Текст книги "The Thinking Machine Affair"

Автор книги: Joel Bernard

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Two hours later, the funeral directors called at the U.N.C.L.E. office on the third floor of the whitestone to collect the body, and Illya was ready at his well-picked observation post when the closed van arrived and the coffin was carried into the funeral parlor.

Later, Illya stepped into a deserted doorway, took out his miniature shortwave transmitter-receiver, and said: "Open Channel D."

Within seconds, Waverly replied.

"A relative has claimed the body, sir," Illya reported.

"Arrangements have been made to fly the body tomorrow morning to Vienna, on the scheduled eight o'clock plane. I've booked a seat on it and will report from Vienna."

Channel D closed, and Alexander Waverly sat back in his chair.

CHAPTER FOUR

"DEAR DADDY–COME AT ONCE!"

THE Chief Organizing Officer at THRUSH'S European Center E made no attempt to conceal his anger. He ranted at the Chief of the Special Tasks Department for having given Vlasta Novak too much of the odorless gas.

"Almost twelve hours have elapsed since she was brought here and there's no hope of her regaining consciousness for hours yet!" he bellowed.

"How could anyone anticipate that she'd pass out so completely?" the Special Tasks Chief retorted, trying to justify his action.

"You know the strength of the gas, and you also know that once a person loses consciousness the supply must be stopped and fresh air allowed in to prevent over-doping!"

"How often must I repeat that we were unable to comply with the directions for the application of the gas?" the Special Tasks boss demanded. "I intercepted her at the Research Institute, told the story about her father's accident and offered to drive her to him. She was stunned but boarded the car. I was afraid she might turn awkward if I drove in the opposite direction to her father's villa, so I propelled a good whiff of the gas into the coupé to knock her out quickly."

"That's all well and good, but as soon as she'd passed out you should have opened the rear windows," countered the Chief Organizing Officer. "It only means pulling a lever."

"I've already told you that the electric window action wasn't working," the Special Tasks boss grunted. "And I also told you I couldn't risk stopping and opening the windows manually with the streets so full of people. Stopping, leaving the car and opening rear windows would have centered attention on me and the unconscious girl and might have endangered the whole operation. It's one of those unfortunate things, but the doctor should have brought her round long ago."

"The doctor made it perfectly clear that if he tried to revive her by drastic measures these could have fatal consequences. He should know—he's familiar with the effects of this gas, after all."

"Then there's nothing we can do but wait until she wakes. She can't sleep till doomsday."

"No, but time is precious. You know we need to get the Professor and his apparatus here as quickly as possible; and to do that without fuss and bother we need the assistance of his daughter."

At this moment the communication buzzer sounded. When the closed circuit television set was switched on, the Monitoring Officer appeared on the screen, to say:

"I've just received a message from New York, sir. It's short but satisfactory. Shall I send the tape to your office?"

"Play it back for me," the Chief Organizing Officer grunted.

A moment later the tape announced:

"Operation successful. Body claimed and arrangements for home burial made. Shall advise you after landing and European clearance."

"That's all, sir," the Monitoring Officer said.

"Thank you. Let me have the tape for filing."

"Very well, sir."

"Excellent news," the Chief of the Special Tasks Department exclaimed jubilantly. "This means 'Operation U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters' was carried out successfully and everything is set for the destruction of U.N.C.L.E."

"Yes, everything is ready for action, yet this Novak woman snores away merrily and delays our grabbing her father." The Chief Organizing Officer sighed at the dismal thought.

The Medical Officer had watched Vlasta from the moment she had been brought to THRUSH European Center E, and now he noted that the gas was beginning to lose its grip on her brain. "If these signs are not misleading, she should regain full consciousness fairly soon," he assured the Chief Organizing Officer through the telecomm.

"I'd better come round to the Medical Room to be there when she revives."

"I wouldn't advise it," the Medical Officer replied. "This gas has a peculiar effect on the brain. If anyone regaining consciousness is subjected to a shock of any sort there's a danger of complete insanity. That would knock your plans sideways."

"What do you suggest?"

"Leave her alone and let her come round gradually and undisturbed. Once she's her normal self, there's no danger of insanity and it's safe for you to see her."

