“Which leaves the communists,” said Simone.
“The decision will ultimately be up to the Council,” said Zacharie, “but I think they know as well as I do that, ultimately, the communists are going to have to be put down. If not, it will mean losing everything, our homes, businesses, everything we’ve built up in the past one hundred years will vanish overnight. I think Phillips didn’t want to get involved because the Americans may be working with the communists. If that’s the case, the communists are only going to get stronger. We have to strike now. Besides, the Japanese will probably notice if a few farmers turn up dead or missing in the country. But they won’t care as much if they themselves are not the targets.”
“I’ll be sure to have Jacques pass that along in his next transmission,” said Simone. “He has it scheduled for Saturday morning. He wants to vary the times so the broadcasts are random. He feels that will be safer for everyone.”
“Good. We’ve set a meeting for tomorrow night with Kruger. Jacques will be able to accurately report the status of things.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow evening after work. Don’t worry. We’ll both be in our offices when the bomb goes off.”
Simone was silent for a moment and savored her cigarette. “Zacharie, when do we get to go home?”
“I don’t know, Simone. Either Jacques or I will have to remain here and keep procuring more weapons and supplies. It’ll be what we’ll be ordered to do. If the Americans are supporting the communists, we’ll need even more weapons than we originally anticipated.”
“If you go back, I’m going with you. I can’t stay here in Calcutta without you.”
Zacharie held up his hands and shook his head. “Do you know what you’re saying? We won’t be going back to our homes in Saigon and picking up where we left off. We can’t just arrive without papers. That would arouse too many suspicions. And once we’re there, we’ll have to stay. The trip alone is going to be tough. Most of it will be on foot or on mules through jungles and over mountains. There will be dangerous animals to contend with, let alone the Japanese and bandits who will be more than happy to take our cargo. When we finally get back, we’re going to have to live in the country. It will be a camping trip that never ends. There will be no running water or conveniences. Food will probably be scarce.” He smiled at her and continued. “I know you don’t like it here, but think about it. We’ve all had it easy. We have plenty to eat and drink, we live in nice houses, and want for nothing. That’s a lot more than our friends and comrades back in Saigon and Hanoi can say.”
Simone thought for a moment. “Okay, then. If one of you has to go back, send Jacques. He’d like nothing better than to die for Indochine. Besides, I can be a lot of help to you here.”
“Margaux told me, and I’ve seen the bomb, but did everything go well with Rurik yesterday?” Chevalier asked her.
“Until he was satisfied, he quizzed us over and over again and made us arm and disarm it. It’s not going to be that difficult and everything will go as planned.”
“Do you think Margaux’s up to it?”
“Don’t let the simple housewife persona fool you. She immediately caught on to what Rurik showed her, and I think she’ll be a good little actress tomorrow when she drops it off at the café. Everything will go as planned.”
“Good.” Chevalier looked at his watch and crushed out the remainder of his cigarette. “We still have a couple of hours.”
“Then let’s not waste them,” said Simone as she slid down in the bed next to him.
A few blocks away from Damini’s Café, Simone and Margaux sat in Simone’s car. They had just finished arming the bomb.
“Give me some more tape,” said Margaux.
Simone handed it to her. “Are you sure you set it for the right time?”
“Simone, you know I did.” Margaux checked her watch. “It’s ten minutes before five now, and it’s set to go off at ten after five.”
“We can count on the American being on time, that’s how they are. Appointments are important to them. Phillips was on time too.”
“When it goes off, we’ll be kilometers away from here.” Margaux finished taping up the box. “That should do it. No one will go to the trouble of stealing a look inside.”
“Are you ready?” asked Simone.
Margaux took a deep breath and opened the car door. “I’m ready. Turn the engine on and leave it running. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Margaux briskly covered the couple of blocks to the café. When she entered, she was quickly greeted by the owner who asked, “May I help you?”
Margaux looked the small establishment over, as if unsure of herself. “Is this Damini’s?”
“I am Damini and this is my establishment.”
“Good. May I set this down?”
Damini nodded.
“I see you’re busy,” Margaux said, setting the box on the counter.
“Now I am. It was slow this afternoon, and I was thinking of closing, but …” Damini shrugged. “That is what happens.”
Margaux frowned. “Maybe I should come back another time. You see, my husband just got a promotion of sorts. His friend has told him about the great food here. He was planning on meeting me here in a little while.” Motioning toward the box, Margaux continued, “I’ve even bought him a present, a clock he’s been wanting. But if you’re going to be crowded, we can come back another time.”
“Oh, no, I will be happy to serve you. I will have a table open shortly,” replied Damini.
“Wonderful! It will just be the two of us.”
“Because it is a celebration, I will make something special,” said Damini. “And I will send my daughter around the corner to the bakery. They make very good pastries and they will be perfect for dessert. While you wait for your husband, may I make you a cup of tea?”
