The Spy by clive cussler;Justin Scott

Author:clive cussler;Justin Scott [Cussler, Clive;Justin Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-05-12T20:34:15+00:00

“As if written in the stars!” Riker laughed. “Or should I say diamonds? For what are diamonds but man-size stars? My hunt begins this instant! Do not

hesitate to get in touch, Mr. Bel . In New York I stay at the Waldorf-Astoria. The hotel forwards my mail when I travel.”

“You can find me at the Yale Club,” said Bel , and they exchanged cards.

EVERY VAN DORN, from apprentice to chief investigator, was taught from the first day he went to work that coincidences were presumed guilty until

proven innocent. Bel asked Research to look into the gem importers Riker & Riker. Then he turned over his camera, ordered the film to be developed

and brought to him immediately, and went down to the hotel’s basement lobby, off of which was snugged a quiet, dimly lit bar.

Abbington-Westlake had arrived ahead of him, a good sign that he had frightened the daylights out of the Naval Attaché with his threat to go to the

British Embassy.

Bel decided that he would get more out of him now with a milder approach, and he said, “Thank you for coming.”

He saw immediately it was a mistake. Abbington-Westlake glowered imperiously, and snapped, “I don’t recal being offered a choice in the matter.”

“Your choice of snapshots,” Bel fired back, “would get you arrested if I were a government agent.”

“No one can arrest me. I have diplomatic immunity.”

“Wil your diplomatic immunity bail you out of trouble with your superiors in London?”

Abbington-Westlake’s lips shut tightly.

“Of course it won’t,” Bel said. “I’m not a government agent, but I certainly know where to find one. And the last thing you want is for your rivals in the

Foreign Office to learn you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.”

“See here, old boy, let’s not go off half cocked.”

“What did you bring me?”

“I beg your pardon?” Abbington-Westlake stal ed.

“Who did you bring me? Give me a name. A foreign spy whom I can have arrested instead of you.”

“Old chap, you have an extremely inflated estimate of my powers. I don’t know anyone to bring you.”

“And you have an extremely inflated estimate of my patience.” Bel glanced around inquiringly. Couples were drinking at the nearly dark tables. Several

men stood alone at the bar. Bel said, “Do you see the gentleman on the right? The one wearing the bowler hat?”

“What about him?”

“Secret Service. Shal I ask him to join us?”

The Englishman wet his lips. “Al right, Bel . Let me tel you what I can. I warn you it is very little.”

“Start smal ,” said Bel coldly. “We’l work from there.”

“Al right. Al right.” He wet his lips again and glanced around. Bel suspected that he was starting a lie. He let the Englishman speak without interruption.

After tangling himself in it, he would be more vulnerable to pressure.

“There is a Frenchman named Colbert,” Abbington-Westlake began. “He trades in arms.”

“Colbert, you say?” God bless the Van Dorn Research boys.

“Raymond Colbert. And while trading arms is hardly a savory enterprise, it is actual y a blind for Colbert’s sinister deeds .

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