"You mean you want to leave her to herself?"

"Yes, she must be left alone at first if the danger of possible shock is to be prevented."

"How will we know when she's ready for persuasion?"

"Oh, I'll be watching her continuously on the television screen in my office. Why not join me and watch her progress too?"

"I'll be with you presently," the Chief Organizing Officer replied.

Vlasta slowly came to. She felt terribly tired, her eyelids too heavy to open, with headache and dizziness upsetting her. As the effects of the gas diminished, her brain began to function normally and the tiredness and other symptoms slowly left her, until she drifted into a light, refreshing slumber.

"It won't be long now," said the Medical Officer, watching her on the television screen. "This light sleep will only last a short while, and then when she wakes she'll be normal."

Within half an hour, Vlasta opened her eyes, yawned and stretched. She sat up, looked around, and tried to puzzle out where she was.

"I'd better go in," the Chief Organizing Officer suggested.

"Not yet; there's still the possibility of shock," the Medical Officer warned him. "I'll see her first and condition her mind to her surroundings. It won't take long before you can step in."

He slipped into a doctor's white coat and entered the adjoining Medical Room.

"Oh, good," he said as he opened the door. "I'm happy to see you well again."

"What's happened to me, doctor?" Vlasta enquired.

"Don't you know?"

"Well, I remember having been told about father's accident as I left the Research Institute, and I remember boarding a car to be taken to him. Then I felt a choking sensation and wanted to wind down the window to let in some fresh air. I couldn't open the window because my arm and hand seemed useless—and that's the last thing I know. I must have lost consciousness."

"You did, Miss Novak," the doctor confirmed. "Fortunately the driver noticed your alarming condition in the driving mirror and brought you here. You arrived in time and the stomach pump and oxygen equipment saved you."

"What was the matter?"

"Food poisoning, Miss Novak, acute food poisoning. But that's over and done with now and you're back to normal."

"Acute food poisoning?" Vlasta exclaimed, surprised. "That doesn't make sense. How could I have got food poisoning? I had breakfast and lunch at the Research Institute and it tasted all right."

"One can't always judge from the taste of food whether it's all right or not, and apart from that, some people react worse to poisoning than others." The doctor sounded plausible.

"You ought to know," she succumbed.

"Yes."

"How is my father?"

"Oh, fine, fine. He's longing to see you as soon as possible—indeed, as soon as you want him to come."

"But he had an accident. Surely it's I who should go and see him?"

"The accident was really a false alarm. There's nothing to worry about. Your father is in perfect shape, but I'm afraid we can't release you yet because..."

"But you said earlier that the food poisoning was over and done with, and that I was back to normal," Vlasta interrupted. "If that's so there's no need for me to stay. I feel fine, really fine."

"Acute food poisoning and its aftereffects are not as simple as you think, Miss Novak. I repeat that the food poisoning is over and done with and you are back to normal, but I must add that in cases such as yours the patient must be kept under observation to detect whether there is any possibility of recurrence."

"All right then, doctor, you know best," Vlasta agreed. "When will it be possible for my father to come and see me?"

"I think you'd better discuss this with the gentleman who arranges this sort of thing—I'm only concerned with medical matters. He'll see you presently."

"Thank you, doctor."

The Medical Officer left to rejoin the Chief Organizing Officer. "She's all yours now. There's no longer any danger of shock and you can put her through the mill now, if need be."

As the Chief Organizing Officer entered, Vlasta looked up. She thought him quite good looking, though she disliked his thin lips and the close-set eyes which had a suggestion of cruelty. He noted that she was now looking very much prettier than before, when she had been under the influence of the gas.

"I am pleased to see you looking so well, Miss Novak," he said, and forced a smile.

"I feel fine," she replied, "and I think the doctor is being over-careful in keeping me here."

He ignored the remark. "I understand you're anxious to see your father," he said, sitting down on the chair beside the bed.

"I am, and I'm sure he's terribly worried about me, too."

"Well, all you need do is to write a note to him and I will arrange for him to be brought here immediately."

"I would rather phone him."

"That's not convenient," he said, dismissing her request. "You'll have to write a note."

"Can I have pen and paper?"

"Certainly." He gave the necessary orders to a messenger outside and the pen and paper was quickly brought to her.

