The Infant of Prague
- Автор: Granger Bill
- Серия: November Man #8
- Год: 1987
- Язык: французский
- Год: Warner
- ISBN: 0446347809
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «The Infant of Prague». Краткое содержание книги:
For in a humble Chicago parish church, the sacred statue of the Infant of Prague is found weeping real tears. A visiting Czech child star actress, transfigured by the wondrous event, declares, on live television, her intent to remain in American in the name of Christ and freedom.
Only an operative as cynical and seasoned as the November Man can sense the sinister link between two dramatic, yet apparently unrelated defections. A miracle has plunged him into a vast global adventure. And it will take a miracle to get him through it alive.
The defection of a highly visible Czech sparks an international crisis, and the November Man is caught in the middle.
“Good,” he said. There was the cold thing in his voice again.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think you should take a few days off,” he said.
“Who are you?”
“The name on the passport.”
“Should I report you to the police?”
“If you want,” he said. His eyes were sad, she thought. Maybe he pitied her. The warmth she had felt a moment before began to wane. She got up from the barstool.
“It doesn’t matter about the police,” he said. “I could tell you a story about myself and it would be good enough to convince you. I could even tell you the truth and it would just frustrate you because no one could believe it. So I’ll tell you this: In a little while, you are going to face some danger and then, if it turns out all right, you’ll be all right.”
“Danger? Are you threatening me?”
“No. But I’m guessing and I’m a good guesser.”
“What are you guessing?”
He couldn’t tell her now. He gave her a telephone number instead. In case she needed it.
26
The bicyclist could be seen for a long time, pedaling down the bike path that ran between the road and the canal. He crossed the canal at the edge of Bruges and the busy auto route and then started down the long, straight path that led to Damme and beyond. But he was going to Damme.
Damme was old and small, just a crossroads village with a few overpriced restaurants that suggested a Flemish painting of the last century. The people in Bruges went to Damme on the weekend to dine and pretend they were from a great metropolis. The bicyclist bent his head as he rode the upright three-speed. It was raining a light mist and the morning light was gray and reflected the color of the North Sea fifteen kilometers away.
The bicyclist reached the crossroads of Damme and put his bicycle against a tree and waited. He was dressed in black and wore a black sailor’s cap on his head. He wore a black pea jacket and black trousers and a black sweater. His face was flushed with exertion and there was a long scar that ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear. His eyes were blue and cold and they saw everything.
David Mason stepped from the doorway of the shuttered restaurant across the road and stood on the sidewalk. The man with the scar grinned at him and walked across the road to him.
“The pistol is wrapped in the newspaper and I shoot well. Not the highest rating but good enough to kill you,” Mason said.
“I’ll certainly remember that,” Colonel Ready said. He smiled at Mason. “Have you killed anyone yet? Or will this be the first time?”
“Not the first time.”
“You enjoy fag bashing? You did a nice job on Philip. I think you’ve almost convinced him to get out of the business. You didn’t have to beat him up to get my attention,” Ready said.
“It was a matter of getting Philip’s attention.”
“So what are you?”
“Section.”
“You coming after me?”
“If I have to.”
“I see.” The grin faded a moment and then reappeared. “It’s out of my hands now in any case.”
“Is it?”
“Sold them both. A matching pair, you might say.”
“Who?”
“Miki. And Devereaux.”
“What about Rita Macklin? What about a red-haired woman?”
The older man looked puzzled. “I haven’t gotten around to her.”
“She disappeared. She came down that path you were on and disappeared.”
“I don’t know about that.” He looked at Mason. “You want to know about Devereaux? It worked nicely with him. He didn’t know what hit him. The only screwup was the driver. He panicked at the last minute, almost killed my brother. Brother Devereaux, brother in arms.” He smiled. “Old Miki wanted to go west, put out his feelers and couldn’t get any bites. Until Section came along. I think there must be parts to Miki but I’m not interested. I wanted Devereaux. Maybe that’s why they used him, because they knew Miki had parts and they wanted an old hand. We were in Asia together, going back, you know that?”
Mason stared at him and didn’t let the gun hand waver. Ready was talking fast, like a salesman edging around him.
“That’s right, turn when I move, keep the piece pointed right at me.”
“You sold Devereaux East?”
“Now you’ve got it,” Ready said.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
The smile was infuriating. He thought he could get away with it. He pulled the trigger. The silencer thumped and the bullet whistled past his face.
Ready blinked.
“You might have hit me.”
“I might have,” Mason agreed.
“Well, maybe I could figure out how to get in touch. With his new keeper, I mean.”
“They’re in the country.”
“There’s every possibility,” Ready agreed. He had flinched after the fact, when he heard the thump. Now he was smiling again. Happens every day, somebody shoots off a piece in your ear.
“Stop fucking around,” David Mason said.
“The problem is, you want to shoot me but there’s the chance that I can arrange you an introduction with Devereaux’s keeper. That’s a problem all right. On the other hand, my problem is you: I was curious about you. You banged up Philip pretty good. Maybe you’d just as soon shoot me.”
“Maybe,” Mason said.
“But Section teaches patience. Like the chaser in Brussels, sniffing around like a bloodhound. What’s he going to do with all his clues? Paper shufflers. You were direct, lad, I like that. You went to the source and beat the shit out of him. That’s the way to do it.” He grinned. “You were right behind Rita Macklin, weren’t you? How’d she give you the slip then?”
Mason said nothing.
“Come on, lad, cheer up. If she got lost and I didn’t get her, then it must be the party who already has Devereaux. Maybe he wants to put them in a glass cage together and watch them fuck.”
“I could put it in your gut.”
“No.” Ready was still grinning. “You got the gun and I got you by the balls. You pull the trigger, lad, and I’m liable to snap your balls right off.”
“So what do we do?” Mason said.
“Well, I was thinking of killing you. Right here. The more I think about it, I think I won’t right now.”
“I’ve got the gun.”
“I’ve got the balls,” Ready said. “No. I think the thing to do is find out where little Rita went. I had plans for her. Maybe Devereaux’s buyer has plans, too. We could find out together.”
“What plans?”
“I’ve got to break her, lad.” Ready smiled as if he were describing a prized possession. “I like her, I like the way she feels, I like the way she looks. I’m going to break her down and when she’s really broken, then everything will be just fine.”
Mason said, “I really do want to kill you.”
“I know, lad. I’ve been an inspiration to you, haven’t I? But learn a little patience and we’ll see what we can see.”
Ready turned then and began to limp across the street to his bicycle standing against the tree.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Bruges,” he said over his shoulder. “Drop a dime and call a number.”
“All right,” he said. “We’ll go back together.”
“You going to ride on the handlebars?”
“We’ll walk,” Mason said.
“You walk out here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Looking for Rita.”
“You must be in love,” Ready said. “That’s really something, that girl turns on a lot of men.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m riding my bike, I’m afraid. My leg,” Ready said.