"O'Donnell, Peter - Modesty Blaise 12 - Dead man's handle" - читать интересную книгу автора (O'Donnell Peter)

The office above the casino was beautifully and expensively furnished. Garcia stood by the window, watching the girl at the big Finn Juhl designed desk as she studied the latest report from the South of France area. As her chief lieutenant in The Network, Garcia was mightily thankful that she was back now. It had been a severe test of the organisation for Mam'selle to spend six months away in the Far East, even though she had maintained control by daily phone-calls and cables.
Just as well she had delayed no longer, Garcia told himself. The vicious Kadiri mob had been pushing, pushing, and were on the verge of a full scale challenge to The Network, which would have meant a bloody battle. But with Krolli and two men from his section she had taken Kadiri out within four days of her return in a typically skilful operation. Kadiri was now an unwilling guest of the nomad Arab tribe she had lived with for a time during her childhood, and his gang had dispersed. One of Krolli's men had a broken wrist, and Mam'selle herself had needed two stitches for a minor knife-cut in her upper arm. A cheap victory indeed.
It was a pity, thought Garcia, that she had misjudged this man Garvin so badly. Surprising, too. Her instinct for reading men was usually very sound. He glanced at Danny Chavasse, seated on the couch by the wall to her right, masculinely elegant as ever. Danny was watching her soberly, respectfully. In his gaze was that hint of curiosity Garcia had seen in the eyes of so many men when they looked at her. He shrugged mentally. Even to him, Garcia, she was still an enigma, and he knew her better than anyone.
She laid the report aside and said, "Danny, do you think La Roche's wife now realises you seduced her so you could pump her for information on the bank security system?"
He nodded. "Yes, Mam'selle. She is an intelligent woman."
"Might there be any come-back from her in that respect?"
"No, Mam'selle. She knew before we parted, and still we parted with affection. She will not wish to harm me."
"They never do," said Modesty Blaise reflectively.
Garcia chuckled. "Danny has magic," he said.
It was true that Danny Chavasse had magic for women, young and old. Their heads would not turn in the street when he passed, but given a target he could make himself irresistible on a one-to-one basis. His greater magic was that he could end an affair without undue pain or acrimony. These powers were his special attribute, and of untold value to The Network.
Modesty Blaise crossed off a note on her pad and said, "Is there anything else to report this morning, Garcia?"
"Only the Hong Kong situation, Mam'selle," he said diffidently. "Garvin should have been here six days ago now, at the latest, and there has been no word from him. I think we must assume that he has defaulted. Do you wish me to call Wei Lu in Hong Kong and start inquiries?"
She sat frowning down at the desk for a few moments, then shook her head. "We'll give him ten days. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. Maybe I'm playing a hunch, but I don't even know what hunch, soЧ" She broke off as one of the phones on her desk rang.
Garcia moved to pick it up and said, "Yes?" He listened, and his eyebrows jerked up in surprise. "You mean he is with you now?" He listened again, then lowered the phone and said, "Garvin has arrived, Mam'selle. He is downstairs now, asking to see you."
She sat up straight in her chair, eyes narrowed. "Then let's have him up," she said curtly. "I want to know just what the hell he's been doing for the last six days."
Danny Chavasse said, "You wish me to leave, Mam'selle?"
She considered, then said, "No. I'd like you to have a look at him, Danny."
Two minutes later he tapped on the door and entered at her call, carrying a small briefcase. The suit he had bought in Thailand was newly pressed, he wore a clean white shirt, well polished shoes, and was freshly shaven, but the tension in him seemed to fill the room as he said, "Good morning, Princess," and stood waiting.
Garcia gestured towards a chair. Willie Garvin moved forward and sat down facing her across the desk. She studied him for a few moments, then said, "Have you brought the bearer documents?"
"Yes, Princess." As he opened the briefcase on his knees she saw that his big hands were trembling. He took out a large envelope, leaned forward and laid it on the desk. She unfolded the flap, drew out the certificates, examined them carefully, then passed them to Garcia.
Looking across the desk again, she was puzzled by the fear this man was clearly struggling to conceal, but she took care not to let her puzzlement show. "You delivered the gold?" she asked.
"Yes, Princess. I got a receipt 'ere from Fenton." His shaking hand passed a smaller envelope across the desk. She studied the receipt, then laid it aside. He put the ivory plaque bearing her chop on the desk and said, "There's this, too."
She waited a few seconds for him to speak, but when he sat staring down at his hands in silence she leaned forward with her folded arms on the desk and said, "Why are you six days late, Garvin?"
He looked up, distressed. "I'm sorry about that, Princess. I ran into a bit of a snag and it took a few extra days to sort it out."
"What kind of snag?"
He ran a finger round his collar and said uneasily, "You told me you didn't want any excuses."
She shrugged. "I don't. But I'm interested in reasons, so tell me about this snag."
"Well... I got to Hong Kong and made the delivery to Fenton, but Wei Lu wasn't at 'is office. Just 'is granddaughter, Molly Chen. Shetold me he'd been grabbed by some old enemy of 'is, an army colonel, and they'd got 'im in Kui-tan in Red China." He glanced at Garcia and Danny Chavasse with a hunted look, then at Modesty Blaise again. "So I 'ad to go and fetch 'im out," he said apologetically, "and it took a bit of time."
There was absolute silence in the room for long seconds. Then Garcia breathed, "Get him out? Holy God!"
Modesty Blaise blinked, then said slowly, "Wei Lu was a prisoner of the army in the Chinese Republic, and you went in there and brought him out? Is that what you're saying?"
Willie Garvin nodded unhappily. "There was no other way to get 'old of the bearer certificates, Princess. You can check with Wei Lu and Molly Chen. I'm sorry it took so long, but I was a bit slow in working it all out."
