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.As he stood up the coffins began to tremble on their racks.A distant rumble of sound built up rapidly to a roar as a train raced across the railway viaduct outside.For several seconds the workshops were filled with a deafening clamour of noise.When the silence returned Ketterman walked slowly back to Cooper.Beads of sweat stood out on the undertaker’s forehead although the atmosphere in the embalming room was chilled.‘I thought our “Connaught” would suit best, Mr.Ketterman.It’s always been popular with you Americans.’ Cooper pointed to a large ornate casket carved out of dark mahogany that was lying open on two low trestles.With a shaking hand he stroked the quilted interior.‘Zinc-lined, then white satin and flannellette.Our best finish.’Ketterman glanced into the pristine cleanness of the casket’s interior and nodded.‘Perfect.Let’s get on with the holes, fast!’ Cooper blinked uncomprehendingly at him.‘At least a dozen.’ Ketterman strode over to a workbench and picked up a one-inch brace and bit.He thrust it impatiently into the little man’s hands and began indicating spots around the casket where he should drill‘But we only make holes in caskets to be buried at sea—’ Cooper caught sight of Ketterman’s threatening expression and bent quickly over his task, winding frantically on the handle of the drill ‘—to make them sink, of course.’Ketterman ignored him and turned to pick up the zinc inner lid that stood propped against the wall.It had a little window of plate glass eighteen inches square let into it at about head height.‘That’s for identification purposes, Mr.Ketterman.’ Cooper, panting, with exertion, was trying to watch Ketterman over his shoulder as he worked.‘Your embassy doesn’t do it any more.But most of ‘em still send diplomats down here to identify the body from the passport once its been sealed in—’ Cooper broke off suddenly in alarm and turned to stare up at the window in the wall behind him.He could see nothing through the frosted glass but something had deflected the light momentarily.He looked quickly towards Ketterman for reassurance.But the American was still staring thoughtfully at the identification panel in the inner lid.‘They make us solder that on.If a dead body isn’t aspirated properly, you know—the gases build up inside it.A corpse can explode and blow the lid off an ordinary coffin, if there isn’t an inner metal lining with a soldered lid.’ A hint of hysteria had crept into Cooper’s voice and by now he was turning constantly to glance over his shoulder at the window.‘If that happens in an aircraft hold all the other cargo can get contaminated.It’s happened more than once.The French for instance are terrible embalmers.Bodies from France often reek to high heaven.’Ketterman laid the panel carefully aside and walked over to the bench where Cooper had left the file of sealed documents.He picked them up and began to inspect them minutely.‘They’re all there, you’ll find, Mr.Ketterman.The top one’s the affidavit I swore at your embassy.Just a simple affidavit, that’s all you need now if you don’t send someone to identify.The Russians and the East Europeans still come through.They don’t trust anybody.We have to put extra screws in the top of the coffin and drip sealing wax on them so they can stamp them with their seals—’ Cooper stopped and swung round towards the window again.This time he caught a glimpse of a blurred shadow through the frosted glass, before it ducked away out of sight.‘The Israelis are the most careful though, Mr.K.’ Cooper was almost sobbing now.‘They always come, never miss.Feel all round the body and underneath it.Search the whole coffin with a fine tooth comb before it’s sealed.Nobody else does that.’Ketterman finished scrutinising the documents and tossed them onto the bench.He watched as the point of the drill broke through the zinc lining then put a restraining hand on his shoulder.‘Okay Cooper? that’s enough.Now open up the garage door.’Cooper licked his lips nervously and hurried over to the garage door.When he’d opened it Ketterman slipped through and waved a signal to the driver behind the wheel of the truck.A minute later it had been reversed into the garage.Cooper replaced the padlock with hands that were now trembling violently.His face twitched as be watched the black taxi driver and the fair-haired man climb up into the mobile surgery to lift the stretcher out.It was covered with a white sheet but the outline of a man’s figure was discernible beneath it.The two men manoeuvred it carefully down into the garage, then looked enquiringly at Ketterman.At that instant Cooper glanced up over his shoulder at the window behind him for the hundredth time—and found himself staring into the distorted face of Vladimir Razduhev.Ketterman swung round as Cooper let out a shriek of fright
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