第 18 页

She glanced at his profile and said quietly: "I suppose I should apologize for this morning."

"Apologize for what?"

"For what happened this morning."

He gave her a quick, puzzled look and said: "Well, this morning we got up, had coffee and

croissants, loaded up the car and headed off to Phnom Penh."

"I mean before that. I mean before we got up."

His eyes were concentrating on the road again. He said: "All I remember is going to bed well

after midnight and having to wake up at five thirty with a bit of a thick head."

She laughed inwardly. "I guess I must have been dreaming."

"It happens, Susanna, especially after a few glasses of good red wine."

She had not been dreaming. They had got into the huge double bed and gone to sleep

separately; but it must have been about four in the morning when she woke up to find her arms

around him and her head in the crook of his shoulder. He was fast asleep, breathing deeply.

Strangely for a man like him he had explained that he could never sleep in total darkness, so the

bathroom light was on and the door ajar. She lifted her head and studied his face and felt both a

warm compassion and a growing desire. He was a man who kept his word. He had not tried to

seduce her; just offered his close company on a lonely night. Slowly, she began to move her

hands over his body and to kiss him gently on his cheek. The kisses moved gradually to his lips,

and she could feel his body begin to move with the rhythm of them. They spoke not a word, but

for the next half-hour made slow and very gentle love. She was always the leader, which was rare

in her limited love life. At the end of it, she drifted back to sleep, again with her arms around

him. It was only an hour's sleep, but it was perfect.

As they bumped along the road she tried to collect and evaluate her feelings. Had she fallen in

love with him, or had it been only a moment of unexpected passion? He was a man poles apart

from her late lamented professor. They might have come from different planets. She had never

been attracted to hard, tough men. It was always the mind that first sparked her attention.

She tried to move her mind off the subject, to concentrate on the scenery around her and the

peasants in the fields, with their conical hats, the occasional water buffalo and the fruit-selling

children by the roadside, some of whom had either one or no legs, thanks to the millions of

mines scattered around the country.

But her mind was obstinate, coming back to the man beside her. She realized what he was

doing. On the one hand he was saving her blushes, and on the other hand he was putting up an

invisible wall between them; at least, that was what she thought he was doing. She decided just to

let time pass and see what developed. Meanwhile, for the first time in days her mind and body

were tranquil. It had been a combination of sharing both a problem and some good lovemaking.

Briskly she asked: "When do we eat?"

He looked up from the road and glanced at his watch. "With luck we should reach the Mekong

River at Neak Lung in about an hour. I want to get there first to make sure that the ferry is

running. We'll eat on the other side. There used to be a market there with lots of foodstores. I

remember eating some of the best freshwater fish in that market. Then we press on to Phnom

Penh. There's a lot to do."

"How will you proceed?"

He avoided another massive pothole, and answered: "By now, Jens should have found out who

is behind the Lucit Trade Company. And The Owl will have done a full-scale recce of the

building. It's possible he and I will break in there tonight and take a look around."

She thought about that for a moment, and then asked: "Isn't it a bit dangerous? Two foreigners

in a city like Phnom Penh to go breaking and entering. I would have thought that was a job for

experts."

He grunted in amusement. "I'm no amateur when it comes to breaking into places, and The Owl

is a real pro. Before joining Jens, he spent most of his life in the mob in Marseille. He can pick a

lock easier than most people blow their noses. With a bit of luck we'll get into that office and out

again without anyone ever knowing. Then, depending on what we find, we'll go on from there."

The ferry at Neak Lung was operating. As they crossed the five kilometres of muddy,

slow-moving water, Susanna reflected that it represented a crossing-point in her life. This time,

she would not leave Indo-China the same woman as when she had entered it.

Chapter 33

At first sight it looked like a Swiss Army knife with a myriad of little blades and gadgets. But as

he opened them all out, The Owl explained that they were all tools for different kinds of locks,

together with blades for prising open window catches and the like. She was intrigued.

"How did you find such a thing in Phnom Penh?"

It was the first time she had seen The Owl laugh.

"This is made by the finest craftsman in Marseille," he said.

"An Arab called Gadra. He supplies the top lock-picks all over Europe and North Africa. He's

very professional and buys locks and safes from the biggest manufacturers for his own little

trading company. Then he makes the tools to unlock them." He held up the instrument. "This is

made from the hardest steel and cost me more than a hundred thousand French francs. I travel

with it in the same way other people travel with a toothbrush or a passport."

He was obviously proud of his skills. He went out of the front door of the bungalow and told

her to lock it from the inside. It was a modern Mortice lock. Within twenty seconds he was back

inside, smiling broadly. Susanna said with mock severity: "So it's no use locking my bedroom

door tonight."

The Owl's expression immediately changed. He said sternly: "Susanna, you don't have to worry

about your virtue here. For us, you're not a woman. You're a person working with us."

She digested that back-handed compliment and walked back into the lounge. Creasy and Jens

were sitting at a table, poring over several bits of paper. She looked over Creasy's shoulder. He

glanced up and explained: "Jens was able to find out the name of the current directors of the

Lucit Trade Company. Apparently it specializes in gemstones, in particular the

different-coloured sapphires that come from Battambang province near the Thai border. We

know that because they have a sign outside." He pointed to another piece of paper. "This is an

external diagram of the building. There's a front door on to the main road and a back door up

an alley.

There are no external signs of alarms. The Owl and I will go in the back door some time

tonight. The directors are all Cambodians and their names are meaningless at this time." He gave

the Dane an encouraging punch on the shoulder. "But Jens is nothing if not a good detective.

With the help of a little bribe, he got the original records from when the company was founded

in 1965. Would you believe, we discovered that the major shareholder at that time was a certain

William Crum."

