To the Stars Trilogy Part 12

So quickly? Someone had been in the flat while he was away.

He was innocent, he had to keep thinking that, inno-cent. And they could be watching him right now. Jan looked around slowly; nothing visible of course. He tried the windows, one by one, but all were closed and locked. Then he went to his wall safe and pressed the combina-tion, flipped through the papers and cash inside. Every-thing looked in order. If Security had been her~it had to be them-they would surely have found his simple alarm system. Having it wasn't illegal, in fact it was a precaution most of his friends used. Now, there must be a natural reaction. He went to the phone, looking as angry as he felt, and called Building Management.

"Entered while you were away, sir? We have no record of any maintenance or emergency people going in during your absence."

"Bur~ars, thieves then. I thought you had security in this building?"

"We do, sir, the best. I'll check the recordings at once; Is anything missing?"

"Nothing that I can see after a quick look around, nothing important." He realized that he was looking at the TV while he talked, noticing the marks on the rug. "There is something, I just noticed. The TV has been moved. Perhaps they tried to steal it."

"There is that possibility. I'll report it to the police-and send up the mechanic to change the combination on your front door lock."

"Do that. Now. I'm not happy about this."

"Nor should you be, sir. A complete investigation will be made."

How subtle they were, Jan thought. Could the TV have been left off the marks on the rug on purpose?

Was this a warning, a slight nudge in the ribs? He didn't know. But now that he had seen the moved set, reported it, he had to investigate further. If he were innocent that is what he would do.

He rubbed his jaw as he walked around the set. Then knelt to look at the screws that held the back in place. One of them had a fresh s.h.i.+ne where a screwdriver had recently cut the surface. They had been inside it!

Within ten minutes he had the back off, the guts pulled, the circuit boards out-and was looking at the device wired across the power leads on one of them. It was the size of an acorn and shaped very much like one, with a glint of crystal in the rounded end. It had lined up with a tiny hole drilled in the front panel.

Bugged! With a sharp movement he pulled it loose and bounced it in his palm angrily, making up his mind what to do next, what he would do if he were as innocent as he pretended to be. He went to the phone and called Thurgood-Smythe at home. His sister answered.

"Jan, darling, it's been ages! If you're free tomorrow...

"Sorry, Liz, all tied up. And it was Smitty I wanted to talk to in any case."

'And not a word for your sister I suppose?" She pushed her hair back with her hand and tried to look martyred, but did not succeed very well.

"I'm a beast, Liz, you've always known that. But I'm in a rush now. We'll get together next week, I promise.

"You better. There's the sweetest girl I want you to meet."

"Lovely." He sighed heavily. "Now would you kindly put me through to your husband?"

"Of course. Wednesday at eight." She blew him a kiss and touched the transfer b.u.t.ton. An instant later Thurgood-Smythe was on the screen.

"Somedne broke into my apartment while I was away, Jan said.

"Petty crime is getting very bad this winter. But not my department, as you must know. I'll transfer this to the police...

"Perhaps it zi your department. Nothing was stolen but I found this wired to the TV" He held it up.

"Very compact, very expensive. I haven't looked inside it but I imagine it has full sound video and broadcasts a signal for at least a kilometer. If it doesn't belong to your people it is certainly something you would want to know about."

"Indeed it is. I'll look into it at once. Are you involved in anything the industrial espionage people might have an interest in?"

"No. Communication satellite work."

"Then it is mysterious. I'll have that gadget picked up and let you know."

Jan had just finished putting the back on the set when the door annunciator chimed. A heavy-built man somber expression stood outside and produced a Security identification which he held before the camera when asked.

"That was quick," Jan said, letting him in.

"You have something for me?" the man said, tonelessly.

"Yes, here it is."

The Security man pocketed the bug without looking at it. He was staring at Jan instead, coldly. "Don't mention this to Mr. Thurgood-Smythe again," he said.

"'What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"I mean exactly what I said. The matter is out of your brother-in-law's hands because of the family relations.h.i.+p." He turned to leave and Jan called after him, angrily.

