The Trojan boy

TEN

Avedissian had no idea at all where they were going, only that they were going there fast. He checked the dials on the facia and found the fuel gauge; it registered half full. That was the only one that mattered right now. His foot went down hard on the brake as they came to a large, green signboard and Kathleen had to slam her free hand against the dashboard to stop herself being flung forward. Her other hand held the boy.

'Fasten your belt,’ said Avedissian.

'When I get a chance.'

Avedissian read the sign then wrenched the wheel over to the left and screeched off again down the slip road and out on to the inter-state highway.

'The speed limit is fifty-five,’ said Kathleen as she saw the needle climb to eighty.

Avedissian, whose nerves were at fever pitch, wanted to snap angrily at Kathleen but saw that she was right. There was no point in attracting the attention of the Highway Patrol. He eased back on the pedal until their speed dropped to sixty and the tightness in his throat wore off. 'Can you see anyone behind us?' he asked.

Kathleen turned and looked. 'No, no one,’ she replied.

They came to an interchange and slowed. 'If you were Innes what way would you guess at?' demanded Avedissian.

'East,’ said Kathleen.

'I'd say west… so we'll choose neither.' Avedissian circled through the interchange and nosed the car out on to the north-bound carriageway.

'What's to the north?' asked Kathleen.

'Very little. We need breathing space.'

An hour had passed when Avedissian turned on the radio to break a silence that he was beginning to find oppressive. 'How is the boy?' he asked.

'Sleeping,’ replied Kathleen.

The simple exchange of words served to lessen the tension in the car. Avedissian moved in his seat and altered the position that he had maintained rigidly for the past hour without realising it. Kathleen kneaded her fingers into the back of his neck and whispered, 'Is that better?'

'Much.'

'What do you think?' asked Kathleen, glancing behind.

Avedissian was reluctant to tempt fate but he replied, 'I think we're safe for the time being. I reckon we gave Innes the slip.'

Kathleen leaned forward and changed the radio station to something more soothing than the avant-garde jazz that was grating on her nerves.

'I've been thinking,' said Avedissian. 'If we can still get the money transferred, we can deal with Kell for your brother.'

'Do you mean it?' asked Kathleen.

'Assuming we get out of this alive, I don't see why not. But he's not getting it all. Some of it is for the boy.'

'Did I tell you that I love you?' said Kathleen.

'No,’ replied Avedissian with a smile. 'You never did.'

'Well I do.'

'That could be a very mutual arrangement,’ said Avedissian.

Another hour on the highway and Avedissian said, 'We need petrol.' He pulled off the freeway at the next service area and filled the tank. He was paying the cashier when he saw the reflection of a police car in the glass screen in front of him. He watched it crawl into the station like a cat stalking birds.

‘There you go,’ said the cashier handing him his change, unable to figure out what Avedissian was so intent on.

Avedissian took the money without diverting his eyes. He saw the patrol car creep past and park on the other side of the station outside a building marked 'Hank's Diner' in red neon. He pretended to count his change, but watched the two officers out of the corner of his eye as they got out of the car and stretched their limbs. They adjusted their caps and gun belts before walking towards the diner and opening the door. A blast of juke box sound escaped into the night before the door closed again behind them.

'Good-night,’ said Avedissian to the cashier.

'Safe journey,’ said the man with a puzzled look.

'I thought we were done for,’ said Kathleen as Avedissian got back into the car.

‘They couldn't have looked at the licence plate,’ said Avedissian. 'I suppose cars get stolen all the time in Kansas City.'

‘Thank God,’ said Kathleen. They drove on.

Despite the sentiment Avedissian could not help but feel that they were pushing their luck to unreasonable limits. On impulse he decided to leave the freeway where they would be less likely to meet highway patrol cars. What they needed, he decided, was a place to lie low for a couple of days. Time enough for Innes and NORAID to lose the scent. Time enough for him to try for the transfer of the money.

'Do you know where we are?' asked Kathleen.

'Somewhere in Iowa.'

The night was ending. The comforting glow from the instrument panel, which had made it the centre of their world for the past few hours, was getting unfair competition from a huge sky.

