Touch the Devil Read Online Free PDF

Union Corse. . . ." He shrugged. "Thieving's one thing, politics is another. They'd inform without a second's hesitation." He clapped Corder on the shoulder. "But we'd better get out of this. Just follow my tail, like you did before. Nobody is likely to stop us when they see me escorting you."
    He pushed the BMW off its stand and rode away. Corder followed. The whole thing was like a bad dream and he could still see, vivid as any image on the movie screen, the body of the girl bouncing back across the pram in a hail of machine-gun fire. And Barry had expected it. Expected it, and yet he had still let those poor sods go through with it.
    He followed the BMW closely, through narrow country lanes, twisting and turning. They met no one, and then, a good ten miles on the other side of St. Etienne, came to a small garage and cafe at the side of the road. Barry turned in beside the cafe and braked to a halt. As Corder joined him, he was taking a canvas grip from one of the side panniers.
    "I know this place," he said. "There's a washroom at the back. I'm going to change. We'll leave the BMW here and carry on in the Peugeot."
    He went around to the rear before Corder could reply, and the young woman in the booth beside the gas pumps emerged and approached him. She was perhaps twenty-five, with a flat, peasant face, and wore a man's tweed jacket that was too large for her.
    "Gas, Monsieur?"
    "Is there a telephone?" Corder asked.
    "In the cafe, Monsieur, but it's not open for business. I'm the only one here today."
    "I must use it. It's very urgent." He pushed a hundred-franc note at her. "Just give me a handful of coins. You keep the rest."
    She shrugged, went into her office, and opened the register. She came back with the coins. "I'll show you," she said.
    The cafe wasn't much. A few tables and chairs, a counter with bottles of beer and mineral water and rows of glasses ranged behind, and a door that obviously led to the kitchen. The telephone was on the wall, a directory hanging beside it.
    The girl said, "Look, seeing I'm here I'll make some coffee. Okay?"
    "Fine," Corder told her.
    She disappeared into the kitchen and he quickly checked in the directory to find the district number to link him with the international line. His fingers were shaking as he dialed the area code for London, followed by the D15 number.
    He didn't even have time to pray. The receiver was lifted at the other end, and a woman's voice this time, the day operator, said, "Say who you are."
    "Lysander," Corder said urgently. "Clear line, please. I must speak to Brigadier Ferguson at once. Total Priority."
    And Ferguson's voice cut in instantly, almost as if he'd been listening in. "Jack, what is it?"
    "Total cock-up, sir. Barry smelt a rat, so he and I stayed out of things. The rest of the team were knocked out by CRS police." "You've got clean away, presumably."
    "Yes."
    "And does he suspect you?"
    "No--he thinks it's down to one of those Marseilles hoods speaking out of turn."
    In the kitchen, Frank Barry, listening on the extension, smiled, faceless in dark goggles. The girl lay on the floor at his feet, blood oozing from an ugly cut in her temple where he had clubbed her with his pistol. He took a Carswell silencer from his pocket and screwed it on to the barrel of his pistol as he walked into the cafe.
    Corder was still talking in a low, urgent voice. "No, I don't know how much more I can take, that's the trouble."
    Barry said softly, "Jack!"
    Corder swung around, and Barry shot him twice through the heart, slamming him back. He bounced off the wall and fell to the floor on his face.
    The receiver dangled on the end of its cord. Barry picked it up and said, "That you, Ferguson, old son? Frank Barry here. If you want Corder back, you'd better send a box for him to Cafe Rosco, St. Julien."
    "You bastard," Charles Ferguson said.
    "It's been said before."
    Barry replaced the receiver and went out, whistling softly as he unscrewed the silencer. He slipped the