"You can't just walk out after saying that kind of thing. Who are you to order me about? 'What is the meaning of this bug?"

"You tell me," the man said, turning about sharply. 'Are you guilty of anything? Do you have a statement to make?"

Jan felt the color rising in his face. "Get out," he finally said. "Get out and don't bother me again. I don't know what this is about and I don't care. Just go away and stay away.

The door closed and it was the door of a cage. Jan was locked in and they were watching him from the outside.

During the day the circuitry work occupied his mind. He buried himself in the communication satellite~much to the pleasure of Sonia Amarigli~working hard to distract his thoughts. He was usually the last one to leave at night. Tired, and very glad that he was. A few drinks at the bar, sometimes even eating dinner there, staying on until he was tired enough to go home and to bed. It was foolish of him-he knew that surveillance could work as well any place-but he detested the idea that they were watching and listening in his own flat. Nor did he bother to search for any of the devices. That would be a fool's game. Better to imagine that he was being watched at all times and act accordingly.

It was the following 'Wednesday morning when his brother-in-law phoned him in the laboratory.

"Morning, Jan. Elizabeth asked me to call you."

The silence stretched as Jan waited. Thurgood-Smythe was silent as well, watching; It was obvious that nothing more was going to be said about Security.

"How is Liz?" Jan finally answered. "What's up?"

"Dinner tonight. She was afraid you would forget."

"I didn't forget. But I just won't be able to make it. I was going to call with my apologies..."

"Too late. There's someone else coming and it would be impossible to cancel now. Too embarra.s.sing for her."

"Oh, G.o.d. She did say something about another of her girls! You couldn't...

"Not easily. Better take your medicine. From the way she talks this one is really something different.

From Ireland, Dublin, all the charm of the Gael and the beauty and so forth."

"Sto~I've heard it often enough in the past. See you at eight."

Jan broke the connection first, a feeble gesture that made him feel better. He had forgotten the d.a.m.n dinner. If he had called earlier he could have gotten out of it-but not on the same day. Liz would be too unbearable. In fact it might be a good idea to go. Get a decent meal for a change-the food in the bar was giving him indigestion. And it wouldn't hurt Security to be reminded whom he was related to. And the girl might be presentable, though Liz's choices usually weren't. Social connections were more important to her than grace of form, and she had trotted out some diabolical women.

He left work early in the afternoon and mixed a drink for himself at home, soaking some of the tension out in a hot bath, then changing into a good suit. Liz would be looking daggers through him all night if he wore the shabby jacket he used for the office. She might even burn his food. It was best to stay on Liz's best side for peace of life.

The Thurgood~Smythes had a Georgian house in Barnet and the drive made Jan feel better. The country-side was attractive under the waning moon, silver and black and hard. Though it was already March, the winter showed no sign of loosening its grip. All of the lights in the front of the house appeared to be on, but there was only one car in the drive. Well, he would smile and be polite. And at least the food would be good. And he ought to play a few games of snooker with his brother-in-law, whether he wanted to be with him or not. The past was gone. The present and the future had to be innocent.

There was the sound of female laughter from the drawing room and Thurgood-Smythe rolled his eyes as he took Jan's coat. "Elizabeth has made a mistake this time," he said. "This one is actually bearable to look at."

"Thank G.o.d for small blessings. I can hardly wait."

"Is it going t~ be whiskey?"

"Please. Malt."

He put his gloves inside his fur hat and dropped them onto the table, then gave his hair a quick comb in the mirror. There was more laughter and the clink of gla.s.ses and he followed the sound.

Thurgood-Smythe was bent over the drinks trolley. Elizabeth waved to him and the other woman on the sofa turned toward him and smiled.

It was Sara.

Sixteen.

It took all of Jan's will, all of his years of practice~at school in not showing emotion, to stop himself from letting his jaw hang or from popping his eyes. "h.e.l.lo, Liz," he said, in what was definitely not his normal voice, and walked around the couch to kiss her on the cheek. She hugged him to her.

"Darling, so wonderful to see you. I've even made you a special meal, you'll see."