'I've never seen anywhere so flat,’ said Kathleen as she looked out at cornfields stretching to the horizon in all directions. Half an hour later the sun was up, bleaching the world yellow under a perfect hemisphere of blue.

Avedissian parked the car discreetly round the side of a diner near the outskirts of the city of Des Moines and Kathleen woke up the boy. 'Breakfast time, my prince,' she whispered in his ear. The boy awoke with a look of alarm on his face but it quickly disappeared at the sight of Kathleen although he reserved a more baleful look for Avedissian.

Kathleen took the boy to the toilet while Avedissian ordered food for them from a waitress who sucked the tip of her pencil before writing each item down on her pad. She read back the order and Avedissian nodded.

'We have washed our face and are feeling a lot better this morning,' said Kathleen, returning with the boy, who now seemed wide-awake and hungry. Avedissian smiled at both of them. 'Eat up,' he said. 'We'll all feel better.' He was right, they all did feel a great deal better with a large breakfast inside them.

'Are we going to stay in the city?' asked Kathleen.

'No, we'll skirt round it, I think. But I would like to go to the bank in the city. They must have a branch here and the sooner we do it the better. I want to go alone and I don't want to take the car into town in case we get spotted by some eager-beaver patrolman. That means we have to find somewhere for you and the boy to stay till I get back.'

'We could ask the waitress,' suggested Kathleen.

The waitress sucked her pencil while she thought and then said, 'Old Mrs Lehman, she runs a rooming house about two miles north of here. She can probably fix you up.'

'Sounds ideal,' said Kathleen, listening intently while the woman gave more detailed instructions on how to find the Lehman place.

Avedissian paid and gave the waitress a large tip for her help. 'You're English aren't you?' she said as they went out the door. Avedissian wished that she hadn't.

They found the Lehman house without much trouble and Avedissian was pleased to find that it was well back from the road. The house itself was a wooden building, three storeys high and painted white, although it had been some time since the last painting and large areas were bare where the surface had flaked off. An old woman they took to be Mrs Lehman came out to meet them and Avedissian explained that they wanted a room for a couple of days to break their journey. They hated staying in the city.

'I feel the same myself,' said Mrs Lehman in a strong German accent. 'All that noise and fuss.'

They were shown to a bright, airy room on the first floor and were pleased with it. Avedissian paid in advance and brought in what little they had from the car. It consisted solely of what Kathleen had been able to grab with one hand when they left the motel in such a hurry, but they managed to disguise the fact from Mrs Lehman. Kathleen chatted to her downstairs while Avedissian pretended to carry up their 'luggage'.

‘The boy doesn't say much,' said Mrs Lehman, noting that he seemed immune to all her attempts to make a fuss of him.

'He's very shy,' lied Kathleen. There was probably no need to be evasive but it had become a state of mind.

'We should be safe here,' said Avedissian when they were alone. Kathleen agreed as they looked out of the window to the waving fields of corn. It seemed unlikely that either NORAID or Innes could find them here. 'When will you go into the city?' she asked.

'I'll check on the bus situation with the old woman then go as soon as I can. If we can get it all done today we can lie low here for a couple of days then make for Chicago and a flight home.'

'Wherever that is,' said Kathleen ruefully.

Avedissian put his hands on her shoulders and said softly, 'We'll find somewhere and we'll be together. All right?'

Kathleen nodded and said, 'Go ask Mrs Lehman.'

'You have just missed one,’ said the old woman when Avedissian asked about buses into the city. 'Next one is not for two hours. It stops at the end of the road.'

Avedissian thanked her and returned upstairs.

'Do you know what I'd like to do?' said Kathleen when Avedissian told her of the delay. 'Go for a walk. I feel as if I've been in prison for the last week.'

'We'll all go,’ said Avedissian.

They walked along the dirt road leading from the house to a local farm, with the sun on their backs and a soft breeze drifting through the corn. The child, who had continued to cling to Kathleen at all times up till now, relaxed his grip on her hand for the first time and skipped a few paces ahead of them. Kathleen looked at Avedissian and smiled. 'I think he's getting over it,’ she said.

