The Vanishers (30 page)

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Authors: Donald Hamilton

BOOK: The Vanishers
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You don’t want to startle a beginner who’s worked himself—or herself—up to the killing frenzy. When they’re in that state, everybody’s the enemy; and the one thing they fear is that having started it, they won’t finish it properly; that they’ll leave somebody unshot who should have been shot and have it all to do over again. They’ll fire at any movement, any sound…

I waited, therefore, until some of the wild tension had left her. Then I spoke very gently: “Watch it. That’s a ten-shot clip, and you’ve still got three rounds left. If you’re going to puke, please put the safety on first and lay the piece on the bed. No sense blowing a hole in yourself by mistake. Or me. Then, when you get back from the john, you might consider cutting me loose with that pretty knife down there on the carpet.”

23

There were no telephones in the rooms of the ancient hotel; in fact the only available phone was at the desk downstairs. That made things awkward, since I’d have to use it in front of the old gent in the office, and I didn’t know how much English he really understood. It was going to have to be an exercise in double-talk.


Min herre.”
The elderly clerk, having fought the battle of the Swedish telephone system to get the number for me, held out the phone.
“Var sa god.”

“Tack.”
I took the instrument and said, “Helm here.”

“Helm?”

The voice at the other end was painfully familiar. It brought her back very clearly: a lady considered a murderess by some, but in our business we do what we have to, and I’ve terminated a few lives myself in the line of duty. What I remembered was the courage she’d demonstrated in her illness, even if that illness had been self-inflicted, and the adult passion—very different from the insatiable, youthful frenzy of my present companion—with which she’d responded to my own passion, and the simple pleasure of her company.

I found myself visualizing her in another hotel some eighty miles away in the city of Luleå, the largest in northern Sweden. She’d undoubtedly chosen it as her headquarters, although it was some distance from Laxfors, because strangers would be less conspicuous in a city that size. Apparently her hotel was more modern than ours; there were phones in the rooms.

“How’s your arm?” I asked, as a matter of identification as well as courtesy.

“My arm is not too bad,” Astrid Watrous said. “How did you learn this telephone number?”

“Well, I figured you must have instructed Karin to keep an eye on me as we traveled together, and report when she could. Or Olaf had. That meant you must have told her how to get in touch. I persuaded her to share the information with me.”

“Persuaded? Yes, that little girl would not be hard to persuade. She is really a rather dull and docile little thing; or have you found her otherwise?”

Astrid was a clever woman where men were concerned; apparently she wasn’t quite so smart in evaluating other women.

“Docile, maybe,” I said, straight-faced, “but I wouldn’t say I’ve found her dull. Are you jealous?”

Astrid laughed softly, some eighty miles away. “Of course. To forget me so soon for another woman, and a mere child at that!” Her voice changed. “But you did not ring me up to boast of your love life.”

“Right. I just met a couple of young friends of yours. They’ve been very obliging and let me have their car, since mine isn’t working right.”

There was a little pause. She spoke carefully: “That little one we rented in Oslo, you and I? It never did operate correctly.”

“No.”

“How did you convince Karl and Greta… or perhaps I should not ask.”

“Not unless you want me to tell you. The reason I called is that, being without wheels, they’re going to need a lift out of here. A discreet lift out of here, if you know what I mean. They’re waiting for you in our hotel room. Haparanda. Stadshotellet. Room 217. Got it?”

She repeated it mechanically: “Haparanda. Stadshotellet. Room 217.”

I said, “There will be a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, however, that reads in Swedish. I mean, they are very tired and need their rest.”

In the office the old man was shuffling papers on his desk. Astrid was again silent for several seconds. “Both of them, Matt? Was that necessary?” There was anger in the question. When I didn’t answer, she said, “I was afraid you would decide to interfere with our plans. After all, there is some American involvement that could give you an interest. That is just the point of our demonstration. Peaceful Sweden does not wish to be dragged into America’s warlike troubles.”

“Save the oratory for the suckers,” I said. “I don’t think peaceful Sweden is something you brood about during the long northern nights, sweetheart.”

