'Shit scared,' said the cabbie. 'Just wanted to get outta New Orleans. Hell, he musta had a bad night.'
The other men, including Marius, laughed and reminded each other of the wild nights and frightened tourists who went away and never forgot New Orleans.
Fifteen minutes later Marius had reported the conversation to Tucker who went to find Carter at the breakfast bar. When they checked with reception they found that Albert Goodenache had checked out over two hours earlier. By the time they contacted the airport and pulled strings to find out what Goodenache's destination was, the scientist was on his way to New York where he was to switch to a Jumbo direct to Frankfurt.
Adam had shaved, showered, put on a fresh shirt and was heading for the breakfast bar at nine thirty before Carter caught up with him.
'I want to see you,' he snapped at Adam, recent events now shortening his temper.
'Fine. Over breakfast,' Adam replied, coolly.
'No, damn it. We can't discuss these matters in a public place.'
'Well, I'm starving. So, either join me or arrange to see me later.'
'I think we should talk now.'
'Suits me,' said Adam with a smile, as he walked towards the breakfast bar.
'Hey, I meant before…' yelled Carter, but it was too late and he had little choice but to follow Adam into the open-plan restaurant where they were seated at a corner table. Carter nodded when Adam asked if he wanted a coffee, then sat back and waited while Adam painstakingly worked his way through the menu before ordering two fried eggs, double bacon, three sausages, grits, blueberry muffins and Darjeeling tea with milk.
'You like your food,' commented Carter, his irritation coming through.
Adam ignored him. When he was ready he said, 'Well, Mr Carter. What can I do for you?'
'You're heading for trouble. Did you know that?'
'My cholesterol level's fine. I've always liked greasy fo…'
'Don't get smart with me.'
'Would I?' Adam grinned. The CIA man was easy to needle.
'Why didn't you tell us that you'd been out shooting up half of New Orleans?' Carter watched Adam closely, but was disappointed that he drew no reaction from the Englishman. 'We know what went on up there.'
'Where?'
'At the fucking cemetery. We know what happened.'
'Then tell me.' Adam decided to play ignorant. He didn't believe that Billie had said anything. It had to come from outside, possibly from the police. Or Frankie. I half expected that.
'You're meant to be working for us.'
'No. I'm working for my own government. On loan to you. I was sent here to help protect Trimmler.'
'Not exactly a success, was it?' Carter smirked.
'Your man, your agency, were on duty when they killed Trimmler. You shouldn't forget that.'
'Fuck you.'
‘Your people slipped up. I cleaned up the mess.'
Carter changed tack. He smiled magnanimously and held up his arms, palms forward, in a symbol of truce. 'We know you were involved in the shootings. Shit, I'd be happy to let the cops run you in. Except for one thing. You believe those guys up in the cemetery were involved in Trimmler's death. That means they could be under the control of a foreign agency. We've got to follow that through.'
'What makes you think they were involved with Trimmler?'
'We don't. You do. That's what we want to find out.'
'Then I'll make a full report when I get back to London.'
'I'd like to move a little faster than that.' He leant across the table. 'I know about the bottle.'
'Bottle?' Adam knew it was Frankie who had told the CIA.
'Yes. Bottle. With blood and piss in it.'
'A virgin's blood and piss.'
'A virgin's blood and piss.'
'Don't know what you're talking about.' He grinned as he watched the anger in Carter's face explode 'Hey, take it easy. Bad for the blood pressure, you know.'
Before Carter could reply the waiter returned and laid out Adam's breakfast on the table. The two men sat in uncomfortable silence until they were on their own again.
'Looks good,' said Adam tucking into his meal.
'You're asking for trouble. I should just hand you over to the cops. Let them do it their way.'
'You can't do that. You wouldn't be allowed to.'
'Then tell me what happened. What the hell made you go up there. What do you know that we don't.'
'It'll be in my report. Soon as I get back.'
'We'll talk to London.'
'Fine. If they clear me, then I'll give you a full report.'
Carter stood up abruptly, the chair nearly falling over as he pushed it back. He grabbed it and rammed it under the table. 'Don't leave until I come back to you.'
'Do you know what I don't understand?' said Adam.
'What?'
'Why, with all your technology and expertise, you Americans can't cook bacon like it's meant to be.' He held up a rasher on the end of the fork. 'Too crisp. Too damn crisp.' Carter stomped off. Adam grinned. 'Don't get cranky just because I don't like your bacon.'
Ch. 48
The DDA kept quiet on this one.
He was sitting with the Director and Exec Director of the CIA as they made their report to the President. He knew he was only there for background information. He was the flunkey, the nowhere man, in this room of history and decision.
When the Exec Director had finished his report, the President leant back in the big leather executive chair and swiveled round to look out of the window.
'Thing's moving at one helluva pace,' said the President's Chief of Staff, Charles Magey. 'You sure nothing's happened since we started this meeting.'
'My office was told to inform me immediately of any significant developments,' replied the Director stiffly.
'This thing could run a million different ways. It could be anybody out there trying to damage us. Even the Russians.'
'We appreciate that.'
'And you're still getting nowhere with the computer?'
'No. But we're narrowing things down.'
Magey flared up. 'Hell, you won't have anything left on those data bases to narrow down.'
'Getting heated…is not going to solve this problem,' said the President as he swung the chair round so that he could face them. 'Could it be the Russians?' he asked the Director.
'I don't think so, Mr President.'
'Why not?'
'Because I can't see what they'd gain from it. They've got too many problems to get up to their old tricks. And if they wanted to, why bother knocking off agents who're too old to really threaten them.'
'The Chinese?' asked Magey.
'Once again, nothing to gain,' replied the Director.
'When do we find out about the Lucy Ghosts?' said the President.
'There's a meeting this afternoon. In my office. Our Russian contact is going to brief me on what they know.'
'Okay. Keep me informed. Trimmler. Did I ever meet him?' the President asked Magey.
'Yes, Mr President. I think he was introduced to you. He attended some of our functions. Three in all. Scientific exchanges.' Magey always did his homework and the President depended on him.
'And is he an ex Nazi?'
'Yes, sir. We don't know all the details. They're on the computer and it's difficult getting eye witness information on something that long ago. We hid a lot. The then Secretary of State for War Robert Patterson and General John Hildring just wanted to hide the true identities of the Nazis. Hildring said it was time to bury the dead Nazi horse.'