“No. Something more easily portable, and much more deadly. He is going in for bacteriological warfare.”

He stared at me, and I explained:

“The major armies of the world are all manufacturing bacteriological weapons, and not one of them will use them until and unless the other side does. As a matter of fact, there’s been a treaty in force ever since 1925 banning the use of bacteriological weapons in war. Only some of the major and minor powers never ratified it. The United States, Japan, Uruguay, Brazil, a few others...But everyone’s stockpiling them just in case, in heavily guarded arsenals in the more secluded parts of the world. But Loveless was in Scotland recently, and there he stole enough of a deadly bacteria to wipe out half of Africa in a matter of hours. Not a very nice thought, is it?”

He did not answer. He was staring moodily at the swans that were sitting placidly on the small tree-shaded pond.

I said again: “A nasty business, wouldn’t you say?”

He nodded. “If there is anything I can do, Senhor...I would be glad of the chance to help.”

“Good,” I said, smiling, “that’s what I really wanted to know.”

He looked up at me quickly: “How could you doubt, Senhor? The man who murdered my General...?”

“All right then, listen carefully. Loveless has a hideout, just across the street from here, in Rua Vicente, number eleven. In case you don’t know it, it’s the very narrow house next door to the Peseda Cafe, three narrow stories high with a blue and yellow tile facing, you know the one I mean?”

He nodded gravely, watching me. “I know it, Senhor. I pass it frequently, on my way to take a glass of wine in the evenings.”

“Oh? In the Peseda?”

He smiled deprecatingly: “No, Senhor, the Peseda is a little too expensive for the likes of me. I go to the Modana, at the lower level. Wine in the Modana is only vint tstoes a glass.”

I suppose you could translate vint tstoes as two bits, but it’s really only about three cents; not very much for a glass of good wine.

“I see. Well, we’re setting up a watch on number eleven. We want to see when Loveless goes in there so that when we raid it were sure of finding him at home. We’ll have a dozen men watching the house, unobtrusively. I thought you might like to be one of them.”

“I would like that very much, Senhor. And...may I say? That is a very kind thought. I think that not many people would be so understanding.”

“But there’s one very important point. It is absolutely essential that nobody sees what you are doing. The other men are all trained for this, and one of them will show you what to do, so as not to be seen by anyone. One little carelessness now...”

“I understand, Senhor. If there is carelessness, it will not be mine, you have my word.”

“Good. So that’s settled then.” I said: “Someone will be along very soon to instruct you. Just remember—absolute security.”

“I will, Senhor.”

A couple of young people, arm in arm, passed by us and stood by the edge of the water, feeding the swans. We watched them for a while, the image of all that was peaceful, and I sighed and said:

“He brought a man in from Spain, a chemist, to make more of that bacteria he’s stolen, can you imagine that? As if he didn’t have enough of it already.”

Nacimento clicked his tongue, “Terrible, Senhor.”

I said: “But it’s fortunate for us that he did.”

The sergeant looked up at me with a look of worried puzzlement on his face. “Oh? It does not sound very good, Senhor.”

“But it is. Because every day he stays here now, to make up his damned bacteria, is another day for us to apply to catching him. He’s not the kind of man to know much about microbiology, fortunately, so he doesn’t realize that he’s got more of that botulin already than he could ever possibly use. He plans to cut it with flour and seed it from an aircraft, the most wasteful way he could possibly do it. If he used aerosols instead, he’d have enough to cover half the Continent.”

He was not too sure what an aerosol was. I said: “Any kind of canister, sergeant, with the bacteria suspended under air pressure inside it. Deadly, absolutely deadly.”

“I see.” He smiled sadly and looked at the ground and said, with a sort of deprecating laugh: “No, Senhor, I do not see. I am not a very educated man. But I will take your word that what you say is correct.”

I sighed. “If he knew about aerosols, knew just how potent that stuff is, Loveless could be on his way home tomorrow. And then...then, our chances of finding him just might be nil. But let’s hope we get him in the Rua Vicente house. And for that, Nacimento, we’re counting on you to help us.”

We shook hands, and he saluted me twice for good measure, and I left him and went over to the edge of the fine old battlements that looked out over the town, the red roofs bright in the hot sun, the seven hills of the city crowded with stucco and tile-faced houses piled one on top of the other in splendid disarray.

Strange how it’s always seven hills, not nine or six, when the tourists pamphlets describe a beautiful city: Rome, Hong Kong, Rio. There are supposed to be seven in Lisbon too, and I started to count them once and gave up when I reached ninety-two.

The great wide square of the Rossio was busy with traffic down there, far below the walls, with the Elevador da Santa Justa beyond it, a tall, slender elevator of grey-painted ironwork, built by France’s Eiffel, that was taking pedestrians up from the Baixa to the busy streets of the higher levels. Far to the west, the slender ribbon of the Salvador bridge seemed suspended in midair on nothing at all. I waited for ten minutes, and then the ration truck passed by and picked me up, and soon I was with Fenrek again, down in the cheerful little cafe opposite the police station.

He said, accusingly: “You look impossibly smug, Cain, You look like a cat that knows where there’s a big fat mouse.”

I told him gently: “Just thinking about likelihoods; it’s a habit of mine. I know the mouse is there, but I’m wondering where he might go. Do you know the Cafe Peseda?”

“Next to the house on Rua Vicente? Yes, I know it. Why?”

“Nice place?”

He shrugged. “Better than most of them. But you’re thinking of going there, I shouldn’t. You’re too conspicuous to be seen so near Loveless’ hideout.”

I said: “I wouldn’t dream of going there. What do they charge for a glass of wine?”

Again, those elegant shoulders raised themselves a trifle. “The same as anywhere else, I imagine. Not very much. Does it matter?”

I said politely: “Could you find out for me?”

“If you wish.” He looked at me thoughtfully, “I wish you’d tell me what’s on your mind. There’s always something up your sleeve, isn’t there?”

“At the moment, the price of a glass of wine in the Peseda.”

He sighed. He went to the telephone at the back of the cafe, and in a moment came back and said with yet another shrug: “Vint fstoes, about three cents American, does that make you happy?”

I said: “Uh-huh. I thought I might take Astrid out to a Fado later tonight.”

He glared: “Cain, you’re impossible! And suppose we have to mount a raid on the Rua Vicente at midnight?”

I said calmly: “You’ll know where to find me. We’ll be at the Alentejano. You know where that is?”

“I know.” He sounded fed up. “Twelve miles from where the action is going to be.”

“Ten minutes in the Jensen. I’m going there now to do a small job. If you need me, just call me, right?”

He was very suspicious; that’s another trouble with Interpol, they just can’t believe a man does something for nothing once in a while. Cause and effect, or effect and cause, it’s all they seem to think about.

But this was the waiting time, if only for a few hours. And when there’s nothing to do but wait, then a little relaxation is good for the soul. As I paid the waiter and got up to leave, Fenrek looked at me with an air of the utmost distrust. He said:

“The action is going to be in the Rua Vicente, isn’t it? Because, if you know something I don’t...”