This is For Real

by James Hadley Chase

  There was a long pause, then Fantaz said, “Most interesting. Just why wasn’t she able to collect the rest of this handsome sum, Mr. Girland?”

  “A gunman hired by Herman Radnitz shot her at Orly airport as she was leaving for Dakar.”

  The beer slopped a little in the glass Fantaz was holding.

  “Is she dead?” The voice was huskier.

  “She’s dead,” Girland said. “We were leaving in the same plane. I came on alone.”

  A trickle of sweat ran down Fantaz’s face. He took out a crisp white handkerchief and dabbed at his cheek.

  “And who is Radnitz?”

  “The infamous Radnitz: there is no other. He also wants to find Carey.”

  “Why did he have Rosa shot?”

  Careful, Girland warned himself. He mustn’t get the idea I am working for Radnitz and not for Dorey.

  “She was no longer of any use to him. He had bribed her to give him your name. He too is looking for you.”

  The black sunglasses were directed at Girland.

  “And how do you know all this, Mr. Girland?”

  “There’s not much Dorey doesn’t know. He told me.”

  While they were talking, Janine had finally made up her mind. She walked away from where Malik was standing and turning left at the end of the street, she came to a café bar. She entered and asked the barman if she could use the telephone.

  Fantaz was saying, “All this is very interesting. It is also mysterious. What is expected of me?”

  Girland began to lose patience.

  “Dorey employed an agent to contact Rosa,” he said, an edge to his voice. “This agent told me to handle it. Radnitz caught up with this agent. I found him with the nails of his fingers torn out and very much dead.”

  Fantaz slumped a little in his chair.

  “That still doesn’t answer my question, Mr. Girland. What is expected of me?”

  Girland became aware that the bell of the telephone standing on the bar was ringing. He saw the barman answer, frown, then look around the café. His eyes met Girland’s and he signalled to him.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Girland said and crossed to the bar.

  “You Mr. Gilchrist?” the barman asked.

  “That’s right.”

  The barman handed him the receiver.

  “Someone wants you,” he said.

  Puzzled, Girland took the receiver and said, “Hello? This is Gilchrist.”

  Over the open line, he could hear the busy roar of the traffic, then a woman’s voice, slightly muffled, said, “The blond Russian is following you. He is outside the café where you are now,” and the line went dead.

  Girland stood for a long moment, staring out into the sun baked street, then slowly he replaced the receiver. He was sure the woman who had spoken to him was Janine, and yet he could scarcely believe it. He remembered the big blond Russian he had seen on the N’Gor beach. He had a sudden tight feeling across his chest. If the Russian was really following him, he must know who he was. It was possible too the Russian had recognised Fantaz.

  Girland went back to where Fantaz was sitting.

  Fantaz had finished his beer and now looked up as Girland joined him.

  “You will have to excuse me, Mr. Girland,” he said. “All this is very interesting, but I have an appointment.”

  “A few minutes after I had called on your house, a Russian agent also called. At this moment your house is being watched and another Russian agent is outside watching this café.”

  Fantaz’s mouth twitched and his face lost colour.

  “How am I to know you are speaking the truth, Mr. Girland?”

  “Call your house and ask your doorman if two men haven’t been asking for you.”

  Fantaz didn’t move. His forehead was creased into a frown as he thought.

  “Where can I contact you?” he asked finally.

  “I’m at the N’Gor. I’m registered there under the name of John Gilchrist. What do you intend to do?”

  “That is my affair.” Fantaz got to his feet. “I may contact you later.”

  “Don’t go back to your house,” Girland warned. “And watch out. You could land up very dead.”

  “I am able to take care of myself,” Fantaz said. “Please remain here. I am leaving by the back way.”

  Girland watched him walk behind the bar, nod to the barman, then disappear through a door, screened by a dirty red curtain.

  Girland finished his cigarette and his beer. Five minutes later, he saw Malik walk slowly past the café and glance in.

  Girland resisted the temptation to wave to him.

