‘Do you estimate that such a plan could be worked out to permit a professional to kill Grand Zohra and escape?’
The Englishman smoked quietly for a few minutes and stared out of the window. ‘In principle, yes,’ he replied at length. ‘In principle it is always possible with enough time and planning. But in this case it would be extremely difficult. More so than with most other targets.’
‘Why more than others?’ asked Montclair.
‘Because De Gaulle is forewarned—not about the specific attempt, but about the general intention. All big men have bodyguards and security men, but over a period of years without any serious attempt on the life of the big man, the checks become formal, the routines mechanical and the degree of watchfulness is lowered. The single bullet that finishes the target is wholly unexpected and therefore provokes panic. Under cover of this the assassin escapes. In this case there will be no lowering of the level of watchfulness, no mechanical routines, and if the bullet were to get to the target, there would be many who would not panic but would go for the assassin. It could be done, but it would be one of the hardest jobs in the world at this moment. You see, gentlemen, not only have your own efforts failed, but they have queered the pitch for everyone else.’
‘In the event that we decide to employ a professional assassin to do this job …’ began Rodin.
‘You have to employ a professional,’ cut in the Englishman quietly.
‘And why, pray? There are many men still who would be prepared to do the job out of purely patriotic motives.’
‘Yes, there is still Watin and Curutchet,’ replied the blond. ‘And doubtless there are more Degueldres and Bastien-Thirys around somewhere. But you three men did not call me here for a chat in general terms about the theory of political assassination, nor because you have a sudden shortage of trigger-fingers. You called me here because you have belatedly come to the conclusion that your organisation is so infiltrated by the French Secret Service agents that little you decide remains secret for long, and also because the face of every one of you is imprinted on the memory of every cop in France. Therefore you need an outsider. And you are right. If the job is to be done an outsider has to do it. The only questions that remain are who, and for how much. Now, gentlemen, I think you have had long enough to examine the merchandise, don’t you?’
Rodin looked sideways at Montclair and raised an eyebrow. Montclair nodded. Casson followed suit. The Englishman gazed out of the window without a shred of interest.
‘Will you assassinate De Gaulle?’ asked Rodin at last. The voice was quiet but the question filled the room. The Englishman’s glance came back to him and the eyes were blank again.
‘Yes, but it will cost a lot of money.’
‘How much?’ asked Montclair.
‘You must understand this is a once-in-a-lifetime job. The man who does it will never work again. The chances of remaining not only uncaught but undiscovered are very small. One must make enough for this one job both to be able to live well for the rest of one’s days and to acquire protection against the revenge of the Gaullists …’
‘When we have France,’ said Casson, ‘there will be no shortage …’
‘Cash,’ said the Englishman. ‘Half in advance and half on completion.’
‘How much?’ asked Rodin.
‘Half a million.’
Rodin glanced at Montclair, who grimaced. ‘That’s a lot of money, half a million new francs …’
‘Dollars,’ said the Englishman.
‘Half a million dollars?’ shouted Montclair, rising from his seat. ‘You are crazy?’
‘No,’ said the Englishman calmly, ‘but I am the best, and therefore the most expensive.’
‘We could certainly get cheaper estimates,’ sneered Casson.
‘Yes,’ said the blond without emotion, ‘you would get men cheaper, and you would find they took your fifty per cent deposit and vanished, or made excuses later as to why it could not be done. When you employ the best you pay. Half a million dollars is the price. Considering you expect to get France itself, you esteem your country very cheap.’
Rodin, who had remained quiet through this exchange, took the point.
‘Touché. The point is, monsieur, we do not have half a million dollars cash.’
‘I am aware of that,’ replied the Englishman. ‘If you want the job done you will have to make that sum from somewhere. I do not need the job, you understand. After my last assignment I have enough to live well for some years. But the idea of having enough to retire is appealing. Therefore I am prepared to take some exceptionally high risks for that prize. Your friends here want a prize even greater—France herself. Yet the idea of risks appals them. I am sorry. If you cannot acquire the sum involved, then you must go back to arranging your own plots and seeing them destroyed by the authorities one by one.’
He half-rose from his chair, stubbing out his cigarette in the process. Rodin rose with him.
‘Be seated, monsieur. We shall get the money.’ They both sat down.
‘Good,’ said the Englishman, ‘but there are also conditions.’
‘Yes?’
‘The reason you need an outsider in the first place is because of constant security leaks to the French authorities. How many people in your organisation know of this idea of hiring any outsider at all, let alone me?’
‘Just the three of us in this room. I worked out the idea the day after Bastien-Thiry was executed. Since then I have undertaken all the enquiries personally. There is no one else in the know.’
‘Then it must remain that way,’ said the Englishman. ‘All records of all meetings, files and dossiers must be destroyed. There must be nothing available outside your three heads. In view of what happened in February to Argoud I shall feel myself free to call off if any of you three are captured. Therefore you should remain somewhere safe and under heavy guard until the job is done. Agreed?’
‘D’accord. What else?’
‘The planning will be mine, as with the operation. I shall divulge the details to no one, not even to you. In short, I shall disappear. You will hear nothing from me again. You have my telephone number in London and my address, but I shall be leaving both as soon as I am ready to move.
‘In any event you will only contact me at that place in an emergency. For the rest there will be no contact at all. I shall leave you the name of my bank in Switzerland. When they tell me the first two hundred and fifty thousand dollars has been deposited, or when I am fully ready, whichever is the later, I shall move. I will not be hurried beyond my own judgement, nor will I be subject to interference. Agreed?’
‘D’accord. But our undercover men in France are in a position to offer you considerable assistance in the way of information. Some of them are highly placed.’
The Englishman considered this for a moment. ‘All right, when you are ready send me by mail a single telephone number, preferably in Paris so that I can ring that number direct from anywhere in France. I will not give anyone my own whereabouts, but simply ring that number for latest information about the security situation surrounding the President. But the man on the end of that telephone should not know what I am doing in France. Simply tell him that I am on a mission for you and need his assistance. The less he knows the better. Let him be simply a clearing house for information. Even his sources should be confined uniquely to those in a position to give valuable inside information, not rubbish that I can read in the newspaper. Agreed?’