"A short note should do," he suggested. "And you can tell your father that he can bring along his apparatus, if he wishes."

"How do you know about that?" Vlasta exclaimed, suddenly alarmed.

"My dear Miss Novak, you talked almost non-stop about your father's apparatus and your assisting him while you were unconscious," he lied. "So you see, I am only trying to be helpful—both to your father and you—by giving you the opportunity to utilize your stay here to continue working on 'Project I.P.' With a project as important as that, there is no time to lose, for the sake of the world and humanity. It's a wonderful idea."

For some inexplicable reason Vlasta began to feel uneasy. She asked: "Which hospital am I in, actually?"

"This is not a hospital," he told her. "You're in the Medical Room of an organization."

"I want to leave at once!" she demanded, as she suddenly sensed danger.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," he said suavely.

"Are you saying I am your prisoner?"

"Let's say, a guest—as long as you don't behave foolishly."

There was now an expression in his eyes she didn't like, yet she was not afraid, and was determined to withstand any pressure on her.

"I'd advise you to write the note, Miss Novak," he pressed. "It would make matters very much easier all round."

"I am not going to write anything. I am not going to help you get my father here!" She was adamant, despite his threatening tone.

"You have five minutes to change your mind. If you..."

"I am not going to change my mind in five minutes or five thousand hours," Vlasta interrupted.

He stabbed a button on the wall beside her and seconds later two guards and some THRUSH officers filed into the room. Vlasta was securely strapped to the bed and electronic equipment was attached to her limbs.

The brainwashing and conditioning of her mind lasted a considerable time. When it was done, she wrote the note to her father.

His daughter's disappearance had brought Professor Novak to the verge of a nervous breakdown. He had visibly aged, and felt physically ill. He couldn't sleep, didn't touch food or drink—only chain-smoked. He was almost continuously in touch with State Security Headquarters, but the people there could only repeatedly tell him that the nationwide search for his daughter had not been slackened for an instant. As the hours dragged on without the slightest clue being found, he lived in fear that he would never see Vlasta again.

The stillness of his villa was suddenly disturbed by the sound of the doorbell, but he was not interested in learning who his visitor was, being in no mood for seeing anyone. All he wanted was news that his daughter had been found alive, and that, he knew, could only come by telephone from State Security Headquarters.

The caller continued to ring the doorbell.

Grudgingly the scientist pulled himself from his arm chair in the living room and walked heavily to the entrance door. When he opened it, a stranger, a well-dressed man of about forty, raised his bat and said:

"Professor Novak?"

"Yes."

"May I come in, please?"

"What is it about?"

"It's a private matter which I can't very well convey on the doorstep," the stranger said. "I won't keep you long, Professor."

"Step inside then."

As soon as the door was shut, the stranger removed Vlasta's note from the breast pocket of his coat and said: "Your daughter asked me to deliver this to you."

"My daughter?" the Professor answered in a trembling voice. "Is she all right?"

"Yes. Why don't you read her letter?"

The Professor tore open the envelope, read the note, re-read it, and each time stumbled over the sentence, "I'm longing to see you, papa—and the apparatus—I think I have found the solution."

"How can I be certain this is my daughter's handwriting?" he said after a long pause.

"You surely know your daughter's handwriting," the stranger returned.

"I do; but it is also known that good forgeries can be made."

"I can assure you, sir, that it is your daughter's handwriting," the other assured him. "You'll see for yourself that she's written the letter to you when you meet her."

"Why didn't she phone me?"

"Because there's no telephone yet installed where she is. You know how difficult it is to get a phone these days—the majority of applicants wait years…"

"Where is she?"

"With friends. I have a car here to take you to her."

"Very well then," the Professor agreed, and took coat and hat from the clothes rack in the entrance hail. "I'm ready. Let's go."

"The apparatus, sir," the stranger reminded him. "You've forgotten it."

"How stupid of me to forget!" the scientist retorted. "If you care to come along with me, we'll fetch it from my laboratory."

When they reached the heavy steel door to the laboratory, Professor Novak placed himself close to it in order to prevent the stranger observing the combination of the lock. His hands were trembling and it took longer than usual to open the door. As they stepped into the laboratory, he wiped thick beads of sweat from his forehead and said in a weak voice:

"Excuse me if I sit down a while, I'm suddenly dizzy. Probably the excitement..."

