Part 23 (1/2)

'Completely and totally, Luke,' said Ollie, in his not-quite-right foreign-flavoured c.o.c.kney.

Switzerland was enjoying an early summer, Luke went on. Better then, on the Maoist principle, to take cover among the many than stick out like sore thumbs in a hamlet where every unknown face is an object of scrutiny all the more so if the face happens to be that of a bald, imperious Russian accompanied by two small girls, two boisterous teenage boys, a ravis.h.i.+ngly beautiful teenaged daughter and a semi-detached wife.

Neither did distance offer any protection in the view of the barefoot planners: quite the reverse, since the small airport at Berne-Belp was ideally suited to discreet departure by private plane.

After Luke, it was Ollie's turn, and Ollie, like Luke, was in his element, his style of reporting spa.r.s.e and careful. Having examined a number of possibilities, he said, he had settled on a built-for-rent modern chalet on the outer slopes of the popular tourist village of Wengen in the Lauterbrunnen valley, sixty minutes' drive and a fifteen-minute train journey from where they were now sitting.

'And frankly, if anybody anybody gives that chalet a second look, I'd be giving them one back,' he ended defiantly, tugging at the brim of his black hat. gives that chalet a second look, I'd be giving them one back,' he ended defiantly, tugging at the brim of his black hat.

The efficient Luke then handed each of them a piece of plain card bearing the chalet's name and address and its landline number for essential and innocuous calls to be made in the event of a problem with mobiles, though Ollie reported that in the village itself reception was immaculate.

'So how long are the Dimas going to be stuck up there?' Perry asked, in his role as prisoners' friend.

He hadn't really expected an informative answer, but Luke was surprisingly forthcoming certainly more than Hector would have been in similar circ.u.mstances. There were a bunch of Whitehall hoops that had to be gone through, Luke explained: Immigration, the Justice Ministry, the Home Office, to name but three. Hector's current efforts were directed at bypa.s.sing as many of them as he could until after Dima and family were safely housed in England: 'My ballpark estimate would be three to four days. Less if we're lucky, longer if we're not. After that, the logistics begin to fur up a bit.'

'Fur up?' Gail exclaimed incredulously. 'Like a water pipe water pipe?'

Luke blushed, then laughed along with them, then strove to explain. Ops like this one not that any two were ever the same had constantly to be revised, he said. From the moment Dima dropped out of circulation as of midday tomorrow, therefore, G.o.d willing there would be some sort of hue and cry for him, though what sort was anyone's guess: 'I simply mean, Gail, that from midday tomorrow on, the clock's ticking, and we have to be ready to adapt at short notice according to need. We can do that. We're in the business. It's what we're paid for.'

Urging the three of them to get an early night and call him at any hour if they felt the least need, Luke then returned to Berne.

'And if you're talking to the hotel switchboard, just remember I'm John Brabazon,' he reminded them, with a tight smile.

Alone in his bedroom on the first floor of Berne's resplendent Bellevue Palace Hotel with the River Aare running beneath his window and the far peaks of the Bernese Oberland black against the orange sky, Luke tried to reach Hector and heard his encrypted voice telling him to leave a b.l.o.o.d.y message unless the roof is falling in leave a b.l.o.o.d.y message unless the roof is falling in, in which case Luke's guess was as good as Hector's, so just get on with it and don't moan so just get on with it and don't moan, which made Luke laugh out loud, and also confirmed what he suspected: that Hector was locked in a life-and-death bureaucratic duel that had no respect for conventional working hours.

He had a second number to dial in emergency, but there being no emergency he knew of, he left a cheery message to the effect that the roof was thus far holding, Milton and Doolittle were at their posts and in good heart, and Harry was doing sterling work, and give his love to Yvonne. He then took a long shower and put on his best suit before going downstairs to begin his reconnaissance of the hotel. His feelings of liberation were if anything more p.r.o.nounced than at the Club des Rois. He was barefoot Luke, riding a cloud: no last-minute panic instructions from the fourth floor, no unmanageable overload of watchers, listeners, overflying helicopters and all the other questionable trappings of the modern secret operation; and no cocaine-driven warlord to chain him up in a jungle stockade. Just barefoot Luke and his little band of loyal troops one of whom he was as usual in love with and Hector in London fighting the good fight and ready to back him to the hilt: 'If in doubt, don't don't be. That's an order. Don't finger it, just b.l.o.o.d.y well be. That's an order. Don't finger it, just b.l.o.o.d.y well do do it,' Hector had urged him, over a hasty farewell malt at Charles de Gaulle Airport yesterday evening. 'I won't be carrying the can. I it,' Hector had urged him, over a hasty farewell malt at Charles de Gaulle Airport yesterday evening. 'I won't be carrying the can. I am am the f.u.c.king can. There's no second prize in this caper. Cheers and G.o.d help us.' the f.u.c.king can. There's no second prize in this caper. Cheers and G.o.d help us.'

