The Doomsday Conspiracy
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Robert listened to the phone ring again and again. It was six a.m. in Washington. I'm always waking the old man up, Robert thought.
The Admiral answered on the sixth ring. "Hello ..."
"Admiral, I ..."
"Robert! What ...?"
"Don't say anything. Your phone is probably bugged. I'm going to make this fast. I just wanted to tell you not to believe anything they're saying about me. I'd like you to try to find out what's going on. I may need your help later."
"Of course. Anything I can do, Robert."
"I know."
"I'll call you later."
Robert replaced the receiver. No time for a trace. He saw a blue Fiat pull up outside the bar. Pier was at the wheel.
"Move over," Robert said. "I'll drive."
Pier made room for him as he slid in behind the wheel.
"Are we on our way to Venice?" Pier asked.
"Uh huh. We have a couple of stops to make first." It was time to spread some more chaff around. He turned onto Viale Rossini. Ahead was the Rossini Travel Service. Robert pulled over to the kerb. "I'll be back in a minute."
Pier watched him walk into the travel agency. I could just drive away, she.thought, and keep the money, and he would never find me. But the damn car is rented in my name. Cacchio!
Inside the agency, Robert walked up to the woman behind the counter.
"Good day. May I help you?"
"Yes. I'm Commander Robert Bellamy. I'm going to do a bit of travelling," Robert told her. "I'd like to make some reservations."
She smiled. "That's what we are here for, signore. Where are you planning to go?"
"I'd like a first-class airline ticket to Beijing, one way."
She made a note. "And when would you like to leave?"
"This Friday."
"Very good." She pressed some keys on the computer. "There's an Air China flight leaving at seven forty p.m. Friday night."
"That will do nicely."
She pressed some more keys. "There we are. Your reservation is confirmed. Will that be cash or ...?"
"Oh, I'm not through yet. I want to reserve a train ticket to Budapest."
"And when would that be, Commander?"
"Next Monday."
"And in what name?"
"The same."
She looked at him strangely. "You are flying to Beijing on Friday and ..."
"I'm not finished," Robert said pleasantly. "I want a one-way airline ticket to Miami, Florida, on Sunday."
Now she was openly staring at him. "Signore, if this is some kind of a ..."
Robert pulled out his ONI credit card and handed it to her. "Just charge the tickets to this card."
She studied it a moment. "Excuse me." She went into the back office and came out a few minutes later. "That will be perfectly all right. We will be happy to make the arrangements. Do you wish all the reservations under one name?"
"Yes. Commander Robert Bellamy."
"Very good."
Robert watched as she pressed more buttons on the computer. A minute later, three tickets appeared. She tore them off the printer.
"Please put the tickets in separate envelopes," Robert said.
"Of course. Would you like me to send them to ...?"
"I'll take them with me."
"Si, signore."
Robert signed the credit card slip and she handed him his receipt.
"There you are. Have a nice trip ... trips ... er ..."
Robert grinned. "Thanks." A minute later he was behind the wheel of the car.
"Are we going now?" Pier asked.
"We have just a few more stops to make," Robert said.
Pier watched him carefully scan the street again before pulling out.
"I want you to do something for me," Robert told her.
Now it's coming, Pier thought. He's going to ask me to do something terrible. "What is it?" she asked.
They had stopped in front of the Hotel Victoria. Robert handed Pier one of the envelopes. "I want you to go to the desk and reserve a suite in the name of Commander Robert Bellamy. Tell them you're his secretary and that he'll be arriving in an hour, but that you want to go up to the suite and approve it. When you get inside, leave this envelope on a table in the room."
She looked at him, puzzled. "That's all?"
"That's all."
The man made no sense at all. "Bene." She wished she knew what the crazy American was up to. And who is Commander Robert Bellamy? Pier got out of the car and walked into the lobby of the hotel. She was a bit nervous. In the course of practising her profession, she had been thrown out of a few first-class hotels. But the clerk behind the desk greeted her politely. "May I help you, signora?"
"I am the secretary to Commander Robert Bellamy. I wish to reserve a suite for him. He will be here in an hour."
The clerk consulted the room chart. "We do happen to have one very nice suite available."
"May I see it, please?" Pier asked.
"Certainly. I'll have someone show it to you."
