He sat in the airport lounge, sipping undrinkable Yugoslavian coffee. 'rhe contrast between the British embassy and the snack bar in a communist - controlled country was not entirely lost on Abel. At last the plane took off, only to be delayed again in Amsterdam. This time they made him change planes.
When he finally arrived at Idlewild, Abel had been travelling for nearly thirty - six hours. He was so tired he could hardly walk. As he left the customs area, he suddenly found himself surrounded by newsmen, and the cameras started flashing and clicking. Immediately he smiled. The announcement must have been made, he thought. Now it's official. He stood as straight as he could and walked slowly and with dignity, disguising his limp. There was no sign of George, as the cameramen jostled each other unceremoniously to be sure of a picture.
Then he saw George standing at the edge of the crowd, looking like death. Abel's heart lurched as he passed the barrier and a ' journalist, far from asking him what it felt like to be the first Polish - American to be appointed ambassador to Warsaw, shouted : 'Do you have any answers to the charges?'
'Me cameras went on flashing and so did the questions.
'Are the accusations true, Mr. Rosnovski?'
'How much did you actually pay Congressman Osborne?,' 'Do you deny the charges?'
'Have you returned to America to face trial?'
They wrote down Abel's replies although he never spoke. 'Get me out of here,' shouted Abel above the crowd.
George squeezed forward and managed to reach Abel and then pushed his way back through the crowd and bundled him into the waiting Cadillac. Abel bent down and Md his head in his hands, as the cameras' flashbulbs kept popping, and George shouted at the chauffeur to get moving.
'To the Baron, sir?' he asked.
'No, to Miss Rosnovski's flat on Fifty - seventh Street? 'Why?'said Abel.
'Because the press is crawling all over the Baron!
'I don't understand,' said Abel. 'In Istanbul they treat me as if I was the ambassador's elect, and I return home to find I'm a criminal. What the hell is going on, George?'
'Do you want to hear it all from me, or wait until yoxeve seen your lawyer?' asked George.
'Who have you got to represent me?' asked Abel.
'H. Trafford Jilks, the best defence attorney in America! 'And the most expensive.'
'I didn't think you would be worrying about money at a time like this, Abel.'
'You're right, George. I'm sorry. Where is he now?'
'I left him at the courthouse, but he said he'd come to the flat as soon as he was through.'
'I can't wait that long, George. For God's sake put me in the picture.
Tell me the worst.'
George drew a deep breath. 'There's a warrant out for your arrest,' he said.
'What the hell's the charge?'
'Bribery of government officials.'
'I've never been directly involved with a government official in my whole life,'protested Abel.
'I know, but it turns out that Henry Osborne has been all along, and everything he did seems to have been in your name or on your behalf.'
'Oh my God,' said Abel. 'I should never have employed the man. I, let the fact that we both hated Kane cloud my judgment. But I still find it hard to believe Henry has given anyone the dirt, because he would only end up implicating himself.'
'But Henry has disappeared,' said George, 'and suddenly, mysteriously, all his debts have been cleared up.'
'William Kane,' said Abel, hissing the words out.
'We've found nothing that points in that direction,' said George.
'There's no proof he's involved in this at all.'
'Who needs proof? You tell me how the authorities got hold of all the details.'
'We do know that much,' said George. 'It seems an anonymous package containing a file was sent direct to the justice Department in Washington.'
'Postmarked New York, no doubt,' said Abel.
'No. Chicago!
Abel was silent for a few moments. 'It couldn't have been Henry who sent the evidence to them,' he said finally. 'That doesn't make any sense.'
'How can you be so sure?' asked George.
'Because you said all his debts have been cleared up, and the justice Department wouldn't pay out that sort of money unless they thought they were going to catch Al Capone.
Henry must have sold his file to someone else. But who? The one thing we can be certain of is that he would never have released any information directly to Kane.'