The Timid Traitor (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 10)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  He grinned up at me and then stood up. Putting his hand on my shoulder, he said, "Always happy to help, son."

  We walked down the aisle. Sam looked up with a slightly leering grin. Annie had a small smile on her face as she looked out the window. Rosa was beaming as we passed her. She winked at me.

  Once we were in the bedroom, I closed the door and locked it.

  "What's going on, Nick?" Carter was frowning.

  "There were Bureau agents in that terminal."

  "How do you know?"

  "Their shoes."

  He nodded. We'd been through that before.

  I said, "I told one of them we were going to Miami."

  "How'd they know we were here?"

  "We have a snitch."

  "Who?"

  "Either Sam or Annie."

  He shook his head. "I don't believe it."

  "Me neither. But it's the only possibility. Captain Morris told me that he announced where we were going at the hotel and that both Sam and Annie made phone calls before they left."

  Carter sighed. "Damn."

  "I know."

  He sat down on the bed and pulled me down next to him. Putting his arm over my shoulder, he said, "They both have ties to communism. The Bureau could be leveraging that."

  I snorted. "In Sam's case, I think he only went to Moscow for the sex."

  "We only have his word."

  "True."

  We sat there for a long moment.

  Carter finally asked, "What do we do?"

  "I wish to hell that Mike was here. He'd know how to handle this. He was always good with interrogation."

  Carter squeezed me tightly. "I have an idea. But you're not gonna like it."

  . . .

  "Sam?"

  The man looked up from his seat. I stood in the back and watched apprehensively as Carter worked his magic.

  "Nick and I wanted to talk to you about another case. You have a minute?"

  "Sure." With that, he stood up and followed Carter. I fell in line once they'd passed. As we walked into the bedroom, I closed the door and locked it behind me. I looked at my watch. We only had fifteen minutes before I had to let Captain Morris know where to go.

  As I watched, Carter pushed Sam forward from where he stood.

  "Hey!"

  Carter started to pull off his coat. "You told us when we were ready—"

  As we'd talked about, I said, "Wait!"

  Carter shook his head. "Sorry, Boss. You had your chance to say no." He started loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves.

  Poor Sam. His eyes were beginning to bulge, and they weren't the only part of his anatomy that was responding to the little show.

  "What do you want from me?" I asked with a whine in my voice.

  For a split second, Sam looked over at me as if he wasn't buying it.

  I sighed. "It's been almost eight years and I don't know, Carter." My tone of voice was more in the range of disappointment.

  To my surprise, Sam walked over to me and took my hand. "I think you'll like it, Nick." His American accent was fading and what I'd come to recognize as his natural speaking voice was emerging.

  I shook my head. That wasn't acting. I was already hating what we were doing, but we didn't have much time.

  Carter said, "Tell you what, Nick. Let's play a game." By that time, his tie was off and his sleeves were rolled up. "Let's play Truth or Dare."

  Sam smiled.

  I shook my head. "No."

  Carter smiled down at Sam. "Fine. If he doesn't wanna play, how about you and me?" As he said that, I could see him flexing his biceps and triceps under his shirt.

  Sam had a thing for tall muscle guys just like I did. He licked his lips and nodded. "Sure."

  "You go first."

  Sam asked, "Truth or dare?"

  Carter smiled. "Dare."

  "Take off your shirt."

  Carter smiled and complied. His undershirt was a tight white tank. All the blond hairs on his chest were trying to escape at the edges. As he stood there, he flexed and then broke into a pose, something I'd never seen him do before.

  Sam nodded. He seemed stunned. Carter was stunning, but I realized Sam might not have been getting any lately based on what I'd found him and Ike doing at the office. That was probably having more of an effect on him than Carter's well-defined muscles.

  "You go." That was Sam.

  "Truth or dare?"

  "Truth," was Sam's greedy reply.

  I could tell it was going to be awful and easy, all at once. And I already felt bad. I slowly moved to make sure I was between Sam and the door.