Something had stirred in Luke at that moment: a mystical sense of bonding, of kins.h.i.+p with Hector that went beyond the collegial.

'So how is it with Adrian?' he inquired, recalling Matlock's gratuitous intrusion, and wanting to redress it.

'Oh, better, thanks. Much Much better,' said Hector. 'The shrinks reckon they've got the mixture pretty well right now. Six months, he could be out, if he behaves himself. How's Ben?' better,' said Hector. 'The shrinks reckon they've got the mixture pretty well right now. Six months, he could be out, if he behaves himself. How's Ben?'

'Great. Just great. Eloise too,' Luke replied, wis.h.i.+ng he hadn't asked.

At the hotel's front desk, an impossibly chic receptionist informed Luke that the Herr Direktor was doing his usual round of the bar guests. Luke walked straight up to him. He was good at this when he needed to be. Not your back-door artist like Ollie, maybe, more your front-door, in-your-face, sa.s.sy little Brit.

'Sir? My name's Brabazon. John Brabazon. First time I've stayed here. Can I just say something?'

He could, and the Herr Direktor, suspecting it was bad news, braced himself to hear it.

'This is simply one of the the most exquisite, unspoiled art nouveau hotels you probably don't use the word most exquisite, unspoiled art nouveau hotels you probably don't use the word Edwardian Edwardian! that I've come across in my travels.'

'You are a hotelier?'

'Afraid not. Just a lowlife journalist. Times Times newspaper, London. Travel section. Totally unannounced, I'm afraid, here on private business ...' newspaper, London. Travel section. Totally unannounced, I'm afraid, here on private business ...'

The tour began: 'So here is our ballroom which we are calling the Salon Royal,' the Direktor intoned in a well-trodden monologue. 'Here is our small banqueting room which we are calling our Salon du Palais, and here is our Salon d'Honneur where we are holding our c.o.c.ktail receptions. Our chef takes very much pride in his finger foods. And here is our restaurant La Terra.s.se, and actually the must must rendezvous for all fas.h.i.+onable Berne, but also our international guests. Many prominent persons have dined here including film stars, we can give you quite a good list, also the menu.' rendezvous for all fas.h.i.+onable Berne, but also our international guests. Many prominent persons have dined here including film stars, we can give you quite a good list, also the menu.'

'And the kitchens?' Luke asked, for he wished nothing to be left to chance. 'May I just take a peep if the chefs don't object?'

And when the Herr Direktor, somewhat exhaustively, had shown him all there was to be shown, and when Luke had duly swooned and taken copious notes, and for his own pleasure a few photographs with his mobile if the Herr Direktor didn't mind, but of course his paper would be sending a real photographer if that was acceptable it was he returned to the bar, and having treated himself to an improbably exquisite club sandwich and a gla.s.s of Dole, added a few necessary final touches of his own to his journalistic tour, which included such ba.n.a.l details as the lavatories, fire escapes, emergency exits, car-parking facilities and the projected rooftop gymnasium presently under construction, before retiring to his room and calling Perry to make sure all was well their end. Gail was asleep. Perry hoped to be any minute. Ringing off, Luke reflected that he had been as near to Gail in bed as he was ever likely to get. He rang Ollie.

'Everything just lovely, thank you, d.i.c.k. And the transport's tickety-boo, in case you were worrying at all. What did you make of those Arab coppers, by the way?'

'I don't know, Harry.'

'Me, neither. But never trust a copper, I say. All well otherwise, then?'

'Till tomorrow.'

And finally Luke phoned Eloise.

'Are you having a good time, Luke?'

'Yes, I am really, thank you. Berne's a really beautiful city. We should come here together sometime. Bring Ben.'

That's how we always talk: for Ben's sake. So that he has the full advantage of happy, heteros.e.xual parents.

'Do you want to speak to him?' she asked.

'Is he up? Don't tell me he's still doing his Spanish prep?'

'You're an hour ahead of us over there, Luke.'

'Ah yes, of course. Well, yes please, then. If I may. h.e.l.lo, Ben.'

'h.e.l.lo.'

'I'm in Berne, for my sins. Berne, Switzerland. The capital. There's a really fantastic museum here. The Einstein Museum, one of the best museums I've seen in my life.'

'You went to a museum museum?'

'Just for half an hour. Last night when I arrived. They were doing a late opening. Just across the bridge from the hotel. So I went.'

'Why?'

'I felt like it. The concierge recommended it, so I went.'

'Just like that?'

'Yes. Just like that.'