‘I’ll get him some toys when I'm in the city this afternoon,’ said Avedissian.

'What's going to happen to him in the long run?' asked Kathleen.

'It all depends on where he came from,’ replied Avedissian.

'Where could he have come from?'

'My guess must be some kind of home or orphanage. I can't see any parents being duped into letting their child be used for something like this, can you?'

'I can't see any home or orphanage doing it either,’ replied Kathleen.

'Sometimes the situation with children in care is a bureaucratic mess,’ said Avedissian. The kids get bundled around from one branch of the social services to the next. If, as I suspect, the boy has no living relatives, he would be a real problem for them because of his handicap. Being a deaf-mute would not make him a good bet for adoption.'

'So you think that Bryant exploited some mix-up in the system?' asked Kathleen.

'Or created it,’ said Avedissian bitterly.

'If it does turn out that he has no relations…’ said Kathleen uncertainly.

Avedissian could see what was coming. 'Y-e-s?' he said with a smile.

'Do you think he could possibly…?'

'Why not?' said Avedissian. 'We're all in the same boat. Maybe we should stick together.’

Kathleen took Avedissian's arm and hugged it. Avedissian checked his watch and said, 'We'll have to start back.’

The bus was ten minutes late but Avedissian had been able to watch it coming for the last five minutes because of the dust cloud it had created in the distance. He climbed aboard and paid the driver, who asked him if he was staying at the Lehman place. Avedissian said that he was and the driver proceeded to tell him what a fine woman Rosa Lehman was and how she had two fine boys who had gone East to pursue careers in the professions. Lawyers, he thought, or maybe one of them was a doctor. He always did get mixed up between the Lehman boys and the Miller boys down in Twin Forks.

'Rosa's boys are both lawyers,’ prompted one of the other three passengers on the bus. 'It's Johnny Miller who became the doctor.'

'Thank you, Martha,’ said the driver without turning his head. 'You staying long?' he asked Avedissian.

'A couple of days.’

'You're English, aren't you?'

'Yes.’

'Don't get too many Englishmen in these parts,’ said the driver. It had been a cue for Avedissian to say what he was doing there but Avedissian just looked out of the window and, to his relief, the driver did not pursue the matter.

The journey took forty minutes and Avedissian stepped out in the centre of Des Moines in the early afternoon. He asked the driver about a return bus and was given details of when and where he could pick one up. 'Have a nice day,’ said the driver.

'You too,’ said Avedissian.

He found the main branch of the bank he was looking for without much difficulty, for all the banks seemed to be clustered together in the heart of the city, and walked in through the impressively tall doors. It was cool inside the main banking hall, thanks to air-conditioning. It was just a question of approaching the correct window for his purpose. There seemed to be more than twenty and all were manned.

Seeing that he appeared indecisive, an armed guard approached Avedissian and asked if he could be of assistance. The words were polite but the face was stone.

'I want to open an account,’ said Avedissian.

'Number fourteen, at the end,’ said the guard, pointing with his finger.

Thank you.'

'Welcome.'

As he walked across the floor to window fourteen Avedissian wondered if he were walking on real marble or whether it was just a very good imitation. The support columns in the hall appeared to be made of the same, endowing the place with an aura of Greek grandeur. A nation in search of a heritage, he thought, as he smiled at the lady in the window.

'How may I help you?'

‘I’d like to open an account.'

'Checking?'

'No, deposit.'

The woman took a form from the collection to her left and started writing. 'How much would you like to deposit, sir?'

'What's the minimum?'

'A dollar.’

'A dollar,’ said Avedissian.

The woman looked up briefly at him before exercising a professional control over her features and carrying on with the paperwork.

Avedissian said, 'Am I right in thinking that all details relating to this account will be kept confidential?'

'Yes sir… your dollar is safe with us.’

Avedissian thought the teller was being impudent until he saw that she was pointing to the bank's logo. 'Do you have a branch in London?' he asked.

'London, England?'

'Yes.’

'I'll have to check.’

The woman went to confer with a colleague sitting at a computer terminal. Avedissian saw the colleague pick up a blue-covered book and flick through the pages before nodding and pointing to an entry.

