“Weapons? Guns?”
She gave it a thought. “I don’t know. Of course, that would be against the law — American law. Marko had a high regard for American law.”
Wolfe nodded. “Not unmerited. I didn’t know he was in so deep. So you are assuming that he was murdered because of these activities. That either Belgrade or Moscow regarded him as a menace, or at least an intolerable nuisance, and arranged for his removal. Is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Belgrade or Moscow?”
Carla hesitated. “I don’t know. Of course there are those who secretly work with the Russians all over Yugoslavia, but more in Montenegro than other parts, because it is next to Albania, and Albania is ruled by the puppets of the Russians.”
“So are Hungary and Rumania and Bulgaria.”
“Yes, but you know the border between Montenegro and Albania. You know those mountains.”
“I do indeed. Or I did.” From the look on Wolfe’s face, the emotions aroused by the memory were mixed. “I was nine years old the first time I climbed the Black Mountain.” He shrugged it off. “Whether Belgrade or Moscow, you think they had an agent in New York, or sent one, to deal with Marko. Do you?”
“Of course!”