Intrigue: A Johnny Fedora Espionage Spy Thriller Assignment Book 4 by Desmond Cory

Author:Desmond Cory [Cory, Desmond]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-23T00:00:00+00:00

10

THE telephone purred against Johnny’s ear, like a contented cat. He stood leaning against the door of the wooden telephone booth, watching the road that curled away towards the sea and the smudge of the naval docks. The air held the shimmering stillness of evening.

The telephone stopped purring, and emitted a loud click. There was a pause, then a cautious voice said, “Yes?”

“Hullo, Tiddler. So you’re back.”

A long expiration of breath. “So it’s you. I’ve heard all about it… Where are you, for the love of Moses?”

“… You reckon the line’s tapped?”

“No, you’re safe enough.”

“I’m at Monfalcone, just outside the station. Waiting for a train.”

“I see. Having any trouble?”

“Nothing serious.” Johnny chuckled. “I’ve been lying up in the hills. Things have been pretty quiet, these last few hours.”

“You’ve had a lucky break. The police have all been recalled.”

“ Why?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did. Something’s up. What are your plans?”

Johnny shifted his position and glanced towards the railway station. “There’s a train due in twenty minutes’ time. I’m going to catch it.”

“For Trieste, you mean?”

“Sure.”

“Well, be careful. There’s a check at Aurisana.”

“Teach your grandmother,” said Johnny cheerfully. “I should be back in an hour’s time. What sort of luck did you have with your trip?”

“Not much. Hang on a moment.”

Johnny waited.

“… It’s all right. What were you saying?”

“I asked if you had any news.”

“Not a lot. Hunter wasn’t much use, I’m afraid. But I’ve had a long chat with the primeval Forrest, and he tells me Gordini’s boys have traced that photographer all right.”

“Oh yes?”

“He doesn’t remember a thing. Naturally; he takes a hundred shots a day. But he did record the date. He sent that photograph to Signorina Fagiano on May 23rd, and he reckons he must have taken the shot two days earlier.”

“May 21st?

“Clever of you to work that out. Interesting, isn’t it? Since Panagos claims to have arrived here on June 4th.”

“But that was checked by the police, wasn’t it?”

“Precisely. The point is that he was here before. In other words, we’ve broken his story at last.”

Johnny whistled a few bars to himself. “You say you haven’t got anything further on the girl?”

“No official record,” said Trout curtly. “They’re still working on the Panagos file, though; it’s about the size of War and Peace, and if they turn up anything they’ll let me know. The only other thing I’ve found out about her might mean anything or nothing. It appears she’s a Medici.”

“A what?”

“She’s descended from the Medicis. A well-known Italian family that at one time more or less cornered the market in skulduggery. It’s an interesting sidelight.”

“Now look, Tiddler. Never mind about all that. You know that note of hers that Partini gave me?”

“Yes. The police have got it now.”

“Well, I want you to go and get it back. At any rate, have a look at it. Make sure that the initials on it do read G. F.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because they should read G. P.”

There was a silence. Then, “I suppose they should,” said Trout slowly.

“It stands to reason, doesn’t it? If she knew who he really was, she’d have put G.

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