  Carter smiled. It was his fake smile, something that I very rarely saw. "Did you tip off the F.B.I. about our going to Mexico City?"

  Sam stopped. His mouth dropped open and his face turned beet red. He began to talk in some language and it didn't sound like anything very nice. Finally, he switched to English as Carter began to put his shirt back on.

  "How could you do this?"

  I looked at Carter and nodded. The worst part was coming.

  "Sam?"

  He turned and glared at me. "What?"

  "If it wasn't you, it was Annie."

  He blinked several times and then, in a voice like death, asked, "How do you know?"

  "There were agents at the terminal in Mexico City. Did you see their shoes?"

  He blinked again, nodded slowly, and closed his eyes. As he did, tears began to roll down. I wanted to run over to him and embrace him but that would have been even more awful.

  "Of course. It was her." He pulled out his handkerchief and ran it over his face. "It's been her all along. How could I have not seen it?"

  I said, "I know you hate both of us right now but we had to do this. And I have to go talk to the captain. You can slug me when I get back."

  . . .

  When I came back into the bedroom, Sam was sitting on the bed next to Carter who had his big arm around the man's broad shoulders. Carter was still in his shirt sleeves.

  I walked over and knelt in front of Sam. I took his calloused right hand in both of mine. "Did Carter explain everything?"

  Sam sighed. "Yeah."

  I asked, "Can you ever forgive us?"

  Sam looked down at me for a long moment. He nodded. "Yeah. I can." He pulled his hand out of mine and ran it over my head affectionately. He smiled. I smiled back and, as I did, I had a sudden feeling I should move.

  But, before I could, he boxed me on the left ear with his right fist and said, "Don't ever fuck with me again, Nick Williams." I fell back in surprise. Standing up, he turned and spat on Carter. With that, he banged open the cabin door and was gone.

  Carter grimly wiped his face with his handkerchief. Then he got down on the floor next to me and looked at my head. He kissed my ear and said, "That hurt?"

  I shook my head. "Not as much as it should have. That's another talent of his. Pulling punches."

  . . .

  As we were coming in for a landing, I heard Annie ask Sam, "Is this Havana?"

  He coldly replied, "Ask Nick."

  She said something to him in French. He didn't respond.

  I waited for her to say something to me but she didn't.

  The plane came to a stop near a small outbuilding of some sort, and Captain Morris cut the engines. After a minute or two, he emerged from the cockpit and announced, "We had to land in Nassau in The Bahamas."

  He walked over and stood next to Annie. "Mrs. Deladier?"

  "Yes?"

  "As the captain of this ship, I have to warn you that I consider you to be under arrest."

  Her face turned pink. "Please explain yourself."

  I walked up and stood next to the captain. "We know that you've been tipping off the F.B.I. about our movements."

  Her face crumpled. "You don't understand."

  I nodded. "I'm sure I do. They threatened to deport you if you didn't cooperate."

  She shook her head. "No. That wasn't it."

&nb
sp; I crossed my arms. "Then, what was it?"

  "They threatened to deport Jean-Pierre. If he returned to France, it would've killed him. You saw how fragile he is. A burgled room nearly killed him right then."

  "How did you know his room had been ransacked?" I looked over at Sam whose face was stony.

  "Well, Sam must have told me."

  "I did not and you know it."

  "Did you ransack his room?" I asked.

  "No, I didn't."

  "Then how'd you know?"

  She blinked. "I paid someone to do it. I wanted to frighten Jean-Pierre."

  "Why?"

  "Because he was going to go to the newspapers about how the F.B.I. was using me."

  "And you didn't want him to?"

  She shook her head. "I pleaded with him not to. But he had made up his mind. He is very stubborn."

  Sam said, "You were always in love with him, weren't you?"

  She nodded.

  "And you weren't a communist at all, were you?" The contempt in his voice was surprising.

  She shook her head.

  "Who were you working for when you joined the party?" he asked.

  "Action française."

  Sam sputtered in disbelief.

