A Spy in Casablanca by Terry Mort

Author:Terry Mort
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: McBooks Press
Published: 2022-04-07T00:00:00+00:00

In the morning I was reminded of that old blues song—“I woke up and found you gone.” It was nine a.m. and the other side of the bed was empty and not even still warm. Her pillow smelled good, but that was the only trace of Amanda.

As I got dressed I wondered where she was and what she was doing right now. With Amanda there was no use speculating. She could be at Charlie’s rehearsing with the band or on a plane heading for somewhere in Europe. Time would tell, maybe. Probably.

As I was dressing, I also thought about Martha and wondered what she was doing, if she had made it back to Havana yet or was still sitting on someone’s lap at Collier’s, sweet-talking him out of another assignment. And I wondered if I should be feeling guilty about last night. But that was only a fleeting and feckless question. There were a few things that I never wanted to be, and feckless was one of them. Besides, Martha and I had made no promises other than to try not to get killed, and to write. Maybe I’d write her a letter later today.

The truth was, I didn’t feel at all guilty about last night. I didn’t even feel guilty about not feeling guilty. It was something for the memory bank, something to draw from on cold, rainy nights in the future, something not to tell the grandchildren about. Amanda had a way of whispering—“Yes . . . just there”—that was something you would not forget, and didn’t want to.

I had agreed to meet King at his villa at ten that morning. And when I went downstairs and out the front door of the hotel, there was Moshe, waiting.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said.

“Good morning, Moshe. Pleasant evening?”

“Among my people, yes. In the district they call the mellah.”

“You have friends there?”

“Up to a point. But the cafés there are congenial, and I have found it convenient to rent a small room there. Colonel Eddy has me come to Casablanca quite often. Between Mr. King and the Colonel, I go back and forth quite often.”

“That’s funny. I thought you seemed uncomfortable at the border.”

“I was. Policemen make me nervous. It is cowardly, I know, but I cannot help it. Still, it is a good job, so I put up with my fears and my self-contempt.”

“Heard any good jokes lately?”

“Yes.” He looked over at me and smiled.

Point to Moshe. As a former private eye, I should be ashamed for asking a poorly worded question.

It was only a short drive to King’s villa.

“I will be available when you are finished,” said Moshe.

I didn’t bother asking how he would know.

“Have you had enough coffee?” King said, when we were seated in his comfortable living room.

“Yes, thanks.”

“You’re aware that our girl Yvonne is someone to be careful with.”

“I’ve known that for a couple of years. If she asked the time of day, she’d have an ulterior motive.”

“Good. Just so you know. I sometimes feed her tidbits of phony information.

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