For a second Susanna was confused. Then she remembered. "That's the man you assassinated in

Hong Kong?"

Creasy stood up, saying: "One and the same."

Jens also stood and stretched his shoulders. He said: "There's one thing I didn't tell you. When

The Owl followed the man with the fax back to the Lucit Trade Company, he noticed that no

evasive action was taken."

"Why should there be?" Susanna asked. "After all, he's a Cambodian in his own country. Why

should he suspect that he's being followed?"

Jens supplied the answer. "Because I checked with a newfound Australian friend and discovered

that the Lucit Trade Company has its own fax machine. So it's suspicious that they use a public

fax in a hotel for such confidential matters."

"It's part of the paper chase," Creasy said.

Susanna thought about that, then felt a twinge of concern. She said: "In that case, they could well

be waiting for you in that office tonight. It could be very dangerous."

Creasy shook his head. "I doubt it. Just as I doubt there'll be any internal alarms in that building

and for that matter, any gemstones. Just a filing cabinet or two. Because gemstone dealers in this

part of the world don't keep their stock in their offices. They usually keep gemstones under their

mothers' mattresses."

"Then what do you expect to find?" Susanna asked.

Creasy glanced at the Dane and answered: "Another piece of paper."

Chapter 34

The follower Tran Quock Cong returned to his family and discovered that his wife and two

daughters had domesticated two wild creatures.

At least they were wild in his eyes, living outside of a normal society. The one called Rene was

sitting by his younger daughter's bed singing a lullaby in French. The one called Maxie was in the

kitchen preparing a chicken curry. Tran said to his wife: "They don't exactly look ready to

protect us from a bunch of assassins." His voice carried a tone of rebuke.

She quickly pointed out the fishnet screens over the windows and the tape lines over the floor,

the small metal box on the table and the two pistols which lay within reach of the two men. She

explained to her husband how he must move around the house, and that if there was an attack,

he must grab the elder daughter while she grabbed the younger and quickly move into the

bathroom and lie on the floor.

"Where do they sleep?" he asked.

She pointed to a single mattress on the floor by the front door. He asked: "They both sleep on

that?"

"While one is asleep, the other one is awake...They are good men."

He gave a short laugh. "They are killers, like their boss."

She shook her head. "Young children have an instinct, and the children became their friends

even though they could not talk to them."

The children slept while the adults ate Maxie's curry. Without a common language, it should

have been a strained meal. But the atmosphere was relaxed and the sign language plentiful.

Maxie was proud of his prowess with curry. He had made a big pot of it, expecting it to be

enough for tomorrow's lunch; but within an hour it had been consumed. After the meal Tran

tried to offer them some brandy, but Maxie raised his palm upwards, pointed to his gun and

gestured with his hand as if sighting. Tran understood that they would not drink while they were

at work.

With many gestures of thanks, he and his wife went up to join the children in bed. Maxie

pulled out a deck of cards and he and Rene sat down to play yet another game of gin rummy.

Seventy metres away from the house, Guido sat in the rented van. He had arrived two hours

earlier and he would stay there until dawn. The night was dark and the street was quiet, with only

one lamp casting dim shadows. He was not sleepy because on such occasions he took a

Dexedrine tablet every four hours. It kept him awake, but it also kept his mind racing, and it had

the odd side-effect of arousing him physically. He decided that it was time he found himself a

girlfriend. He began to picture her mentally. She would preferably be Italian from his home

town of Naples.

She would have a face full of character, with a full mouth and slightly slanted

eyes. Her body would be full and long and big-chested. And her legs would curve from her

waist to her toes. She would have a lot of passion and a mind as quick as his own. She would also

make pasta like a god.

Suddenly, he laughed inwardly. He had just painted a mental picture of Sophia Loren.

He tried to give himself a stern talking-to, but then realized that the subconscious part of his

brain was telling him a practical truth. His life at the Pensione in Naples had become lonely. Of

course he sometimes went out on the town and found a woman, but it was always only a fleeting

affair. He had never considered taking a woman into his life since his wife had died fifteen years

before.

It would have seemed like a betrayal. But his subconscious was telling him that he would

grow old lonely. It was why he was now sitting in this van in a city in Indo-China craving the

company of old friends, especially Creasy. He needed companionship. He wanted to be part of

the team. When this job was over and he returned to Naples, he would look around him with

different eyes. He would open his mind to new possibilities. He would look at women

differently. He would not go hunting for a woman. It was not his way. But if one came into his

life he would be receptive, even if she was not exactly Sophia Loren.

Time must have passed more quickly than he imagined, because when he saw four men moving

past the van on the other side of the road and glanced at his watch, it was just after three a.m. He

watched them for only a few seconds, then picked up the mobile phone from the seat beside him

and punched a number. He let it ring four times, then switched off the phone and reached for his

pistol.

In the house Rene was asleep on the mattress, snoring gently. Maxie was at the table playing

solitaire. The mobile phone was on the table next to the cards and the pistol. As it rang, Maxie

reached for the pistol, listening. Then the pistol was in his hand and he was moving. He kicked

Rene's foot gently and as the Belgian's eyes opened, he whispered to him. From a deep sleep,

Rene came awake and alive in an instant. He scooped up his pistol and headed for the stairs.

Maxie moved back to the table and turned it on its side, crouching behind it. From upstairs he

heard the soft movements of the Tran family being shepherded to the bathroom. Two minutes

passed, and then the black metal box beside him gave a soft beep. And then another one. The

photo-cell beam had been broken. Maxie slipped off the safety catch of his pistol.

It started and ended in less than thirty seconds.

The window across the room shattered, but Maxie did not take his eyes from the door. He

heard a thump on it and guessed it was a clamp explosive. He ducked his head behind the