The Corfu Affair - Phillifent John T. (серии книг читать бесплатно .txt) 📗

Katherine shrieked and hurled herself at him, clutching tightly. He grabbed hold, stepped up on the wall of the balcony and looked down as he gathered in the slack. Down there, immediately below them, a whole row of windows blasted open, exploding under the furious heat, and a raging inferno of searing flames spouted out then licked upwards with hot hungry breath.

Katherine shrieked again and clung frantically to him. He gave one more downward glance then braced his legs and shoved off strongly, releasing the catch on the little overhead trolley. They sagged and swooped away into the darkness, safely away from the scorching heat. Which was a happy thought, had it not been for the disturbing knowledge at the back of his mind that whereas nylon is dependable and tough in almost any circumstances, heat doesn't agree with it at all and it melts rather easily.

He applied a gentle braking action to the purring trolley and felt it his duty to keep her morale up.

"You'll be a bit more careful next time you're asked to accept some commission from a strange man, won't you?"

"Never again!" she vowed. "From now on I am just a cook. Nothing else. Just for once in my life I fell for that line about my patriotic duty. Just once, I got nosey, curious, minding somebody else's business. Just once, and now look it! Never again!"

"Don't say it like that," he chuckled. "If it hadn't been for you and your curiosity, and your quick inspiration, I hate to think where I would be right now." At that moment, from behind them, came a rolling roar and a great fountain-billow of flame as the whole of the top of the palace fell inwards into ruin. Their line sagged abruptly. They plunged, then jerked as it caught on something and held. He looked down. They were only feet above the dark ground. He released the lowering line urgently and they went down, to strike and thump down into the uncertain footing of a flower-bed, and go sprawling. First up, he extended her a hand, hoisted her to her feet and put his arm around her as they stared fascinatedly at the blazing ruin. Impulsively, his arm tightened around her shoulders.

"But for you," he said, "I would be in there, frying! If the C.I.A. doesn't give you a medal for that, I will!"

She giggled unsteadily, and clung to him. Then, in breathless panic, she gasped, "My shawl! Where's my shawl?"

"Draping that rose-bush," he said, and went to get it, and handed it to her. "It doesn't do you justice," he said. "I hope you don't mind, but I shall always remember you just as you are now, one of the bravest girls I've ever known."

For a moment, Katherine stood quite still, and it was odd, but she didn't mind in the least. Then she took the shawl and wrapped it around herself and smiled uncertainly.

"I don't feel a bit brave. It's just getting to me—I've nothing! Nothing at all! All my things are in the blaze!"

"That will be the least of your worries," he assured her. "I have a rich Uncle who will be only too glad to see you right. You name it, you'll have it. I want to say this, though. We agents are often criticized for being loaded with gadgetry, yet you managed to save us all with just—with just your wit and your bare hands!"

Then he took her arm and escorted her across the flowerbeds to the front of the blazing building, to join the smoke-blackened group of agents.

"This just about wraps it up," said one, staring at the fire.

"But good!" another agreed. "Us too, if we hadn't been quick. By the time that lot burns out there won't be a thing but ashes and the walls!'

"Just as well," Solo sighed. "The kind of thing Louise was peddling is best destroyed. Come on, let's get back aboard before the whole of Corfu comes to stare."

They were an odd foursome as they gathered round the table in the big cabin of the yacht and listened to Solo making his report. His face was striped with soot and his suit was singed in several places. So was Susan's wrap. She was pale, but her eyes were alert. Katherine, her shawl clutched tightly about her, had eyes only for Illya Kuryakin, who lounged back against the cushions as calmly as if he had just returned from a moonlight swim. All around them was the subdued growl of power as the yacht sped through the sea.

"—and so the Argyr Palace, the four Thrushes, and the Countess, are all a total write-off. Also all her techniques and—er—creations."

"On the whole, Mr. Solo, I incline to think that it is just as well."

"I'll agree with that, sir. Just a point. None of this would have been possible, and we wouldn't be sitting here talking about it, if it had not been for the courageous, ingenious and very timely intervention of Miss Katherine Winter. That's the cook-housekeeper I told you about" Solo gave her a grin, and added, "She saved all our lives!"

"Indeed! May I speak to her?"

Solo passed the microphone over. Katherine gulped, stared at it.

"Mr. Waverly? That's not true, about me being courageous. I was never so frightened in all my life before!"

"That's quite all right, my dear. We all feel like that, afterwards. I hope you will allow us to think of some way of showing our gratitude."

Kuryakin leaned forward suddenly and took the microphone.

"I'd like to make a suggestion, sir."

"By all means, Mr. Kuryakin. What is it?"

"Well, sir, Miss Winter confided in me that she was indirectly working for the C.I.A. I think she wanted just a taste of adventure. I think she has had that taste, and more."

"I've had all I want!" she declared feelingly, but Kuryakin shook his head at her warningly.

"On the other hand, she has certain talents that would make her a valuable member of any organization. Even ours. I imagine, if we asked her properly, she would agree to some kind of transfer."

"I don't follow you, Mr. Kuryakin!"

"What I'm getting at, sir, is that she really is an excellent cook. And you have frequently said that we lack that particular line of expertise!" The air-waves were pregnantly silent for a long while. Solo grinned.

"You really are a smart Russian!" he whispered.

"Let me speak to Miss Winter again, please." Waverly sounded thoughtful. Katherine took the microphone.

"Hello!"

"Miss Winter, are you really a very good cook?"

"I think so." She hesitated then went on with stirring confidence. "Good enough for the Countess Anne-Marie Louise de St. Denis and all her many guests, with never any complaints. Good enough?"

"Hmm! Yes, I would think so. Miss Winter, I offer you a proposition. I will deal on your behalf with the C.I.A. I am on fair terms with them. I will obtain you an honorable discharge. In return, will you accept a post with us, on the understanding that you will not in any way be involved in any hazard, that you will work only in our Headquarters, and that you will be responsible for the menu, with adequate staff and facilities? And a salary." He named a figure that made her gasp.

"Oh yes!" she said. "I'd love that, thank you!"

Susan Harvey watched as the two men beamed and congratulated the new recruit on her appointment. When the chat had died down a little she said,

"May I apply as the first pupil?"

"Pupil?" Katherine stared at her in wonder.

"Yes indeed. I can see that I have been using all the wrong techniques. I'm going to have to learn how to cook!"

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO