The Corners of the Globe (27 page)

‘Looks like they’re all in one piece,’ he reported.

‘Pity,’ said Morahan.

‘Bloody hell,’ Hegg contributed eloquently.

‘Tomura’s not going to take this lying down, Mr Morahan,’ Sam cautioned.

Morahan nodded. ‘No, Sam, he’s not.’

Protesters were noisily confronting the gendarmerie and a squad of
poilus
in the Place de l’Alma, obliging Morahan to drive on to the Pont d’Iena before crossing the river and heading for the Majestic. As he sped up an eerily traffic-free Avenue Kléber, he announced a change of plan to Sam.

‘After what’s happened, they’ll lie in wait for you outside the hotel. So, we’ll drop Billy and the car off there and find you somewhere else to lie low. You’ll have to cope without Mr Twentyman today, Billy, OK?’

‘If you say so, sir.’

‘Don’t mention our run-in with the Japanese to anyone, will you?’

‘I’ll have your guts for garters if you do,’ Sam added, leaning close to Hegg’s ear for emphasis.

‘Where d’you want me to say you’ve got to, Mr Twentyman?’

‘Say you don’t know.’

‘But I don’t.’

‘There you are, then.’

Morahan pulled into the side of the road as the graceful frontage of the Majestic loomed ahead. ‘She’s all yours, Billy,’ he said. ‘Come on, Sam. Let’s get moving.’

‘Where are we going?’ Sam asked as he and Morahan set off on foot in the direction of the Arc de Triomphe.

‘My apartment. Tomura will assume you’re at the Majestic, so you’ll be safer at my place. Leave at six and make your way to the church of St-Germain l’Auxerrois. It faces the eastern entrance to the Louvre. Wait there until I pick you up. Soutine’s hideaway is close by. Oh, and help yourself to any food you find around the place, but lay off my bourbon, OK? You’ll need a clear head.’

‘I’m sober as a judge right now, Mr Morahan, and my head doesn’t seem very clear. What’ll you be doing while I’m holed up in your flat?’

‘I’ve got plenty to keep me busy, Sam. Don’t you worry about that.’

MALORY GREETED MORAHAN
at the offices of Ireton Associates with a meaningful roll of the eyes and a whispered warning. ‘Travis isn’t a happy
hombre
this morning, Schools. His plans for trading information with the German delegation have hit a snag. I didn’t realize you planned to move so quickly on that front.’

‘There was no sense delaying.’

‘No. And I’m glad you didn’t. But . . .’

‘I’ll ride out the storm. Don’t worry. And remember: you know nothing.’

Malory nodded. ‘I’ll remember.’

He left her then to her coffee and typewriter and went down the corridor to Ireton’s office.

‘There you are,’ Ireton said as Morahan entered. ‘What’s kept you?’

‘I called in at the Hôtel Dieu to see how Clissold is.’

‘Who?’

‘I told you about him yesterday, Travis. Max’s uncle. He’s in hospital recovering from a roughing-up by Noburo Tomura.’

‘Any proof of that?’

‘Not as such. He was blindfolded, but—’

‘So, he could have been held by Barbary pirates for all we know, couldn’t he?’

‘He was questioned about le Singe.’

‘Forget le Singe for a moment. I’ve lost my contact at the Hôtel des Réservoirs.’

‘The deputy manager?’

‘Yes. Blachette.’

Morahan exerted himself to look surprised. ‘What happened?’

‘The police tried to arrest him last night.’

‘
Tried?
’

‘Somehow he gave them the slip. They’re still looking for him. But he’s no use to me as a fugitive.’

‘I can see that.’

‘I don’t know how they rumbled him. I told him to be careful. I smell Carver in this, Schools. I’ve had him on my back ever since the Ennis affair and I’m sick to hell of it.’

‘It’s surely more likely to have been
le Deuxième Bureau
. They’re bound to be giving the Germans a lot of attention. Blachette must have given himself away somehow.’

‘The damn fool.’ Ireton poured himself a drink and waggled the bottle at Morahan. ‘Join me?’

‘A little early, I reckon.’

‘Yeah. But it’s May Day. And this sure is an emergency.’ Ireton slugged some of the whisky down and slumped despondently into his fireside chair.

‘If the police catch Blachette, can he give them anything that incriminates you?’

‘Nothing clinching. It’d be his word against mine. And you can alibi me if needs be.’

‘Sure.’

‘The problem is how to open up another channel of communication with the Krauts. We maybe have another week before they get the terms.’