  Janine stood in the shade, waiting for the hotel bus to take her back to the hotel. She was surprised at her own calmness. She knew if Malik had the lightest suspicion that he had warned Girland he was following him, Malik would wipe her out with no more hesitation than killing a fly. But she had made up her mind now to side with Girland, and no threat of danger to herself would stop her.

  It came as a shock, however, when Malik’s black Cadillac pulled up by the kerb and she saw Malik sitting in the back seat.

  His green eyes regarded her as he beckoned. Her heart beating rapidly, she crossed the sidewalk as he opened the car door.

  “Get in,” he said curtly. “I’m going back now. I will drop you at your hotel.”

  “Thank you,” she said and settled herself beside him.

  “The N’Gor,” Malik said to the chauffeur who pulled away from the kerb.

  “What happened?” Janine asked. “Who was the fat man? Were you able to find out?”

  Malik stared straight in front of him, his thin lips in a tight line.

  “It was Fantaz: the contact. He left the café where they were by the back way. I lost him.”

  “And Girland?”

  “I left him there. He’s now talked to Fantaz. I don’t know if Fantaz has told him where Carey is hiding or not, but I intend to find out. Ivan is watching Fantaz’s house. When he returns sometime tonight we’ll have him. I have a job for you.” He looked suddenly at her and she felt herself flinch at the cold expression in his eyes.

  “Yes? What is it?” she asked, looking down at her bag, unable to meet those evil, probing eyes. She opened the bag and taking out a handkerchief, she dabbed her nose with it.

  “Tonight, you will bring Girland to the bungalow,” Malik said. “We will find out what he knows and then we will get rid of him.”

  Janine turned cold.

  “I don’t know if I shall see him tonight,” she said, trying to steady her voice. “He comes in at all hours. Besides, what am I to say to him? Why should he come out to the bungalow?”

  “I told you. Your friend Hilda is throwing a party. You want him to go with you. He’ll go.”

  “But if he’s late?”

  “He won’t be late,” Malik said. “He had nothing to do now but to wait until Fantaz is ready to take him to Carey. Fantaz will first make inquiries about him. Girland will come back to the hotel to wait. You will bring him to my place at eight o’clock tonight. Do you understand?”

  Janine nodded.

  “I understand.”

  “Don’t forget it is as important to you as it is to me that we find Carey. You don’t want to spend ten years in a French prison, do you?”

  Janine flinched.

  “No.”

  “Well then.”

  The car slowed down and stopped as the traffic lights turned to red. Neither Malik nor Janine noticed Jack Kerrnan sitting in his Simca at the far traffic lights, but Kerman saw them.

  He had been out exploring the country and was returning to Dakar. He stiffened at the sight of Janine and then his eyes went to Malik. He recognised the Cadillac. Was this the mysterious Dane? he wondered. He couldn’t see Malik well through the windscreen of the Cadillac.

  The lights changed to green and the Cadillac swept past him. With a shocking piece of driving, Kerman shot in front of two cars, drove too fast round the round-about and
went tearing down the Autoroute in pursuit of the Cadillac.

  Once in the straight, he saw the car, a half a kilometre ahead of him, moving very fast. He couldn’t hope to overtake it, but he managed to keep it in sight. After a few kilometres, the Cadillac was forced to slow down and finally stop to let a herd of goats, driven by three grinning Africans cross the Autoroute. This stop gave Kerman a chance to catch up and by the time the Cadillac was moving again he was just behind it.

  He was still behind it when the Cadillac swept up the drive into the hotel. He pulled into a parking bay and watched Janine leave the car and enter the hotel. Kerman got out of his car as the Cadillac pulled slowly away. He looked directly at Malik who glanced indifferently at him.

  A Dane? Kerman thought. Oh, no. This was no Dane. He had seen too many Russians in his time not to be able to spot one when he saw him. This silver blond giant was a Russian!

  Kerman ran up the steps and into the hotel. Janine was coming away from the reception desk, carrying her room key.

