The Doomsday Conspiracy (31 page)

Sidney Sheldon - Doomsday Conspiracy

rich man was in hiding, somehow, some way, there was money to be made from the situation.

"Where are you from?"

Carlo asked.

"From no place in particular," Robert said pleasantly.

"I travel a lot."

Carlo nodded.

"I see." I'll find out from Pier who he is. Somebody will probably be willing to pay a lot of money for him, and Pier and I can split it.

"Are you in business?"

Carlo asked.

"Retired."

It would not be hard to force this man to talk, Carlo decided. Lucca, the leader of the Diavoli Rossi, could crack him open in no time.

"How long will you be staying with us?"

"It's hard to say." The boy's curiosity was beginning to get on Robert's nerves.

Pier and her mother came out of the kitchen.

"Would you like some more coffee?"

Mama asked.

"No, thank you. That was a delicious dinner." Mama smiled.

"That was nothing. Tomorrow I will prepare a feast for you."

"Good." He would be gone by then. He stood up.

"If you don't mind, I'm rather tired. I'd like to turn in."

"Of course," Mama said.

"Good night."

"Good night."

They watched Robert as he walked toward the bedroom. Carlo grinned.

"He doesn't think you're good enough to sleep with him, eh?" The remark stung Pier, as it was meant to. She would not have minded it if Robert were a homosexual, but she had heard him talk to Susan, and she knew better. I'll show the stronzo.

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Robert lay in bed thinking about his next move. Laying a false trail with the homing device that had been hidden in the credit card would give him a little time, but he was not depending too much on it. They probably would have caught up with the red truck by now. The men who were aiter him were ruthless and smart. Were heads of world governments involved in the massive cover-up? Robert wondered. Or was it an organization within an organization, a cabal in the intelligence community acting illegally on its own? The more Robert thought about it, the more feasible it seemed that the heads of state might be unaware of what was going on. And a thought struck him. It had always seemed odd to him that Admiral Whittaker had suddenly been retired from ONI and relegated to some Siberia. But if someone had forced him out because they knew he would never be part of the conspiracy, then it began to make sense. I have to contact the admiral, Robert thought. He was the only one he could trust to get to the truth of what was happening. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow. He closed his eyes and slept. The creaking of the bedroom door awakened him. He sat up in bed, instantly alert. Someone was moving toward the bed. Robert tensed, ready to spring. He smelled her perfume then and felt her slide in bed beside him.

"Pier-What are you-?"

"Ssh." Her body pressed against his. She was naked.

"I got lonely," she whispered. She snuggled closer to him.

"I'm sorry, Pier, I-I can't do anything for you." Pier said, "No?

Then let me do something for you."

Her voice was soft.

"It's no use. You can't." Robert felt a deep frustration. He wanted to spare both of them the embarrassment of what was not going to happen.

"Don't you like me, Robert? Do you not think I have a beautiful body?"

"Yes." And she did. He could feel the warmth of her body pressing closer.

She was stroking him gently, rippling her fingers up and down his chest, moving lightly toward his groin. He had to stop her before the humiliating fiasco was repeated.

"Pier, I can't make love. I haven't been able to be with a woman since-for a long time."

"You don't have to do anything, Robert," she said.

"I just want to play. Do you like being played with?" He felt nothing. Goddamn Susan! She had taken more than herself away from him, she had taken a part of his manhood. Pier was sliding down his body now.

"Turn over," she said.

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"It's no use, Pier. I-" She rolled him over, and he lay there cursing Susan, cursing his impotence. He could feel Pier's tongue moving along his back, making tiny, delicate circles, moving lower and lower. Her fingers were gently flicking over his skin.

"Pier-"

"Ssh."

He felt her tongue spiraling down deeper and deeper, and he began to feel aroused. He started to move.

"Ssh. Lie still."

