by John Creasey
‘Dias’s man, yes.’
Palfrey looked astonished. ‘Do you know him?’
‘My friend,’ said Dominade, leaning forward and lowering his voice, ‘I worked in Paris during the occupation. I continued my work—and at some other work I worked overtime. Ha-ha! In my official capacity I sometimes assisted the Germans. So I sometimes knew when Señor Fernandez y Dias was in Paris on a special mission from South America. And I tell you, I met him and his man, Lozana, and I would not trust them—that much!’ Dominade snapped his fingers loudly. ‘That much!’ he repeated, and snapped them again. ‘But they have, you understand, the diplomatic privilege. There is little I can do.’
‘That little may be enough,’ said Palfrey. ‘I want to go into the Royale and have freedom of movement. That goes for my friends as well. I would not like to get into trouble with the management or with the police.’
Dominade’s eyes creased at the corners.
‘That is simple! The manager is a great friend of a friend of mine; it will be arranged—when?’
‘At once?’ murmured Palfrey, hopefully.
‘At once!’ cried Dominade, and snatched up the telephone. He talked in French with bewildering speed, replaced the telephone and picked up another, replaced that and waited, and before either of them spoke one of the telephone bells rang. Dominade listened, his eyes brightened and he plucked his beard. ‘My friend, all my thanks!’ he cried, and banged down the receiver. ‘M’sieu le Docteur, it is arranged. M’sieu de Morency will introduce you and your friends to the manager, that will then be secure for you.’
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ said Palfrey.
‘Nonsense!’ declared Dominade, ‘it is but a little, and too little. Ask more, now or at any other time.’ He stood up and offered his hand. ‘It has been a privilege to meet the great Dr. Palfrey.’
‘You’re very kind,’ murmured Palfrey.
Outside, de Morency was waiting for him. De Morency had known that the manager of the Royale was a friend of a friend of Dominade’s. It had all been arranged pleasantly, honour was satisfied, Dominade had been afforded an opportunity to express his thanks and also to condone unorthodoxy.
‘You get ideas, Sap,’ said de Morency, as they drove in a small car towards the Royale. ‘I am glad that you have broken away from those dusty consulting-rooms.’
‘Oh, they weren’t dusty,’ said Palfrey, absently.
He did not talk much on the journey, nor when he was taken into the hotel and, at the first opportunity, introduced to the manager, whose name he promptly forgot. De Morency was to introduce Erikson and Bruton a little later. Drusilla was at the Bristol for today, Palfrey said, there was certainly nothing she could usefully do. Stefan was with her. For such a job as he had in mind the big Russian would be too conspicuous.
He wanted, of course, to search Lozana’s room at the Royale.
He had no lingering doubts about Dias and Lozana. Pedro’s death that morning, in a car accident, would have convinced him, even if he had not already been reasonably certain that Dias and Lozana were in active opposition to him. He had not worried Pedro a great deal, but asked a few leading questions, feeling sure that Pedro would hurry to tell Lozana. The best had happened, for Pedro had gone in person, instead of telephoning. There was nothing remarkable in the fact that Lozana had straightway gone to the Embassy, but it was worth noting.
Lozana, he learned, was in his room, but had ordered a table for two. He had not said who his guest was to be, but had hinted that he would be a personage of some importance.
‘Oh,’ said Palfrey, and looked at the manager whose name he could not remember. ‘Could that table be laid for three?’
‘But, m’sieu, it is ordered for two.’
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey. ‘Just a little mistake. Do you think you could arrange it?’
I will, since I am asked by such a good friend to help you,’ said the manager, ‘but it is a most unusual thing, and I would not do it for many people.’
‘Three,’ said Palfrey.
‘Three, m’sieu.’
Palfrey sauntered into the main lounge. It was divided by a passage connecting the front hall with the restaurant, and was like a Tower of Babel. Paris fashions remained varied and distinguished, and here too Paris looked remarkably normal. Palfrey hid himself behind a palm, smoked cigarettes and drank coffee, until he was joined by Erikson and Bruton, who came with de Morency. He did not think he was being watched by anyone that morning, and no one had shown any particular interest in any of them.
‘Now what, O Chief?’ asked Bruton, lazily.