Thurgood-Smythe pa.s.sed him a drink in a natural way, then refreshed his own. Didn't they know? Was this a farce~or a trap? He finally let himself look at Sara who was sitting demurely, knees together, sipping a small sher-ry. Her dress was long and dark green, with an old-fas.h.i.+oned look, a gold brooch at her throat the only jewelry.

"Jan, I want you to meet Orla Mountcharles. From Dublin. We went to the same school, not at the same time of course. Now we belong to the same bridge club and I couldn't resist bringing her home so we could chat some more. I knew you wouldn't mind, isn't that right?"

"My pleasure. You've a treat in store, Miss Mountcharles, if you've never tasted Liz's cooking before."

"Orla, please, we're not too formal at home." There was a touch of Irish accent to her voice. She smiled at him warmly, then sipped delicately at her sherry. He desperately drank half the whiskey in a gulp and started coughing.

"Sorry, not enough water?" Thurgood-Smythe asked, hurrying over with the jug.

"Please," Jan gasped. "Sorry about that."

"You're just out of training. Have another one and I'll show you the new cloth on the snooker table."

"Finally replaced. It would have had value as an antique in a few more years.

"Indeed. But you can roll into the top pocket now, you don't need to pot with force to get over that ripple."

It was easy to chat like that, to turn away and follow to the billiard room. What was she doing here?

What was this madness?

Dinner was not the trial he thought it would be. The food-as always-was wonderful, beef Wellington with four kinds of vegetables. Sara was demure and quiet, and talking with her was like playing a role on stage. He hadn't realized how much he had missed her, how empty he had felt when he knew that he would never see her again. Yet here she was-in the heart of Security. There was an explanation, of course, but he did not dare ask it. The talk was light, the food, and brandy after, very good. He even managed to play snooker and beat Thurgood-Smythe two games out of three.

"Too good for me," his brother-in-law said.

"Don't apologize-just pay up the five quid you owe me.

"Did we really agree on a fiver a game? All right, you're correct of course. Better than usual, our little Irish colleen."

"Better! Smas.h.i.+ng is the word. 'Where on earth did Liz ever find one like this?"

"The bridge club, she said. I may take the game up myself if this is what the players look like."

"Well don't let on to Liz or she'll be insufferable and she'll be throwing a new one at my head every night."

"Settle for this one, you could do a lot worse."

"I might very well do that."

There was no hint of duplicity or hidden motives in Tburgood-Smythe's voice. The Security officer seemed far away. Could it be true, Jan kept asking himself. Has she really been accepted as an Irish girl?

Then, perhaps she is one. He must know.

"It's starting to snow again," Sara said later, as they were getting their coats. "I do hate to drive in the snow~ Liz impaled Jan with the sternest of looks while her husband, in the background, rolled his eyes heavenward and grinned.

"The roads aren't bad yet," Jan said weakly.

"But they'll only get worse," Liz insisted, and went so far as to jab her elbow into his ribs when Sara faced away. "This is no night for a girl to drive alone." Her gaze, when it rested on Jan, would have frozen a pail of water.

"No, of course you're right," he hurried to say. "Orla, perhaps I can drive you?"

"I don't want to take you out of your way...

"Not a problem," Thurgood-Smythe said. "He's no more than five minutes from the West End. And I'll have one of my drivers bring the car around to your club in the morning."

"Then it's all set," Liz said, smiling her warmest. "So you needn't worry about the drive at all."

Jan made his good-byes, kissed his sister affectionately, then went to get the car. While the heater took the chill off the interior he scrawled a quick note and palmed it. Sara was waiting at the front door and he held the door open for her, handing her the note as she came in. She had just enough time to read the two words there before the courtesy light went out. CAR BUGGED. As soon as they were out of sight of the house she nodded agreement.

"'Where can 1 take you, Orla?" he asked.

"I really am sorry to make you go out of your way. It's the Irish Club in Belgravia, a bit of the ould sod abroad as people say. I always stay there when I'm in London. It's not really grand, but very homey.

'With a friendly little bar. They do a lovely hot whiskey, Irish whiskey of course."