‘It’s not worth the risk, Travis.’ Morahan sat down and looked seriously at his long-time partner. ‘
Le Deuxième Bureau
and Carver will be watching every move the Germans make. That goes for the hotel staff now too.’

‘But it’s a gold-plated opportunity.’

‘Find another.’

‘I’m trying to, God damn it.’ Petulance flashed in Ireton’s gaze. ‘It’d help if you delivered le Singe to the Japs. Then we’d be able to cement a lucrative relationship with one of the winners of this damn war.’

‘As far as that goes, doing someone else’s dirty work without knowing just how dirty it is can be a dangerous business.’

‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I got a whisper that our esteemed client, Noburo Tomura, has done some kind of a deal with the Chinese.’

Ireton shook his head. ‘Not possible. Wilson’s handed the Japs Shantung. That’s the only deal that’s been done. The Chinese got confirmation yesterday. The Japs have won. Tomura wouldn’t have anything to offer the Chinese. Besides, he does what his father tells him to do. And Count Tomura wouldn’t give them anything except his boot on their throats.’

‘Something’s wrong somewhere, Travis. There’s something we’re missing about why they’re so anxious to find le Singe.’

‘What
you’re
missing is le Singe, Schools. Stop asking yourself why Tomura wants him and—’

Ireton broke off at the sound of a commotion in the outer office. Malory’s voice was raised, insisting the visitor wait there. But heavy footfalls in the passage indicated they had paid her no heed.

Noburo Tomura burst into the room, his face flushed with anger. Malory followed him in.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Ireton. Mr Tomura insists on seeing you.’

‘Send the
furui tori
away, Ireton. We must talk as men.’ Tomura curled his lip as he looked at Morahan. ‘You are here, then. That is good.’

‘It’s all right, Malory,’ said Ireton, rising to his feet. ‘You can leave us.’

Malory withdrew, casting dark looks at Tomura as she went. Ireton walked across and closed the door behind her, then faced Tomura. Morahan stood up as well. The air was close in the room, electric with the tension of the moment.

‘What’s this about, Noburo?’ Ireton asked, smiling cautiously.

‘Ask your friend.’ Tomura pointed accusingly at Morahan.

‘We had a . . . disagreement . . . earlier this morning,’ Morahan said neutrally.

‘He stopped me questioning Twentyman. I suspect Twentyman knows where le Singe is. I suspect Morahan knows also. I hired you to find le Singe for me, Ireton. Now your man blocks my path. Explain, please.’

‘Schools?’ Ireton looked dubiously at Morahan.

Morahan shrugged. ‘I’m not prepared to be a party to murder and kidnapping. I know who murdered Soutine and I know who kidnapped Clissold. You, Noburo. You and no one else.’

‘You accuse
me
?’

‘I do,’ said Morahan, facing him down. ‘If I knew where le Singe was, I wouldn’t tell you.’

‘Do you know?’ asked Ireton.

‘We shouldn’t do business with this man, Travis. I can’t put it any plainer than that.’

‘We have a contract,’ said Tomura, rounding on Ireton. ‘You must honour it.’

Ireton stared at Morahan for a silent moment, then said, ‘Tell him everything you know about le Singe, Schools.’

Morahan’s only answer was a shake of the head.

‘
Tell him
.’

‘I occasionally have to explain to people that I work
with
you, Travis, not
for
you. I guess the time’s come to explain that to you as well, though I really shouldn’t need to.’

‘We’re finished together if you don’t come clean about le Singe right now.’

Morahan took his measure of Ireton for a few seconds, then nodded. ‘I reckon we’re finished, then.’

‘God damn it to hell, Schools. How can you do this to me?’

‘I warned you when we struck up our partnership there were lines I wouldn’t cross – things I wouldn’t do, however fat the fee.’

‘There’ll be no fees at all if we quibble about the use people make of the information we supply.’

‘There’s no danger you’ll quibble, Travis.’

‘Will you let him defy you?’ Tomura demanded.

‘I’ll find le Singe for you, Noburo,’ said Ireton. ‘You have my word.’

‘But Morahan knows already where he is.’

‘There’s nothing he can do for you about that, Noburo,’ said Morahan as he ambled past him to the window and looked out. ‘Ah, I see you’ve got fresh transport. New car, same crew. Sorry about the mess the last vehicle ended up in.’

‘You damaged their car?’ said Ireton.

‘No. I let them wreck it all on their own.’ From an underarm holster concealed by his jacket Morahan took a small revolver. He turned and pointed it at Tomura. ‘Come over here and signal for them to drive away, Noburo.’

