Digital Fortress Chapter 24

David Becker stood in a foretell sales booth across the street from La Clinica de Salud Publica hed salutary been ejected for harassing patient number 104, Monsieur Cloucharde.Things were curtly more complicated than hed anticipated. His little favor to Strathmore-picking up some in-person belongings-had turned into a scavenger hunt for some bizarre ring.Hed just c all(prenominal)ed Strathmore and t grey-haired him about the German tourist. The news had not been received well. After demanding the specifics, Strathmore had locomote silent for a long time. David, he had finally said legitimately gravely, finding that ring is a matter of national security. Im leaving it in your hands. Dont fail me. The phone had gone dead.David stood in the phone booth and sighed. He picked up the tattered Guia Telefonica and began scanning the yellow pages. Here goes nothing, he muttered to himself. at that place were only three listings for Escort Services in the directory, and he didnt hold up much to go on. All he knew was that the Germans date had red copper, which handily was r ar in Spain. The delirious Cloucharde had recalled the see to its name as Dewdrop. Becker cringed-Dewdrop? It sounded more equal a cow than a beautiful girl. Not a grave Catholic name at all Cloucharde must gravel been mistaken.Becker dialed the premiere number.Servicio Social de Sevilla, a pleasant female voice answered.Becker affected his Spanish with a thick German accent. Hola,?hablas Aleman?No. But I declaim English came the reply.Becker continued in broken English. Thank you. I inquire if you to inspection and repair me?How can we be of service? The woman spoke tardily in an effort to aid her potential c lie innt. Perhaps you would like an escort?Yes, please. Today my sidekick, Klaus, he has girl, rattling beautiful. cherry-red hair. I want same. For tomorrow, please.Your brother Klaus comes hither? The voice was suddenly effervescent, like they were old fri stops.Yes. He very(prenominal) fat. You remember him, no?He was here today, you say?Becker could hear her checking the books. in that location would be no Klaus listed, still Becker figured clients seldom used their real names.Hmm, Im sorry, she apologized. I dont see him here. What was the girls name your brother was with?Had red hair, Becker said, avoiding the question.Red hair? she repeated. There was a pause. This is Servicio Social de Sevilla. Are you sure your brother comes here?Sure, yes.Senor, we need no redheads. We have only pure Andalusian beauties.Red hair, Becker repeated, touch perception stupid.Im sorry, we have no redheads at all, but if you-Name is Dewdrop, Becker blurted, feeling even stupider.The ridiculous name apparently meant nothing to the woman. She apologized, suggested Becker was confusing her with other agency, and politely hung up.Strike one.Becker frowned and dialed the next number. It connected immediately.Buenas noches, Mujeres Espana. May I help you?Becker l aunched into his same spiel, a German tourist who was ordaining to pay brighten dollar for the red-haired girl who was out with his brother today.This time the response was in polite German, but again no redheads. Keine Rotkopfe, Im sorry. The woman hung up.Strike two.Becker looked rectify at the phone book. There was only one number left. The end of the rope already.He dialed.Escortes Belen, a man answered in a very slick tone.Again Becker told his story.Si, si, senor. My name is Senor Roldan. I would be pleased to help. We have two redheads. Lovely girls.Beckers heart leapt. Very beautiful? he repeated in his German accent. Red hair?Yes, what is your brothers name? I will tell you who was his escort today. And we can send her to you tomorrow.Klaus Schmidt. Becker blurted a name recalled from an old textbook.A long pause. Well, sir I dont see a Klaus Schmidt on our registry, but perhaps your brother chose to be discreet-perhaps a wife at theme? He laughed inappropriately.Yes, K laus married. But he very fat. His wife no lie with him. Becker rolled his eyes at himself reflected in the booth. If Susan could hear me now, he thought. I fat and lonely too. I want lie with her. Pay dozens of money.Becker was giving an impressive performance, but hed gone too far. Prostitution was penal in Spain, and Senor Roldan was a careful man. Hed been burned before by Guardia officials represent as eager tourists. I want lie with her. Roldan knew it was a setup. If he said yes, he would be heavily fined and, as always, forced to brook one of his most talented escorts to the police commissioner free of charge for an holy weekend.When Roldan spoke, his voice not quite as friendly. Sir, this is Escortes Belen. May I aim whos calling?Aah Sigmund Schmidt, Becker invented weakly.Where did you get our number?La Guia Telefonica-yellow pages.Yes, sir, thats because we are an escort service.Yes. I want escort. Becker sensed something was wrong.Sir, Escortes Belen is a service p roviding escorts to businessmen for luncheons and dinners. This is why we are listed in the phone book. What we do is legal. What you are looking for is a prostitute. The ledger slid off his tongue like a vile disease.But my brotherSir, if your brother spent the day kissing a girl in the park, she was not one of ours. We have strict regulations about client-escort contact.ButYou have us confused with someone else. We only have two redheads, Inmaculada and Rocio, and uncomplete would allow a man to sleep with them for money. That is called prostitution, and it is illegal in Spain. estimable night, sir.But-CLICK.Becker swore under his breath and dropped the phone back into its cradle. Strike three. He was real Cloucharde had said the German had hired the girl for the entire weekend.Becker stepped out of the phone booth at the intersection of Calle Salado and Avenida Asuncion. Despite the traffic, the sweet scent of Seville oranges hung all around him. It was twilight-the most roma ntic hour. He thought of Susan. Strathmores words invaded his take care Find the ring. Becker flopped miserably on a bench and pondered his next set off.What move?