  “Hello, there,” Kerman said, coming up to her.

  Janine started and lost colour. Her smile was forced as she looked at him.

  “Where did you spring from?” she asked.

  “I sprang. I want to talk to you. Let’s go to the bar.”

  She went with him, her mind busy and uneasy. Had he seen her with Malik? she wondered. He must have done. Well, all right, she could cope with that situation. Had she aroused his suspicions? She knew she had lost colour at the sight of him and she knew too Kerman never missed a detail like that.

  They sat down at a quiet table and Kerman ordered a beer. She said it was a little early for her to drink. She settled for a cup of coffee.

  While they waited for the waiter to bring them their order, Kerman came straight to the point.

  “Who was the man you were with in the Caddy?”

  She had control of herself now and she looked mildly surprised.

  “My dear Jack, why so intense? I was waiting for the hotel bus and he kindly offered to give me a lift.”

  “Is that right?” Kerman paused while the waiter put his beer before him and set down the coffee things. When the waiter had gone, Kerman went on. “He introduced himself, didn’t he? What’s his name?”

  Janine’s face hardened.

  “You sound as if you were cross-examining me. I don’t think I like that.”

  Kerman smiled.

  “Nothing of the kind. I have an idea I have seen him before. He’s a Swede, isn’t he?”

  She looked thoughtfully at him. She mustn’t arouse his suspicions, she thought as she said, “I believe he is. He looks Swedish, doesn’t he? His name is Bergman and he is here for a few days on business.”

  Kerman drank some of his beer. She was lying, of course, he told himself. If she really hadn’t known this man it was obvious he would have introduced himself to her as Wilhelm Jenson. And as for looking like a Swede, she had enough experience to see that he had Russian written all over him.

  “Don’t you think he might be a Russian?” he asked.

  Janine’s eyes opened wide.

  “You know that never occurred to me … come to think of it, he could be, couldn’t he?”

  “Did he ask you any questions?”

  “Just the usual. Was I enjoying my stay? How long was I staying … that’s all.”

  Kerman thought for a moment, then shrugged.

  “The trouble with me is I’m too suspicious.” He laughed. “Well, let’s forget him. Any news?”

  “No.” She looked at her watch. “In a few minutes, I’m taking the bus to the airport. The four o’clock Paris plane is due in. Maybe Girland will be on it.”

  Kerman got to his feet.

  “Okay, then I’ll get going. Can I drive you to the airport?”

  “I want to go to my room first.” She stood up. “No, don’t wait for me, Jack. Keep in touch.”

  “You bet,” he said and leaving her he walked up the stairs and into the reception lobby.

  Girland had just come in. The two men passed each other, Girland going to the desk for his key, Kerman going out into the hot sunshine to his car. He stood by his car, thinking.

  He was now sure that his first suspicions were right. Janine was a double agent. She was working for Dorey and also for the Russians. Kerman had no doubt on whose side she would come down on under pressure. He must alert Dorey. Then he had a sudden idea. He walked away from his car and took up a position behind another parked car where he could see the entrance to the hotel. He waited.

  Five minutes crawled by and he saw the hotel bus pull up outside the hotel. Several people came from the hotel and buying tickets from the driver, got into the bus. The driver waited a further five minutes, then got into the bus, slammed the door and drove away.

  Kerman nodded to himself. So she wasn’t even watching the airport. Another nail in her pretty coffin. He returned to his car and drove fast to Dakar.

  Girland had driven back to the hotel, his mind puzzled and confused. He now had little doubt that Fantaz would contact him some time that night at the hotel. Fantaz would first get into touch with Carey to make certain Carey wanted to see Girland. Once he got the all clear he would stop being mysterious.

  But Girland was worried about Fantaz. This blond Russian had seen him and Fantaz wasn’t the kind of man you could miss on the streets. Girland only hoped that Fantaz hadn’t been bluffing when he said he could take care of himself.

  But what really puzzled Girland was the mysterious telephone call. Had it been Janine’s voice? If it had been Janine, then what was the explanation?