‘What?’

‘Put the gun down, Schools,’ implored Ireton, panic skittering across his face.

‘I don’t want them waiting down there when I leave, Noburo,’ Schools went on calmly. ‘Signal for them to drive away.’

‘No,’ Tomura spat out. ‘I will not.’

‘I know you like inflicting pain, but I doubt you like experiencing it.’ Morahan pointed the gun at Tomura’s groin. ‘You do want to go on enjoying those
femmes jolies
, don’t you?’

‘For God’s sake, Schools,’ said Ireton. ‘Think what you’re doing.’

‘It’s for Noburo to think. About what I’m willing to do. And what he is.’

‘He’s Count Tomura’s son.’

‘And I’m the son of an Irish pauper. But we’re both capable of killing people. And you know that, don’t you, Noburo? So, what’s it to be?’

‘You will pay for this,’ said Tomura.

‘Just get over here.’

Reluctantly, Tomura walked to the window. Morahan pulled it open and moved back to make way for him, keeping the gun trained on him every step of the way.

Tomura leant out of the window and waved, then gave several violent dismissive gestures with his arm. Morahan stood behind him, watching as the men who had been waiting climbed obediently back in their car and, a moment later, drove away along Avenue de l’Opéra.

‘Good,’ said Morahan. ‘Close the window.’

Tomura closed it and turned to face him. Shame and fury were knotted on his sweat-sheened face. ‘You are a dead man,’ he blustered.

‘We all are, sooner or later. I’ll take my chances.’ Morahan strode to the door and paused, holstering his gun as he turned the handle. ‘Goodbye, Travis,’ he said, glancing at Ireton.

‘Go to hell.’

Morahan smiled. ‘I’ll see you there, no doubt.’

MAX WAS EARLY
for his appointment with Appleby and Veronica Underwood. He prowled the Assyrian and Sumerian halls of the British Museum for a reminiscent half-hour, recalling a visit with his father when he was no more than seven or eight.

The figures on the elaborately decorated Standard of Ur had fascinated him as a child: recognizable humans, young and old, male and female, fat and thin, plucking lyres or drinking wine or carrying wood. ‘Imagine, my boy,’ his father had said. ‘The artist who made this lived about four and a half thousand years ago.’

‘What was it like to be alive so long ago, Pa?’ Max had asked.

‘Oh, much the same as now. Not as comfortable, of course, but otherwise much the same.’

‘Who was the Queen of England then?’

‘There wasn’t one. There wasn’t an England to be queen of.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. And one day there won’t be again.’

‘Won’t England last for ever?’

‘No, my boy.’ A distant look had come into his father’s eyes then. He had patted Max on the head and ruffled his hair affectionately. ‘Nothing will.’

Well before three o’clock, Max was in the tea-room waiting impatiently. All he wanted now was to be on and doing. How long it would take Mrs Underwood to decipher the list he did not care to ask himself. He was confident Appleby had been able to secure her cooperation. That was all that mattered for the present.

But the present stretched into an empty hour. Appleby did not arrive, with or without Veronica Underwood. Max fretted, smoking cigarettes and drinking numerous cups of tea. Unable to bear sitting where he was any longer, he left the tea-room and stationed himself in the corridor outside.

Around 4.30 Max realized Appleby was not going to appear. The certainty formed like lead in his stomach. Something had happened. Something had gone wrong. Appleby was not coming.

But certainty was not enough for Max to call off his vigil. He stayed where he was, waiting and hoping – and eventually just waiting.

The day had passed with agonizing slowness for Sam as well, confined to Morahan’s apartment. Preparing himself a meal from the meagre ingredients in Morahan’s kitchen had not distracted him for long from gloomy contemplation of the fix he was in. They were staking more or less everything on being able to forge some kind of alliance with le Singe. But le Singe was by his very nature unknowable. He might not even come to meet them. Then they would certainly have nothing to use against Tomura.

He was relieved, nonetheless, when the time came to leave. However vulnerable he felt on the streets it was better to be moving than not.

The strike seemed to have ended. There were a few taxis about and some buses were running. He tried to board one heading south, but was rebuffed by a broad-bosomed conductress. ‘
Complet, monsieur
.’

It was not a long walk and he needed to stretch his legs, though he would have preferred for safety’s sake to be squeezed inside a crowded bus. He turned up his collar, kept his head down and marched on with as much nonchalance as he could muster.