Hands of the Traitor (35 page)

"Ah, the truth, Matthieu. Yes, I will tell
the truth about the 'Einmans."

Zoé still sounded worried. "It is a
risk too big."

"If we wait any longer, Monsieur
Urquet will go home."

"He might refuse to see
us."

Matt ignored Zoé as he suddenly
realized that the building reminded him of the biscuit factory back
home, but on a much grander scale.

Zoé caught his expression. "You are
not listening," she admonished him. "I said Monsieur Urquet might
refuse to see us."

"I could march in there pretending to
be a DCI executive." He was onto plan Z by now.

"Executive?"

"Chemical safety check. A surprise
visit on the personal orders of the president," said Matt. "I'll
demand to see Urquet."

"And how will you explain Sophie and
me?"

"You can be the nurse, and Madame
Sophie can be ... the canary testing for pure air. I don't know,
but I'll think of something. I wouldn't mind having that young
priest with us. He was full of good ideas."

"Father Alban will still be riding
south on his bicycle to get away from Lacoste, I think."

"Maybe he got down here before us.
That Renault was slow." Some day he'd shake Father Alban by the
hand.

Zoé breathed in sharply. "Sophie, are
you ready?"

Matt started to feel uneasy. "Tell me,
do I look presentable enough to be a safety executive?"

Zoé shook her head.

Matt ignored her. There must be a
foolproof way to get an old woman inside. He ran his fingers
through his short hair and walked towards the Art Deco building. As
they approached the door the solution occurred to him. "Does old
Frank Heinman have a wife?"

Zoé looked puzzled. "I do not
know."

"Well, he has now." Matt nodded
towards Sophie. "Madame Sophie, do you speak English?"

"Not very well." She caught hold of
his arm. "Please, I am a little bit frightened."

Matt nodded.
"We're all a bit
frightened. Whatever anyone says to you, don't say a word. Keep
looking at me. When I nod, you nod. When I shake my head, you do
the same. And try to act frail and unsteady. All right?"

"If you say so, Matthieu, but I do not
want to be a nuisance."

"Believe me, Sophie, you
are
not
a nuisance."

The security guard looked surprised to
find three strangers approaching the wide entrance. He stood
defensively in the doorway.

Matt kept walking. "This is the
president's mother," he announced. "We've brought her from the
airport." He hoped his fake American accent was good
enough.

"You have some ID?" queried the
guard.

"Mrs. Heinman doesn't carry ID,"
retorted Matt. "She's not staff."

"Are you Mrs. Heinman?"

Matt nudged Sophie, and nodded. Sophie
copied vigorously.

"We have to escort Mrs. Heinman to Mr.
Urquet's office to wait for the president," said Matt. "She hasn't
been well."

The guard drew himself almost to
attention and looked at Matt closely. "Why, yes, but I need
identity." He sounded American, which was bad news. Matt knew his
attempt at the accent was dismal.

"Urquet knows Mrs. Heinman." Matt
could only hope that the guard came from some remote part of the
States and didn't know one accent from another. Or from
Mars.

"I'm not sure Mr. Urquet is
here."

"Of course Urquet is here," said Matt
quickly. "I was with the president when he spoke to him on the
phone not many minutes ago."

A second guard came from behind the
reception desk. "Trouble?"

"It's the president's mother come to
see Mr. Urquet. On the president's orders. She's not
well."

If she existed, neither of the guards
could have met Mrs. Heinman face to face. Matt watched the effects
of the magic word president on the second guard. He was a
creep.

"Maybe you should sit here in
reception, Mrs. Heinman. I'll phone Mr. Urquet and tell him to come
down."

Sophie took her cue from Matt and
shook her head.

"Then you'd better follow me, Mrs.
Heinman."

The second guard sounded amiable. Matt
could see a light at the far end of the corridor.

"I know we're expecting the president
and his father, but I didn't know about you, Mrs. Heinman." The
guard spoke loudly. "Did you come on the same flight?"

Matt nodded. And so did
Sophie.

"Good flight from New
Jersey?"

"Not bad," said Matt, deciding that he
had been on the plane as well. "Not bad at all." He must be careful
not to get too familiar with these men. The idea was to intimidate
them.

"Are the president and Mr. Heinman
senior on their way?"

Matt said nothing.

"Looks like Mr. Urquet is in, sir. Only we
don't always know the movements of senior staff. They come and go
to the car park through a secure private staircase."

"We'll see Urquet by ourselves," said
Matt, in a tone intended to dismiss the security man.

The guard hesitated. "If you say so,
only it sounds as if Mr. Urquet isn't alone."

Urquet with visitors was something
he'd not considered. Matt was unprepared, and let himself waver
just a moment. Perhaps the guard sensed it.

"Shall I knock, sir?"

The guard might be over-helpful, but
more likely he was now suspicious of his visitors. Probably it was
the hopeless American accent. The man reached forward and knocked
loudly on the door.

The sound of voices in the room ceased
abruptly.

Chapter
27

FRANK HEINMAN
looked up from the
table as one of his security guards pushed the door
open.

"The president's mother to see you,
Mr. Urquet."

Frank jumped at the guard's words, but
turned quickly to face the wall, motioning to Jason to do the
same.

"Are you Simon Urquet?" The voice was
that of an Englishman.

"And who are you?" said
Urquet.

Frank turned slowly to see a
fair-haired man standing with two women inside the open door. The
man spoke confidently.

"Mr. Urquet, I came to tell you that
the Heinmans are murderers, but I can see they're already
here."

Frank knew Urquet's ingenious plan was
falling apart. "You keep them here, Urquet. I'm going with Jason to
the airport."