‘You and Neil will have a shot at Lozana’s room when he’s at lunch,’ said Palfrey, ‘and Raoul will keep his eyes open and warn you if there is trouble in the offing. You know what we’re looking for. Addresses in Europe, particularly of Germans, anything that might help us.’
‘What are you going to do?’
Palfrey twisted some strands of hair about his forefinger.
‘I am going to tell Dias what we’re looking for,’ he said, and so surprised them that not one of them asked him whether he were mad – at first. Then all three declared that he was, but he persuaded them to change their minds, or at least suspend judgement.
He was alone when Dias arrived with much ceremony. Dias was accompanied by his two attendants, one of whom stood near one door, the second by the other door of the dining-room. He looked magnificent. Lozana was somewhat chastened, Palfrey thought, as he observed them from his point of vantage. He saw Dias look down at the table, and then stare at Lozana. Words passed. Dias pointed to the places laid – three stabs of his finger towards three places. Lozana shook his head. He looked about him, as if for a waiter to rectify the mistake, and then he saw Palfrey, who advanced smilingly towards him.
Dias also saw him, and immediately radiated good-humour. He took Palfrey’s hand in both of his.
‘What a happy chance, Dr. Palfrey! By mistake a third place was laid at my table’ – he did not say Lozana’s table – ‘and here, by remarkable coincidence, you are able to take it. I beg of you to find time to lunch with me. And with Señor Lozana. I wish only that your wife were here, but—but perhaps she is, Doctor?’
‘No,’ said Palfrey. ‘She has gone with my friends to Versailles. To see the gardens.’ He smiled as he sat down, and Dias beamed his satisfaction. Lozana looked wary, but Dias was always wary, no matter how he looked. ‘I invited myself,’ Palfrey added.
‘I beg your pardon,’ said Dias.
‘The third place,’ said Palfrey. ‘I suggested it.’
‘Then that is remarkably kind of you,’ said Dias. ‘You remembered my invitation, and to accept it in such a practical fashion—I am full of admiration, Doctor!’
‘Thanks,’ smiled Palfrey.
‘We shall have champagne!’ declared Dias.
‘The wine of the country,’ said Palfrey. ‘Why not? And we have much to celebrate, haven’t we?’
‘Such a meeting is worthy of celebration,’ agreed Dias.
‘I didn’t quite mean that,’ said Palfrey.
Dias sat back and looked at him. Lozana seemed on edge, and was sitting upright. The head waiter came and was obsequious, which showed how effectively Dias hypnotised such personages. Other waiters flowed towards them and placed plates in front of them, champagne glasses, the silvered bucket of ice containing a dusty bottle. All this was done while the three men sat in silence.
At last Dias said: ‘What did you quite mean, Dr. Palfrey?’
‘Our mission,’ said Palfrey, and speared a tiny sardine, a wafer of olive and a tiny square of potato covered with a white sauce.
‘Mission?’ echoed Dias, in a husky voice.
‘That’s right,’ said Palfrey. ‘The search for the radium.’
‘Ra-dium,’ sighed Dias.
‘Of course,’ said Palfrey, after eating with relish. ‘I wish you’d told me why you were so interested in me before. It’s no secret. Van Doorn came and told me t
hat there is radium hidden in Germany, and I want to find it. That’s quite straightforward. Apparently you want it. Need we fight about it?’
‘Fight?’ breathed Dias.
‘After all,’ said Palfrey, ‘this isn’t England. And I am here and I’ve started. You didn’t kill Charles Lumsden and you didn’t kill me and my friends last evening. On the whole, you aren’t having a very good time, are you? As I say, need we fight?’
After a long, breathless pause, while Palfrey speared more delicacies from among his hors-d’oeuvres, Dias said: ‘Are you suggesting that we should work together, Doctor?’
Palfrey laughed; Lozana gasped; Dias stared fixedly at Palfrey, and gradually his cheeks and his jowl darkened, for he realised what he had done, he had told Palfrey what Palfrey wanted to know.
‘Not exactly,’ said Palfrey. ‘I’m suggesting that you should drop out, before you get hurt. But your plate, Excellency, it is nearly full. Eat up!’