“I’d love some, but I just came from the store where I bought the clock. Is there a stationary shop close by where I might be able to purchase some wrapping paper?”
“There is a store a couple of blocks down and a few streets over from here.” Taking out a piece of paper, Damini wrote down the name of the store and drew a simple map.
“That’s wonderful.” Margaux reached into her purse, took out several rupee notes, and handed them to the woman. “For the pastries.”
“No, I will just put it on your bill at the end of the meal.”
“If you’re sure.” Margaux looked at her watch. “I’d better be on my way so I can be back before my husband arrives. There won’t be any sense in wrapping the gift if he sees it the way it is. Can I leave it there on the counter? I don’t want it to be in your way and it’s very fragile.”
“Right there is good. It is not in my way.”
“I’ll see you in a few minutes. Have that cup of tea ready,” said Margaux on her way out the door.
Back in the car, Simone had the engine running and quickly sped off once Margaux had closed the car door. “How did it go, any difficulties?”
“No, no difficulties at all. We got there just at the right time, she hasn’t been busy all day, but now she’s crowded. She’ll lose track of how long I’ve been gone and won’t get too suspicious of the box I left behind. I told her I needed wrapping paper. Margaux laughed. “That poor woman was happy for the business. She’s sending her daughter out in a few minutes to get some sort of dessert for us, and she even offered to make me a cup of tea.”
“If you want, we can go back for it,” said Simone.
“No, I think something a bit stronger than a cup of tea is in order.”
“You said it was crowded?” asked Simone.
“Mostly Indians with their families. There was one Englishman with what looked to be his wife. He was older, so I don’t think it was Ferguson.”
“Good. And I’m sure Ferguson will be along shortly.”
“Look at that, my hands are shaking,” said Margaux as she tried to steady a match to light her cigarette. “I defin
itely think I need something a bit stronger than tea.”
Bunnel was irritated as he and Emma drove past the café. Friday afternoon traffic had been busy, and to complicate things, there had been a traffic accident on the route they had taken. Bunnel turned down the same side street where Simone and Margaux had parked, only now there was no longer a place to park.
“Don’t worry, Jimmy,” said Emma. “So what if we’re a few minutes late. Everything will be fine. Either du Maurier will be there or he won’t. If he isn’t, tomorrow you either call him or go by his office and see why he stood you up. Let me out. I’ll go inside and wait. If he begins to leave, I’ll make contact with him. I’ll play the role of the grieving fiancée again.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Go ahead and park the car. I’ll be fine,” she replied as she stepped out of the car.
As she walked she began to get an uneasy feeling. The feeling became stronger the closer to the café she got. Initially, she discounted it and attributed it to going to another meeting that would probably lead to nowhere. All of their investigations had been dead ends, and she felt this one would probably end the same way. Absorbed in her thoughts, just as she was about to turn the corner to walk the half block to the café, she collided with a man and was almost knocked over.
“Sorry, ma’am, how clumsy of me. I didn’t see you there,” said an American airman.
“It’s probably may fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” replied Emma.
The airman reached down to pick up several packages he had dropped when he bumped into her.
“Let me help you with that,” said Emma, picking up more packages.
“Thank you. You wouldn’t know where I could find a taxi stand, would you? I’ve looked all over and haven’t been able to find one.”
He’s a fellow officer, but I really don’t have time for this now, thought Emma. “I have no idea,” she said as she began to walk away.
“I hate to bother you, and I can see that you’re in a hurry,” the man persisted. “But I’ve been out buying souvenirs to take back home to my girl and now I really need to get to the airfield.”
They all have a girl back home, she thought. Next he’ll want to show me her picture and tell me how pretty she is. I really don’t have time for this!
“It’s just that I haven’t been back home to L.A. for over a year, and I can’t miss my flight.”
Emma stopped in her tracks, “You’re from L.A.?”
“Yes, ma’am. West Hollywood. Do you know where it is?”
“I sure do. I grew up in L.A.”
“Well, what do you think the chances of this are? Here we both are in Calcutta, India, and I need help and run into someone from home. As I’ve said, I’m on my way home. Been transferred back to the States. Some sort of training assignment, but I don’t really mind. See, I received a letter from my girl and she just signed a contract with RKO. She’s going to be in pictures!”
Now I want to see a picture. “Do you have a picture of her?” Emma asked.
The airman gladly opened his wallet and proudly showed Emma a photograph. “It was taken a couple of months ago.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Emma told him, looking at the photo. “She should do well at RKO.”
“It’s been a long struggle for her. She started a couple of years ago. You know, just doing extra work. She finally caught a break, and now that the studio signed her, she’ll get a salary and everything. I’m so happy for her! And with me being back in the States, I’ll be closer to her and, hopefully, we can get married.”
Emma thought for a moment, “Take her to Ciro’s on Sunset and ask her there. Do you know where it is? Bette Davis, Clark Gable, all of Hollywood goes there.”
