Triple (5 page)

TRiPLE

Schulz had been making notes on his trip while he sipped his gin sling.

Towfik searched the apartment for sheets torn from the pad.

He found them on the balcony, burned to cinders in a large glass ashtray.

Ihe night was cool. Later in the year the air would be warm and fragrant

with the blossom of the jacaranda tree in the garden below. The city

traffic snored in the distance. It reminded Towfik of his fathees apartment

in Jerusalem. He wondered how long it would be before he saw Jerusalem

again.

He had done all he could here. He would look again at that foolseap pad, to

see whether Schulz's pencil had pressed hard enough to leave an impression

on the next page. He turned away from the parapet and crossed the balcony

to the French windows leading back into the drawing room.

He had his hand on the door when he heard the voices.

Towilk froze.

"rm sorry, honey, I just couldn't face another overdone steak."

"We could have eaten something, for God's sake."

Tle Schulzes were back.

Towilk. rapidly reviewed his progress through the roomi: bedrooms,

bathroom, drawing room, kitchen . . . he had replaced everything he had

touched, except the little plastic box. He had to keep that anyway. Schulz

would have to assume he had lost it.

If Towfik could get away unseen now, they might never know he had been

there.

He bellied over the parapet and hung at full length by his fingertips. It

was too dark for him to see the ground. He dropped, landed lightly and

strolled away.

It had been his first burglary, and he felt pleased. It bad gone as

smoothly as a training exercise, even to the early return of the occupant

and sudden exit of spy by prearranged emergency route. He grinned in the

dark. He might yet live to see that desk job.

He got into his car, started the engine and switched on the lights.

Two men emerged from the shadows and stood on either side of the Renault

Who ... ?

2S

Ken Folleff

He did not pause to figure out what was going on. He rammed the gearshift

into first and pulled away. The two men hastily stepped aside.

They had made no attempt to stop him. So why had they been there? To make

sure he stayed in the car ... ?

He jammed on the brakes and looked into the back seat, and then he knew,

with unbearable sadness, that he would never see Jerusalem again.

A tall Arab in a dark suit was smiling at him over the snout of a small

handgun.

"Drive on," the man said in Arabic, "but not quite so fast, please."

Q: What is your name? A: Towfik el-Masiri. Q: Describe yourseff. A: Age

twenty-six, five-foot-nine, one hundred and eighty

pounds, brown eyes, black hair, Semitic features, light brown skin. Q: Who

do you work for? A I am a student.

Q What day is today? A: Saturday.

Q: What is your nationality? A: Egyptian.

Q: What is twenty mintis seven? A: Thirteen.

The above questions are designed to facilitate fine calibration of the lie

detector.

Q: You work for the CIA. A : No. (TRuE)

Q: The Germans? A: No.(TRUE) Q: Israel, then. A: No. (FALSE) Q: You really

are a student? A: Yes. (FALSE)

Q: Tell me about your studies.

A : I'm doing chemistry at Cairo University. (TRUE) I'm in-

terested in polymers. (TRuE) I want to be a petrochemi-

cal engineer. (FALSE) Q: What are polymers?

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TRIPLE

A:Complex organic compounds with long-chain molecules----the commonest is

polythene. (TRUE)

Q: What is your name?

A: I told you, Towfik el-Masiri. (Fnw)

Q :The pads attached to your head and chest measure your pulse, heartbeat,

breathing and perspiration. When you tell untruths, your metabolism

betrays you-you breathe faster, sweat more, and so on. This machine, which

was given to us by our Russian friends, tells me when you are lying.

Besides, I happen to know that Towfik el-Masiri is dead. Who are you?

A: (no reply)

Q:Ile wire taped to the tip of your penis is part of a different machine.

It is connected to this button here. When I press the button-

A: (scream)

Q:--an electric current passes through the wire and gives you a shock. We

have put your feet in a bucket of water to improve the efficiency of the

apparatus. What is your name?

A: Avram Ambache.

The electrical apparatus interferes with the functioning of the lie

detector.

Q: Have a cigarette.

A: Thank you.

Q:Believe it or not, I hate this work. The trouble Is, people who like it

are never any good at it-you need sensitivity, you know. rm a sensitive

person ... I hate to see people suffer. Don!t you?

A: (no reply)

Q:You're now trying to think of ways to resist me. Please don't bother.

There is no defense against modem techniques of . . . interviewing. What

is your name?

A : Avraw Ambache. (TRuE)

A: Who is your control?

A: I don't know what you mean. (PALsE)

Q : Is it Bosch?

A: No, Friedman. (READwa mDETERmiNATE)

Q: It is Bosch.

A: Yes. (PALsE)

Q: No, it's not Bosch. Tt's Krantz.

A: Okay, it's Krantz-whatever you say. (TRuE)

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Kon Folloff

Q: How do you make contact?

A: I have a radio. (PALsE)

Q: You're not telling me the truth.

A: (scream)

Q: How do you make contact?

A : A dead-letter box in the faubourg.

Q:' You are thinking that when you are in pain, the lie detector will not

function properly, and that there is therefore safety in torture. You are

only partly right. This is a very sophisticated machine, and I spent many

months learning to use it properly. After I have given you a shock, it

takes only a few moments to readjust the machine to your faster

metabolism; and then I can once more tell when you are lying. How do you

make contact?

A: A dead-letter-(scream)

Q:Ali! He's kicked his feet free-these convulsions are very strong. Tie him

again, before he comes round. Pick up that bucket and put more water in

it.

(pause)

Right, he's waking, get out. Can you hear me, Towfik?

