The Department of Death by John Creasey

Author:John Creasey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Agora Books

16 / The Man to Kill

Grant was followed when he left the flat, followed to the underground station, followed when he reached the West End and went to his flat. A light burned in the room opposite, where the man with the umbrella still sat at his desk, as if absorbed in his papers. The flat was in darkness. He knew that a man had come up the stairs after him—knew that he would be watched, wherever he went, that a single false move would condemn him. But there was a chance of success.

He knew that the telephone at the flat might already be tapped. He could not speak to Craigie or Loftus from here. If he went to a telephone kiosk and made a call, he would be seen, Neilsen would be told.

Now he really knew what it was like to be working alone; and he had never been more desperately anxious to talk to Craigie!

He was to kill a man, and so prove himself to be worthy of working with Neilsen. That was the job worth doing. As he walked about the flat, his words and Neilsen’s hovered about his ears.

“If the job’s worth doing, I’ll do it.”

“It is worth doing, because if Benot dies, the spokesman for France will speak against unity,” Neilsen had said softly. “He is not one of us, but he will do more to set the Congress in uproar than anyone else. That is why we must kill Benot. And you will do it for us.”

“All right.”

Grant sweated, now, when he thought how casually he’d spoken. But the chance had been put into his hands, and had to be taken.

If he failed, he would never be able to justify himself in Neilsen’s eyes. One door was closed between him and Neilsen and the organization’s other leaders—one heavy door, bolted and barred by the existence of M. Benot. Benot’s death would open the door, and he could walk straight in.

Benot’s death.

That very night.

The Frenchman would be at another reception; a smaller one to be held at the American Embassy. It was to be a goodwill reception, where the U.S.A. would give its social blessing to the coming Congress. Neilsen had tickets; in any case, Grant could get in with his Z card, but he would be watched by Neilsen’s men. Every movement would be seen, every word he uttered would be overheard, every note he tried to write would be scrutinized. He could not get a message to anyone else in the Department, and it would be too late to get such a message through at the reception.

There wasn’t much time.

It was so easy to see how he could sit in at counsels of Neilsen and his friends without killing Benot; but to do that he must see Craigie. He must have ten minutes with Craigie, let his thoughts and the grand conception spill out of him. Ten minutes would do. Five. Yes, just five minutes alone with Craigie or with Loftus.

He put on every light in the flat.

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