79.

'Who can pull off big jobs for only the New York Record to write about. To put it bluntly, I need an outfit of experienced, organized thugs to do what they do best. I want them to work for me full time. I want them to make news for me. No killing, no murdering. But a hijacking, a sensational robbery, most of all a name kidnapping. High-cla.s.s stuff. Front-page caliber.'

This was closer to Pagano's area, and he understood completely. 'This could be dangerous.'

'So is deep-sea diving and riding a s.p.a.ce capsule.'

'People'll be putting up their lives for - for news.'

'For money.' Armstead enunciated each word. 'The Cooper gang wants money, you said. I've got money.'

'What kind of money would you be talking about?'

'Maybe three million dollars a job.'

Pagano emitted a low whistle.

'Think they'd be interested?' Armstead wanted to know.

'Depends what you want them to do. But three mill. Yeah, they'd be interested.'

'Of course, I don't want them to know who I am. They must not know whom they are working for - or why. I want to a.s.sign them jobs - through you. No questions to be asked. I want the jobs done professionally, cleanly. For each job they'll get paid. You believe they'll be interested?'

'I'm guessing. I think so.'

'Can you find out for sure?'

'You mean make contact with Cooper?'

'Yes.'

'I can make contact,' said Pagano.

'Then make it,' said Armstead. It was an order. 'There'll be plenty in it for you, Gus. Go to London and find out if they'll cooperate.'

'You sound like you mean right away,'

'I mean tonight. I'll make arrangements for you. I expect to hear from you in forty-eight hours.'

At eleven o'clock in the evening, two days later, Armstead received his call.

He had just walked through the door of his Fifth Avenue penthouse overlooking Central Park when Hannah, from her wheelchair, a telephone receiver in her hand, raised her voice. 'Is that you, Edward?'

'It's me.'

'There's a long-distance call for you. From London.'

Armstead's heart quickened. 'Tell them to call me back on my private line. I'll take it in my study.'

He yanked off his raincoat, threw it aside, hurried to his study, let himself in, and carefully relocked his door from the inside. He strode to the white telephone, his very private telephone that had an 80 unlisted number different from the one for the other rooms of the penthouse. He waited a few moments for the phone to ring. Finally it rang.

Hastily he lifted the receiver. 'h.e.l.lo.'

A female operator's voice. 'Is this Mr. Armstead?'

'Yes, this is Edward Armstead.'

'Mr. Pagano calling from London, person-to-person.'

'Okay, put Mr. Pagano on.'

The line from London crackled, but Pagano's voice came on distinctly. 'You there, boss?'

'Hi, Gus. Okay, what's the word?'

'All signals Go.'

'All signals Go. What does that mean?'

'Cooper is definitely interested,' said Pagano. 'But there's just one thing -'

'They are interested, you say - but what?' 'They want to meet with you in person, over here. I think they want to know exactly what you have in mind for them. We can fix it so's you won't be recognized. If it's not too much trouble. I think it would be worth -'

'It's not too much trouble,' Armstead cut in. 'If they want to see me first, I'll see them. I'll be there.'

'Can you make it by tomorrow?'

'Yes, tomorrow's okay. I'll take the Concorde. I'll get on the first flight.'

'If you'll let me know your arrival time, I'll meet you at Heathrow. Set you up for a suite in the Ritz.'

'I'll let you know the time. You'll meet me at Heathrow? Fine. The suite at the Ritz is also fine.'

'You won't be bringing anybody along?'

'Bringing anybody? No, don't worry. I'll be alone. See you tomorrow.'

He hung up slowly.

He felt exultant.

He was almost - almost - in the terrorist business for himself.

CHAPTER SIX.

The chauffeured black Rolls-Royce turned off Piccadilly, moved around the block to draw up before the Arlington Street side of the Ritz Hotel in London.

Gus Pagano quickly stepped out of the car, with Edward Armstead right behind him. The doorman tried to take Armstead's Mark Cross bag and wardrobe, but Pagano insisted on carrying them himself. The evening was chilly, and they ascended the steps and hastened into the warmth of the hotel lobby.

Pagano guided Armstead away from the registration alcove to their left. 'I've already registered you under my name, Mr. Armstead. We better go straight to your suite.'

81.

They proceeded through the long lobby, turned right to the waiting elevator, and rode up to the fifth floor. Rounding a corner, they arrived at 518, Armstead's suite. After getting rid of his hat and light topcoat, Armstead was eager to learn more about what lay ahead. At Heathrow Airport they had hardly been able to talk, since the hired chauffeur had joined them almost immediately. After that, during the drive to London, even though the chauffeur's window part.i.tion was closed Pagano had cautioned his employer against conversation.

Now, in the Ritz suite parlor, at 9:35, Armstead was at last able to ask Pagano, 'How interested are they?'

