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precise. If Voivin gets here too soon we won t fool him,
and if he s too late it could be very dangerous.
Everything clear?
 Yes, Roberto said.
 Good. Here are the instructions for finding the cove
after you get to Cannes. You can keep the truck, or sell it,
whichever you wish. See you in the morning.
Roberto left. Martine had found another recorder, one
with a foot switch, and she began to transcribe the first
of Kendall s tapes. It seemed a waste of effort to Colby,
typing a worthless manuscript, but they couldn t sit and
do nothing. The suspense of waiting for eight A.M. Would
have them going up the wall.
Decaux disappeared from in front of the house, but there
were two cars on station and the state of siege went on
as night began. Madame Buffet made coffee. Dudley
continued to watch in the now-darkened salon, alert for
the first warning sounds of attempted entry. The house
was silent except for the clatter of Martine's typewriter
in the office. Colby took over. He was dead tired, now
close to forty hours without sleep. He took one of
Martine's Dexedrine tablets and came to life again.
Shortly after eleven the cook arrived in a taxi,
identified himself, and was let in, carrying an armful of
newspapers. Voilà!
WHO IS BOUGIE? The headlines cried. WHERE IS
BOUGIE? DID BOUGIE KILL PEPE? Was Bougie
protecting her lover, the real assassin? Was Bougie a
Russian spy, a Magyar princess, a reincarnated Viking, a
The Wrong Venus  131
publicity stunt by some American cereal manufacturer?
At various times and places Bougie had spoken French
with an American accent, English accent, German accent,
Balkan accent, Vaudois accent, and the accents of four
different provinces of France. The photograph was
emblazoned on the front pages of most of them, and two
carried a picture of Colby drawn by a police artist from
the descriptions of eyewitnesses in the café at St.-
Médard. He looked like the man who is always
questioned by police after a series of mysterious
stranglings. There was a picture of the café, with a
dotted line showing the trajectory of the gendarme, and
several photographs of Pepe Torreon, one without a
blonde.
The briefcase now contained two million francs and
bore an indecipherable coat of arms. Little credence was
given in most circles, however, to the theory that Colby
might have been implicated in the assassination of
Rasputin.
An arrest was expected momentarily.
The night wore on. The cook relieved Dudley, patrolling
the downstairs areas. Martine typed. Colby took over
again, mechanically pounding out words that had lost all
meaning. Martine was dozing in a chair and he had just
rolled page three hundred and eighty-one into the
machine when Kendall came down the hall, dressed in
blue pajamas and carrying the other recorder. She set it
on the desk in front of him and reached for a cigarette.
 The baby s born, she said. It was six forty-five A.M.
Martine was instantly alert. She went to the head of the
stairs and called out to Dudley, who came running up,
followed almost immediately by Madame Buffet and
Georges with a bottle of champagne and six glasses.
Martine indicated the pile of manuscript.  Three
hundred and eighty pages typed, and one more roll of
tape on Kendall s machine. We ll have it ready by noon.
Dudley looked dazed. He gave a wondering shake of
the head.  Oh, boy, he whispered,  if she ll only stay
away a little longer.
Kendall raised her glass.  To biogenesis.
The Wrong Venus  132
They drank several toasts. Dudley and Georges went
back downstairs. Colby and Martine explained the
proposed escape route to Kendall, and gave her the
folder containing her passport and the twenty-five
thousand francs for Clavel s boat captain.
 Get your bag packed, Martine said,  but stay in those
pajamas it ll be easier to put on the coverall. There s
nothing to it the rest of the way, if we can just get you
out of here. It all depends on whether we can move
Decaux. Be downstairs and ready to go by ten till eight.
Kendall left. Colby thought of something else.  You
wouldn t have any sleeping pills in that pharmacy of
yours, would you? he asked Martine.
 Sure. Why?
 Give me three of  em. For our friend downstairs.
They went down to the salon. Colby sent Madame
Buffet to the kitchen for a glass of water, a hammer, and
a screwdriver. He asked Dudley to hold the gun on the
man while he unbound his hands and then re-lashed them
against his body so he could lie on his back.
 Okay, in with him, Colby said. They lifted him into
Kendall s crate. Colby removed the gag.
 What s that for? Dudley asked.
Colby indicated the pills in Martine s hand.  There s no
way to tie him in there so he can t kick around and make
a lot of noise. So we just put him to sleep.
 It ll be interesting to see how you get him to swallow
them, Martine said.
 He ll swallow or drown, Colby replied in French.
 But how are you going to get  em in his mouth? she
asked. The man s string of curses had cut off and he d
clenched his jaw as soon as he saw the pills.
 Easy, Colby said. He knelt beside the box and took
the hammer and screwdriver from Madame Buffet. He
inserted the screwdriver blade between the man s lips,
selected an incisor, and drew  Back the hammer.  Just
knock out a tooth, he went on in French,  and drop  em
in. If he swallows the tooth too it won t hurt him. The
man s mouth opened in a great hippo yawn, the pills fell
in, and were washed down with a swallow of water.
Colby retied the gag, and began to nail the lid on.
The Wrong Venus  133
It was seven thirty-five.  Time to go, he said. He took a
last look through the window drapes. Decaux was [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]