Free The Thinking Machine Affair by Joel Bernard Page B

home—apartment one-four-eight, one-o-o-two Fourth Avenue, telephone number..."
    "I have all that," the second voice cut in; "but I won't need to worry you anymore—everything is in order."
    Illya heard the man leave and the sounds of the two others preparing the coffin for transportation. He switched off his receiver and removed the earphone.
    It was long after midnight when he turned into Fourth Avenue to have a look at the THRUSH agent's address. The building was deserted and he found it easy to slip in unnoticed and to take the service elevator to the first floor to apartment 148.
    The corridor was empty and Illya was able to take a good look round. Apartment 148 was the one but last, and he stood outside the entrance door for a moment to attach a highly sensitive limpet microphone which enabled him to hear every sound inside. The only thing he could hear in the apartment was the fairly loud ticking of a clock and a man breathing heavily, as if asleep.
    He waited a while, considering whether he should let himself in through the door or head for the fire escape, balance along the parapet, and climb in through the window. He wanted to fix another bug to the man's clothing to ensure his being able to overhear every word the THRUSH agent spoke.
    On impulse he extracted the necessary tool from his pocket, opened the door silently and entered the small entrance hail, without making the slightest sound. He paused a moment, to accustom his eyes to the darkness. The only sounds were of the deep breathing of the man in the room on the right and the loud ticking of the clock.
    The door to the room was open. Illya entered noiselessly. He looked at the man who was sleeping soundly and discovered that the loud ticking came from an alarm clock on the bedside table, set for 5.30 a.m.
    Illya discovered to his great delight that the man wore a heavy leather belt, ideally suited for safely securing the miniature bugging device. He knelt down next to the chair on which the belted trousers lay and expertly fixed the tiny electronic ear in the loop that held the buckle.
    This operation completed, Illya moved to the window in the adjoining room and climbed on to the parapet. On reaching the fire escape he stopped to check the bugging device in the man's belt. It worked superbly and he could still hear the ticking of the alarm clock and the deep breathing.
    He left the building.
    He arrived in good time at the airport and found a spot from where he could observe the coffin being cleared by the officials and taken to the runway to be loaded in the hold of the giant jet airliner with other luggage and freight. When departure time came, he joined the stream of travelers boarding the aircraft. He noted that the THRUSH agent was now accompanied by another man.
    Without anyone taking any undue notice of him, Illya went up the steps to the plane and made himself comfortable by a window seat at the tail end. Unobtrusively he placed the little plug in his ear to listen to what the two THRUSH agents in the front part of the airliner were saying. At first they said nothing but, after the plane was airborne and out over the Atlantic, they ordered some whisky and subsequently said they would utilize the flight for getting some sleep.
    This suited Illya admirably. He, too, was tired and could do with some rest, especially as he expected to get little chance of any after the aircraft landed at its destination.
    By the time the jet touched down at Vienna, Illya felt refreshed and ready to cope with anything. Passport and customs clearance were a mere formality. He ascertained that the coffin had been taken to the airport warehouse and, immediately afterwards, saw the man in charge of the THRUSH operation disappear into the washroom.
    Illya was almost certain that this meant the THRUSH agent was going to communicate with his center, so, pretending to make a telephone call, he fastened the listening device in his ear and was in time he hear the man