet hardly making a sound. His hands were pressed against his eyes and his knees flexed tight when Grant kicked him on the side of the jaw. He grunted and as his head went limp Grant dropped beside him and threw a series of short sharp jabs against his lower sternum. He stood up only when he was certain that the man was unconscious and then swiftly reassembled his equipment. He suspected that Krystelle would have kept the room under observation until she saw him leave and half-smiled when he got through to her with his first signal.
‘Thanks for giving me a buzz,’ she said. ‘That was some fight! In fact you had me worried for a moment! Reflections cut out some of it ’cos the light isn’t so good. But I saw enough and, man, you went berserk. What gives?’
Grant rattled out his story, knowing that she was taping every word and that the story would be on the Admiral’s desk within an hour or two. ‘He’s badly beaten up,’ he ended. ‘Maybe even die! But he’s Petra Brandt’s private property so I don’t aim to tell her. I’ve got a heavy shot of morphine handy and that’ll take care of him for six or eight hours. Then I’m going to drop him out of the window. Someone’ll find him and after that I’ll play it by ear.’
‘David man,’ said Krystelle, and Grant could sense that she was uptight, ‘don’t ever take on that weight again with no help around. That hood was a gorilla.’
‘That hood’s damn near dead,’ said Grant. ‘So relax. I’ve got to see Mikel in five minutes and there’s work to do.’
‘One minute,’ said Krystelle. ‘I’m coming over soon’s I get the signal. Flashes five before midnight. Juin gave me some smelly dope to confuse dogs. They seem to dig the scent and forget to bite. So we can forget them and I’ll take a chance on patrols.’
‘Take a chance on nothing,’ said Grant. ‘You’ve got to stay alive.’
‘See you,’ said Krystelle. ‘Message received and understood.’ Grant heard her laugh and the receiver went dead. She wasn’t giving him a chance to be difficult!
He pulled Roca towards the windows, opened his cigarette case and chose a prepackaged sterile syringe loaded with sixty milligrammes of morphine sulphate. The case held a variety of drugs in a series of ampoules each masked by a tube of paper designed to look, at first sight, like a well-known king-size branded cigarette. He never used the case in public but always carried it in a jacket pocket. For a man of Roca’s weight sixty milligrammes was a small enough dose, and he reinforced it with a hundred milligrammes of an intravenous barbiturate. The man was alive but with disturbed breathing and Grant suspected that there was a minor paresis along one side of his face. He opened the window and pushed Roca through the narrow opening. The Teak Suite overhung the glasshouse and there was a clear drop to the lawn below.
He landed feet first and flopped like a rag doll to the ground, his head lolling to one side and with his arms curled beneath him.
Grant closed the window, checked his own face but found no sign of damage and then lifted the house phone. ‘Send Bas up,’ he said in Spanish.
He lit a cigarette and rehearsed exactly what he would do, but Bas arrived before he had used even one centimetre of his Peter Stuyvesant. ‘Where’s the Magnolia Suite? Your mistress forgot to tell me how to get there.’
Bas bowed slightly. ‘Roca should be here to take you.’
‘Well, he isn’t. And I’m due to see people right away, so let’s get going, shall we?’
‘Dr. Grant,’ said Bas quietly. ‘Roca had orders not to leave here until things were organised. When did you see him last?’
Grant walked towards the door. ‘Not since I came out of my bath. Which way?’
Bas sounded puzzled. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘And does it matter? Roca knows what he’s doing. But right now I’m due to see my host. So let’s go.’
Grant heard Bas follow behind as he entered the corridor which ran towards the main mass of the house and it seemed an eternity since he had last walked along it in the reverse direction. ‘Which way now?’ he asked as the corridor entered a square landing from which two other passages led east and west.
‘Across and sharp right,’ said Bas, ‘and then third on your right.’
Grant sensed that the man was hostile and quickened his step. The Magnolia Suite had a plaque on the door embossed with a solitary white magnolia. A short entrance hall opened into a bedroom and Grant guessed that the layout was probably much the same as in the Teak Suite. The windows of a comfortable sitting room faced in the same direction and Mikel Brandt was seated on a deep lug-chair sipping a large pink gin.
His manner was unexpectedly friendly. ‘Come in, David. What’ll you have? There’s a selection of most things in the freezer.’
A young house-steward crossed the room and pointed towards a chair. ‘A clarito,’ said Grant, ‘with a twist. No olive.’