An assistant manager escorted Pier upstairs. They walked into the living room of the suite and Pier looked around. "Will this be satisfactory, signora?"
Pier had not the faintest idea. "Yes, this will be fine." She removed the envelope from her purse and laid it on a coffee table. "I will leave this here for the Commander," she said.
"Bene."
Curiosity got the better of Pier. She opened the envelope. Inside was a one-way plane ticket to Beijing in the name of Robert Bellamy. Pier put the ticket back in the envelope, left it on the table and went downstairs.
The blue Fiat was parked in front of the hotel.
"Any problem?" Robert asked.
"No."
"We have just two more stops to make, and then we're on our way," Robert said cheerfully.
The next stop was the Hotel Valadier. Robert handed Pier another envelope. "I want you to reserve a suite here in the name of Commander Robert Bellamy. Tell them he'll be checking in within an hour. Then ..."
"I leave the envelope upstairs."
"Right."
This time Pier walked into the hotel with more confidence. Just act like a lady, she thought. You've got to have dignity. That's the fucking secret.
There was a suite available in the hotel.
"I would like to look at it," Pier said.
"Of course, signora."
An assistant manager escorted Pier upstairs. "This is one of our nicest suites." It was beautiful.
Pier said haughtily, "I suppose it might do. The Commander is very particular, you know." She took the second envelope out of her purse, opened it, and glanced inside. It contained a train ticket to Budapest in the name of Commander Robert Bellamy. Pier stared at it, confused. What kind of game is this? She left the ticket by the bed stand.
When Pier returned to the car, Robert asked, "How did it go?"
"Fine."
"Last stop."
This time it was the Hotel Leonardo da Vinci. Robert handed Pier the third envelope. "I would like you to ..."
"I know."
Inside the hotel, a clerk said, "Yes, indeed, signora, we have a lovely suite. When did you say the Commander will be arriving?"
"In an hour. I would like to examine the suite to see if it is satisfactory."
"Of course, signora."
The suite was more lavish than the other two Pier had looked at. The assistant manager showed her the huge bedroom with a large canopied bed in the centre. What a waste, Pier thought. In one night, I could make a fortune here. She took out the third envelope and looked inside. It contained an airplane ticket to Miami, Florida. Pier left the envelope on the bed.
The assistant manager escorted Pier back to the living room. "We have colour TV," he said. He walked over to the television set and turned it on. A picture of Robert leaped onto the screen. The anchorman's voice was saying: "... and Interpol believes that he is presently in Rome. He is wanted for questioning in an international drug-smuggling operation. This is Bernard Shaw for CNN News." Pier was staring at the screen, transfixed.
The assistant manager turned off the television set. "Is everything satisfactory?"
"Yes," Pier said slowly. A drug smuggler!
"We'll be looking forward to seeing the Commander."
When Pier joined Robert in the car downstairs, she looked at him with different eyes.
"Now we're ready," Robert smiled.
At the Hotel Victoria, a man in a dark suit was studying the guest register. He looked up at the clerk. "What time did Commander Bellamy check in?"
"He has not been here yet. His secretary reserved the suite. She said he would be here within the hour."
The man turned to his companion. "Have the hotel staked out. Get reinforcements. I'll wait upstairs." He turned to the clerk. "Open the suite for me."
Three minutes later the clerk was opening the door to the suite. The man in the dark suit moved in cautiously, gun in hand. The suite was empty. He saw the envelope on the table and picked it up. The front of it read: "Commander Robert Bellamy". He opened the envelope and glanced inside. A moment later he was dialling the headquarters of SIFAR.
Francesco Cesar was in the middle of a meeting with Colonel Frank Johnson. Colonel Johnson had landed at Leonardo da Vinci airport two hours earlier, but he showed no signs of fatigue.
"As far as we know," Cesar was saying, "Bellamy is still in Rome. We've had more than thirty reports on his whereabouts."
"Any of them check out?"
"No."
The phone rang. "It's Luigi, Colonel," the voice on the telephone said. "We've got him. I'm in his hotel suite at the Hotel Victoria. I have his airline ticket to Beijing. He is planning to leave Friday."
Cesar's voice filled with excitement. "Good! Stay there. We will be right over." He hung up and turned to Colonel Johnson. "I'm afraid your journey was for nothing, Colonel. We've got him. He's registered at the Hotel Victoria. They found an airline ticket in his name for Beijing on Friday."