  "What's that?" asked Carter. He was standing behind me and had his hand on my shoulder.

  Sam said, "It was the biggest of the fascist groups in France in the 20s and 30s."

  Indignant, Annie said, "We were not fascists. We were royalists."

  Sam rolled his eyes and said something in French. Annie turned and spat at him from her seat.

  Sam pressed on. "What was your goal in infiltrating the party?"

  She shrugged. "Destabilization."

  "Why did you really drop out?"

  She said something in French.

  "What was that?" asked the captain.

  Sam looked up. "It was an overthrow of the leftist French government in 1934."

  "They were common thugs," added Annie.

  He shook his head. "But you told me it was because of the show trials."

  She shrugged.

  "What else have you been lying about?" he asked.

  She didn't reply.

  Captain Morris looked at his watch. "What is taking those stairs so long? Excuse me." He turned and walked forward to the cockpit.

  Sam turned in his seat and looked right at Annie. "Why did your neighbors attack you after the liberation?"

  She shrugged again. "Like I said. It was because of Jean-Pierre."

  Suddenly, I could see a very different version of the story. I asked, "Isn't it really true that you were a collaborator during the occupation?"

  Her eyes widened and she turned pale. "No. Of course not."

  I pressed on. "Did you know that Jean-Pierre only went to Vichy in order to protect you from deportation as a communist?"

  Her lips quivered. "No. That's not possible."

  I nodded. "That's what he told us. He didn't tell you?"

  She shook her head. "He would never talk about that time."

  Sam exploded. "That means you were with him since he arrived in San Francisco." He stood up and pointed at her. "You told me he was scaring you. But you and he. You were together in this."

  She shook her head and turned to look out the window. "Non. He knows only that the F.B.I. asked me to go to Nick and try to entrap him by claiming I would kill Jean-Pierre if they found him." She sighed. "They didn't know that Nick would send you to keep watch on me. That is why I hired the men to burgle his apartment. I wanted you to think there was someone out to hurt Jean-Pierre and that he needed protection, not me." Looking up at me, she added, "And it worked. Too well, unfortunately."

  I nodded.

  Turning back to Sam, she said, "I wanted you to lose interest. For your good. But when that didn't happen, I told the F.B.I. that I quit. That's when I asked to leave the country because I knew they would make things worse." Looking up at me, she added one last thing. "I will give you the names of the agents I worked with. Somehow I think they were working alone. There were only ever three of them."

  I nodded and pulled out my notebook and pencil. Handing it to her, I said, "Write their names down and any other information you have."

  She scribbled for a moment and then handed it back. On the page were three names I didn't recognize and a phone number. I put the notebook away and thought for a moment.

  "What were the agents after yesterday?"

  "They told me to take you and Mr. Jones to the hospital so that you would be gone when they arrive. I do not know what they wanted."

  I nodded. I decided to ask a question that had been bouncing around in my head for a while. "Have you slept with your husband since he arrived?"

  She shook her head.

  "So you haven't seen the scars?" asked Sam.

  I wondered if he was going to tell her. It felt like everyone on the plane was holding their breath, even the ones who didn't know what Sam was leading up.

  She looked at him. "What scars?"

  From behind me, Carter said, "The ones on his chest and back that the Germans gave him when they tortured him."

  She burst into tears.

  . . .

  "Consolidated Security."

  "Hi, doll."

  "Nick! Where are you?"

  "We're in The Bahamas."

  "How is it there?"

  "Very nice. This is the place to go in the winter. Look, doll. I need you to do a couple of things for me."

  "Sure. But I have some news for you."

  "What?"

  "That Razzie. He died last night. His ticker finally gave out on him."

  I sighed. "OK. Anything else?"

  "Mike really wants to talk to you."

  "Fine." I thought for a moment and realized my initial plan wasn't going to work if Razzie was dead. I sighed into the phone. "Lemme give you some names and a phone number. These are rogue Bureau agents. Be sure to give 'em to Mike." I read them off and listened as she repeated them back to me.

