It was unlikely, he knew. But as outwardly respectable as they might appear, the men around him all possessed the essential ingredient of criminality: greed. The promise of more money would do more than any direct threat to instil in them the caution he wanted.
‘I think we’re all adult enough to avoid that,’ said Bertrano, speaking for the others.
‘I’m sure you are,’ said Chambine. ‘It was just something that needed saying.’
From his pocket Chambine took a key with an address label attached. He handed it across to Bulz and said, ‘That’s to the warehouse. I want the plan perfected in three days, okay?’
‘Guaranteed,’ said Bulz.
Chambine turned to Saxby and Boella.
‘I don’t want to know when you’re coming to the Breakers. All I want is something that won’t fail outlined to me when I come to see the other preparations.’
The men from Las Vegas nodded their heads in agreement, but said nothing.
‘That’s it, then,’ announced Chambine, standing. ‘I’ll see you all in Orlando.’
‘Going straight back?’ asked Bertrano.
‘Why?’
Bertrano looked at his watch. ‘The fireworks displav starts in half an hour,’ he said. ‘First over the Magic Kingdom and then out there on the lake.’
‘It’s spectacular,’ confirmed Boella. ‘You should stay and watch it.’
‘No time,’ said Chambine. ‘You enjoy it.’
Chambine moved quickly away from the identifying suite, descending one floor by the stairway before taking the lift. Within minutes he was in the lobby, through which ran the monorail train that completely encircles Disneyworld. He was alert to people boarding with him for the journey to the main gate but saw no one paying any particular attention to him. As the pneumatic doors hissed closed, one of Pendlebury’s men rose from behind his copy of Time magazine to telephone the call box near the main exit, to warn the man waiting there that Chambine was on his way.
It was because of the complete success of the surveillance operation that Pendlebury called his meeting within forty-eight hours. This meant more work than it had for Chambine. The F.B.I. man could not assemble all the agents over whom he had control because of the risk of attracting attention with so many, and so he had to journey from as far south as Miami, right up through the coastline to Lantana, Lake Worth, Boynton Beach and Fort Pierce. From each place he selected a man to be in charge of the groups gathered there, recognising the need to delegate responsibility, to ensure quickness of movement. With this smaller group of supervisors he held a final conference, after the others, moving to the mainland and taking rooms at the Howard Johnson hotel on Okeechobee Boulevard at West Palm Beach.
‘I’ll make no apologies for repeating what you’ve heard before,’ Pendlebury began. ‘More than anyone else in this operation, you people have got to know what you’re doing and do it right. If any one of you foul up, then the whole thing will fail.’
Behind him was a blackboard on which were thumb-tacked photographs of the six men with whom Chambine had had his meeting. The F.B.I. supervisor took up a pointer, announcing the identity of each man as he isolated each picture.
He turned back into the room. ‘Every one has a positive connection with organised crime,’ he declared. ‘Yet they are all brought from separate parts of the country. I think that shows a very careful selection of operators.’
‘What are they doing at the moment?’ asked a man called Harris, who had been appointed controller of the back-up group in Miami.
‘Nothing, except being ordinary vacationers,’ said Pendlebury. ‘We’ve got twenty men watching them, rotating every two days to avoid any recognition.’
‘Are they remaining in a group?’
The question came from Roger Gilbert, who was in charge of the Lake Worth squad and so would be immediately involved when the collection was stolen.
Pendlebury shook his head. ‘There was only the one occasion, when they gathered in the suite we followed Chambine to, when we were able to identify the whole team. Since then they’ve behaved like strangers to each other.’
‘What about that warehouse in Orlando to which we followed Saxby and Boella?’
‘I may try electronic monitoring, although the size and acoustics might defeat us. I’m not risking an entry,’ said Pendlebury positively. ‘It’s a good bet they’re using it for some kind of rehearsal, so there would be no point in our risking discovery by trying to get inside.’
‘There’s one thing that worries me,’ said Harris.
‘What?’ asked Pendlebury.
‘The amount of manpower involved in this. It’s practically an army.’
‘The size is necessary to avoid detection,’ stressed Pendlebury. ‘It means we can constantly alter shifts. Disneyworld is ideal; there are far too many people moving around for anyone to get suspicious.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ said Harris doubtfully.
‘What’s the word on Terrilli?’ asked Al Simpson, who headed the Boynton Beach team.
‘Nothing,’ said Pendlebury. ‘We’ve managed to attach a telephone monitor to the outside supply line, but all there has been is calls connected with the legitimate businesses. And certainly no contact with Chambine. But now we’re well set up, there’s no way we’ll miss any meetings that might take place.’
‘What about the suite at the Contemporary Resort?’ said Gilbert. ‘They’re keeping it on, which surely means more meetings.’
‘Much better coverage than on Terrilli,’ said Pendlebury. ‘We’ve got microphones in every telephone receiver, so the whole place is live. There’s no way anyone can even go to the john without our knowing about it.’
‘So we’ll know in advance when they’re going to move?’ said Simpson.
‘I hope so.’
‘I think it looks good,’ said Gilbert confidently. ‘We’re more on top of this than we have been on any of the other auctions. I don’t see how it can go wrong.’
‘We’ve been lucky,’ said Pendlebury cautiously. ‘I never thought it would work out like this when the job began.’
‘What’s the feeling in Washington?’ asked Simpson.
Pendlebury thought about the question. ‘Optimism,’ he said finally. Feeling a proviso necessary, he added, ‘They’re a little concerned at the danger of over-confidence.’
‘I don’t see how it can go wrong,’ repeated Gilbert. ‘We can control the play whatever happens.’
‘I’d welcome a little more uncertainty,’ admitted Pendlebury. ‘I don’t want any complacency.’
‘How’s the exhibition going?’ asked Harris, suddenly.
‘Great,’ said Pendlebury. ‘Made about $8,000 already.’
‘Everyone is going to come out of this happy,’ forecast Gilbert.
‘I’ll drink to that when it’s all over,’ said Pendlebury.
The Cadillac bringing Clarissa Willoughby from the airport pulled up in front of the Breakers at about the time Pendlebury was bringing his conference to an end fifteen miles away.
Charlie had taken a suite for her adjoining his own. He thought there was a reserve about her greeting, but dismissed it, telling her to come to his room as soon as she had unpacked. There was a knock on the linking door within fifteen minutes.
‘An English tea,’ announced Charlie, sweeping his hand out to the table that had been laid in the sitting room. ‘Even cucumber sandwiches.’
‘Lovely,’ she said, and meant it. Freed from New York and the role she believed she had to play, Clarissa had lost her brittleness. She wore jeans, a silk shirt, very little make-up and looked beautiful.
Attentively Charlie served her tea, aware of her eyes upon him.
‘Sally and the others have already gone down to Lyford Cay,’ she said.
‘Oh,’ said Charlie.
‘I was glad to be able to stop off here.’
‘I’m glad you were able to come,’ said Charlie. There was an odd formality about the conversation, he thought.
‘I’ve got some friends here,’ she said. ‘They’ve got a mansion right on the sea.’
‘Going to contact them?’