Krysalis: Krysalis (14 page)
“Omega.”
One long, mute exhalation … now she resembled a corpse for tranquility.
“I want you to remember certain things. It’s dangerous for you to be seen by anyone. No one must know where you are. All right?”
After a long wait, to his immense relief, she nodded.
“Do not go out unless I am with you, to look after you.”
She did not react, but he hurried on. “Remember, David wants you to be here. He cannot find the time to come to you. His job is important. But he wants you to be here. He is happy that you are here. You should stay in this house for your own protection, and for his.”
She was frowning in her trance; he did not know how to interpret that. “Forget your troubles. Trust me.”
“I trust you.”
He had already risen to his feet, not expecting her to speak. Her words startled him. After a few moments he regained enough assurance to leave her and do the rounds of the villa, ensuring that every door was locked, before going to his bedroom.
On a table next to the window stood a telephone.
Gerhard unplugged the instrument. Anna’s noticing the overhead wires leading to the house had unnerved him, one more sign that, despite the injections he had administered, she was neither as sick nor as subservient as he needed her to be.
There was scarcely room for the telephone in the special cavity behind his bed, along with Krysalis, the hypodermic, ampules, and the Luger that were already there, but at last, after a struggle, he made it fit.
10
Louis Redman, the CIA’s chief of London Station, received Albert in his palatial suite of offices immediately above the ambassador’s, overlooking Grosvenor Square. “I’m so very glad you could come,” he murmured as he rose, buttoning his jacket. “You know Bill Hayes?”
“Of course.” Albert extended his hand to another American who was coming around the desk as he entered.
“Hi, Albert,” said Bill. “I’m glad to see they’ve had the sense to bring you in early for once.”
“Ah … I’m not exactly in, yet. That’s why I’ve made a point of inviting myself for morning coffee.” Albert looked around and sighed. “I detect a generous budget, don’t I? All that paneling, it’s new.”
“Rats,” Redman said dramatically. “We need wainscots for our rats. Take a seat, Albert.”
And while they ranged themselves around the low coffee table, laughing pleasantly, Albert studied his hosts to refresh his memory.
The two men had little in common on the surface. Albert conceived of Redman as an untypical, anglophile American, of quietly efficient appearance, a transatlantic Jeeves with that gentleman’s gentleman’s tendency to “shimmer.” His clothes were reasonably priced but always looked immaculate; here was a man who brushed cloth and shined leather. He also kept his manners polished, something that counted in Albert’s eyes.
Hayes he thought of as a mess, someone who wore expensive clothes and let them go to pot. The lenses of his immense rectangular spectacles were so thick that he had to have the frames specially made. When he sported a bow tie, as he did this morning, he reminded Albert of a student in some amateur play, dressed up for the part of Mr. Boffin the Scientist. Or Mr Golliwog, as certain members of the British contingent privately called him; for Hayes had accelerated into the fast lane from a New York public housing project, and he was black.
“You both know and I know what’s wanted here,” Albert murmured as he accepted a cup of weak Colombian blend from Redman, but it was Hayes who answered, “A quick kill.”
“Correct.”
“Let me get this clear,” Redman said in a low voice, “before we get embroiled in politics. We asked for a briefing on the disappearance of Krysalis and you’ve been sent in response to that, right?”
“I drew the short straw, yes.” Which wasn’t strictly true, thought Albert; he’d fought hard to ensure that his name was chosen.
“From which, are we to assume that you’ve been
brought in by our opposite numbers in the British fraternity on the usual specialist terms?”
“Not quite. Neutralization of Anna is merely one option being studied at the moment. I’m to make my preparations, but I’m being held in reserve.”
Hayes and Redman exchanged glances. “Then, forgive me,” Redman said, “but ought we to be dealing with you at all? At this stage, I mean?”
“That depends on what you want. I thought it might help if I—as opposed to my more peaceable colleagues—could establish what you’ve been told and how you propose to tackle this mess.”
Redman grunted. “As to the first part: a woman’s missing with her husband’s copy of Krysalis. She hasn’t made contact with the Reds yet, as far as the indications go—is that right, Bill?”
Hayes nodded.
“As regards the second question: we want the file back, soonest.”
“The file?”
“Yes.”
“And the woman?”
“We’re indifferent.” Redman smiled. “But as far as Anna goes, your vote’s for hunt and destroy, right?”
“Emphatically so.” Albert reached out to pocket a couple of shortbread biscuits. He did not eat sweet things, but Montgomery did, which went a long way toward explaining his corpulence.
“Tell us who stands where, Albert.”
Albert pursed his lips while he considered how best to answer Redman’s question. “Brewster’s been put in charge,” he began cautiously. “He’s huffing and puffing as usual. Doesn’t want to decide anything.”
Hayes coughed, and made a scornful face.
“What about Six?” Redman asked.
“Shorrocks very reasonably won’t make up his mind without some hard intelligence. Five have assigned Fox to this case—know him?”
Redman nodded.
“I’ve got a lot of time for Fox, and on our side he’s the one whose point of view most closely resembles mine. Given the choice, he’d let me run.”
“Why are you here, Albert?”
“You asked for a briefing and I—”
“Why are you really here?” Redman’s expression had turned less genial. Albert met his eyes, and for a long moment held him transfixed.
“I’ve been doing my homework,” he said at last, in a quiet voice. “She’s lethal.”
“Anna Lescombe?” Redman seemed to have trouble believing it, but his manners still held.