  "That Kincaid. That's the one who showed his badge yesterday."

  I sighed. "Good to know. One other thing. Have Robert send O'Reilly a radiogram to bring the Captain back to San Francisco."

  "Will do."

  "Thanks, doll."

  . . .

  "Nick?"

  "Hi, Mike."

  "How are The Bahamas?"

  "Warm. So what's up?"

  "Ike's been arrested by the F.B.I."

  "For what?"

  "Interstate prostitution. Illegal use of the mails. Conspiracy to commit fraud."

  "Damn."

  "Yeah."

  "Is Kenneth involved?"

  "Sure. Ike will be arraigned tomorrow morning at the federal courthouse. Kenneth has someone already talking to him."

  I took a moment to digest the news. First Razzie, then Ike. "So, has the Bureau been around the office today?"

  "No. Wilcox and I are pretty sure they were just trying to rattle you. They didn't grab anything. The files were in transit. Marnie told you how she took care of the safe, right?"

  I replied, "Yeah. What do you think they were looking for? I think it was the movie."

  "That's my guess. Where is it now?"

  "With me."

  Mike sighed. "What are you going to do with it?"

  "I dunno. Speaking of the movie, do you know about Harvey Reynolds and Peter Markinson from L.A.?"

  "No."

  I briefly explained what happened when we caught Reynolds at the City of Paris the day before. I also told him how Reynolds and Markinson were holed up in Las Vegas. "I think it might be a good idea to send Walter out there for the day to sit down and interview them. Reynolds has a lot of dirt on all sorts of people, including all of us. Have him take some cash to pay them both off."

  "OK. Does Marnie have a way to contact them?"

  "Yeah, Carter gave it to her." I took a deep breath. "And we found a mole."

  "A mole?"

  "Yeah. I don't th
ink they were bugging our phones. You already checked, right?"

  "Sure did. Otherwise, I'd be calling you from The Hangover Club." They were down the street from the office and let us use their phone when we needed to. "How'd you know?"

  "Well, it had to be that or they had a snitch. And we just found her."

  "Her?"

  I quickly explained about Annie. I told him I gave the Bureau names and phone number to Marnie. I also gave him a brief overview of our unorthodox interrogation style. He chuckled as I told him how Sam had reacted.

  "Don't laugh, Mike. I feel awful."

  "Well, at least he got in a good punch. You don't think he's gonna quit on us, do you?"

  "I hope not. He's one of the best."

  "That he is."

  There was a long pause on the line. I could hear the faint sound of other voices in the background. I wasn't sure if that was at the bar or just some sort of interference on the line.

  Mike asked, "So, what's your next move?"

  "We were gonna fly to Bordeaux, but I don't know now. Did Marnie tell you that Razzie died?"

  "Yeah."

  "Between that and Ike being arrested, I'm not sure what we'll do. If you don't hear from me in the next hour or so that means we're off to France. If Sam decides to fly back to San Francisco from here, I'll tell him to call you before he leaves."

  "Fair enough. And, Nick?"

  "What?"

  "Don't take it too hard."

  "What?"

  "About Sam. You had to do what you had to do, and you didn't have a lot of time. You've been a private dick long enough to know that's what comes with the job, but I just wanna remind you that Carter loves you and I love you and Marnie and Lettie and so on. Even your evil old man. You're still tops in our book."

  I laughed. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

  "Well, I do."

  "Do what?"

  "Love you."

  "And I love you, too, you big monster."

  Chapter 18

  Aboard The Laconic Lumberjack in the air

  Thursday, January 20, 1955

  That afternoon

  After I'd broken the news to both Annie and Sam, I'd given them ten minutes to decide whether to go with us or not. We were taking Rosa to France, no matter what.

  Both of them decided to come with us. Annie's way of dealing with the news of her husband's death was to lock herself in one of the small cabins between the back bedroom and the galley. She'd taken a bottle of rum with her that she'd asked Carter to get for her. We wouldn't let her get off the plane after we'd been cleared by the Bahamian authorities.