Her tongue was soft and warm, and he could feel her breasts trailing along his skin. His pulse began to quicken. Yes, he thought. Yes! Oh, yes! His tumescence grew until he became rock hard, and when he could stand it no longer, he grabbed Pier and turned her over. She felt him and gasped, "My God, you're enormous. I want you inside me."

And a moment later Robert plunged into her, and then again and again, and it was as if he had been reborn. Pier was skillful and wild, and Robert reveled in the dark cave of her velvety sofI:ness. They made love three times that night. Finally, they slept. Day Eighteen Naples, Italy

In the morning, as the pale light was coming through the window, Robert awakened. He held Pier close in his arms and whispered, "Thank you." Pier smiled mischievously.

"How do you feel?"

"Wonderful," Robert said. And he did. Pier snuggled against him.

"You are an animal!" Robert grinned.

"You're good for my ego," he said. Pier sat up and said seriously, "You are not a drug smuggler, are you?"

It was a naive question.

"No."

"But Interpol is after you." That hit closer to home.

"Yes."

Her face lit up.

"I know! You're a spy!" She was as excited as a child. Robert had to laugh.

"Am I?"

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And he thought, Out of the mouths of babes...

"Admit it," Pier insisted.

"You're a spy, aren't you?"

"Yes," Robert said gravely.

"I'm a spy."

"I knew it!" Pier's eyes were glowing.

"Can you tell me some secrets?"

"What kind of secrets?"

"You know, spy secrets-codes and things like that. I love to read spy novels. I read them all the time."

"Do you?"

"Oh, yes! But they're just made-up stories. You know all the real things, don't you? Like the signals that spies use. Are you allowed to tell me one?"

Robert said seriously, "Well, I really shouldn't, but I suppose one would be all right." What can I tell her that she'll believe? "There's the old window-shade trick."

She was wide-eyed.

"The old window-shade trick?"

"Yes." Robert pointed to a window in the bedroom.

"If everything is under control, you leave the shades up. But if there's trouble, you pull one shade down. That's the signal to warn your fellow agent away."

Pier said excitedly, "That's wonderful! I've never read that in a book."

"You won't," Robert said.

"It's very secret."

"I won't tell anyone," Pier promised.

"What else?"

What else?

Robert thought for a moment.

"Well, there's the telephone trick."

Pier snuggled closer to him.

"Tell me about that."

"Er-let's say a fellow spy telephones you to find out if everything is all right. He'll ask for Pier. If everything is fine, you say, 'This is Pier." But if there is any problem, you say, 'You have the wrong Page 197

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number."' "That's wonderful!" Pier exclaimed. My instructors at the Farm would have a heart attack if they heard me talking this nonsense.

"Can you tell me anything else?"

Pier asked. Robert laughed.

"I think those are enough secrets for one morning."

"All right." She rubbed her body along his body.

"Would you like to take a shower?"

Pier asked.

"Love to."

They soaped each other under the warm water, and as Pier spread Robert's legs and began to wash him, he became tumescent again. They made love in the shower.

While Robert was getting dressed, Pier put on a robe and said, "I'll see about breakfast." Carlo was waiting for her in the dining room.

"Tell me about your friend," he said.

"What about him?"

"Where did you meet him?"

"In Rome."

"He must be very rich to have bought you that emerald bracelet." She shrugged.

"He likes me."

A dozen security agents and the Naples police force were scouring the city for Robert.

Carlo was busily making his own plans for Robert. Pier was getting ready to telephone Interpol again.

The danger in the air was almost palpable, and Robert felt as if he could reach out and touch it. The waterfront was a beehive of activity, with cargo ships busily loading and unloading. But another element had been added: There were police cars cruising up and down the quai, and uniformed policemen and obvious-looking detectives questioning dockworkers and sailors. The concentrated manhunt took Robert by complete surprise. It was almost as if they had known he was in Naples, for it would have been impossible for them to be conducting this intense a search for him in every major city in Italy. He did not even bother to get out of the car. He turned around and headed away from the docks. What he had thought would be an easy plan-to board a cargo ship bound for France-had now become too dangerous. Somehow they had managed to track him here. He went over his options again. Traveling any distance by car was too risky. There would be roadblocks around the city by now. Page 198

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The docks were guarded. That meant the railroad station and airport would be covered as well. He was in a vise, and it was closing in on him.