Colonel Johnson said mildly, "Bellamy registered at the hotel in his own name?"
"Yes."
"And the plane ticket is in his name?"
"Yes." Colonel Cesar rose. "Let's get on over there."
Colonel Johnson shook his head. "Don't waste your time."
"What?"
"Bellamy would never ..."
The telephone rang again. Cesar snatched it up. A voice said, "Colonel? This is Mario. We've located Bellamy. He's at the Hotel Valadier. He's taking a train Monday to Budapest. What do you want us to do?"
"I'll get back to you," Colonel Cesar said. He turned to look at Colonel Johnson. "They found a train ticket to Budapest in Bellamy's name. I don't understand what ..."
The telephone rang again.
"Yes?" His voice was pitched higher.
"It's Bruno. We've located Bellamy. He's registered at the Hotel Leonardo da Vinci. He's planning to leave Sunday for Miami. What shall I ...?"
"Come back here," Cesar snapped. He slammed down the phone. "What the hell is his game?"
Colonel Johnson said grimly. "He's seeing to it that you're wasting a lot of manpower, isn't he?"
"What do we do now?" "We trap the bastard."
They were driving on the Via Cassia, near Olgiata, headed north toward Venice. The police would be covering all the major exits from Italy, but they would be expecting him to go west, to head for France or Switzerland. From Venice, Robert thought, I can take the hydrofoil to Trieste and make my way up to Austria. After that ...
Pier's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'm hungry."
"What?"
"We haven't had any breakfast or lunch."
"I'm sorry," Robert said. He had been too preoccupied to think about eating. "We'll stop at the next restaurant."
Pier watched him as he drove. She was more puzzled than ever. She lived in a world of pimps and thieves, and drug smugglers. This man was no criminal.
They stopped at the next town in front of a small trattoria. Robert pulled into the parking lot and he and Pier got out of the car.
The restaurant was crowded with patrons, and noisy with conversation and the clatter of dishes. Robert found a table against the wall, and took a seat facing the door. A waiter approached and handed them menus.
Robert was thinking: Susan should be on the boat by now. This may be my last chance to talk to her. "Look over the menu." Robert rose. "I'll be right back."
Pier watched him walk over to the public telephone near their table. He put a coin in the slot.
"I would like to talk to the marine operator in Gibraltar. Thank you."
Who is he calling in Gibraltar? Pier wondered. Is that his get-away?
"Operator, I want to place a collect call to the American yacht, Halcyon, off Gibraltar. Whiskey Sugar 337. Thank you."
A few minutes passed while the operators talked to each other and his call was accepted.
Robert hear'd Susan's voice on the telephone.
"Susan ..."
"Robert! Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I just wanted to tell you ..."
"I know what you want to tell me. It's all over the radio and television. Why is Interpol hunting you?"
"It's a long story."
"Take your time. I want to know."
He hesitated. "It's political, Susan. I have evidence that some governments are trying to suppress. That's why Interpol is after me."
Pier was listening intently to Robert's end of the conversation.
"What can I do to help?" Susan asked.
"Nothing, honey. I just called to hear your voice once more in case ... in case I don't get out of this."
"Don't say that." There was panic in her voice. "Can you tell me what country you're in?"
"Italy."
There was a brief silence. "All right. We're not far from you. We're just off the coast of Gibraltar. We can pick you up at any place you say."
"No, I ..."
"Listen to me. It's probably your only chance of escape."
"I can't let you do that, Susan. You'd be in jeopardy."
Monte had walked into the saloon in time to hear part of the conversation. "Let me talk to him."
"Just a moment, Robert, Monte wants to speak to you."
"Susan, I haven't ..."
Monte's voice came over the line. "Robert, I understand you're in serious trouble."
The understatement of the year. "You might say that."
"We'd like to help you out. They won't be looking for you on a yacht. Why don't you let us pick you up?"
"Thanks, Monte, I appreciate it. The answer is no."
"I think you're making a mistake. You'll be safe here."
Why was he so eager to help? "Thanks, anyway. I'll take my chances. I'd like to speak to Susan again ..."
"Of course." Monte Banks handed the phone to Susan. "Talk him into it," he urged.