“Perhaps not, but I thought, under the circumstances, you might receive orders to intervene, in your usual brutal fashion. Karl and Greta were merely instructed to stop you and hold you until it is over.”

I said, “That wasn’t very bright, a couple of untrained kids like that. And didn’t it occur to you that Greta, after what had been done to her face, might have some notions of retaliating involving, say, an edged implement and my face. You should see the shiv she was packing, just for me. Well, actually for Joel, but she was happy to settle for a substitute, just so she got to whittle on somebody.”

“I did not know. She… they were available, so I used them.”

“Anyway, they’re here, and they won’t be leaving under their own power. You’d better have somebody fetch them away inconspicuously.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then they’ll eventually go out of here publicly, if you know what I mean, and I’m afraid there’ll be something of a fuss that could interfere with your plans.”

“Your plans could also be interfered with if the matter becomes public.”

“Sure. But you can probably scrounge up the manpower locally to cover things up and I can’t, which puts it up to you.”

After a pause, she said, “I suppose you are right. Very well, I will see to it… Matt, I am sorry. Sending them was a miscalculation on my part. What about the little blonde girl?”

“Aside from being sicky to her tummy, she contributed nothing to the fracas either way. But I’m still supposed to be looking after her for the sake of the family, so she goes with me.”

“Is that the only reason you take her with you?” I heard a soft laugh in the phone. “I am still jealous, darling.”

“You say such nice things,” I said. “I wish there were something practical we could do about your jealousy. But I don’t suppose we’d better meet again. Even if it could be managed, it wouldn’t be a very good idea, for a lot of reasons—reasons that you know as well as I do. Goodbye, Astrid.”

“It is too bad; but you’re right, of course. Good-bye, my dear.”

You hit them every now and then in the business, the man-woman relationships that might have worked out if the world were a different place and the two of you were different people with different loyalties, but it isn’t and you aren’t. So you stick some more adhesive tape on your poor fractured heart, which is pretty well plastered already, and carry on bravely. Love, who needs it?

I gave the phone back to the old gent behind the desk and thanked him, seeing nothing in his expression to indicate that he’d heard anything unusual. I told him that my wife and I were going out and probably wouldn’t be back until quite late, but first we were retrieving our car, which no longer operated, and, if he did not mind, putting it into the hotel parking area. We had made arrangements to use another; we’d have the crippled vehicle picked up in the morning. How much of this got through, what with my lousy Swedish and his lousy English, I didn’t know; but a certain amount of money, over and above the telephone charges, changed hands, the universal language, and he seemed satisfied.

It took us half an hour to fetch the Golf from the side of the highway where we’d left it and park it where it would cause no official comment, at least for the time being. We spent a little more time having the tank of our commandeered vehicle filled with
soppa
, as the Swedes refer to gasoline when they’re being informal. Soup, to you. Finally we were on the road once more, in the maroon 4WD Audi, which, according to the manual in the glove compartment, had power to all the wheels all the time; but if you had some particularly large stumps to pull, there were a couple of differentials you could lock for additional traction. The upholstery was very plushy, and practically everything was either electric or hydraulic, including the windows, the sunroof, the brakes, and the steering. A real luxury heap, in spite of the go-anywhere drive train.

Karin spoke at last: “You have said nothing, Matt.”

“About what?”

“You know. About what… what I did back there in Haparanda.”

“What’s to say?” I shrugged. “If you want, I’ll ask what happened to the idea that we were just going to lure those two kids into the room and have you get the drop of them while they were concentrating on me, and maybe put a few questions to them, before we tied them up and gagged them and drove off in their car.”

I heard her swallow hard, sitting beside me in the silent and comfortable sedan rolling smoothly through the northern forest along Sweden’s Highway E4.

“I… She took me by surprise with that knife; I had to shoot, or she would have stabbed you. Then I just… went a little crazy, I think.”

“Sure. Gun-happy, we call it.” I shrugged. “It’s one of the two normal beginner reactions.”