Chapter Eleven
Palfrey is Ingenuous
It could not be said that Dias ate with gusto, but he did show some interest, in a contemplative fashion, in his food. Lozana, who at first had looked as if he were suffering from seasickness, suddenly attacked his food savagely. Plates came and went. Champagne ebbed and flowed. It had no noticeable effect on Dias’s spirits, and Lozana might as well have been drinking Vichy water for all the exhilaration he showed. Only Palfrey seemed to benefit from the sparkling, bubbling champagne.
‘You are talking absolute nonsense, Doctor,’ declared Dias, much more himself. There was even a faint smile on his small red lips.
‘Oh yes,’ said Palfrey, ‘and I’m the first to admit it. It’s the champagne. But in my chitter-chatter there may be a grain or two of common sense. That’s what you ought to pick out. You probably see the danger signals. Here is your time to retreat or else to declare further war.’
Dias did not speak, but he smiled more freely.
‘No?’ murmured Palfrey, sadly. ‘That’s a pity. But you know your own motives best. What’s your price? Would half a million pounds interest you?’
Dias gaped.
‘So it would,’ said Palfrey. ‘I wish I had half as much, it would be worth it. Still, I haven’t. Messrs. Bane and Anderson might have, don’t you think? Old Josh could even put it up himself.’
He glanced swiftly at Lozana, for Dias had steeled himself and was not likely to give away much information by his expression. Lozana, on the other hand, had been left out of the conversation for so long that he probably had less control over his face. He had. He looked dumbfounded.
‘Well, well!’ said Palfrey. ‘Railways and ships run by radium!’
Dias half rose from his chair, and crashed his clenched fist on the table. A glass sprang into the air and fell, a plate was shaken from the table, knives and forks clattered to the floor. People stopped talking and turned to stare at him, and waiters came hurrying. Dias sank back in his chair, now looking unmoved. The outburst had done him good, he had been repressing his feelings far more than was good for him. Now he sat back while the mess was cleared up, watching Palfrey closely all the time.
A waiter brought ice cream.
‘M’m, good,’ said Palfrey. ‘Well, what are we going to do?’
‘I do not think that I have ever listened to so much nonsense in my life,’ said Dias. ‘I do not understand what you have been talking about. Apparently you are looking for some radium. I am not interested in radium. It has no effect on me.’
‘But it might on the President’s lady,’ murmured Palfrey.
‘You choose to joke about a matter of delicacy and importance,’ said Dias. ‘I cannot prevent you. The English have appalling manners at all times, and I am not surprised at anything. I warn you, Dr. Palfrey, that I am not a man to be ridiculed. I am a person of some importance.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ said Palfrey. ‘I don’t rate you very high. All right, it’s war. Up to now I have been purely on the defensive. From now on, attack!’ He pushed his chair back, stood up, and bowed. ‘Thank you, Excellency, for a most enjoyable lunch!’ He nodded to Lozana and sauntered off.
Lozana and Dias did not speak after he had gone, but got up and stalked out, followed by the two attendants. Palfrey watched them from the lounge. Bruton was by his side.
‘You’ve given them plenty to think about,’ said Bruton, cheerfully. ‘I like the look on Dias’s face. Full of the milk of human kindness!’ There was an air of repressed excitement about the little American. ‘How did it go?’ he asked.
‘Well, I hope,’ said Palfrey, ‘but Dias is deeper than he sometimes looks. What about you?’
Bruton winked.
‘Did you get something?’ Palfrey asked, with quickening interest. He had not thought it likely that the others would find anything of particular interest in Lozana’s room; the man was not likely to leave important papers there.
‘Dr. Palfrey,’ said Bruton, ‘I think we got enough to satisfy you. Names and addresses in a small book in a false bottom of Lozana’s suit-case—and what a suit-case!’ He turned and went on talking in undertones as they went towards the entrance. ‘We left the book there after copying the names and addresses. One was yours, Sap!’
‘Oh,’ said Palfrey, surprised.
‘One,’ said Bruton, ‘was Papa Giraud’s.’
‘One of us ought to be insulted,’ said Palfrey.
‘Another was of a M’sieu Garon, of the Rue de Lui,’ said Bruton, in high fettle, ‘and there were three others—one in Antwerp, one in Stockholm, and one in Berlin. The last name in the book,’ added Bruton, ‘is Colonel Baron van Kriess. They don’t call them colonels now, do they? Au revoir to Herr Obersts, just plain Herrs. Not bad, Sap?’