'Yes sir, we do,’ said the teller.

'Is it possible to have an account transferred between here and England?'

‘I’ll have to ask again.’ She asked. 'Yes, sir, it's possible. When the time comes you just fill in the appropriate form and we will transfer the account.’

'I'd like to fill it in now,’ said Avedissian.

'Now, sir? You want to transfer an account of one dollar?'

'I want to fill in the form just now. I don't want the account transferred till Friday. I'm expecting a large sum of money.’

The teller brought the appropriate form and Avedissian completed it. He handed it back saying, ‘Is there anything else I have to do?'

'No, sir, that's everything.’ The teller handed Avedissian confirmation of his one dollar deposit and the all-important account number that he had come to get. 'Have a nice day.’

Avedissian stepped out into the sunshine and felt that things were going his way. He paused at a news-stand and bought a paper before going to a nearby cafe and ordering coffee and doughnuts.

The story on page three destroyed his sense of well-being. His spine tingled as he looked at the photograph of the motel chalet where a man had been murdered. Police were looking for an English couple who had made their getaway in a stolen car. The description and licence number of the car were given. The worst news was that a gas station cashier had reported seeing an Englishman driving a car similar to the description a few hours after the murder. He had been heading north on the freeway.

Avedissian cursed his luck. NORAID, Innes, the police, they all knew now that he had headed north on leaving Kansas City. Avedissian read the story again and found some reassurance in the fact that there was no mention of the child. The slob at the motel had taken so little interest in them when they arrived that he had completely overlooked the fact that Kathleen had not been alone in the background. That made all the difference between a couple and a family. There was no description of either him or Kathleen in the story for the same reason, thought Avedissian.

The fact that the story was on page three also helped. Not everyone would see it. In fact a murder at a seedy motel in Kansas City might not have made the papers at all if it had not been for the fact of the car bomb explosion at the Plaza Hotel and the apparent murder of several other people. Police believed that the two events might be linked. The car bomb story itself had made page one. An Englishman had died and two Americans, and an unidentified man had been found murdered in one of the rooms. No theories as to reason or motive were offered.

Avedissian left the cafe and considered his position. He decided that they would have to leave the Lehman place sooner than they had intended for it was just conceivable that the waitress at the breakfast diner might be asked about an English couple and direct the enquirer to the house. They would have to find somewhere else. He checked his watch and saw that there would be a bus in fifteen minutes, and he still had things to do.

Avedissian sought out a large chain-store where he would be anonymous and bought a small Japanese cassette recorder then, remembering what he had said to Kathleen, he went to the toy department and bought a few things for the child before picking up some essential toilet articles and hurrying to catch the bus. This time he paid the driver and went straight to a seat at the back of the vehicle to discourage any questions or conversation.

Kathleen and the boy were playing together in the garden of the Lehman house when Avedissian got back. They both came to meet him when he appeared at the gate. For the first time Avedissian noticed that all trace of suspicion had disappeared from the boy's eyes when he looked at him. He was pleased.

'Did everything go all right?' asked Kathleen.

'I opened an account but we have another problem. They know we came north.'

'Who does?'

'Everyone.' Avedissian told her about the story in the paper. 'We'll have to move.'

Kathleen looked dejected. She said, 'Couldn't we stay here tonight? I don't think I could face another night like last night.'

Avedissian considered then agreed. It was against his better judgement but he wanted to stay too. He gave the boy the toys he had bought for him and saw him smile for the first time. It was a good moment.

As the boy played with a toy bulldozer Kathleen looked at him fondly and said to Avedissian, 'What are we going to call him?'

'He must already have a name,’ replied Avedissian.

'But we don't know it. We'll have to call him something.'

'You choose,' said Avedissian.

'I already have,’ said Kathleen. 'Harry.’

Avedissian smiled and said quietly, 'Why not… Our Harry.’

Avedissian left Kathleen and Harry in the garden while he went upstairs to their room. He got out the tapes that he had taken from Innes's room and plugged in the recorder to play them back. He searched through the first one, listening to snatches of conversation to establish where he was in the train of events. It brought back chilling memories.