She glanced at Garcia, met his stunned gaze, then relaxed and said, "I think you'd better tell us the whole story, Willie Garvin. From the top, please."
It was an occasion Danny Chavasse would never forget. He listened entranced as the story haltingly emerged, his eyes moving from Willie Garvin to Modesty Blaise, fascinated by the intensity of her interest. Several times she had to prompt the big man with a question, and once he ground to a complete halt with sweat breaking out on his brow as he told how he had raised funds for his task by using her chop to borrow from the bank. When she simply nodded and said, "All right, go on," he seemed to breathe more easily.
Garcia stood by the window, arms folded, face impassive until Willie Garvin came to the moment of the shattering discovery that Wei Lu was unable to walk; then Garcia winced and drew in his breath sharply. Modesty Blaise said quietly, "So then what?"
For a moment something like a grin broke through the anxiety on Willie Garvin's face. 'Well, then it got a bit comical, Princess. I cut strips from a blanket to wrap 'is feet in, then carried 'im out to where the bicycles were lined up in a rack. A lot of the soldiers used 'em locally. There wasn't one with a pillion, and I didn't fancy 'aving Wei Lu on the crossbar, so in the end I cycled out with 'im perched on me back. It was like a couple of clowns doing a circus turn. The road wasn't good, and every time we 'it a pot-hole he kept praying in Chinese. Well, I think it was praying, and in between he kept backseat driving in English. This was after we'd cleared the town, and there wasn't a soul about. We quarrelled all the way to the coast, and I got so mad I put the price up. It only took an hour to get there, but. . ." he scowled and shook his head. "It made me realise I'd been dead stupid to plan on bringing 'im out the way I'd gone in. Once I saw the bicycles I ought to 'ave realised they were the best bet anyway."
Danny Chavasse glanced at Modesty Blaise, and was startled to see a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. It was almost a smile, and he had never seen that before. ┴ moment later it was gone, and she said, "You had no more problems?"
"Not really, Princess. When we got to the estuary I 'ad to carry Wei Lu 'alf a mile along the rocks to where I'd left the inflatable, but there was a bit of moonlight to 'elp. Then when I came to blow it up I found the compressed air cylinder 'ad leaked, but I'd taken a footpump along, just in case, and we got the dinghy launched by two a.m., earlier than I'd 'oped. Needn't 'ave left the incendiary to fire their fuel store, as it turned out, but I'd reckoned I might need a diversion round about then. Anyway, we homed in on Molly Chen with the Seahound, she picked us up about two-thirty, and next day in Hong KongЧno, it was the same day reallyЧold Wei Lu handed over the bearer certificates."
There was a brief silence, then she said, "What did you mean when you spoke of putting the price up while you were quarrelling with Wei Lu on the bicycle?"
"Ah, I was coming to that, Princess." He opened the briefcase again, took out a thick envelope, laid it on the desk, and eyed her anxiously. "I told 'im The Network wasn't going to save 'is skin for nothing, and I was making a provisional charge of twenty thousand American dollars plus expenses to the tune of five thousand, subject to Miss Blaise's approval. I'd 'ad ten grand in mind, but then I doubled it, and told 'im it was a knock-down bargain. He must 'ave agreed, because when we got to Hong Kong I didn't even 'ave to ask again." He nodded at the envelope. "It's in hundred-dollar bills, Princess. I 'ope I did right."
Garcia exhaled a long slow breath and muttered, "Jesus!" Danny Chavasse made no attempt to restrain a laugh. Modesty Blaise looked across the desk at Willie Garvin and said, "You don't feel that this should be your own money?"
He looked startled. "Blimey, no. I was acting on your be'alf, Princess. Your be'alf."
"I see." There was a longer silence. After a while she got up, paced slowly to the window, stood gazing out for several moments, then turned to study the big man again with puzzled eyes. "What is it you haven't told me, Garvin?" she said brusquely.
He blinked, then moistened his lips. "Well, nothing, Princess. I mean, only small details that don't matterЧ"
"You're scared," she broke in. "You've been scared ever since you walked into this room, so there must be something you're holding back. I want to know what it is."
He rubbed a hand nervously over his face, then said with quiet desperation, "I'm scared all right, but it's not something I'm 'olding back. I'm scared you might not let me work for you, Princess, that's all. I've felt . . . different since you trusted me to do that job. I can't explain. I just know that if you give me the elbow I'll end up worse than the way I was before . . . and that scares me stupid."
She looked at him for long seconds, then moved back to the desk and sat down. "You're working for me on six months probation, Willie Garvin," she said. "You take orders from me or from Garcia here, nobody else. You'll be provided with good accommodation and reasonable funds, paid monthly in advance. Garcia will explain the system we use and anything else you need to know. Just for the record, I'm more than pleased with the way you handled the Wei Lu affair. Have you any questions at the moment?"
He shook his head slowly, drawing in a long breath and letting it out in a sigh of relief. The tension that had gripped him like a strait-jacket seemed to drain from his limbs, and the briefcase almost slid from his grasp as the muscles went slack with reaction. "No questions, Princess," he said almost sleepily. "You've told me all I wanted to 'ear. Just . . . thanks. I won't let you down."
"Good. Now go and wait downstairs at reception, please. Garcia will be with you in a few minutes."
He stood up, smiling now, an element of wonder in his eyes, acknowledging Garcia and then Danny Chavasse with a polite nod before turning and going quietly from the room. Modesty Blaise leaned back in her chair and looked from Danny Chavasse to Garcia, letting her astonishment show now. "What in God's name do we make of this one?" she said.
Danny Chavasse smiled. "I think you can make whatever you wish to of him, Mam'selle. He is raw material for you to mould."