The Unlikely Spy(55)

"I have a bad feeling about this one, Vernon," Robert Pope said. "Maybe we should drop the whole thing."

Vernon Pope hated to be questioned by his younger brother. As far as Vernon was concerned, he made the business decisions and Robert handled the muscle.

"It's nothing we can't handle. Did you have her followed?"

"Dicky and the boys picked her up as she left the warehouse."

"Good. I want to know who that woman is and what she's playing at."

"Maybe we could turn this to our advantage. We could buy ourselves some goodwill with the police if we quietly tell them what she's up to."

"We'll do nothing of the kind. Is that clear?"

"Maybe you should think a little more about business and a little less about getting it wet."

Vernon turned on him and grabbed him by the throat. "What I do is none of your goddamned business. Besides, it's a helluva lot better than what you and Dicky do."

Robert visibly reddened.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Robert? You think I don't know what goes on?"

Vernon released his grip.

"Now get out on the street where you belong and make sure Dicky doesn't lose her."

Catherine spotted the tail two minutes after leaving the warehouse. She had expected it. Men like Vernon Pope don't stay in business long unless they are cautious and suspicious. But the tail was clumsy and amateurish. After all, Dicky had been the one who had greeted her, searched her, and taken her inside. She knew his face. Stupid of them to put him on the street to follow her. Losing him would be easy.

She ducked into an underground station, melting into the evening crowds. She crossed through the tunnel and emerged on the other side of the street. A bus was waiting. She boarded it and found a seat next to an elderly woman. Through the fogged window she watched Dicky charge up the stairs into the street, panic on his face.

She felt a little sorry for him. Poor Dicky was no match for a professional, and Vernon Pope would be furious. She would take no chances: a taxi ride, two or three more buses, a stroll through the West End before returning to her flat.

For now she settled into her seat and enjoyed the ride.





The bedroom was dark when Vernon Pope entered and quietly closed the doors. Vivie rose to her knees at the end of the bed. Vernon kissed her deeply. He was being rougher than usual. Vivie thought she knew why. She slid her hand down the front of his trousers. "Oh, my God, Vernon. Is this for me or that bitch?"

Vernon parted the silk robe and pushed it down over her shoulders. "A little of both, I'm afraid," he said, kissing her again.

"You wanted her right there in the office. I could see it on your face."

"You always were a perceptive little girl."

She kissed him again. "When is she coming back?"

"End of the week."

"What's her name?"

"Calls herself Catherine."

"Catherine," Vivie said. "What a lovely name. She's beautiful."

"Yes," Pope said distantly.

"What kind of business is she into?"

Pope told her about the meeting; there were no secrets between them.

"Sounds a bit touchy. I think we could bring a good bit of leverage to bear on her."

"You're a very smart girl."

"No, just a very nasty girl."

"Vivie, I can tell when your mind is working in evil ways."

She laughed wickedly. "I have three days to dream up all the wonderful things we can do to that woman when she comes back. Now, take off your pants so I can help ease your pain."

Vernon Pope did as he was told.

A moment later there was a soft knock at the door. Robert Pope stepped inside without waiting for an answer. A shaft of light partially illuminated the scene. Vivie looked up, unashamed, and smiled. Vernon exploded in anger.

"How many times have I told you not to come in here when the door is closed?"

"It's important. She got away from us."

"How in the hell did that happen?"

"Dicky swears she was there one minute and gone the next. She just vanished."

"For Christ's sake!"

"No one gets away from Dicky. She's obviously a professional. We ought to stay as far away from her as possible."

Vivie felt a stab of panic.

"Get out of here and close the door, Robert."

When Robert was gone, Vivie licked Vernon playfully.

"You're not going to take that little queer's advice, are you, Vernon?"

"Of course not."

"Good," she said. "Now, where were we?"

"Oh, my God," Vernon groaned.





19


LONDON





Early the following morning, Robert Pope and Richard "Dicky" Dobbs made their unwitting debut in the world of wartime espionage with a hastily improvised surveillance of Commander Peter Jordan that would have made the watchers of MI5 a touch green with envy.

It began before the damp freezing dawn, when the pair arrived outside Jordan's Edwardian house in Kensington in a black paneled van, complete with boxes of tinned food in the back and the name of a West End grocer on the side. They waited there until shortly before eight o'clock, Pope dozing, Dicky nervously munching a soggy bun and drinking coffee from a paper cup. Vernon Pope had threatened him with grievous bodily harm over last night's foul-up with the woman. He was damned if he was going to lose Peter Jordan. Dicky, considered the finest wheel man in London's criminal underground, had secretly vowed to pursue Jordan across the lawns of Green Park if need be.