“You are Mr. Carter?”
“I am.”
Apparently there was no intercom because she rose, smoothed her skirt, knocked at a dark-stained door. She opened it and, coming up on one foot and showing nice legs, stuck her head around the edge.
Carter didn’t hear what was said, but the result was satisfactory. Pivoting on the same leg she came to rest, the door swinging wide and her balance regained. Her smile and shy nod were his invitation to enter.
He smiled his way past her and entered hell.
Mortimer Potts’s inner sanctum was chaos, litter and rubbish piled floor-to-ceiling across the whole room. A huge desk sat in the middle of it all, and behind the desk, Mortimer Potts.
He was a little, thin man, poorly dressed in a baggy suit, a soiled shirt, and a frayed red tie. A few wisps of stringy hair flapped about on top of his head like remnants dropped from someone else’s comb.
“Mr. Carter, gar, it’s good to see ya again!” He stood, extending his hand, and Carter moved forward to shake it.
It was his smile that made Mortimer Potts lovable. His lips were thin like his wrinkled face, but when they parted, revealing a dentist’s nightmare, his grin lit up the world.
“Mortimer, you haven’t changed a bit. Haven’t seen you in a year or more and I swear it’s the same suit.”
“’Course it is! Gar, I buy a new suit and the tax people’ll say I’m makin’ money, they will!” He swept old magazines, newspapers, and a few mouse droppings off a chair. “Have a seat, lad. Jolly good of you to bring some business me way, Mr. Carter. Times has been bad.”
Carter sat. “How’s Miriam?”
“Died, she did. Three months ago, poor thing.”
“Three months ago? And you haven’t remarried yet?” Mortimer had a way of picking wealthy, fat, shrewish wives, but he always seemed to outlive them. To Carter’s knowledge, the dearly departed Miriam had been number six.
“Ah, I think them days is over fer ol’ Mortimer. I just ain’t young like I used ta be.” He rubbed his hands together and flashed another wide grin. “But enough of me sorry troubles. What will ya be into this time?”
“First,” Carter said, “can you be away for a couple of weeks?”
“Oh, lord, yes. Got me that Chinee brother and sister. They run the place now, really. And honest? They account fer every penny. What’s up?”
Carter told him on a need-to-know basis.
“An’ ya want me to stay with him in this bloody castle?” Potts exclaimed when Carter had finished. “Why not just kill the bugger?”
“Can’t do that. I may need information out of him along the way. I’ll set up communications from wherever I am to you, and you get out of him what I need.”
“Ah, an’ ya know I’m good at that,” Potts cackled. “When do ya want to snatch him?”
Carter stood and began pacing, ignoring the debris in his path. “That’s the problem. We’ve only got about fifteen hours.”
“Ah, dear me. What are we gonna need?”
“An ambulance, or a closed-in vehicle with red crosses that could be mistaken for one. It should look like it comes from a private hospital.”
“Go on,” Potts replied, scratching on a pad.
“A motorbike, old, something we can just dump in a canal. Three uniforms, a driver, nurse, and intern. Some medical papers showing he has a rare disease...”
“Terminal?” Potts asked, glancing up from his notes.
“No, but life-threatening would be good.”
“No problem. Go on. Passports?”
“I should think we can use our own,” Carter replied, “but you might add medical identification.”
“Very well. How will you take him?”
“That’s the sticky part,” Carter sighed. “He’s a very nasty character, has a reputation of shooting people when they get too near him. I’ll need an air gun, powerful and accurate.”
“A pellet?”
“Or dart. We don’t want to have to perform any surgery to get the pellet out.”
“That, of course, will be the hardest part, but I think I can do it. Where are you stayin’?”
Carter almost gave him his own hotel, then remembered. “The Americain, room Seven-twelve. Don’t use my name, just ask for the room.”
“The nurse?”
“Yes.”
Potts stood. “I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll call as soon as it’s done.”
At the Americain, Carter climbed the service stairs to the tenth floor, then walked down to the seventh.
“Yes?” came a whisper in response to his knock.
“It’s me.”
The door was opened at once and he slid inside.
“I ordered a tray of sandwiches and some beer.”
Carter kissed her lightly and slipped out of his coat. They sat side by side on the sofa and ate.
“You went to the cemetery?”
“Yes. It’s not perfect, but it will do. Do you think that old caretaker would think it odd if you showed up for coffee in the morning?”
“No, I doubt it. Why?”
Carter dropped a small vial in her lap. “Two of those in his coffee. He’ll go out like a light and stay out for about three hours. Chances are when he wakes up he’ll think he just made a boor of himself and fell asleep on you.”
“Good. What then?”
He explained the whole plan to her, and where they would be taking Huzel once they had him.
“Can we trust this Mortimer chap?”
Carter nodded. “Honor among thieves. If Huzel wanted to put the snatch on me, Mortimer would be more than happy to oblige. But since it’s the other way around and I’m paying him first, he’ll see it through to the end, guaranteed.”
He finished the rest of his sandwich and sat back to light a cigarette.
“How do we work it once we get to Argentina?” Lorena asked, clearing away the tray and settling in beside him.
“I have another friend. His name is Otto von Krumm. You’ll go in with him as his daughter. Otto will be posing as an ex-Nazi. The two of you will put the fear of God into Glaskov. Hopefully, between you, Otto, and myself, we’ll have him so confused he won’t know what to do.”
“I don’t understand...”
“You will. I’ll go through the whole thing with you tomorrow night at the castle. In the meantime, come here.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said with a laugh, and slid across the sofa into his arms.
She put her arms around him, and her warm, firm breasts, her long thighs, her lips, and her belly all seemed to press against him at once. When he touched her he felt her quiver like a thoroughbred. They clasped each other furiously in a tangle of arms, legs, hands, and lips. She lay back on the sofa and let him take her with her head hanging over the edge and one foot on the floor, like a schoolgirl furtively making love in her parents’ house.
When they finally came back to their senses, she laughed at the sight of her torn skirt, her panties crumpled into a ball on the floor, her unfastened bra and her sweater pulled up around her neck.
“Shall we go into the bedroom and act like adults this time?” she asked, grinning.
“Not nearly as much fun,” he chuckled.
Then the phone rang. She answered it and handed it to Carter.
“Hello?”
“Got everything, Mr. Carter. Right down to the little dart all dipped and ready.”
“Good work, Mortimer. Pick up the nurse in front of the Americain at six in the morning. Where’s the motorbike?”
“In the alley behind the club. Key’s on a string in the gas tank.”
“See you then.” Carter hung up. He turned to Lorena. “I’ll go out very early and make sure the two back gates of the place are sealed off so we get no unwanted mourners from that end. When you get there with Mortimer, go straight to the caretaker’s cottage and make sure he’s taken care of.”