'I'd say Cooper was very interested. Enough to tell me to bring you over to London right away. The three-million-dollar paycheck hooked him.'

'You did tell him I'd pay that much for each job?'

'Yeah, I sure did. That's what got him. But he's not sewed up yet, boss. He wants to meet you, hear it from you exactly what you got in mind.'

'I'm ready if he is,' said Armstead. 'When do we meet?'

'Now.'

'Where?' Armstead wanted to know.

'Here,' said Pagano. 'Next door. I reserved a two-bedroom-and-living-room suite for you. They're in the other bedroom waiting for you.'

For the first time since his arrival Armstead felt a surge of antic.i.p.ation, the kind a leading man must feel when the curtain goes up on a Broadway first night, or a football player feels before a crucial kickoff. There was also something else inside him, a pulsating curiosity to meet live terrorists in person, not actually terrorists yet but widely feared, successful criminals, men who inhabited a secretly populated world outside the law.

'How many of them are there?' Armstead asked.

'Should be Cooper and two of his aides. I showed Cooper to the room, and he said he expected two more of his crowd to join him. That was when I went to meet you at Heathrow. By now they should all be there.' Pagano studied his employer. 'Maybe you want to rest a few minutes first? I mean, you just got off the plane.'

'It was no more tiring than taking a car across midtown Manhattan.'

'So you're ready to see Cooper and his men?'

'I'm ready.'

Pagano held up a hand. 'Not quite,' he said. He reached inside his sports jacket. There had been some object bulking it up behind the breast pocket. Pagano removed the object and handed it to Armstead.

'What's this?' said Armstead, flattening it out. 'Looks like a ski mask.'

'A pa.s.se-montagne,' said Pagano. 'A mountain climber's mask. Also, a ski mask. Better put it on if you don't want no one to recognize you. It's a little warm, but it'll hide your face.'

82.

Armstead gave Pagano an appreciative nod. 'You're on the ball, Gus.' He pulled the woolen mask over his head. Armstead stepped to the entry hall mirror and viewed his reflection. 'Grotesque but efficient.'

'Okay, let's get in there,' said Pagano.

He unlocked the door to the second bedroom and pushed it aside. Armstead entered awkwardly and tried to get his bearings. The large room had been darkened except for a few lamps. There were two isolated folding chairs past the bed at one end of the room. Facing them were an armchair and a sofa bearing male occupants, each man in tie and jacket. None wore masks.

A rangy man with matted hair, hooded brown eyes, a drooping brown mustache, and a gaunt, seamed, expressionless face uncurled from the sofa, straightened his tweed jacket and came forward, hand extended. 'I'm Cooper.'

Pagano quickly introduced Armstead. 'My boss.'

'Walter Zimberg,' announced Armstead, 'for purposes of identification.' He shook hands. 'Glad to meet you.' Cooper pointed to the other two in the bedroom, giving their names almost indistinctly.

'Krupinski... Quiggs.' He added, 'If necessary, you'll meet the rest of our board of directors later -De Salvo, Overly, Shields, Lafair. Now we might as well get down to business.' He headed back to the sofa and took a seat.

Armstead sat gingerly, well to the front of his folding chair, while Pagano occupied the chair beside him.

Armstead cleared his throat. 'You all know the reason for this meeting?'

'Let's be certain that we have it right,' said Cooper. 'You want to hire an experienced organization in order to instigate a series of actions. You are ready to pay three million dollars for each individual action.'

'Correct,' said Armstead.

'We won't ask you why you want these jobs done,' said Cooper. 'That's your business.'

'It's not political,' said. Armstead hastily.

'No matter,' replied Cooper. 'Before we can determine if we will work for you, we must know exactly what you want done. Does this involve murder?'

Armstead was horrified. 'Absolutely not,' he answered quickly. His woolen mask was beginning to itch. He clasped a hand more tightly against one thigh. The bland use of the word 'murder' had unnerved him. He tried to recover his poise, his voice, his prepared speech. 'I'm mainly interested in kidnapping,' he announced. 'Maybe robbery later. But the first job is a kidnapping. I want you to abduct a well-known person, keep him in hiding two days, demand a ransom - not too large a sum, a reasonable amount that can be raised and paid easily - you can keep the sum, the payoff. I told you this is not political, but I think it would be smart to make it look political, maybe instead of money ask for the release of a political prisoner, some minor radical figure. You'd free the kidnap victim after two days, because I want to lessen the risk of your getting caught. An important consideration is that Gus Pagano must be added to your organization as my 83 representative. He will help you when he can, mainly he is to act as my liaison man, be accountable strictly to me. If this can be done, I'll be satisfied.'

'Where does our first action happen?' inquired Cooper.

'San Sebastian, Spain,' said Armstead.

'When?'