Karin licked her lips. “And the other?”

“Just when he’s needed most, when people are counting on him, the tender-hearted novice drops the gun and bursts into tears saying he can’t possibly be expected to
shoot
a fellow human being, can he? Or she?”

“You are very callous.”

I said, “For obvious reasons, I prefer your response. You did fine. Maybe you overdid it a bit, but you hit them, and you didn’t hit me. Don’t sweat it.”

After a moment, she said, “One of these days I really
must
learn all these Americanisms. ‘Don’t sweat it.’ I will try to remember that… What did she say?”

“Who, Astrid?” When Karin nodded, I said, “She was upset but not very. She’s a pro like me, remember? Losses are expected in our line of work.”

“Did you do as I asked?”

“I took all the credit, if that’s what you mean,” I said. “It wasn’t hard. She took for granted that I’d been the one who’d dealt with them. I said that your only contributions to the struggle were a few whimpers and a little vomit.”

Karin said resentfully, “You did not have to make me sound quite so… so disgusting!” Then she laughed. “I am sorry. You did just right. We do not want to change what you would probably call her image of me. Her contemptuous image of me. I told you, there are plans; but if she should begin to suspect that I am not quite as useless, quite as ineffectual, as I have made myself seem, she might look too closely at… at certain things with which I was involved before I drove away with you. Do you understand?”

“More or less,” I said. I left it there, and there was silence between us for a while.

At last she said, “You know what I have to ask you. You heard what they said.”

“H-Hour is tomorrow morning. That’s sooner than you expected, isn’t it?”

“Yes, they must have advanced the demonstration date. I thought there was still plenty of time; but if I am to be there, I must go tonight.”

“And you’d like me to pass up my own mission and give you a hand with yours?”

“I will still help you as we planned, afterwards. I promise! And there is no specific time for you to do what you do at Lysaniemi; another day or two will not hurt; am I not correct? But I must be there at Laxfors early tomorrow when they made their protest, I
must
!”

I hesitated, but she was perfectly right. Lysaniemi could wait; Laxfors couldn’t. And although I had no directive on the subject, if a certain lady with Soviet interests at heart was afraid I might interfere because American interests were involved, I’d better at least take a look to determine what the hell was going on up there at Salmon Falls on the Salmon River.

“You’ve got yourself a bodyguard, or whatever the hell my function is supposed to be,” I said. “But maybe you’d better let me handle the shooting end from now on; we don’t want to depopulate the entire north of Sweden.”

24

They were starting to move in on Laxfors a day early. Apparently they’d decided to make a pilgrimage of it:
Fredsmarschen
, some of the signs read, the Peace March. There weren’t many signs, however; it was a long way to hike carrying a big placard, although I saw a couple being lugged that weren’t very favorable to the U.S.A. They were heading north in scattered groups with an occasional independent character striding along purposefully alone. These were the rugged ones who were willing to spend a chilly night in the open. Presumably the more delicate idealists would come up the road by car in the morning to join the demonstration.

Although the march could hardly be a secret to the government, we saw no policemen. Presumably the authorities were playing it smart, knowing that there’s nothing like a bunch of tough, armed, glowering cops to plant thoughts of riot where none grew before. The marchers were mostly young people, the males and females mostly indistinguishable in boots, durable dark pants, and sturdy coats or sweaters; but the weather had cleared, and Scandinavians tend to strip at the first rare gleam of sunshine, so there were quite a few in hiking shorts and lederhosen. It wasn’t really that warm, and their bare knees looked red and chapped.

There was almost always, of course, a
ryggsäck.
I couldn’t help wondering which of these little backpacks contained only the marcher’s food, and a spare pair of socks and some raingear, and perhaps a tarp and blanket; and which also held an incendiary grenade or two. SVAB HG (E) Typ7F, twenty-five to the case, one case missing from stock, somewhere. I wondered also how many of these pacifist pilgrims were aware that violence was intended. Mostly they looked like nice enough kids, without the cruel fanatic gleam in their eyes that had characterized Karl and Greta.

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