“Nick, you said you were expecting me. How did you know? How did I give myself away?”
“On the way out here, I remembered two things,” I told her. “First, something that one of the men who followed you and Abdul to Potomac this morning had reported. He had watched when Abdul stopped at the gas station, and both of you used the phone. That reminded me that I asked you if you had had a chance to hear whom Abdul called or see what number he dialed, when you phoned me later at the Watergate. And you said you hadn’t gone into the station with him. But you had, my dear. Only you didn’t know that someone had seen you do it and had reported it.”
“So those were men from the Executive Protection Service following us, Mr. Carter,” Abdul said. “I wondered about that, but I have not had enough experience in this country to be able to recognize all of the various undercover operators. But I did not think one of them had risked getting so close as to watch us in the station. I thought they waited around the curve until they saw us swing back onto the road.”
“Where you drove slowly enough for your men in the camper to reach the ambush point,” I added.
“Exactly.”
“You made two calls, Abdul,” I told him and he nodded in agreement. “I know the one was to the men in the house here, who were holding Sherima prisoner— after killing the man and woman. Who was the other call to… Selim?”
“Right again, Mr. Carter. I had to tell him that I would soon be picking him up. After Miss Knight and I staged our little charade in Georgetown for your benefit so you could be lured directly here.”
“Then your call had to be to a cab company,” I said, looking at Candy. “You had to arrange to have a cab right at the boutique so you could make your fast exit and be sure to get away before that girl followed you outside to ask any questions.”
“Correct once more,” Abdul said, not letting Candy answer me. He wanted to be certain that he got all the credit for planning the whole setup. “And it worked, Mr. Carter. You are here, as planned.”
I wanted to deflate him a little, so I said, “Actually, that bit with the cab was what got me thinking about Candy and the many coincidences that involved her. Only in movies does someone run out of a building and get a cab right away. It’s like the hero always finding a parking spot just where he wants it. Anyway, I remembered that it was Candy’s idea to take that little walk around Georgetown, and that she insisted on spending last night with me while Sherima was abducted. Then I recalled the phone calls at the gas station, and everything fell into place.”
“Too late, I’m afraid, Mr. Carter,” Abdul said. He turned to the man at the desk who had started to pick up his papers and tuck something — the CIA code book, I guessed — into his pocket. “Are you ready, Selim?”
“Yes.” He handed the Sword several slips of paper that he’d been working on, and said, “These are the ones which are to be found in the house.” His leader took them, then held out his hand again. Selim looked at him for a moment, then sheepishly handed over the code book from his pocket. “I just thought I should take care of it,” he apologized. “There is always the chance that when the police come they might search you and it would not be wise to have it in your possession.”
“Of course, my friend,” Abdul said, throwing a beefy arm around his shoulder. “It was good of you to think of my safety. But I will worry about that and, at the same time, I will remove any temptation from your path. There are those who would pay much to get their hands on this little book, and it is best that the money comes directly to me and our glorious Silver Scimitar movement. Is that not so, Selim?”
The little document forger from the embassy nodded quickly in agreement and seemed relieved when the Sword relaxed the bear hug he had around the man’s shoulder. “Now, you know what you are to do?”
“I will go directly back to the embassy, and then—” He stopped short, looked startled and asked, “What of the car I was to use? And Muhammed who was to bring this Carter here? What has happened to him?”
Abdul turned to me. “Ah yes, Mr. Carter. I have been meaning to ask you about Muhammed. I assume he suffered the same fate as our friends from the Black Liberation Army in Georgetown. And the others.”
I was just about to answer him when I saw the questioning look on Candy’s face and decided that she didn’t know about “the others.” Thinking back on the trio of Japanese who had been lying in wait for us at Great Falls, I had another revelation and tucked the idea away for future use. “If Muhammed is the man who was waiting outside my room, he was detained. He asked me to tell you that he would be late. Very late. In fact, I don’t think he’ll make it at all.”
Abdul nodded. “I suspected as much,” he said.
“Candy, were you watching when Mr. Carter arrived as I instructed you? How did he get here?”
“I saw him get out of a car that he parked around the corner,” she said. “It was a Vega.”
“Again, as I suspected,” Abdul said, bowing to me. “It seems we have much to repay you for, Mr. Carter, including bringing our car here so that Selim can return to the embassy.” He held out his hand. “May I have the keys? Reach for them very carefully.” He gestured to the killer with the automatic rifle, and I saw his finger close slightly on the trigger.
I fished the key ring out of my pocket and started to throw it to the man with the rifle. “No! To me,” Abdul said quickly, alert to any suspicious move on my part. I did as he instructed, then he handed the car keys to his man Selim, saying, “Continue with your instructions.”
“At the embassy, I am to wait for your call. When it comes, I telephone the police and say that you have called me from this address, saying that you have found Her Highness murdered. Then I radio His Highness of what has occurred.”
“And how did I get to this address?”
“I sent you here when it appeared that Her Highness was missing. I recalled that His Royal Highness once had me take him to this house to meet with some Americans, and I thought that perhaps Her Highness had come here to visit her American friends. And I know nothing more about whose house it is, or anything.”
“Good. Do not forget a word of what I have told you, Selim,” Abdul said, patting him on the back. “Go now and await my call. Mustapha Bey will pick up the car later and return it to the rental agency. Park it in the lot near the embassy and tell the attendant someone will come for the keys.” As Abdul flicked a switch inside the hideout similar to the one on the post outside, the heavy door swung open again. He had a final word for his man after checking his watch. “It is now six o’clock. You should be at the embassy in half an hour and we should be finished here by that time. Expect my call between six-thirty and six-forty-five. Allah be with you.”
“And with you, Seif Allah,” the traitorous Adabian official said as the concrete panel closed again, sealing us in the soundproof room with Sherima and me staring certain death in the face.
Chapter 12
Abdul got busy planting his forged CIA notes as soon as Selim was gone. The angry-faced Mustapha Bey kept the gun trained on me, only occasionally shifting his gaze for a moment to dart glances at the bare body of his former Queen. Somehow, I knew that he was the one who had molested her while she hung on the ropes that held her arms wide and her legs open. I felt certain, too, that he and his now-dead companion had probably had strict orders from the Sword not to rape their captive. Any such sexual assault would have shown up in the autopsy, and I didn’t think that the Sword wanted that kind of complication. The killing had to be neat, as if it had been carried out by CIA professionals.