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Authors: Colin Forbes
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her before. But he could be wrong. Over the years God knows how many people he has met—or known slightly. What I'm saying is—if your investigation turns up a connection, could you inform me ?'
`Of course. . .
Blanc left soon afterwards and the prefect smiled grimly as he watched the car from the window moving off too fast towards the right bank. Strictly speaking, anything which came to light should be reported only to his chief, Roger Danchin, but everyone knew that Blanc was Florian's eyes and ears, the man who fixed a problem when anything awkward cropped up. Boisseau, who had come into the office as Blanc left, watched the car disappearing. 'It's quite impossible to suspect a man like that,' he remarked.
`If the Leopard exists,' Grelle replied, 'it's because he has reached a position where people would say, "it's quite impossible to suspect a man like that. . . ." '
One 9-mm Luger pistol, one monocular glass, three forged driving licences, and three different sets of forged French papers —one set for each member of the Soviet Commando. Walther Brunner, the second member of the team, sat alone inside the concrete cabin at the edge of the race-track wearing a pair of French glasses as he checked the cards. The equipment they would carry was meagre enough but the time was long since past when Soviet Commandos travelled to the west armed with exotic weapons like cyanide-bullet-firing pistols disguised as cigarette cases. The craft of secret assassination had progressed way beyond that.
Brunner, horn at Karlsbad, now known as Karlovy Vary, was forty years old; the oldest member of the Commando he had hoped to lead until Borisov had selected Carel Vanek instead. Shorter than Vanek, he was more heavily-built and his temperament was less volatile; round-headed, he would soon be bald and he felt it was his appearance which had persuaded Borisov to give the leadership to the younger man. At least he ranked as the second member of the three-man team, as Vanek's deputy, the man who would take over operations if something happened to Vanek while they were in the west. Rank, oddly enough, is an important factor in Communist circles.
Brunner was the Commando's planner, the man who worked out routes and schedules—and escape routes—before the mission was undertaken, the man who arranged for the provision of false papers, who later, when they arrived at their destination, suggested the type of 'accident' to be applied. 'You must make three different plans,' Brunner was fond of saying, `then when you arrive at the killing ground you choose the one best suited. . . .' Beer was his favourite drink and, unlike Vanek, he regarded women as dangerous distractions. His most distinctive feature was his large hands, 'strangler's hands', as Vanek rudely called them. There was some justification in the description; if Col Lasalle had to die in the bath Brunner was likely to attend to it.
This was the nub of the training at the abandoned racetrack outside the medieval town of Tabor; here the three Czechs who made up the Commando perfected the skill of arranging 'accidental' deaths. Death by running someone down with a car was trainer Borisov's favourite method. The research section, housed in a separate cabin and which worked closely with the Commando, had studied the statistics: more people in western Europe died on the roads than from any other cause. Accidents in the home came next. Hence Brunner's special attention to drowning in the bath, which had been practised in a third concrete cabin with an iron bath-tub and live 'models'.
A fact largely unknown to the outside world is that an assassination Commando never leaves Russian-controlled territory without the express sanction of three members (who make up a quorum) of the Politburo in Moscow. Even in 1952 —when the power of the Committee for State Security was at its height—the Commando sent to West Berlin to kidnap (or kill, if necessary) Dr Lime, had to be approved by Stalin
`Of course. . .
Blanc left soon afterwards and the prefect smiled grimly as he watched the car from the window moving off too fast towards the right bank. Strictly speaking, anything which came to light should be reported only to his chief, Roger Danchin, but everyone knew that Blanc was Florian's eyes and ears, the man who fixed a problem when anything awkward cropped up. Boisseau, who had come into the office as Blanc left, watched the car disappearing. 'It's quite impossible to suspect a man like that,' he remarked.
`If the Leopard exists,' Grelle replied, 'it's because he has reached a position where people would say, "it's quite impossible to suspect a man like that. . . ." '
One 9-mm Luger pistol, one monocular glass, three forged driving licences, and three different sets of forged French papers —one set for each member of the Soviet Commando. Walther Brunner, the second member of the team, sat alone inside the concrete cabin at the edge of the race-track wearing a pair of French glasses as he checked the cards. The equipment they would carry was meagre enough but the time was long since past when Soviet Commandos travelled to the west armed with exotic weapons like cyanide-bullet-firing pistols disguised as cigarette cases. The craft of secret assassination had progressed way beyond that.
Brunner, horn at Karlsbad, now known as Karlovy Vary, was forty years old; the oldest member of the Commando he had hoped to lead until Borisov had selected Carel Vanek instead. Shorter than Vanek, he was more heavily-built and his temperament was less volatile; round-headed, he would soon be bald and he felt it was his appearance which had persuaded Borisov to give the leadership to the younger man. At least he ranked as the second member of the three-man team, as Vanek's deputy, the man who would take over operations if something happened to Vanek while they were in the west. Rank, oddly enough, is an important factor in Communist circles.
Brunner was the Commando's planner, the man who worked out routes and schedules—and escape routes—before the mission was undertaken, the man who arranged for the provision of false papers, who later, when they arrived at their destination, suggested the type of 'accident' to be applied. 'You must make three different plans,' Brunner was fond of saying, `then when you arrive at the killing ground you choose the one best suited. . . .' Beer was his favourite drink and, unlike Vanek, he regarded women as dangerous distractions. His most distinctive feature was his large hands, 'strangler's hands', as Vanek rudely called them. There was some justification in the description; if Col Lasalle had to die in the bath Brunner was likely to attend to it.
This was the nub of the training at the abandoned racetrack outside the medieval town of Tabor; here the three Czechs who made up the Commando perfected the skill of arranging 'accidental' deaths. Death by running someone down with a car was trainer Borisov's favourite method. The research section, housed in a separate cabin and which worked closely with the Commando, had studied the statistics: more people in western Europe died on the roads than from any other cause. Accidents in the home came next. Hence Brunner's special attention to drowning in the bath, which had been practised in a third concrete cabin with an iron bath-tub and live 'models'.
A fact largely unknown to the outside world is that an assassination Commando never leaves Russian-controlled territory without the express sanction of three members (who make up a quorum) of the Politburo in Moscow. Even in 1952 —when the power of the Committee for State Security was at its height—the Commando sent to West Berlin to kidnap (or kill, if necessary) Dr Lime, had to be approved by Stalin
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