  Keep it simple, he told himself as he speeded along the Autoroute. She could have seen this Russian, recognised him and watched him follow me. Knowing him to be Russian she had become alarmed and had gone to a telephone and warned me. She must have seen me go into that café. That could be the explanation, but he wasn’t satisfied.

  Could Janine be an agent? He wondered. They had met so casually and so conveniently, the way a trained agent hooks up with a prospect. If she were an agent, who was she working for? Dorey?

  He was still puzzling over this as he collected his key, and then moving to the lift, he saw Janine coming from the bar.

  She looked pale and worried, and she gave him only a fleeting smile as she came up to him.

  “John, I must talk to you. Will you come to my room?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Something on your mind?”

  They entered the lift and he pressed the button to the seventh floor.

  “Yes. Let’s wait until we get to my room.”

  Leaving the lift on the seventh floor, they walked in silence down the long corridor and down the few steps that led to her room. They entered and she locked the door.

  She moved away from him, then turned and faced him.

  “I know who you are,” she said quietly, “you are Mark Girland.”

  Girland rubbed the back of his neck, frowning, then he took off his coat, undid the gun holster that was chafing his ribs and laying the gun and coat on the table, he sat down.

  “Well, go on. Let’s hear more about this before I do any talking.”

  “I am U 2260,” Janine said, dropping on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and opened her bag, took out a cigarette. “Mean anything to you?”

  Rossland had once told Girland that Dorey had a very special woman agent working for him.

  “She’s quite a girl from what I hear,” Rossland had said, with his leering grin. “I’ve never met her, but I’ve seen some of her reports. She’s known as U 2260.”

  “So you work for Dorey,” Girland said. “Yes, I’ve heard of you. Well, thanks for the telephone call.”

  Janine waited, but as Girland remained silent, his face expressionless, she said, “Do you know why I am here?”

  “It’s pretty obvious. Dorey sent you out here to keep an eye on me. Why have you suddenly decided to come into the open? You had me fooled.”

  “D
id I?” She lifted her shoulders. “You had me fooled too. I really thought you were John Gilchrist, an American business man.”

  Girland frowned.

  “I’m not with you. Didn’t Dorey send you out here to watch me?”

  “Dorey didn’t send me here at all. It’s a lot more complicated than that. When I told him I was going to Dakar, he was pleased, but it wasn’t his idea. He thinks you are dead.” She tapped ash off her cigarette. “You are working for Radnitz, aren’t you?”

  Girland smiled at her.

  “You’re doing the talking. I don’t have to say anything.”

  “Please, Mark, don’t be hostile,” she pleaded. “I’m not trying to trap you. I’ve been stupid enough to fall in love with you.”

  Girland kept his face expressionless, but he moved uneasily.

  “I’m sorry. I’m a bad person for any woman to fall in love with. I mean that, Janine. I had an idea that might be happening. I should have left you alone.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not blaming you. This sort of thing does happen. I thought I could sleep with you and get away with it as I’ve done often enough with other men. Why did you have to be such a perfect lover?”

  “Is that why you have fallen in love with me?”

  “That and other things.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. Do you want to go on with this, Janine? If I cleared out and stayed in Dakar would you have to tell Dorey you’ve spotted me?” Then he looked sharply at her. “Just how did you spot me?”

  “I was wondering when you were going to ask me that,” she said and hesitated. “Do you love me at all, Mark?”

  “I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t think I’m capable of loving any woman. You interest me. I often think of you. I have a feeling of affection towards you. I can’t go further than that.”

  “Well, at least, you are truthful.” Her smile was bitter. “You wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your days with me?”

  “I couldn’t spend the rest of my days with any woman. Look, Janine, do we have to go on with this? I hate hurting you, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  She dropped back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. Well, she knew the truth now, she thought, but it doesn’t make any difference except it hurts and hurts. I couldn’t let him walk into Malik’s trap. I couldn’t bear anything bad happening to him.