Susan spoke into the phone. "Please let us help you."
"You have helped me, Susan." He had to stop for a moment. "You're the best part of my life. I just want you to know that I'll always love you." He gave a little laugh. "Although always may not be such a big deal anymore."
"Will you call me again?"
"If I can."
"Promise me."
"All right. I promise."
He slowly replaced the receiver. Why did I do that to her? Why did I do that to myself? You're a sentimental idiot, Bellamy. He walked back to the table.
"Let's eat," Robert said. They ordered.
"I heard your conversation. The police are looking for you, aren't they?"
Robert stiffened. Careless. She was going to be trouble. "It's just a little misunderstanding. I ..."
"Don't treat me like a fool. I want to help you."
He was watching her warily. "Why should you help me?"
Pier leaned forward. "Because you've been generous to me. And I hate the police. You don't know what it's like to be out on the streets, hounded by them, treated like dirt. They arrest me for prostitution, but they take me to their back rooms and pass me around. They are animals. I would do anything to get even with them. Anything. I can help you."
"Pier, there's nothing you ..."
"In Venice the police will catch you easily. If you stay at a hotel, they will find you. If you try to get on a ship, they will trap you. But I know a place where you will be safe from them. My mother and brother live in Naples. We can stay at their house. The police will never look for you there."
Robert was silent for a moment, thinking about it. What Pier said made a good deal of sense. A private house would be much safer than any other place, and Naples was a big port. It would be easy to get a ship out of there. He hesitated before he answered. He did not want to put Pier in danger.
"Pier, if the police find me, they have orders to kill me. You would be considered an accomplice. You could be letting yourself in for trouble."
"It's very simple." Pier smiled. "We won't let them find you."
Robert returned her smile. He made up his mind. "All right. Eat your lunch. We're going to Naples."
Colonel Frank Johnson said, "Your men have no idea where he is headed?"
Francesco Cesar sighed. "Not at the moment. But it is only a matter of time before ..."
"We don't have time. Have you checked the whereabouts of his ex-wife?"
"His ex-wife? No. I don't see what ..."
"Then you haven't done your homework," Colonel Johnson snapped. "She's married to a man named Monte Banks. I would suggest that you locate them, and fast."
The Admiral answered on the sixth ring. "Hello ..."
"Admiral, I ..."
"Robert! What ...?"
"Don't say anything. Your phone is probably bugged. I'm going to make this fast. I just wanted to tell you not to believe anything they're saying about me. I'd like you to try to find out what's going on. I may need your help later."
"Of course. Anything I can do, Robert."
"I know."
"I'll call you later."
Robert replaced the receiver. No time for a trace. He saw a blue Fiat pull up outside the bar. Pier was at the wheel.
"Move over," Robert said. "I'll drive."
Pier made room for him as he slid in behind the wheel.
"Are we on our way to Venice?" Pier asked.
"Uh huh. We have a couple of stops to make first." It was time to spread some more chaff around. He turned onto Viale Rossini. Ahead was the Rossini Travel Service. Robert pulled over to the kerb. "I'll be back in a minute."
Pier watched him walk into the travel agency. I could just drive away, she.thought, and keep the money, and he would never find me. But the damn car is rented in my name. Cacchio!
Inside the agency, Robert walked up to the woman behind the counter.
"Good day. May I help you?"
"Yes. I'm Commander Robert Bellamy. I'm going to do a bit of travelling," Robert told her. "I'd like to make some reservations."
She smiled. "That's what we are here for, signore. Where are you planning to go?"
"I'd like a first-class airline ticket to Beijing, one way."
She made a note. "And when would you like to leave?"
"This Friday."
"Very good." She pressed some keys on the computer. "There's an Air China flight leaving at seven forty p.m. Friday night."
"That will do nicely."
She pressed some more keys. "There we are. Your reservation is confirmed. Will that be cash or ...?"
"Oh, I'm not through yet. I want to reserve a train ticket to Budapest."
"And when would that be, Commander?"
"Next Monday."
"And in what name?"
"The same."
She looked at him strangely. "You are flying to Beijing on Friday and ..."
"I'm not finished," Robert said pleasantly. "I want a one-way airline ticket to Miami, Florida, on Sunday."
Now she was openly staring at him. "Signore, if this is some kind of a ..."
