The Stainless Steel Rat for President

Ask the right question and you get the right answer. "Adolfo," I wheeled about and stabbed a finger in his direction. "You know what happens around here. Have you ever heard of the semaphore system that the aristocrats use?" "Who doesn't know? Every time you pass one of the castles there are the arms waving and flapping. Those people live in the dark ages. Why don't they put in telephones..." "What do you mean every time you pass a castle? Aren't thev on the other side of the barrier?" "No such way. There's one down the road not two Ks from here." "Then we are in business? Any trouble getting inside?" "No trouble, but you have to pass two policemen at the gate. Show identification and that kind of thing." "That's no good for me. But if I could get a message inside." I looked at Renata. "Are your papers all right?" She nodded. "They better be. We pay the police enough for them." "Then you can carry the message. Now describe the physical setup of the castle's entrance so I can work out a plan for ' getting me inside." I dug more money from my bag, I was very free with the marqu6z's4unds, and passed it over. "This should cover expenses. Now-speak!" I kept the plan simple, like all good plans should be, nevertheless it was past dawn before I had worked the details out. Another sleepless night; this was getting to be a habit. Adolfo was playing solitaire, Santos was asleep on the couch, and I assumed that Renata was doing the same in the bedroom. "Adolfo," I said. "What time do the shops open in this fine city?" He looked at his watch. "In about two hours." "Just the time we need to enjoy our breakfasts and go over the details of the exercise. I'll call room service while you sound reveille." Two pots of coffee replaced the night's sleep. I sipped at the last cup and finished the preparations for the coming operation. In the castle, while I had been transcribing the message for the marquez, I had managed to liberate some of his stationery. By reflex, really. I scarcely realized at the time that I had been doing it. But letterheads would be very useftil right now. I wrote the note on one of them, forged the marquez's signature with an exactitude that brought a murmur of praise from Adolfo, sealed the note into an envelope and passed it over to Renata. "You know what you are to do?" I asked. She nodded.

"No problems. I stop at the milliners and make some purchases. Take a cab. Say I am delivering for the store. The cops let me in. I see that the duke gets the letter. Then I leave and you take over from there." "Perfect. Stress the urgency of the arrangements to be sure that he gets the timing right. If not I will be very embarrassed. Let's go." Can you trust crooks, even well-bribed crooks? That was my depressing thought later that morning as zero hour approached. If all went correctly my new allies would be at their positions now, with the final stages of the operation about to begin. I patted my black beard, glued back into position as soon as they had left the hotel room, and looked at the target. The sidewalk cafe was well placed for this job, no further than two hundred meters from the high wall that ringed Castle Penoso. Four steps led up from the pavement to an iron-bound doorway. Two policemen stood at the foot of those steps. I had watched Renata approach and be stopped and questioned by them, then pass through with her bundle. She had emerged without it-which meant the message had been passed. I looked at my watch. Now the moment for the final stage had arrived. I picked up my bag, threw coins on the table, stood, and walked slowly down the street towards the entrance.

The policemen were at the foot of the steps, hands on their guns, looking at the passersby. A extremely well-built young woman slid sinuously by, which drew their attention, as well as low voiced murmurs of approval. Nothing else happened. Where were my troops? Were they late-or not coming? I bent to tie my shoe. I would be noticed if I stayed this close very much longer.

Then, above the normal traffic sounds, I heard the stressed whine of a car's engine, growing louder and louder. I walked slowly on.

I had almost reached the doorway when the screech of brakes sounded. Both policemen looked up as the automobile careened down the road, weaving from side to side-to crash into the curb on the other side of the street. An arm dropped limply from the driver's window.

As the policemen started across the street I bounded up the four steps and pushed hard against the door.

Tliiyac lr~GP~fl

Chapter 17

There's nothing like a whiff of panic to clear the head. As the adrenalin pumped through my veins, all traces of fatigue vanished on the instant. What was wrong? The door should have been open-they had my message. I pushed again with the same lack of result.