He was motioned to a chair facing the broad bay windows. ‘I like your set-up,’ he said, feeling his way, ‘though being a millionaire must help when it comes to running a show like this.’
‘I suppose you got that from your briefing.’ Mikel spoke as though this was the most natural thing in the world. ‘Though how anyone knows what I’m worth is an eternal mystery since I don’t even know myself. Most of my capital is tied up in property,’ he added. ‘Sometimes hardly enough in current account to pay the staff.’
‘My heart bleeds,’ said Grant.
Mikel lifted his glass. ‘Salud! And let’s hope that your heart never bleeds because of any other reason.’
‘Meaning?’
Mikel laid down his glass and his face creased into an infectious boyish smile. ‘I’ve rarely seen a man of your years move so fast or effectively as you did a few minutes ago when you dealt with Roca. Congratulations.’
Grant raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t quite follow.’
‘Closed-circuit television,’ said Brandt abruptly. ‘I got it fixed when Petra did a trip to Switzerland last fall, and to date it hasn’t been spotted.’ He paused. ‘I’ll let you into a secret. You know how there’s a large sort of abstract work on one side of the breakfast room and another in the bedroom? Bits of wood stuck together! Well, my people cut out a circle here and there. Whole thickness of wood involved, of course, and the plugs bevelled so that they can be pulled out from the other side of the wall. Easy, really, for anyone to insert the camera lens. And, of course, access is also convenient. Provided, of course, you know how. And that’s still one more secret Petra hasn’t rumbled yet. You know, Grant,’ he continued softly after a brief pause, ‘you take things really cool. You’ve just been told one of my most important interests and yet you don’t bat an eyelid. How come?’
‘Lenses in the bedroom as well, I think you said?’ Grant forced himself to speak slowly. It was one more way of trimming risk of trouble. Speaking slowly, he had found, made it easier to handle unexpected emergencies and he had also been told that it encouraged clear thinking. ‘I remember a set-up like that in Amsterdam. Must have cost a bomb! Though, like you, the chap could afford it.’
Mikel looked surprised. ‘That sounds like a story?’
‘It wouldn’t interest you,’ said Grant. ‘The man is dead. However. You were saying?’
Brandt carefully trimmed a cigar. ‘You know, Doctor, when we first met way back in Paris I wrote you off as a poseur, if not a downright phoney. But I must confess you have a fascination which appeals. And I gather it appealed to my wife as well from what I could see last night.’
‘Someone told me you were a peepwick, though I found it hard to believe,’ said Grant. ‘But it seems they were right! Do you do it for kicks or wha
t?’
‘Or what!’ Brandt lit his cigar and blew a cloud of pale violet smoke. ‘I don’t need to tell you, of course, that much of what you said has also been monitored. Starting when my talkative brother-in-law began to gossip after dinner.’
‘Why should that be the slightest interest to myself?’ Grant was one hundred per cent certain that Brandt was bluffing with a thin hand.
Mikel studied him thoughtfully and then sipped his pink gin. ‘You’re a shade too casual. Not natural. But going back to Roca! Weren’t you taking a chance beating him up as you did? A kick on the head and so forth! If he dies you might be indicted for first-degree murder.’
‘Why?’ asked Grant. And then the obvious answer crossed his mind. If Mikel was all that efficient it followed that he would have a video tape of the whole incident.
‘Exactly.’ Brandt eased himself in his chair. ‘Video tape it is. And now safely stored.’
‘Tell me, Mikel,’ said Grant quietly. ‘Where is all this getting us? I come to B.A. on a small simple mission, send your wife flowers, get invited to dinner, become a house-guest against my will and then find myself being manipulated into difficult conversations or situations by a mixed bag of people about whom I could hardly care less. A valet attacks me when I try to leave my room and I defend myself. I heave him out of the window to cool off and go to have drinks with my host only to find that he’s making all sorts of carefully worded threats. So what exactly do you want to know? Or what exactly do you want me to do?’
Brandt poised for action and then he leaned forward. His personality changed as his eyes sparked with interest and everything about him seemed to switch on. ‘You’re a foreigner here, and I’ve monitored enough conversation to get you arrested as a political undesirable.’
‘That,’ said Grant coldly, ‘is rubbish. ‘I’ve said nothing of any importance about anything.’
Crimson Jade Page 9