"Don't worry, sir," said the stranger understandingly. "Take your time. Would you like a cigarette?"

"No, thank you. I'll be all right in a minute or two..."

The minute or two stretched to almost ten minutes. Suddenly the stillness of the laboratory was disturbed by hard boots running inside the villa and shouted commands. Uniformed State Security men, pistols drawn, rushed into the laboratory and handcuffed the stranger before he could protest. When he had been led away, the officer in charge said;

"What happened, Professor?"

The scientist relayed the details of the incident, handed the officer his daughter's letter and added:

"The handwriting is my daughter's, I am certain, but it's not her style of writing. She never calls me 'papa', and why would she ask me to come and see her with the apparatus? I thought it best to call you.

The easiest way of doing it was not to disconnect the alarm system before setting the combination of the lock and then to wait for you."

"You did well, Professor," the officer praised him, "and it might give us a lead as to your daughter. It's clear that she was kidnapped, to be used as a hostage to force you to hand over your apparatus."

"I only hope that my summoning you doesn't induce her kidnappers to kill her in revenge..."

"You needn't worry about that, Professor," the officer reassured him. "As long as the kidnappers keep her alive they can hope to get at you through her. Besides, they have no clue that you called us. They'll assume that our guards, who keep the villa under observation, became suspicious and raised the alarm."

"I hope you are right."

"I'm sure I am. And if there's another approach, which I expect there will be, play along with them, Professor. Why not let them have a replica of your apparatus without the vital components in it?"

"A good idea, officer. When they find the thing doesn't work I can always convince them that I am still far from the final working solution—which in fact I am."

But unknown to them, the Chief Organizing Officer at THRUSH European Center E knew exactly what had happened at Professor Novak's villa even before his control agent, who had shadowed his colleague, reported the event. The Monitoring Officer had bugged and taped every single sound and word that had been spoken.

"What are we going to do now?" the Head of the Technical Department enquired.

"The only solution is to use force," the Chief of the Special Tasks Department decided, after pondering the problem.

"And risk the apparatus being destroyed before we can lay our hands on it?" the Head of the Science Department objected.

"My plan is foolproof," the other assured him, "and I wish I'd thought of it earlier—we would have had the Professor and his precious apparatus here by now. The plan entails possibly killing some State Security people, but that doesn't worry me unduly and I don't think it worries any of you."

"Perhaps you'll put us in the picture," the Head of the Technical Department suggested.

"I'll send a detachment in uniforms and vehicles of the State Security, to the Professor's villa. The real State Security guards keeping the villa under round-the-clock surveillance must of course be silenced, but this is a small detail. When our 'State Security' officers arrive there, the officer in charge will tell the Professor that State Security Headquarters were worried about the earlier occurrence and decided to move him and his apparatus to a safer place.

That's all, gentlemen, and I don't doubt that the plan will work. Professor Novak and his apparatus should be here inside two hours."

His estimate was right, almost to the minute, for the plan worked. Professor Novak was not surprised at the decision of State Security Headquarters to move him and the apparatus from the villa; in fact, he was in favor of it. Yet once in the fake State Security car, he at once realized he had been tricked—too late to escape his kidnappers.

CHAPTER FIVE

KISSING CAN CAUSE UNCONSCIOUSNESS

NAPOLEON SOLO gazed out of the window as the giant jet prepared to land at Prague. He had studied the layout of the Czech capital during his flight from New York, yet still he did not expect the city to look as picturesque and romantic as it did in the glorious bright sunshine, with its silvery, winding river Moldau, its numerous bridges, multi-colored roofs and gables, countless churches, and the imposing castle Hradcany overlooking the whole panorama. He was not usually an admirer of ancient or modern cities, but the unexpected view of Prague evoked a feeling of contentedness in him.

"Will you please fasten your safety belt, sir," a pretty stewardess interrupted his thoughts.

"Certainly, Miss," he said with a bright smile, looking provocatively into the greenish eyes of the redhead. He hadn't seen her before during the flight—she was probably busy in the tourist class, he thought—and decided on the spur of the moment to try and date her. "How long are you staying in Prague?" he asked.