“She’s shit.”
“Damn right,” interjected Hayes. “Albert’s a class act, Louis, you should listen to him.”
Albert had begun with his own, private reasons for wanting to see some action. Twenty thousand reasons … but things had moved on since his first meeting with Fox, at the Lescombes’ house.
“If she’s bad,” he said, “and I’m convinced she is, she might have picked up a hell of a lot from her husband, over the years. He’s only been on the Krysalis committee for a few weeks, but his positive security clearance goes back years. And she’s corrupt.”
“Explain that,” Redman said.
“She’s got a lot of money, a lot of success at her back. Which means that if she’s a spy then it’s because she’s got contempt for society. She’s doing it for the fun of it. For sport.”
Suddenly Albert’s eyes met Hayes’, and he remembered that here was a kindred spirit. They could both see a way into Anna Lescombe. She was rich and she was free; she celebrated her privileges by undermining those of others. Albert could tolerate genuine ideologues, even when they were opposed to him. But he had no time for discontented traitors without excuses for doing what they did. Hayes felt the same way, he could sense that.
“Right,” said Albert. “You asked me why I’m here? The purpose of this meeting is to establish—informally, for the moment—how we’re going to set about retrieving the lost Krysalis file and clear up the mess generally in time for the Vancouver summit. I take it we’re all agreed about the importance of this?”
“Shit,
yes!”
The interjection came stinging across the coffee table. Hayes’ face was hard.
“Krysalis is deadly for us,” he said. “That file contains Pentagon-originated, vote-sensitive material, some of it highly critical of our pro-Europe, pro-NATO lobbies.” He rested one elbow on the table and jabbed his forefinger at Albert.
“You
… are going to have to be pretty damn quick on your feet.”
“You sound a mite worried, Bill,” Albert commented.
“Bet your ass. Bush and Gorbachev are about to face each other across that table at Vancouver. What’s on the agenda?
Everything!
Reduction of nuclear weapons across the board, reduction of conventional armor and artillery, reductions in manpower. You name it, they’ll cut it. If NATO can manage to keep its General Situation Plan to itself, that is. But once Krysalis goes over
the wire, our President will be playing poker with a mirror behind him and that is
out.”
“Oh yes, indeed. Especially since Krysalis makes it clear that, if D-Day was tomorrow, West Germany would be left to its own devices.”
“Look.” Redman spread his hands, palms upward, like a priest invoking the Holy Ghost. “Bill and I don’t make policy around here. So please …”
“We want that file back, safe, intact,” Hayes said. “We’re going to use any means we have to.” He smiled at Albert. “We’ll shoot your woman on sight. I mean that.”
Albert sighed. “I was afraid you’d take that line.”
“Well, no one else is going to.” Redman sounded touchy. “Bill, you’re off base. There’s no question of anyone getting shot, not yet.”
Hayes sat back, without apologizing.
“We don’t need an assassin right now, Albert. If you’ve come here today to whip up a little support, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Albert was nettled. Redman had put his finger on the spot. Why wouldn’t anyone see how dangerous the Lescombe woman was? She looked so innocent, that was the trouble. No one wanted to believe ill of her—Brewster, Shorrocks, even Fox himself. (By now, Albert had conveniently forgotten his own favorable reactions to Anna’s photograph.)
“So talk to us about David Lescombe,” Hayes said.
“Not sure,” Albert replied. “There’s no proof—”
“Do you
believe
him when he says his wife didn’t know how to open the safe?” Hayes snapped. “When her fingerprints were on the keys, actually
on
them! A hundred gets you five she kept her pearls in there along with their code books.”
“Given our present state of knowledge, that’s a bit steep,” Albert replied. “Brewster’s words, in case you’re wondering.”
“Yeah, whatever. Just remember, we want to be there when Five grill Lescombe. What’ve they got in mind?”
“Their intention,” Albert said, “is to let Mr. Lescombe run.”
What?”
“Now, Bill.” Albert raised one hand; he might have been a traffic policeman, or Hitler saluting. “See it from Fox’s point of view. There’s no evidence against Lescombe at this time. So why not let him lead us up the line, see where he goes? Who he talks to?”
“That’s your risk,” Hayes put in sourly. “None of ours.”
“Well, of course, he’s their man!” Redman let his impatience with Hayes show through.
“Was, you mean,” Hayes yapped. “Not any longer.”
“How can you be sure?” Redman was angry now, it showed in his face as well as his voice. “You’re pointing the finger at someone who has an impeccable record. Brewster and the rest of them have a point: you can’t just light a fire under your best people on suspicion of—”
“Oh, I don’t believe this!” Hayes rolled his head around in an exaggerated gesture of despair. “Great spies I have known … look, please look, we know that Krysalis hasn’t made it back through the Iron Curtain, right?”
Albert, delighted by the way things were warming up, was quick to nod.
“We’ll know if it does, right?”
“Probably. There’s certain steps the Warsaw Pact
would have to take if they knew what was in Krysalis. Assuming they didn’t just make it public, of course.”
“Which might well be the most effective thing they could do,” Redman observed.
“So she’s gone into hiding,” said Hayes. “Who’s this woman working for, someone tell me?”
“Bill, be reasonable,” said Redman. “She may not be working for anyone. She’s a rank amateur. Fingerprints everywhere…. And the empty pill bottle Five found points up someone under strain, possibly terminal strain.”