Robert pulled out his ONI credit card and handed it to her. "Just charge the tickets to this card."
She studied it a moment. "Excuse me." She went into the back office and came out a few minutes later. "That will be perfectly all right. We will be happy to make the arrangements. Do you wish all the reservations under one name?"
"Yes. Commander Robert Bellamy."
"Very good."
Robert watched as she pressed more buttons on the computer. A minute later, three tickets appeared. She tore them off the printer.
"Please put the tickets in separate envelopes," Robert said.
"Of course. Would you like me to send them to ...?"
"I'll take them with me."
"Si, signore."
Robert signed the credit card slip and she handed him his receipt.
"There you are. Have a nice trip ... trips ... er ..."
Robert grinned. "Thanks." A minute later he was behind the wheel of the car.
"Are we going now?" Pier asked.
"We have just a few more stops to make," Robert said.
Pier watched him carefully scan the street again before pulling out.
"I want you to do something for me," Robert told her.
Now it's coming, Pier thought. He's going to ask me to do something terrible. "What is it?" she asked.
They had stopped in front of the Hotel Victoria. Robert handed Pier one of the envelopes. "I want you to go to the desk and reserve a suite in the name of Commander Robert Bellamy. Tell them you're his secretary and that he'll be arriving in an hour, but that you want to go up to the suite and approve it. When you get inside, leave this envelope on a table in the room."
She looked at him, puzzled. "That's all?"
"That's all."
The man made no sense at all. "Bene." She wished she knew what the crazy American was up to. And who is Commander Robert Bellamy? Pier got out of the car and walked into the lobby of the hotel. She was a bit nervous. In the course of practising her profession, she had been thrown out of a few first-class hotels. But the clerk behind the desk greeted her politely. "May I help you, signora?"
"I am the secretary to Commander Robert Bellamy. I wish to reserve a suite for him. He will be here in an hour."
The clerk consulted the room chart. "We do happen to have one very nice suite available."
"May I see it, please?" Pier asked.
"Certainly. I'll have someone show it to you."
An assistant manager escorted Pier upstairs. They walked into the living room of the suite and Pier looked around. "Will this be satisfactory, signora?"
Pier had not the faintest idea. "Yes, this will be fine." She removed the envelope from her purse and laid it on a coffee table. "I will leave this here for the Commander," she said.
"Bene."
Curiosity got the better of Pier. She opened the envelope. Inside was a one-way plane ticket to Beijing in the name of Robert Bellamy. Pier put the ticket back in the envelope, left it on the table and went downstairs.
The blue Fiat was parked in front of the hotel.
"Any problem?" Robert asked.
"No."
"We have just two more stops to make, and then we're on our way," Robert said cheerfully.
The next stop was the Hotel Valadier. Robert handed Pier another envelope. "I want you to reserve a suite here in the name of Commander Robert Bellamy. Tell them he'll be checking in within an hour. Then ..."
"I leave the envelope upstairs."
"Right."
This time Pier walked into the hotel with more confidence. Just act like a lady, she thought. You've got to have dignity. That's the fucking secret.
There was a suite available in the hotel.
"I would like to look at it," Pier said.
"Of course, signora."
An assistant manager escorted Pier upstairs. "This is one of our nicest suites." It was beautiful.
Pier said haughtily, "I suppose it might do. The Commander is very particular, you know." She took the second envelope out of her purse, opened it, and glanced inside. It contained a train ticket to Budapest in the name of Commander Robert Bellamy. Pier stared at it, confused. What kind of game is this? She left the ticket by the bed stand.
When Pier returned to the car, Robert asked, "How did it go?"
"Fine."
"Last stop."
This time it was the Hotel Leonardo da Vinci. Robert handed Pier the third envelope. "I would like you to ..."
"I know."
Inside the hotel, a clerk said, "Yes, indeed, signora, we have a lovely suite. When did you say the Commander will be arriving?"
"In an hour. I would like to examine the suite to see if it is satisfactory."
"Of course, signora."
The suite was more lavish than the other two Pier had looked at. The assistant manager showed her the huge bedroom with a large canopied bed in the centre. What a waste, Pier thought. In one night, I could make a fortune here. She took out the third envelope and looked inside. It contained an airplane ticket to Miami, Florida. Pier left the envelope on the bed.
