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      ‘If you join us you’ll be as mad as we are. Still, you might come in useful.’ He looked at Bryan speculatively, then said, ‘I think you’d better be in the main party. Mike Abbot can go with Parker.’

      ‘What’s he going to do?’

      ‘He’s our Trojan Horse – if we can find the Delorme woman – and that’s proving to be a hell of a problem. Hellier has a team in Paris going through birth certificates, pulling out all the Jeanette Delormes and running them down. They’ve found eight already. On the off-chance she was born in Switzerland he has another team there.’

      ‘Supposing she was born in Martinique?’ asked Bryan.

      ‘We can only try the obvious first,’ said Warren. ‘Hellier’s investigators are good – I know because they did a bang-up job on me. Anyway, he’s spending money as though he has his own printing press. We’re already into him for over £70,000.’ He grinned. ‘Still, that’s only a couple of years’ upkeep on his yacht’

      ‘I’ve never heard of a rich man really keen to part with his money,’ said Bryan. ‘You must have knocked the props clean from under him. You made him take a look at himself – a good, clear-eyed look – and he didn’t like what he saw. I wish I could do the same to some of my patients. Perhaps you should change your profession.’

      ‘I have – I’m in the business of raising private armies.’

      Everything seemed to happen at once.

      It may have been luck or it may have been good investigative practice, but the Delorme woman was traced, not through the patient sifting of birth certificates, but from a pipeline into the French Sûreté. It seemed that Mike Abbot had a friend who had a friend who …

      Hellier tossed a file over to Warren. ‘Read that and tell me what you think.’

      Warren settled back in his chair and opened the folder.

       Jeanette Véronique Delorme: Born April 12, 1937 at Chalons. Parents …

      He skipped the vital statistics in order to come to the meat of it.

       ‘… three months’ imprisonment in 1955 for minor fraud; six months’ imprisonment in 1957 for smuggling over Franco-Spanish border; left France in 1958.’

      Then followed what could only be described as a series of hypotheses.

      Believed to have been involved in smuggling from Tangier to Spain, 1958-1960; smuggling arms to Algeria, 1961-1963; smuggling drugs into Italy and Switzerland, 1963-1967. Believed to have been implicated in the murders of Henry Rowe (American) 1962; Kurt Schlesinger (German), Ahmed ben Bouza (Algerian) and Jean Fouget (French) 1963; Kamer Osman (Lebanese) and Pietro Fuselli (Italian) 1966.

      Operational Characteristics: Subject is good organizer and capable of controlling large groups; is ruthless and intolerant of errors; is careful not to become personally involved in smuggling activities, but may have been director of large-scale jewel thefts, south of France, 1967. This, however, may be considered doubtful.

      Present Whereabouts: Beirut, Lebanon.

      Present Status: Not wanted for crime in Metropolitan France.

      There were a couple of smudgy photographs which had not survived the copying process at all well, but which showed a blonde of indeterminate age.

      Warren blew out his cheeks. ‘What a hell-cat she must be.’ He tapped the folder. ‘I think this is the one – everything fits.’

      ‘I think so, too,’ said Hellier. ‘I’ve stopped everything else and narrowed it down to her. A man has already flown out to Beirut to pinpoint her.’

      ‘I hope someone has told him to be careful,’ said Warren.

      ‘He just has to find out where she lives and … er … her standing in the community. That shouldn’t be too risky. Then he pulls out and you take over.’

      ‘I’ll get Dan Parker out there as soon as we know something definite. Mike Abbot will support him – I’m not sure Dan could pull it off on his own. This might need the sophisticated touch. Oh, and we have a volunteer – Ben Bryan will be joining the Iran group.’

      ‘I’m glad to hear that Mr Bryan is going to earn his manor house,’ said Hellier, a shade acidly. ‘There’s still nothing on your man, Speering.’

      ‘He’ll make a move soon,’ said Warren with certainty. His confidence had risen because the dossier on Jeanette Delorme fitted in so tidily.

      ‘Well, the same thing applies. There’ll be an investigator with him all the way – probably on the same plane if he flies. Then you’ll take over.’

      Speering moved two days later, and within twelve hours Warren, Tozier, Follet and Bryan were in the air in a chartered aircraft which also carried the two Land-Rovers. Parker and Abbot were already on their way to the Lebanon.

      III

      It was snowing in Tehran.

      Follet shivered as the sharp wind cut through his jacket. ‘I thought this place was supposed to be hot.’ He looked out across the airport at the sheer wall of the Elburz Mountains and then up at the cold grey sky from which scudded a minor blizzard. ‘This is the Middle East?’ he asked doubtfully.

      ‘About as Middle as you can get,’ said Tozier. ‘Still, it’s March and we’re nearly five thousand feet above sea level.’

      Follet turned up his collar and pulled the lapels close about his throat. ‘Where the hell is Warren?’

      ‘He’s clearing the vehicles and the gear through customs.’ He smiled grimly. The modifications he had made to the Land-Rovers were such that if they were discovered then all hell would break loose in the customs shed, and Warren and Bryan would find themselves tossed into jail without a quibble. But he had not told Warren what the modifications were, which was all to the good. True innocence is better than bluff when faced with the X-ray eye of the experienced customs official.

      All the same he breathed more easily when Follet touched him on the shoulder and pointed. ‘Here they come,’ he said, and Tozier saw with relief a Land-Rover bearing down upon them. On its side it bore the neat legend: Regent Film Company. Advance Unit. The tension left him.

      Warren poked his head through the side window. ‘Ben’s just behind me,’ he said. ‘One of you jump in.’

      ‘Did you have any trouble?’ asked Tozier.

      Warren looked surprised. ‘No trouble at all.’

      Tozier smiled and said nothing. He walked around to the back of the vehicle and stroked one of the metal struts which held up the canopy. Follet said, ‘Let me get in and out of this goddam wind. Where are we going?’

      ‘We’re booked in at the Royal Tehran Hilton. I don’t know where it is but it shouldn’t be too difficult to find.’ He pointed to a minibus filling up with passengers, СКАЧАТЬ