A Woman Involved. John Davis Gordon
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from scratch. Asking round the underworld. Attracting attention. Here, at least we know of José Luis.’
She sighed. ‘Oh God, what have I got you into?’
‘So far it’s been plain sailing. A laugh-a-minute. But if it isn’t in New York? Then, it’s Switzerland. We won’t be able to do it without false passports. And competent people helping us.’
‘Like who?’
He took a breath. ‘You’ve got to get a very respectable lawyer. And get your story down on affidavit.’ He held up a hand to silence her. ‘As much as you need to tell. So that if we’re caught, we’ve got somebody who can leap into action on our behalf. Habeas corpus, or whatever it’s called. Lawyers are bound to secrecy, Anna –’
‘Jack, I’m not telling this story to any lawyer until I absolutely have to. Because although the lawyer himself may treat it as confidential, what about his secretary who types it – how do we know what her security-rating is?’
‘Oh, Jesus, Anna …’
‘I’m sorry, Jack.’ She passed over that one. ‘And the forged passports? How do we get those?’
He had to control his anger. He said: ‘I’ll have to get somebody like Makepeace to help us.’
‘Makepeace?’
‘Used to be in the Navy with me. He was in the Special Boat Service. He quit and went into private practice, as it were. Security work. Bodyguarding.’ He added: ‘He was my partner for a while in my steamship company. But there wasn’t enough money in it for him.’
‘And now he does what, exactly?’
‘A bit of everything. He runs a hang-gliding and parachute school in the Midlands of England most of the time. And teaches karate – he was on the Navy’s karate team.’ He waved his hand. ‘He does private military-type work. These SAS and SBS guys, they never really quit the game, until they’re too old. They’re too accustomed to action to do a desk job. There’s a fraternity of them, guys who’re available for special assignments.’ He added: ‘The government hires them sometimes. “Unofficially and deniably”.’
‘And what will Makepeace do for us?’
God, he was tired, now.
‘We haven’t had time to think this all through. New York seems easy. But if we’ve got to go to a bank in Switzerland –’ he shook his head – ‘we’re into a whole new ball-game. Because that Swiss box will not be in your name, but Max’s. You may be able to forge Max’s signature, but you can’t impersonate him. So? How’re you going to get into that box? Who’s going to impersonate Max Hapsburg and forge his signature?’
She said firmly: ‘Not you. I’m not letting you take that risk.’
‘Then who? Hire a forger? An actor?’
She said: ‘I don’t know yet.’
Morgan sighed again.
‘Anna,’ he said, ‘if we’ve got to go to Switzerland, into a Swiss bank, then you really need a good lawyer. Hand the problem to him. He’ll protect your legal rights, against the British and Americans.’
‘And against the Russians too?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ve also thought about it, Jack. And if you knew as much about the integrity of lawyers as I do after living with Max for five years, you wouldn’t be so confident of them.’
Morgan sighed, and let it go for the time being.
‘Anyway, we’ll need Makepeace: To get us passports. To charter us an aircraft in Europe. We can’t just fly into Switzerland by scheduled airline. They will be watching for us there too.’ He shook his head. Tired. ‘Consider what happens after you’ve found the right box. What do you intend to do with the microfilm? Destroy it, then and there? Or take it with you? But whatever you do, it’s when you leave the bank that the danger really starts. They won’t know you’ve destroyed it. So that’s when they’ll really need to pounce on you – before you’ve gone a hundred yards, before you can slip it to somebody else.’ He spread his hands. ‘We’ll need somebody like Makepeace to make a getaway. A car. Give us cover. And then fly us out. Once we leave the bank we’ve got to shake them off.’ He sighed. ‘That’s the sort of thing we need Makepeace for. And a few more of the boys, probably.’ He added: ‘These guys don’t come cheap. But they’re pretty damn good.’
She massaged her forehead. ‘Don’t you think the British government could find out which banks Max used, simply by asking the Swiss government? And the same in America?’
Morgan shook his head. ‘Not Switzerland. Banking secrecy is sacred there. If the British could have done that they hardly needed to send me to Grenada to find you. No, they would have to apply to the Swiss courts for a special court order to get that information. They’d have to prove that a crime had been committed and the proof lay in the box. Tell the whole story. And what crime can they prove has been committed?’ He shook his head. ‘And I doubt they could do it in America, either. It would be unconstitutional.’
‘That wouldn’t stop the CIA.’
‘But they’d have to break the law to do it. And there’d be hell to pay. You could sue the American government for millions. Then the whole, secret would come out, be public knowledge. They wouldn’t want that.’
She sat, thinking.
‘I don’t like the sound of this José Luis. Max knew a lot of important people all over South America. I think I know somebody who’d help us.’
Morgan had the feeling she had been testing his views before putting forward a better plan of her own. ‘Who? And would you trust him?’
‘I wouldn’t tell him the truth. But I would trust him to keep his mouth shut. He’s a very powerful man. Called Horst Vasquez. Half German, half Spanish. A friend of Max’s father. He’s mixed up in politics, and he’s a Mason, like Max was. He’s got a huge ranch here in Venezuela. He’s about sixty, I suppose. He’s always been very fond of me.’ She added: ‘Always flirts with me.’
‘Could he get us false passports?’
‘Probably. And he’s got his own aeroplane. Two, in fact.’
‘But is he a crook, or just well connected, or what?’
‘He’s like Max, fingers in lots of pies. No, he’s not a crook, but everything is for sale in South America. I’m sure he can grease the right palms to get us passports.’
Morgan sat back in his chair.
‘Excellent. That would solve half our problems. But what story are you going to tell him? Those passports must be in false names, remember. He’ll be very curious to know why.’
‘I simply tell him that I’m on the run because of the coup in Grenada – I need to lie low. He knows Max was involved with the revolutionary government, it’s credible therefore that I’m in trouble too. And you’re helping me.’
Morgan sat forward, his hands laced. ‘You think he’ll buy that?’
‘He knows Max was politically active all over the place. String-pulling, wheeling, dealing. Horst is the same sort of man. South America is run like that. He won’t find it incredible. Particularly if I act frantic and tearful.’ She added bleakly: ‘Which won’t be hard.’
Morgan thought. ‘Could you tell him that we’ve been lovers for years? That now that Max is gone your new name is – or is going to be … Anna Armstrong?’
She shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t like that. He respected Max, though he thought he was a heel for treating me badly.’
Morgan sat back.
‘And your other friends in the region?’
She said: ‘Several. But Horst is