Robert thought about Susan's offer.

"We're just off the coast of Gibraltar. We can turn around and pick you up, anyplace you say. It's probably your only chance of escape." He was reluctant to involve Susan in his danger, and yet he could think of no other alternative. It was the only way out of the trap he was in. They would not be looking for him onaprivate yacht. IfI can findaway to get to the Halcyon, he thought, they could drop me off near the coast of Marseilles, and I can get ashore by myself That way, they won't be in danger. He parked the car in front of a small trattoria on a side street and went inside to make the call. In five minutes, he was connected with the Halcyon.

"Mrs. Banks, please."

"Who shall I say is calling?"

Monte has a fucking butler to answer his phone on the yacht.

"Just tell her an old friend."

A minute later he heard Susan's voice.

"Robert-is that you?"

"The bad penny."

"They-they haven't arrested you, have they?"

"No. Susan." It was difficult for him to ask the question.

"Is your offer still open?"

"Of course it is. When-?"

"Can you reach Naples by tonight?"

Susan hesitated.

"I don't know. Hold on a moment." Robert heard talking in the background. Susan came on the line again.

"Monte says we have an engine problem, but we can reach Naples in two days."

Damn. Every day here increased the chances of his getting caught.

"All right. That will be fine."

"How will we find you?"

"I'll contact you."

"Robert, please take care of yourself."

"I'm trying. I really am."

"You won't let anything happen to you?" Page 199

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"No, I won't let anything happen to me." Or to you. When Susan replaced the receiver, she turned to her husband and smiled.

"He's coming aboard."

One hour later, in Rome, Francesco Cesar handed a cable to Colonel Frank Johnson. It was from the Halcyon. It read: BELLAMY COMING ABOARD

HALCYON. WILL KEEP YOU INFORMED. It was unsigned.

"I've made arrangements to monitor all communication to and from the Halcyon," Cesar said.

"As soon as Bellamy steps aboard, we've got him." The more Carlo Valli thought about it, the more certain he was that he was about to make a big score. Pier's fairy tale about the American running away from his wife was a joke. Mr. Jones was on the run, all right, but he was running from the police. There was probably a reward out for the man. Maybe a big reward. This had to be handled very delicately. Carlo decided to discuss it with Mario Lucca, the leader of the Diavoli Rossl.

Early in the morning, Carlo got on his Vespa motor scooter and headed for Via Sorcella, behind the Piazza Garibaldi. He stopped in front of a run-down apartment building, and pressed the bell on a broken mailbox marked "Lucca."

A minute later a voice yelled out, "Who the fuck is it?"

"Carlo. I have to talk to you, Mario."

"It better be good at this hour of the morning. Come on up. The door buzzer sounded, and Carlo went upstairs. Mario Lucca was standing at an open door, naked. At the end of the room Carlo could see a girl in his bed.

"Che cosa?

What the hell are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep, Mario. I'm too excited. I think I'm onto something big."

"Yeah? Come in."

Carlo entered the small, messy apartment.

"Last night my sister brought home a mark."

"So what? Pier's a whore. She-"

"Yeah, but this one is rich. And he's in hiding."

"Who is he hiding from?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out. I think there might be a reward out for him."

"Why don't you ask your sister?"

Carlo frowned.

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"Pier wants to keep it all for herself.

You should see the bracelet he bought her-emeralds."

"A bracelet? Yeah? How much is it worth?"

"I'll let you know. I'm going to sell it this morning." Lucca stood there, thoughtful.

"I'll tell you what, Carlo. Why don't we have a talk with your sister's friend? Let's pick him up and take him over to the club this morning." The club was an empty warehouse in Quartiere Saneta that had a room that was soundproof. Carlo smiled.