The assistant manager escorted Pier back to the living room. "We have colour TV," he said. He walked over to the television set and turned it on. A picture of Robert leaped onto the screen. The anchorman's voice was saying: "... and Interpol believes that he is presently in Rome. He is wanted for questioning in an international drug-smuggling operation. This is Bernard Shaw for CNN News." Pier was staring at the screen, transfixed.
The assistant manager turned off the television set. "Is everything satisfactory?"
"Yes," Pier said slowly. A drug smuggler!
"We'll be looking forward to seeing the Commander."
When Pier joined Robert in the car downstairs, she looked at him with different eyes.
"Now we're ready," Robert smiled.
At the Hotel Victoria, a man in a dark suit was studying the guest register. He looked up at the clerk. "What time did Commander Bellamy check in?"
"He has not been here yet. His secretary reserved the suite. She said he would be here within the hour."
The man turned to his companion. "Have the hotel staked out. Get reinforcements. I'll wait upstairs." He turned to the clerk. "Open the suite for me."
Three minutes later the clerk was opening the door to the suite. The man in the dark suit moved in cautiously, gun in hand. The suite was empty. He saw the envelope on the table and picked it up. The front of it read: "Commander Robert Bellamy". He opened the envelope and glanced inside. A moment later he was dialling the headquarters of SIFAR.
Francesco Cesar was in the middle of a meeting with Colonel Frank Johnson. Colonel Johnson had landed at Leonardo da Vinci airport two hours earlier, but he showed no signs of fatigue.
"As far as we know," Cesar was saying, "Bellamy is still in Rome. We've had more than thirty reports on his whereabouts."
"Any of them check out?"
"No."
The phone rang. "It's Luigi, Colonel," the voice on the telephone said. "We've got him. I'm in his hotel suite at the Hotel Victoria. I have his airline ticket to Beijing. He is planning to leave Friday."
Cesar's voice filled with excitement. "Good! Stay there. We will be right over." He hung up and turned to Colonel Johnson. "I'm afraid your journey was for nothing, Colonel. We've got him. He's registered at the Hotel Victoria. They found an airline ticket in his name for Beijing on Friday."
Colonel Johnson said mildly, "Bellamy registered at the hotel in his own name?"
"Yes."
"And the plane ticket is in his name?"
"Yes." Colonel Cesar rose. "Let's get on over there."
Colonel Johnson shook his head. "Don't waste your time."
"What?"
"Bellamy would never ..."
The telephone rang again. Cesar snatched it up. A voice said, "Colonel? This is Mario. We've located Bellamy. He's at the Hotel Valadier. He's taking a train Monday to Budapest. What do you want us to do?"
"I'll get back to you," Colonel Cesar said. He turned to look at Colonel Johnson. "They found a train ticket to Budapest in Bellamy's name. I don't understand what ..."
The telephone rang again.
"Yes?" His voice was pitched higher.
"It's Bruno. We've located Bellamy. He's registered at the Hotel Leonardo da Vinci. He's planning to leave Sunday for Miami. What shall I ...?"
"Come back here," Cesar snapped. He slammed down the phone. "What the hell is his game?"
Colonel Johnson said grimly. "He's seeing to it that you're wasting a lot of manpower, isn't he?"
"What do we do now?" "We trap the bastard."
They were driving on the Via Cassia, near Olgiata, headed north toward Venice. The police would be covering all the major exits from Italy, but they would be expecting him to go west, to head for France or Switzerland. From Venice, Robert thought, I can take the hydrofoil to Trieste and make my way up to Austria. After that ...
Pier's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'm hungry."
"What?"
"We haven't had any breakfast or lunch."
"I'm sorry," Robert said. He had been too preoccupied to think about eating. "We'll stop at the next restaurant."
Pier watched him as he drove. She was more puzzled than ever. She lived in a world of pimps and thieves, and drug smugglers. This man was no criminal.
They stopped at the next town in front of a small trattoria. Robert pulled into the parking lot and he and Pier got out of the car.
The restaurant was crowded with patrons, and noisy with conversation and the clatter of dishes. Robert found a table against the wall, and took a seat facing the door. A waiter approached and handed them menus.
Robert was thinking: Susan should be on the boat by now. This may be my last chance to talk to her. "Look over the menu." Robert rose. "I'll be right back."
