The Unlikely Spy(54)

"This way, luv," he said. "Name's Dicky, by the way." He led her into a freight lift, pulled shut the doors, and pressed the button. Catherine reached into her purse for a cigarette and stuck it between her lips.

"Sorry, darling," said Dicky, waving a finger in disapproval. "The boss hates fags. Says one day we're going to find out they're killing us. Besides, there's enough petrol and ammunition in this place to blow us clear to Glasgow."





"That's some favor," Vernon Pope said. He rose from his comfortable leather sofa and roamed his office. It was not just an office but more like a small flat, with a seating area and a kitchen filled with modern appliances. There was a bedroom behind a pair of black teak doors. They parted briefly and Catherine spotted a drowsy blonde waiting impatiently for the meeting to conclude. Pope poured himself another whisky. He was tall and handsome, with pale skin, fair brilliantined hair, wintry gray eyes. His suit was carefully tailored and circumspect; it might have been worn by a successful executive or someone born to wealth.

"Can you imagine that, Robert? Catherine here actually wants us to spend three days chasing an American naval officer around the West End."

Robert Pope remained at the fringes, pacing like a skittish gray wolf.

"That's not really our line of work, Catherine darling," Vernon Pope said. "Besides, what if the Yank or British security boys catch on to our little game? The London police I deal with. MI-Five is another story."

Catherine withdrew a cigarette. "Do you mind?"

"If you must. Dicky, give her an ashtray."

Catherine lit the cigarette and smoked quietly for a moment. "I've seen the equipment you have downstairs in your warehouse. You could easily mount the kind of surveillance operation I'm talking about."

"And why in the world would a volunteer nurse from St. Thomas Hospital want to mount a surveillance operation on an Allied officer, Robert, I ask you?"

Robert Pope knew he was not expected to provide an answer. Vernon Pope moved to the window, drink cupped in his hand. The blackout curtains were raised, giving him a view of the boats working up and down the river. "Look at what the Germans have done to this place," he said finally. "Used to be the center of the world, the biggest port on the face of the earth. And now look at it: a bloody waste-land. Things will never be the same around here. You're not working for the Germans, are you, Catherine?"

"Of course not," she said calmly. "My reasons for following him are strictly personal."

"Good. I'm a thief but I'm still a patriot." He paused, then asked, "So why do you want him followed?"

"I'm offering you a job, Mr. Pope. Frankly, the reasons why are none of your business."

Pope turned around and faced her. "Very good, Catherine. You've got guts. I like that. Besides, you'd be a fool to tell me."

The bedroom doors parted and the blonde emerged, wearing a man's paisley silk robe. It was tied loosely at the waist, revealing a good pair of legs and small upturned breasts.

"Vivie, we're not finished yet," Pope said.

"I was thirsty." She glanced at Catherine while pouring herself a gin and tonic. "How much longer are you going to be, Vernon?"

"Not long. Business, darling. Back in the bedroom."

Vivie moved back to the bedroom, hips flowing beneath the gown. She threw another glance at Catherine over her shoulder before softly closing the door.

"Pretty girl," Catherine said. "You're a lucky man."

Vernon Pope laughed quietly and shook his head. "Sometimes I wish I could bestow some of my luck on another man."

There was a long silence while Pope paced the room. "I'm into a lot of shady things, Catherine, but I don't like this. I don't like it one little bit."

Catherine lit another cigarette. Maybe she had made a mistake by approaching Vernon Pope with the offer.

"But I'm going to do it. You helped my brother, and I made you a promise. I'm a man of my word." He paused, looking her up and down. "Besides, there's something about you I like. Very much."

"I'm glad we can do business together, Mr. Pope."

"It's going to cost you, luv. I've got a lot of overhead. I've got wages to pay. This kind of thing is going to take a good deal of my resources."

"That's why I came to you." Catherine reached inside her purse and withdrew an envelope. "How does two hundred pounds sound? One hundred now, one hundred on delivery of the information. I want Commander Jordan followed for seventy-two hours, twenty-four hours a day. I want a minute-by-minute accounting of his movements. I want to know where he eats, who he meets with, and what they talk about. I want to know if he's seeing any women. Can you manage that, Mr. Pope?"

"Of course."

"Good. Then I'll contact you on Saturday."

"How can I reach you?"

"Actually, you can't."

Catherine laid the envelope on the table and got to her feet.

Vernon Pope smiled pleasantly. "I thought you would say that. Dicky, show Catherine the way out. Put together a bag of groceries for her. Some coffee, some sugar, maybe a little tinned beef if that shipment came in. Something nice, Dicky."