He ascertained that the tape he was scanning had been for the room bug. The other cassette must hold the telephone monitor. He pressed the fast-forward button again then stopped it. He was listening to the torture sequence. 'The password!' demanded Innes's voice… 'All right… all right… it's ARCHIMEDES… but…’

Avedissian cued the tape backwards and lined it up to deliver the password alone. He removed the cassette and put in the other one to listen to the last telephone call made from the room. He wrote down the account number that Innes had asked for then changed over the tapes again.

There was no telephone in the room. He would have to ask Mrs Lehman if he could use hers.

'Of course,’ said Rosa Lehman. 'Is it a local call?'

Avedissian assured her that it was and she said that she would go speak to Kathleen outside until he had finished. 'Bless you,’ said Avedissian. He looked at the framed photographs that the old woman kept on her dresser while he waited for the bank to answer. One man looked as if he might have been Rosa's husband. There were two of young men in college gowns. The lawyers, thought Avedissian. A woman's voice answered.

‘This is Mr Avedissian, account number…’Avedissian read from the paper in his hand, '5523408.1 want to have the contents of account number 4494552 transferred into mine.’

'One moment, please.’

Avedissian's palms grew damp as he began to imagine the worst. A man's voice came on the line. 'How can I help you?' it said. Avedissian repeated his request and the man replied, This is an unusual request. I take it some arrangement has been made with the bank in this matter?'

'Yes,’ said Avedissian with his heart in his mouth.,

'Might I ask what arrangement?'

'A password transfer,’ said Avedissian.

'I see… one moment, please.’

Avedissian now began to have visions of the bank stalling in order to trace the call. He considered putting down the receiver and putting an end to the tension that was becoming unbearable.

'We don't seem to have a record of any such arrangement,’ said the voice.

'It was made with your branch in Kansas City,’ said Avedissian, trying a last resort.

'Kansas City?' said the voice. 'You didn't say that. I assumed that this was a local arrangement.’

'No,’ said Avedissian, walking a tightrope of nerves.

'One moment, please.’

Avedissian found the delay excruciating. The spectre of police cars already whining their way towards the Lehman place haunted him.

'Hello, caller?'

'I'm still here.’

'We have confirmed the arrangement with Kansas City and have a copy of the voice print. Are you ready?'

'Yes,’ croaked Avedissian, for his mouth had gone dry. He fingered the recorder button in readiness.

'At the tone, give the password…’ bleep.

Click… 'ARCHIMEDES.’

'Transfer is complete, caller. The money has been credited to your account.'

Avedissian put down the phone and felt weak at the knees. It had worked! It had actually worked! There was now twenty-five million dollars in the account he had just opened. He went outside but did not have to tell Kathleen for she read it in his face. She smiled.

They left the Lehman place after breakfast next morning after telling Rosa Lehman that they had had to change their plans and were heading south to St Louis, Missouri. She wished them well and waved to them from the gate as they drove off. They filled the car's tank at a local gas station and bought a route map at the same time, for it was Avedissian's intention to head north-west on country roads, the more remote the better. They had agreed that, whenever they had to stop for petrol or supplies, the child should be kept very much in evidence, thus promoting their image as a family on the move rather than an English couple who might provoke memories of the newspaper article.

The day grew hot and Harry began to get restless as they drove across seemingly endless deserts of corn. Occasionally they would see a farm vehicle in the distance or, more usually, a dust cloud thrown up by something moving along a far-off dirt road but, for the main, they were alone on the road.

'I think he's thirsty,' said Kathleen.

'Me too,’ said Avedissian. 'We'll stop when we find some place.'

The vision of ice-cold Coke was snatched from them by the sound of tortured metal being turned against its will. Avedissian stopped the car and got out, fearing the worst. He was not disappointed. When he looked underneath the differential casing looked red-hot. Blue smoke was curling out from what Avedissian could see was a crack in the metal.

‘The car is finished,' he said. 'We've lost all the oil from the rear axle. It's seized up.'

Kathleen and Harry got out to survey the useless heap of metal and stood in silence before it in the burning heat.