Pier watched him walk over to the public telephone near their table. He put a coin in the slot.
"I would like to talk to the marine operator in Gibraltar. Thank you."
Who is he calling in Gibraltar? Pier wondered. Is that his get-away?
"Operator, I want to place a collect call to the American yacht, Halcyon, off Gibraltar. Whiskey Sugar 337. Thank you."
A few minutes passed while the operators talked to each other and his call was accepted.
Robert hear'd Susan's voice on the telephone.
"Susan ..."
"Robert! Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I just wanted to tell you ..."
"I know what you want to tell me. It's all over the radio and television. Why is Interpol hunting you?"
"It's a long story."
"Take your time. I want to know."
He hesitated. "It's political, Susan. I have evidence that some governments are trying to suppress. That's why Interpol is after me."
Pier was listening intently to Robert's end of the conversation.
"What can I do to help?" Susan asked.
"Nothing, honey. I just called to hear your voice once more in case ... in case I don't get out of this."
"Don't say that." There was panic in her voice. "Can you tell me what country you're in?"
"Italy."
There was a brief silence. "All right. We're not far from you. We're just off the coast of Gibraltar. We can pick you up at any place you say."
"No, I ..."
"Listen to me. It's probably your only chance of escape."
"I can't let you do that, Susan. You'd be in jeopardy."
Monte had walked into the saloon in time to hear part of the conversation. "Let me talk to him."
"Just a moment, Robert, Monte wants to speak to you."
"Susan, I haven't ..."
Monte's voice came over the line. "Robert, I understand you're in serious trouble."
The understatement of the year. "You might say that."
"We'd like to help you out. They won't be looking for you on a yacht. Why don't you let us pick you up?"
"Thanks, Monte, I appreciate it. The answer is no."
"I think you're making a mistake. You'll be safe here."
Why was he so eager to help? "Thanks, anyway. I'll take my chances. I'd like to speak to Susan again ..."
"Of course." Monte Banks handed the phone to Susan. "Talk him into it," he urged.
Susan spoke into the phone. "Please let us help you."
"You have helped me, Susan." He had to stop for a moment. "You're the best part of my life. I just want you to know that I'll always love you." He gave a little laugh. "Although always may not be such a big deal anymore."
"Will you call me again?"
"If I can."
"Promise me."
"All right. I promise."
He slowly replaced the receiver. Why did I do that to her? Why did I do that to myself? You're a sentimental idiot, Bellamy. He walked back to the table.
"Let's eat," Robert said. They ordered.
"I heard your conversation. The police are looking for you, aren't they?"
Robert stiffened. Careless. She was going to be trouble. "It's just a little misunderstanding. I ..."
"Don't treat me like a fool. I want to help you."
He was watching her warily. "Why should you help me?"
Pier leaned forward. "Because you've been generous to me. And I hate the police. You don't know what it's like to be out on the streets, hounded by them, treated like dirt. They arrest me for prostitution, but they take me to their back rooms and pass me around. They are animals. I would do anything to get even with them. Anything. I can help you."
"Pier, there's nothing you ..."
"In Venice the police will catch you easily. If you stay at a hotel, they will find you. If you try to get on a ship, they will trap you. But I know a place where you will be safe from them. My mother and brother live in Naples. We can stay at their house. The police will never look for you there."
Robert was silent for a moment, thinking about it. What Pier said made a good deal of sense. A private house would be much safer than any other place, and Naples was a big port. It would be easy to get a ship out of there. He hesitated before he answered. He did not want to put Pier in danger.
"Pier, if the police find me, they have orders to kill me. You would be considered an accomplice. You could be letting yourself in for trouble."
"It's very simple." Pier smiled. "We won't let them find you."
Robert returned her smile. He made up his mind. "All right. Eat your lunch. We're going to Naples."
Colonel Frank Johnson said, "Your men have no idea where he is headed?"
Francesco Cesar sighed. "Not at the moment. But it is only a matter of time before ..."
"We don't have time. Have you checked the whereabouts of his ex-wife?"
"His ex-wife? No. I don't see what ..."
"Then you haven't done your homework," Colonel Johnson snapped. "She's married to a man named Monte Banks. I would suggest that you locate them, and fast."