‘Very good,’ said Palfrey.
‘And extremely secret,’ said Bruton, ‘or the book wouldn’t have been tucked away so safely. There was another thing. We didn’t bring it; we thought it better that Lozana should not know we’d paid a visit.’
‘Rightly,’ said Palfrey. ‘What was it?’
‘A curious thing. Remember Charles Lumsden’s story of the black masks?’
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey. ‘But they would be too large to go in a concealed bottom of a suit-case.’
‘They were, but what I saw wasn’t,’ said Bruton. ‘Neil made a sketch of it, and he wasn’t far out in size. It’s a miniature mask, about the size of a shilling piece. A bauble to go on a watch-chain, maybe.’ Seeing Palfrey’s thoughtful expression, he added: ‘We could go back for it.’
‘No,’ said Palfrey. ‘I’ve upset Dias and Lozana enough for one day. It is better to leave it. I ought to get to Rotterdam, the delay is worrying me,’ said Palfrey. ‘This started with van Doorn, and his friends or his family might know more about it. Stefan and ’Silla had better come with me, while you and the others follow by road, after a preliminary visit to 17 Rue de Lui.’ He pulled at his hair.
‘And some more,’ said Bruton. ‘We’re to watch Dias and Lozana.’
‘Well, you could slide that in,’ said Palfrey, ‘Garon, Garon, Garon,’ he repeated. ‘The name’s familiar. I seem to know it well. Have you heard it before?’
‘I’ve seen the name,’ said Bruton.
‘Where?’
‘Over shops,’ said Bruton, and he was suddenly intent. ‘Giraud was in Black Market stuff, and Garon et Cie is a multiple firm of food stores, Sap. Can it be that Garon?’
‘Where’s the Rue de Lui?’
‘I’ll find out,’ said Bruton, and went to the reception desk. He was there for some time, and came back with the information that M. Pierre Garon, of 17 Rue de Lui, was the owner of the chain of food stores, and that the Rue de Lui was a short thoroughfare off the Champs Elysées. The houses there were large; it was a street of the wealthy.
‘We’ll put Raoul on to this, for a start,’ said Palfrey. ‘Where is he?’
‘Drinking bubbly, probably,’ said Bruton.
De Morency was outside a caf
é near the .hotel. Erikson, he said, had left in the wake of Dias. He wanted to know what Palfrey had done to make the South American look so much like death. Palfrey gave him a brief outline, and before de Morency could comment, added: ‘But the others have done better with these names and addresses. What do you know about Pierre Garon, of the Rue de Lui?’
De Morency raised his eyebrows, wrinkled his nose, and struck an attitude.
‘Stinking fish,’ he said.
‘How high does he stink?’ asked Bruton.
‘Very high,’ said de Morency. ‘I cannot make up my mind about him, Sap. He is tolerated, no more. He has genius for organisation, and yet—it would not surprise me if one day he is arrested and proved to be one of the worst collaborators. He is in great trouble now because his shops are often unable to supply rationed goods. It is suggested that he sells them on the Black Market. He has, of course, one of the biggest companies in Paris—in Western France, one could say. His shops are everywhere. Only two days ago I saw a mob break into one, and they did not leave much on the shelves—or many of the shelves,’ he added, with a grimace.
‘Dias knows him,’ Palfrey said.
‘I am not surprised,’ said de Morency, ‘but he also knows us.’
It was after dark when de Morency, Bruton and Erikson went to reconnoitre the house of M. Pierre Garon. A quarter of an hour after they had left, there was a telephone call for Palfrey.
It was de Morency, and he wasted no time.
‘Bring Stefan here, quickly,’ he said, and rang off without giving Palfrey a chance to ask questions.
‘You stay here,’ Palfrey said to Drusilla. ‘Please!’
She watched him and Stefan hurry out.
It was only ten minutes’ walk to the Rue de Lui. They were not more than half-way there before they were aware of excitement among the people passing them, people thronging the sidewalks and the roadway, and most of them going in one direction. Fire-engines were clanging on their way through the crowds, and by the time they were a few hundred yards from the Rue de Lui they could see the red glow of a fire not far off.