"We're returning in an hour's time."

"My luck," he mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"I meant, what a pity you aren't staying longer," he explained. "I'd hoped to have dinner with you to night."

"Another time perhaps," she said, and moved on towards the pilot's cabin.

The aircraft circled over the sunbathed city, reducing speed and height until it eventually flew only a short distance above some houses that stood in the immediate vicinity of the airport. Then the wheels of the giant jet touched down and the pilot headed the machine towards the white terminal building with the outsize letters, KBELY AIRPORT, on its walls.

There were not too many passengers bound for Prague, and passport and customs clearance was fairly speedy.

As Solo left the Customs Hall and strode into the reception area, he noticed a short, thick-set man who was somehow familiar to him and who hastily left the airport building as soon as he'd spotted him. For a moment he couldn't place the man, then he remembered that he had come across him some six months earlier in Cairo, where the man, a THRUSH agent, had escaped arrest.

"Well, it's not really my business to chase this villain," he thought as he went towards the taxi in front of the rank. "Take me to Dejvice, please," he asked the driver as he boarded the cab. "And I should be obliged if you would put your foot down—I'm in a hurry."

The driver grinned and raced along the semi-deserted road towards Prague.

As Napoleon leaned against the seat of the cab, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible, he gazed out at the factories and dwelling houses on each side of the road, his thoughts returning to the THRUSH agent who had managed to disappear so effectively. He could not know that the man had already privately radioed THRUSH European Center E of Solo's arrival in Prague.

Napoleon ordered the driver to stop a couple of streets away from Professor Novak's villa. He intended to arrive at the scientist's residence discreetly.

After paying the man, he walked along the deserted streets.

The Professor's villa on the opposite side of the tree-lined street came into view and Napoleon slowed to have a good look at it. He was surprised at the lack of State Security guards around the building and surrounding area and assumed they were probably hidden in neighboring properties to create the impression that the house was not under surveillance.

He crossed the quiet, completely deserted street, went straight to the entrance door, and pushed his thumb on the bell button. He heard the shrill sound echo inside the villa.

There was no response to the ringing.

He pressed again and kept on doing so for some time. There was still no answer. He decided to investigate whether the villa was empty or whether the Professor had, perhaps, been taken ill and was unable to answer the call. He moved around the building, peering into the windows of the various rooms and testing the locked doors.

He was looking through a window when he felt the muzzle of a gun in his back. His arms were seized from behind, and then he was handcuffed. All this had been done without a word being spoken by his captors, and it had all been very swift and efficient.

A young man in the uniform of Czech State Security seized his arm and led him round the building towards the exit, still without a word spoken.

"What's the matter? Is everybody dumb?" Napoleon burst out.

But there was no reaction to his questions. Outside the villa, in front of the entrance, stood a State Security van with a uniformed driver at the wheel. Napoleon was pushed in and driven off at considerable speed. Four fierce-looking men with pistols at the ready guarded him. Throughout the journey nothing was said.

The fifteen minutes or so ride in the stuffy van ended at Czech State Security Headquarters where U.N.C.L.E.'S Chief Enforcement Agent was led to an interrogation room.

"What's the reason for your queer hospitality?" Solo barked. He now faced a middle-aged man in the uniform of a Czech State Security Major. "Are you dumb too?"

"Why do you speak with an American accent?" the Major asked in broken English.

"Because I am American."

"American, eh?" the Major mocked. "That's a new one on me."

"If you care to slip your hand into the right-hand pocket inside my jacket you'll find my identification card...

The officer did as requested and extracted Solo's U.N.C.L.E. credentials. "Why didn't you identify yourself as an U.N.C.L.E. Enforcement Officer? You wouldn't have been arrested and brought here," he said at last. He introduced himself as Major Klima.

"I didn't get the chance," Napoleon explained. "Your men grabbed me and pretended to be dumb. I didn't have any other choice than to come along quietly."

"I am sorry," the Major apologized. "You see, they suspected you were one of the gang who snatched Professor Novak and his apparatus, and thought you'd returned to the scene of the crime for some reason, so they brought you here straight away without even searching you."

