‘I will take you at your word, Mister -‘
‘Ritter, Bob Ritter.’
‘Ah! Budapest.’
Ritter grinned rather sheepishly. Well, after all he’d done to set his agent out, it was clear that he’d never go back into the field again, at least not in any place that mattered – which for Ritter started at the River Elbe. The Russian poked him in the chest.
‘You did well getting your man out. I commend you on your loyalty to your agent.’ Most of all Voloshin respected him for the risk he’d taken, something not possible in the KGB.
‘Thank you, General. And thank you for responding to my proposal. When can I call you?’
‘I’ll need two days … shall I call you?’
‘Forty-eight hours from now. I’ll make the call.’
‘Very well. Good day.’ They shook hands like the professionals they were: Voloshin walked back to his driver/bodyguard and headed back to the car. Their walk had ended up at the enclosure for the Kodiak bear, large, brown, and powerful. Had that been an accident? Ritter wondered.
On the walk back to his car he realized that the whole thing had been an accident of sorts. On the strength of this play, Ritter would become a section chief. Failed rescue mission or not, he’d just negotiated an important concession with the Russians, and it had all happened because of the presence of mind of a man younger than himself, scared and on the run, who’d taken the time to think. He wanted people like that in the Agency, and now he had the clout to bring him in. Kelly had demurred and temporized on the flight back from Hawaii. Okay, so he’d need a little convincing. He’d have to work with Jim Greer on that, but Ritter decided on the spot that his next mission was to bring Kelly in from the cold, or the heat, or whatever you called it.
‘How well do you know Mrs O’Toole?’ Ryan asked.
‘Her husband’s dead,’ the neighbor said. ‘He went to Vietnam right after they bought the house, and then he was killed. Such a nice young man, too. She’s not in any trouble, is she?’
The detective shook his head. ‘No, not at all. I’ve only heard good things about her.’
‘It’s been awful busy over there,’ the elderly lady went on. She was the perfect person to talk to, about sixty-five, a widow with nothing to do who compensated for the empty space in her life by keeping track of everyone else’s. With a little reassurance that she wasn’t hurting anyone, she’d relate everything she knew.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think she had a houseguest a while back. She sure was shopping a lot more than usual. She’s such a nice, pretty girl. It’s so sad about her husband. She really ought to start dating again. I’d like to tell her, but I don’t want her to think I’m nosy. Anyway, she was shopping a lot, and somebody else came almost every day, stayed overnight a lot, even.’
‘Who was that?’ Ryan asked, sipping his iced tea.
‘A woman, short like me, but heavier, messy hair. She drove a big car, a red Buick, I think, and it had a sticker-thing on the windshield. Oh! That’s right!’
‘What’s that?’ Ryan asked.
‘I was out with my roses when the girl came out, that’s when I saw the sticker-thing.’
‘Girl?’ Ryan asked innocently.
‘That’s who she was shopping for!’ the elderly lady said, pleased with herself for the sudden discovery. ‘She bought clothes for her, I bet. I remember the Hecht Company bags.’
‘Can you tell me what the girl looked like?’
‘Young, like nineteen or twenty, dark hair. Kinda pale, like she was sick. They drove away, when was that … ? Oh, I remember. It’s the day my new roses came from the nursery. The eleventh. The truck came very early because I don’t like the heat, and I was out there working when they came out. I waved at Sandy. She’s such a nice girl. I don’t talk to her very much, but when I do she always has a kind word. She’s a nurse, you know, she works at Johns Hopkins, and -‘
Ryan finished off his tea without letting his satisfaction show. Doris Brown had returned home to Pittsburgh on the afternoon of the eleventh. Sarah Rosen drove a Buick, and it undoubtedly had a parking sticker in the window.
Sam Rosen, Sarah Rosen, Sandra O’Toole. They had treated Miss Brown. Two of them had also treated Miss Madden. They had also treated Mr Kelly. After months of frustration, Lieutenant Emmet Ryan had a case.
‘There she is now,’ the lady said, startling him out of his private thoughts. Ryan turned and looked to see an attractive young lady, on the tall side, carrying a bag of groceries.
‘I wonder who that man was?’
‘What man?’
‘He was there – last night. Maybe she has a boyfriend after all. Tall, like you, dark hair – big.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Like a football player, you know, big. He must be nice, though. I saw her hug him. That was just last night.’
Thank God, Ryan thought, for people who don’t watch TV.
For his long gun, Kelly had selected a bolt-action .22, a Savage Model 54, the lightweight version of that company’s Anschutz match weapon. It was expensive enough at a hundred fifty dollars with tax. Almost as costly were the Leupold scope and mounts. The rifle was almost too good for its purpose, which was the hunting of small game, and had a particularly fine walnut stock. It was a shame that he’d have to scar it up. It would have been more of a shame to waste the lesson from that chief machinist’s mate, however.
The one bad thing about the demise of Eddie Morello was that sweetening the deal had required the loss of a large quantity of pure, uncut heroin, a six-kilogram donation to the police evidence locker. That had to be made up. Philadelphia was hungry for more, and his New York connections were showing increasing interest now that they’d had their first taste. He’d do one last batch on the ship. Now he could change over again. Tony was setting up a secure lab that was easier to reach, more in keeping with the burgeoning success he was enjoying, but until that was ready, one more time the old way. He wouldn’t make the trip himself.
‘How soon?’ Burt asked.
‘Tonight.’
‘Fair enough, boss. Who goes with me?’
‘Phil and Mike.’ The two new ones were from Tony’s organization, young, bright, ambitious. They didn’t know Henr? yet, and would not be part of his local distribution network, but they could handle out-of-town deliveries and were willing to do the menial work that was part of this business, mixing and packaging. They saw it, not inaccurately, as a rite of passage, a starting place from which their status and responsibility would grow. Tony guaranteed their reliability. Henry accepted that. He and Tony were bound now, bound in business, bound in blood. He’d accept Tony’s counsel now that he trusted him. He’d rebuild his distribution network, removing the need for his female couriers, and with the removal of the need for them, so would end the reason for their lives. It was too bad, but with three defections, it was plain that they were becoming dangerous. A useful part of his operation in the growth phase, perhaps, but now a liability.
But one thing at a time.
‘How much?’ Burt asked.
‘Enough to keep you busy for a while.’ Henry waved to the beer coolers. There wasn’t room for much beer in them now, but that was as it should be. Burt carried them out to his car, not casual, but not tense. Businesslike, the way things should be. Perhaps Burt would become his principal lieutenant. He was loyal, respectful, tough when he had to be, far more dependable than Billy or Rick, and a brother. It was funny, really. Billy and Rick had been necessary at the beginning since the major distributors were always white, and he’d taken them on as tokens. Well, fate had settled that. Now the white boys were coming to him, weren’t they?
‘Take Xantha with you.’
‘Boss, we’re going to be busy,’ Burt objected.
‘You can leave her there when you’re done.’ Perhaps one at a time was the best way to do it.
Patience never came easy. It was a virtue he’d learned, after a fashion, but only from necessity. Activity helped. He set the gun barrel in the vise, damaging the finish even before he started to do anything substantive. Setting the milling machine on high-speed, rotating the control wheel, he started drilling a series of holes at regular intervals in the outermost six inches of the barrel. An hour later he had a steel can-body affixed over it, and the telescopic sight attached. The rifle, as modified, proved to be quite accurate, Kelly thought.