A: (indistinct)

Q: What is your name?

A : (no reply)

Q: A little jab to help you

A : (scream)

Q: -to think.

A: Avram Ambacbe.

Q- What day is today?

A: Saturday.

Q What did we give you for breakfast?

A Fava beans.

Q: What is twenty minus seven?

A: Thirteen.

Q : What is your profession?

A:I'm a student. No don't please and a spy yes rm a spy don't touch the

button please oh god oh god-

How do you make contact?

A: Coded cables.

Q:Have a cigarette. Here ... oh, you don't seem to be able to hold it

between your lips-let me help ... there.

A: Thank you.

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TRIPLE

Q: Just try to be calm. Remember, as

long as you're telling

the truth, there will be no pain.

(pause)

Are you feeling better?

A: Yes.

Q: So am 1. Now, then, tell me about

Professor Schulz. Why

were you following him?

A: I was ordered to. (TRuE)

Q: By Tel Aviv?

A: Yes. (TRuE)

Q: Who in Tel Aviv?

A: I don't know. (READING iNDETERmiNATE)

Q: But you can guess.

A: Bosch. (READING INDETERmiNATE)

Q: Or Krantz?

A: Perhaps. (TRuE)

Q: Krantz is a good man. Dependable.

How's his wife?

A: Very well, 1-(scream)

Q: His wife died in 1958. Why do you

make me hurt you?

What did Schulz do?

A: Went sightseeing for two days, then

disappeared into the

desert in a gray Mercedes.

Q: And you burglarized his apartment

A: Yes. (TRuE)

Q: What did you learn?

A: He is a scientist. (TRUE)

Q: Anything else?

A: American. (TRuE) That's all. (TRu*E)

Q: Who was your instructor in training?

A: Ertl. (READING INDETERMINATE)

Q: That wasn't his real name, though.

A: I don't know. (FALSE) Nol Not the

button let me think it

was just a minute I think somebody said his real name

was Manner. (TituR)

Q: Oh, Manner. Shame. He's the

old-fashioned type. He still

believes you can train agents to resist interrogation. It's

his fault you7re suffering so much, you know. What about

your colleagues? Who trained with you?

A: I never knew their real names.

(FALSE)

Q - Didn't you?

A: (scream)

Q: Real names.

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Ken Folleff

A: Not all of them-

Q: Tell me the ones you did know. A: (no reply)

(scream)

The prisoner fainted. (pause)

Q: What is your name?

A: Uh... Towfik. (scream)

Q: What did you have for breakfast? A: Don't know.

Q: What is twenty minus seven? A: Twenty-seven.

Q: What did you tell Krantz about Professor

Schulz?

A: Sightseeing ... Western Desert ... surveillance aborted.. . Q: Who did

you train with?

A: (no reply)

Q: Who did you train with? A: (scream)

Q: Who did you train with?

A:Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death- '

Q: Who did you train with? A: (scream)

The prisoner died.

When Kawash asked for a meeting, Pierre Borg went. There was no

discussion about times and places: Kawash sent a message giving the

rendezvous, and Borg made sure to be there. Kawash was the best double

agent Borg had ever had, and that was that.

The head of the Mossad stood at one end of the northbound Bakerloo Line

platform in Oxford Circus subway station, reading an advertisement for

a course of lectures in Theosophy, waiting for Kawash. He had no idea why

the Arab had chosen London for this meeting; no idea what he told his

masters be was doing in the citv-, no idea, even, why Kawash was a

traitor. But this man had helped the Israelis win two wars and avoid a

third, and Borg needed him.

Borg glanced along the platform, looking for a high brown bead with a

large, thin nose. He had an idea he knew what Kawash wanted to talk

about. He hoped his idea was right.

Borg was very worried about the Schulz affair. It had

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TJUPLE

started out as a piece of routine surveillance, juit the right kind of

assignment for his newest, rawest agent in Cairo: a high-powered American

physicist on vacation in Europe decides to take a trip to Egypt. - The first

warning sign came when Towilk lost Schulz. At that point Borg had stepped up

activity on the project. A freelance journalist in Milan who occasionally

made Inquiries for German Intelligence had established that Schules air

ticket to Cairo had been paid for by the wife of an Egyptian diplomat in

Rome. Then the CIA had routinely passed to the Mossad a set of satellite

photographs of the area around Qattara which seemed to show signs of

construction work-and Borg had remembered that Schulz had been heading,in

the direction of Qattara when Towfik lost Win.

Something was going on, and he did not know what, and that worried him.

He was always worried. If it was not the Egyptians, it was the Syrians; if

it was not the Syrians it was the Fedayeen; if it was not his enemies it

was his friends and the question of how long they would continue to be his

friends. He had a worrying job. His mother had once said, "Job, nothing-you

were born worrying, like your poor father-if you were a gardener you would

worry about your job." She might have been right but all the same, paranoia

was the only rational frame of mind for a spyinaster.

Now Towfik had broken contact, and that was the most worrying sign of all.

Maybe Kawash would have some answers.

A train thundered in. Borg was not waiting for a trafiL He began to read

the credits on a movie poster. Half the names Were Jewish. Maybe I should

have been a movie producer, he thought.

The train Pulled out, and a shadow fell over Bor& He looked up into the

calm face of Kawash.

The Arab said, '7bank you for coming.- He always said that

Borg ignored it: be never knew how to respond to thanks. He said, 'Vhat's

new?"

"I had to pick up one of Your youngsters in Cairo on Friday. "

"You had tor

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