'Do you know where we are?' asked Kathleen quietly.

'Not really.'

'Maybe we can thumb a lift?'

'Maybe,' replied Avedissian but he was thinking of how little traffic they had come across on this route. That had been the whole idea. 'We can’t just leave the car at the side of the road,' he said. The police will find it and identify it as the car from the motel. Innes and NORAID will be waiting for news of the car too. We could have them all down our necks.'

'What do you suggest?' asked Kathleen, looking at the cornfields. There's no place to hide it.'

'We'll get it off the road anyway. Anything that gives us a bit more time.'

Avedissian set the steering wheel and let off the brake. He put his back against the front grille and dug in his heels to get purchase before heaving. Sweat glistened on his face as the car edged slowly back. Kathleen and Harry helped by adding their weight to the wing until, with painful slowness, the rear wheels cleared the apron of the road and eased over the edge on to a slight downhill run.

'Heave!' groaned Avedissian, putting in a final effort to impart as much momentum to the car as possible. It rolled back about twenty feet into the corn and stopped for ever as far as they were concerned. 'Better than nothing,' said Avedissian, doing his best to disguise the path of the car's entry into the corn.

Half an hour passed without any vehicle coming along the road. The sun was now unbearably hot and thirst was becoming a fixation, then Avedissian had an idea. He got up from where they had been sitting at the edge of the road and said, 'Maybe we can drink the contents of the windscreen washer in the car.'

Kathleen watched as Avedissian waded through the corn to reach the car and released the hood to look for the screen wash bottle. He removed the cap and stuck in his fingers before putting them up to his mouth. 'Water!' he exclaimed. 'Plain water!'

The bottle was clamped to the wing valance with a metal band. Avedissian found an adjustable spanner in the back and released it. He brought the bottle over to Harry and Kathleen and they took turns at drinking. 'You're a genius,’ gasped Kathleen after taking her turn.

'If I was I'd know how to get us out of this mess,’ said Avedissian.

'Stop blaming yourself,’ pleaded Kathleen. 'Somebody will be along soon. You'll see.

Avedissian smiled and Kathleen got up to look along the road. She put her hand to her eyes and stood on tip-toe saying, 'That just might be a dust cloud in the distance.’ She was craning her neck as she spoke. She took a few steps forward without looking where she was putting her feet and tripped over a stone to go tumbling down the bank and into a shallow ditch. Avedissian sprang to his feet in alarm but Kathleen laughed and assured him that she was all right. She was sitting up in the ditch looking more embarrassed than injured.

'Out you come,’ smiled Avedissian but the smile froze on his face as he saw something move in the dirt beside her. 'Look out!' he yelled but the warning came too late. The snake had sunk its fangs deep into Kathleen's leg and her scream rent the air. She rolled over in panic and Avedissian could see that the snake had not left her. It was preparing to bite again as he threw himself down the bank and struck out with the adjustable spanner that was still in his hand. The blow did not kill the snake outright but he managed to get a grip on it, holding it firmly behind the head so that it could not strike at him. He held it against a rock to bring down the spanner on its head and destroy it with all the fear and anger he felt behind the blow.

Kathleen was in a state of shock and trembling uncontrollably when Avedissian examined the wound. He did his best to clean it up with water from the screen bottle and encourage bleeding from the site of entry but knew that a great deal of the venom had got into her body. Harry was sitting on the edge of the ditch with terror in his eyes. Something terrible had happened to the lady who was kind to him. Kathleen caught sight of Harry and managed to control her fear and pain. 'It's all right,’ she said, looking directly at him. 'Come!' She held out her hand and Harry came towards her uncertainly and took it. 'Just you sit there,’ she said.

Kathleen turned to Avedissian and asked, 'Am I going to die?'

'I think it was some kind of viper,’ said Avedissian. 'I don't think the bite will be fatal but you will have a lot of pain. We really have to get you to a doctor with anti-serum.’

‘That sounded like the truth,’ said Kathleen.

'It was,’ said Avedissian. He got up and climbed up to the road to look along it in both directions. 'Please, God,’ he murmured. 'Just one lousy car.’