"Professor Novak was kidnapped?" Napoleon exclaimed. "Any clue to where he might have been taken?"

"Plenty of clues, but if you mean whether he's been found yet, the answer is 'No'," returned Major Klima. "We are treating the matter as a national emergency and every resource, informers and the public, have been mobilized and are engaged in the countrywide manhunt for the Professor and his daughter. At the moment, neither of them has been found. However, rapid developments are imminent."

"I am sure you are right." Napoleon asked for more details of the kidnapping.

"After Vlasta Novak's disappearance we strengthened our security measures at her father's villa," Major Klima went on. "We managed to locate an observant woman who'd witnessed Vlasta Novak being approached by a man who looked like an official driver, and who told her about her father having been involved in a road accident. This witness also described the car, which looked like an official one, and gave us its registration number. The number plate was, of course, a fake."

"Naturally," Napoleon said.

"Having this information, it was clear that Miss Novak had been kidnapped to enable some unknown elements to use her to get to her father and his hush-hush apparatus," Major Klima continued. He told Solo about the concentrated countrywide hunt for the girl; about the stranger's call at Professor Novak's villa, the letter, and the arrest of the stranger; and then added: "We'd hoped to get some clue from the arrested man as to Miss Novak's whereabouts and the gang who'd kidnapped her, but our expectations were shattered. During the short transport from Dejvice to Headquarters here, the man died. No one knows how, but he must have managed to swallow some fast-acting poison."

"Where's the body?" Napoleon asked.

"Why?" Major Klima asked, surprised. "If you think we haven't examined every millimetre of his body and clothing you can forget it. The most extensive forensic examinations yielded no useful result. The body is now in the mortuary. A post-mortem is to be carried out tomorrow morning by our leading pathologist to detect the poison, and the body will then be cremated."

"It never crossed my mind that the body wasn't examined thoroughly for clues," Napoleon assured him, and went on to tell the Czech about the incident at U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters. "I've just been thinking whether this might be an identical case and whether someone might attempt to recover the body for subsequent revival."

"No one made any move to claim the body," Major Klima said. "The public mortuary would have notified us at once. But to set your mind at rest I'll check with them straight away." He did this, and a short while later Napoleon heard him shout into the telephone receiver: "How is that possible? I thought you had everything under proper control!" He banged the receiver down onto its rest and said to Solo: "The body has disappeared! I'll instigate a full-scale enquiry and the mortuary staff will have to account for their negligence."

There was no point in staying at Czech State Security Headquarters any longer. Napoleon took his leave from the cooperative Major Klima, who welcomed his suggestion that they should keep in close contact, promising to afford U.N.C.L.E.'S Chief Enforcement Agent every assistance he required.

It was already twilight when Napoleon left the State Security building, and the street lights transformed the Old Town of the ancient city of Prague into a reminder of medieval times. As he walked along the narrow, winding streets and crossed the picturesque squares, he looked at the age-old buildings and frequently stopped to admire the unusual stuccos on some of the architectural relics of by-gone times. He loved the atmosphere that seemed to hang in the air and made frequent detours to explore more of the city. He stopped at every statue on the long and narrow Charles Bridge, admiring the beauty of the ancient creations, and then went to Kampa Island, looking fascinated at the river Moldau and the panorama of Hradcany castle—the ancient seat of Czech kings—with the St. Vitus Cathedral looking down on the city.

Passing eventually the blackish-grey Powder Tower with its square green copper roofing, and crossing into Poric Street, he found himself in twentieth-century Prague, with its noisy trams rattling along the rails in the middle of the road and cars and lorries rushing along, hooting frequently, the drivers swearing at each other now and again as drivers do the world over. He was struck by the contrast between the old and the new, but thought there was plenty of room for improvement in the Czech capital—by doing away with the outdated tramcars and by improving the traffic problem.

He reached the Axa Hotel without incident and was allocated the room that had been reserved for him. The bellboy led him to the elevator and took him to his room on the second floor at the end of the corridor.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do, sir?" the bellboy said, clearly waiting to be tipped.

"Can I get a meal here?" Napoleon enquired.

"Certainly, sir. The restaurant is downstairs. Would you like me to reserve a table for you with a view of the swimming pool?"