"Only if it gives you sleepless nights."
"Why did they introduce you at the talks yesterday as a ministry researcher?"
"It's an honorary title." I smiled. "I'm flattered that you were listening."
"It's not what appears on your visa application. I could have you thrown out for lying to immigration authorities."
"Why, what did it say on the application?"
"You didn't fill it out?"
"Of course not. Do I look like I fill out my own visa applications?"
"It says you are a third secretary."
I turned to him. "Third secretary? They could have done better than that."
"You are more interesting than I was led to believe. How about a cup of coffee? Let's get in out of this cold wind."
"No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, though." I thought that sounded diplomatic. A little oily, perhaps.
"Don't worry, you can spend some time with me. None of your people are watching."
"Someone is covering my back."
"No. They were, but their car was in a minor accident and they've been detained."
"I see."
"These things happen in Geneva. On the weekends, with all the traffic, the roads can be difficult to negotiate."
"Just the same, I think maybe I'll just walk back to my mission. I saw some chestnut trees along the street I want to look at."
"Your mission is on the other side of the lake, a long walk, especially in this weather. Perhaps you'd allow me to drive you? I could let you off a few blocks away, near the statue, the one of the woman whose lovely backside faces the road. No one would know."
"Why this change of heart? Last time we met, you wanted me out of the country."
"I did. For one thing, you people attract others. It's as if you are flowers, and the bees of services from other countries cannot resist. They swarm in here and do silly things. That complicates my life, and I prefer life to be uncomplicated, or as uncomplicated as I can make it."
"Let me know how it turns out."
"To tell you the truth, I thought you were here to deal in missile parts. I've had enough of that for a while. In the last few weeks, I've gone through stacks of blurry copies of bills of sale and shipping manifests until I nearly went blind. If you were dealing in missile parts, I'd have booted you out without a second thought."
"Why would I be dealing in missiles?"
He shrugged. "Why not? There's money in it. Arms go through airports all the time. We usually don't stop shipments unless they are labeled "Weapons;" it's bad for commerce. In fact, yours is the only one we've stopped in a long time. We were asked to intercept it, so that's what we did. The shipping form was unimaginatively filled out. 'Bulldozer replacement parts,' it said. I haven't seen too many bulldozers with stabilizer fins, have you?"
"I don't know anything about missiles. Or bulldozers, for that matter."
"That was my conclusion, but it leaves a question. Why are you here?"
"Ah, finally. Why didn't you ask before? It's not a secret. I'm here because my mother likes chocolate, and the store near our villa in Pyongyang ran out."
"Very good." He laughed and looked around. "That will be a great shot, the chief of the Bundesamt fur Polizei, sitting on a bench and laughing with a North Korean agent. Would you like a print? Or would you rather have a video of you with one of the Portuguese girls that hang out in our bars?"
"I don't know any Portuguese girls. The other day you were pushing Indonesians." The chief of Swiss counterintelligence was following me around? You'd think the man would have more important things to do.
He stood up. "My name, in case you are interested, is Beret. Please call me Monsieur Beret. I will call you Monsieur O. Or perhaps you'd rather I call you Inspector." He watched for my reaction. I looked out at the lake and wondered briefly how much more he knew about me. And how he knew it.
"It will start to snow within the hour. Stay warm, Inspector, however you can."
6
It was Saturday, so there were no talks scheduled. That was fine, because I didn't want to go over to the mission and make faces at the diplomats. I wandered by the chestnut trees and watched for a while as they danced in the wind. You couldn't say they were graceful. A couple of big cars drove up to the hotel across the street and parked, but no one got in or out. It was getting too windy to stand around, so I headed across one of the bridges into a shopping district. I started down a covered passageway, and there was the Man with Three Fingers, examining watches in the window of a jewelry store. Somehow, I wasn't surprised he turned up again. I had been pretty sure that just paying for his drink at the Sosan coffee shop wouldn't be enough to keep him out of my hair forever. Maybe I should have bought him lunch.
"A chance encounter, I suppose." I walked up slowly and stopped a step behind him. He looked surprisingly at ease. At first I thought he hadn't heard me, but he wouldn't have missed my reflection on the glass. He moved, barely, to acknowledge my presence.
"I leave nothing to chance anymore. Maybe you shouldn't either." He pointed at a watch. "Do you see that? It costs twenty thousand euros. Why would anyone spend that amount of money on a watch?"
"Maybe they really, really want to be sure they know what time it is."
He pointed at another watch. "That one is ten thousand euros. Do we conclude it only tells time half as well? Perhaps it only tells time during the day, and you need another watch, one with diamonds, for night."
"Are you really supposed to be out all by yourself like this? I thought special police roamed in herds. Where are your pals?"
"You're my pal, O. Remember?" He finally turned to face me. "Or do you still just discard people when it suits you?"
I let that alone. It wasn't worth batting back. "The Swiss service is pretty good. They must have a bead on you already."
"I doubt it. They think I'm Mexican."
"Mexican? You know Spanish?"
"Don't worry yourself over what I know."
"I'm not. It's just that the locals are keeping tabs on me, and by now I would assume they have taken twenty pictures of us standing here talking. Since I don't know Spanish, they'll assume you must know Korean. That will interest them, a Mexican with a mastery of Korean. They aren't exactly kindred languages."
"Really? And what would you call a kindred language to Korean?"
I figured he wasn't really interested, so I kept quiet.
"Still the same, aren't you? Just like on the operation. When you weren't worrying, you were fussing. I guess you must have fussed all the way out of the room, with me on the floor. Of course, I wouldn't know. I was bleeding and unconscious. Practically dead. I guess that must have worried you, huh?"
"Mexicans don't speak Korean."
"We could be speaking English, or Chinese. Like I said, don't start worrying yourself on my account." He looked back at the watches. "No matter how much they cost, they all mark time the same way. The casing doesn't make a bit of difference; it doesn't go any smoother, or faster, or happier. It just goes, isn't that right? And sooner or later"-he touched my shoulder with his ruined hand-"it always runs out."
A black car cruised by, the windows open.
"Well," I said in a loud voice, "adios, amigo."
7
Sunday it rained, and when it didn't rain, it snowed. That night I had trouble sleeping. It was ten o'clock in the morning in Pyongyang, no wonder I couldn't sleep. So what if the Swiss clocks showed 2:00 A.M.? That wasn't the time in my head, or on my watch. I never changed my watch to local time. Who the hell cared what time it was in Switzerland? The message Sohn had given me kept running through my head. When was I going to deliver it?