The security man hovered uncertainly
while the Englishman jumped forward, his eyes blazing. "Just stay
still, all of you," he shouted angrily. "I'm Alec Rider's grandson.
You murdered my grandfather in hospital, Mr. Heinman. And this is
Sophie Boissant. You tried to kill her last night. You killed her
neighbor instead."

Frank felt his protests catching in
his throat. "I ... I don't know..."

"Well,
I
know," snapped Rider. "You came to France
to find a gas that DCI made in the war. Here, I've got some for
you."

Frank watched the man reach into his
pocket. This was the English PI who'd written to NATA; the PI who
had got Miller into hospital. And the fool had Berlitzan oil. How
the hell Rider had got it wasn't important -- but he could kill
them all.

"If you don't let us go, I'm going to
release it," Rider persisted. He looked mad enough to do it,
too.

Frank turned to the guard, his chest
tight with anxiety. "We can negotiate this alone. And I don't want
you pressing any alarms."

Urquet nodded to the guard who walked
reluctantly out of the room, pausing for one last look as he closed
the door.

Frank turned to Urquet. "Kill the
three of them."

"You're forgetting the poison gas,"
said Rider.

The English PI had become a nuisance.
Frank turned on him angrily. "You're not going to wreck DCI, you
young fool. If you understood anything about company loyalty, you'd
see just how much of a mistake you've made in coming
here."

Urquet slowly opened a drawer in his
desk. From it he produced a Walther P99. He kept it low on his lap,
holding the chunky grip tightly. Frank caught his eye.

"Okay, Urquet, give me the gun
and
I'll
shoot them if you're afraid to pull the
trigger."

Simon Urquet hesitated. "Not here,
Frank. Someone will hear the shots."

Jason pointed at the PI. "Rider's only
bluffing about the oil." Now that Urquet's gun was holding the
three intruders back, he came forward.

Frank still felt confused. "We have to
be sure."

Jason laughed. "I'm sure, you stupid
old man. I've got them all in my pocket."

Frank watched as his son produced
seven gleaming gold cylinders from his jacket. The Berlitzan oil
that had been destroyed! He'd promised. Hell, they were betraying
DCI from within now.

"Search the Englishman, Jason." Frank
tried to keep his composure. "We have to be sure."

Jason dropped the cylinders on the
desk and caught hold of Rider. He handled him with a deliberate
roughness, and found nothing. The PI had been bluffing. When he
came to the young woman his eyes beamed with pleasure as he ran his
hands up inside her dress.

She brought her knee up hard between
his legs.

It was an elementary move but it
caught Jason. Frank screwed up his face as his son collapsed across
the desktop in agony, knocking the gold cylinders to the floor.
"Shoot them, damn you, Urquet! Shoot them!"

Urquet kept the Walther pointed but
unfired. "You go, Frank. I can handle this. I'll phone through to
the airport and make sure you're met outside the
terminal."

Frank nodded. Simon Urquet was a good
company man. A man like this would stay loyal. "Make sure you kill
them, Urquet, or they'll bring DCI down in disgrace. I'll see
you're okay."

"Thanks, Frank, I appreciate
that."

Jason groped for his precious
cylinders, probably unable to see clearly through streaming eyes.
Frank tried to see if his son was successful in retrieving the
small cylinders, but it was dark under the desk. Then Jason stood
up and put his hands close to the young woman. "I hope you rot in
hell!"

Frank dragged his limping son through
the inner door that led down to the secure car park. As he closed
the door he hesitated. His corporate lawyer seemed to be talking to
the intruders in a tone that sounded almost
conciliatory.

"You'd better tell me what's going on,
before the guard comes back," he could hear Urquet
saying.

Frank flung the door open, unable to
contain his anger. "Don't question them, Urquet. Shoot them now.
They're a danger to the whole structure of DCI!"

Urquet nodded. "Just go, Frank. I know
what to do."

Frank Heinman sat with his head
resting in his hands as Jason drove the Volvo station wagon to
Geneva airport. The Rider family had turned DCI upside down with
their interference. Could Urquet really get them out of this
one?

"Wake up, you old fool," Jason snapped
as he brought the vehicle to a sudden halt with a screech of
brakes.

Frank shook his head. The Volvo would
be devastating evidence of their presence in northern France when
it was found here at Geneva airport, on yellow lines outside the
departure terminal. Maybe Urquet could do something about
it.

Jason jumped out and started
running.

"Where the hell are you going, boy?"
Frank called angrily. Without Jason he felt exposed.

Jason stopped. "I thought I saw ...
someone I knew. I'll be back in a moment."

Frank swore loudly as Jason hurried
across the lounge and started talking to two men.

"Are you Mr. H?"

The tap on his shoulder from behind
made him jump. Frank turned to see a man in white coveralls with an
airline insignia on the pocket.

"I'm taking you to the service area,
Mr. H. There's an airplane you have to meet."

Frank nodded. Mr. H? At least Urquet
had been diplomatic and not blabbed his mouth off to everyone until
the whole world knew of the plan. "My son's over there." He pointed
towards the departure desks, but Jason had gone. So had the two men
he'd been with.

"You have to be quick, Mr. H," urged
the man in white coveralls.

Frank looked round the airport lounge
in panic, desperately seeking Jason. "We'll have to wait," he
insisted. Where the hell had the boy got to?

*

URQUET MADE
his phone call to his contact
at the airport, confirming that the Heinmans were on their way.
Matt decided the lawyer looked uneasy as he sat at his desk with
the Walther in his lap.

The way down to the car park would
make a good escape route, taking them away from the front door and
the security guards. Urquet's keys were on the desk, on a Porsche
key ring. Almost certainly he had a car down there. Matt held on to
Zoé and wished he could communicate with her, to pass on his plan.
Then Sophie caught his eye and he sensed what he could only
describe as an immediate telepathic exchange with the old woman.
They had both glanced at the door just before their eyes
met.