“I sure do know where it is, and that’s where I’ll take her. Thanks for the advice.”
“If it were me, that’s where I’d want to be asked,” said Emma. “Now, about that taxi. I think I remember seeing a stand a few blocks back the way I just came. Down a couple of blocks and one over to the right.”
She had just finished her sentence when she was violently thrown to the ground by an explosion that shook the neighborhood. As she struggled to get up, she fell back down on her hands and knees. She could see Bunnel running frantically toward her and could tell he was yelling, but she couldn’t hear him.
When Bunnel reached her, he helped her up. “Emma,” he said, looking into her eyes, “It’s Jimmy, are you okay?” When she didn’t reply, he repeated the question.
“Yes,” she finally answered, still desperately trying to regain her composure.
“Are you sure?”
Emma looked herself up and down. She was confused but starting to come around. Her skirt was torn and caked with blood. She pulled it up above her knee, revealing a gash she had received when she was knocked down. “I’ve ruined my skirt,” she said almost inaudibly.
“Don’t worry about that, we can get you another one.”
Emma looked around, “Jimmy, how’s the airman?”
“What airman?”
“The one I was talking to. Right before the blast. He was standing right beside me.”
“I didn’t see anyone.”
“But he was here. We were talking about Los Angeles.”
“Maybe so, but he’s gone now.”
Emma looked down on the sidewalk, pointed, and said, “Those were the packages he was carrying. I helped him pick them up.”
“He must have decided to get out of here, or maybe he went to help out. Emma, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I think so. I’m just going to need a bit more time to fully get my bearings. How bad was the explosion?”
“I don’t know. You were my first concern.”
With Bunnel helping her, they turned the corner and looked down the block. The building that had housed the café had been reduced to rubble and was engulfed in flames. The businesses on both sides of it had also sustained damage and were burning out of control. Emma could feel a draft around her legs as the fires fueled themselves with more and more oxygen.
At the opposite end of the street, a young girl turned the corner and a look of horror came over her face. Pastries dropped out of the large box she was carrying as it slid from her hands and onto the ground. She began running toward the café. Emma heard her screaming hysterically as a man took her in his arms and held her back.
“Jimmy, no one survived that. There’s no way anyone could survive that. It had to be meant for you.”
“If you’re able, I think we should go. We don’t want to be here when the authorities show up.”
Emma took another look at the chaos that continued to unfold.
“Emma?”
“Yes, we should go.”
Bunnel continued to put his arm around her waist and supported her on the walk back to the car. Once the car was moving, Emma said, “I know what you want to do and where you’re planning on heading. You want to go put a bullet into du Maurier.”
“Several,” replied Bunnel.
“That can wait. If we had been on time, we both would be dead right now. The last thing we need to do is go off halfcocked and get into another fight today, one we might not win. The first round almost went to them, but that will be the last one they win. And remember, we still have to find out what, if anything, du Maurier knows about Preston and the OSS. I know this is going to sound contradictory right now, but we have to keep our mission and goals as quiet and discrete as possible.”
Bunnel laughed, “Especially after a bomb that just took out a city block, but you’re right.
Emma nodded her head in agreement. “We need time to sort through this and make sure the blast truly was intended for us.”
“Where do you want to go, Emma?”
“Just take me home. My knee is still bleeding and I want to get it cleaned up before it gets infected. No telling what kind of dirt got in it when I hit the sidewalk. Still shaking slightly from the shock, she added, “We’l
l wait for Henri and Vern. See what they can tell us about where du Maurier was. Then we thoroughly think this through and develop a plan. And we need to keep this affair as quiet as possible. The worst thing we could do today is act on emotions. Plus, du Maurier may have been killed in the explosion. We need to find out.”
Bunnel put the car into gear and pulled into traffic. “Okay,” he agreed, “we’ll take you home and get you cleaned up.”
As he drove, Emma began thinking about the explosion at the café and her encounter with the airman. A few minutes earlier and I would have been in there. In the café when the explosion occurred. The accident I understand, and I understand how that would delay us. But the airman? I was going to give him the brush off until he told me he was from Los Angeles. Like he said, what are the chances of that? I can’t even begin to think about it.
Emma opened her purse. At the bottom, under her revolver, she found the amulet the old woman in Liberia had given her. She took it in her hand and clutched it firmly the rest of the ride home.
Conrad Kruger walked into the Three Hundred Club and saw the du Mauriers and Chevaliers seated in one of the now familiar alcoves. As he approached their table, he noticed they were all drinking and seemed to be in good spirits.
“Sit down, Conrad, have a drink with us,” said Zacharie.
“Thank you, but no. I have more work to do later tonight, and I really can’t stay too long.”
“Conrad, we insist. You work all the time, you need to relax more.”
“I guess one wouldn’t hurt. You all seem to be happy, what’s the occasion?”
Operation Blue Sapphire Page 15
