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‘He is my son. They will kill him. You must do as—’

‘Goddammit, woman, how dare you threaten me with lies and blackmail? Don’t tell me what they will and won’t do.

Anger and guilt overwhelmed him.. Images clouded rationality. Sins of the flesh. Calvin and his cane of lightning. The American flag. Images that catalysed his hatred. Here she stood before him, an enemy consort, threatening blackmail. His rage burned uncontrollably.

‘I don’t know how you got here but it’s the end of the line for you. I’m having you arrested and charged with high treason. I’ll pull the trap on your gallows myself.’

‘And how do you propose to have me arrested without revealing that I am your son’s mother?’

‘No one will believe you. A Filipino whore turned Jap agent? Hah!’

Her dark, flashing eyes revealed her frenzied state. She threw back her head and spat across the desk into his face.

He got up slowly, walked around the desk and stood very close to her. ‘I’ll teach you to respect what I stand for, you slant-eyed little bitch!’

She reared back again, growling with hate, and his own hatred erupted. He quite suddenly reached out and clamped his hands around her throat. His large bony hands first crushed her cries, then her windpipe, then her larynx. He kept squeezing, twisting. .

He could still hear the sound of it, like the sound of twigs being twisted and broken.

‘General?’

‘Yes!’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, yes, I ... my mind, uh, drifted off there. It’s been a difficult day for me.’

‘I’m sorry. I just have a couple more questions.’

‘I’ll try to be more ... uh, attentive.’

‘I’d like to get into another area,’ O’Hara said.

Here we go.

‘Does the word “Chameleon” mean anything to you?’

There was a glimmer in his eye, his lips moved, his jaw tightened. Colour seemed to rise in his cheeks. ‘This really has nothing to do with the oil business.’

‘It has to do with your business.’

‘I really am feeling a bit low, Mr O’Hara.’ He started to get up.

‘Excuse me, General, but I know about Chameleon. We need to talk about it.’

Hooker looked at him with annoyance. ‘Is that why you’re really here?’

‘Yes, sir, it is.’

‘And just what do you know?’

‘That Chameleon is head of a very efficient intelligence agency for the private sector. That his agents have killed, stolen corporate secrets, sabotaged installations at the cost of more than a hundred lives. And for some reason, AMRAN and its partners seem be his favourite victims.’

Hooker took time to dab the tobacco in the bowl of his pipe and light it. ‘Can we talk off the record for a few moments?’

O’Hara hesitated. A lot of good information had gone down the drain ‘off the record,’ but he had no choice.

‘Chameleon is probably the most dangerous terrorist in the world today,’ Hooker said. ‘His methods are unpredictable and so is his choice of victims. Nothing is beyond him. Blackmail, kidnapping, robbery, murder, sabotage, nothing at all.’

‘Do you think your competitors are behind these acts?’

‘They’re not immune. Some of them have suffered too. Obviously companies are using Chameleon’s unique

service. But I have no idea who or why.’

‘But AMRAN seems to be a particular target.’

‘I don’t know—’

‘Supposing I told you I believe Chameleon was responsible for the deaths of Simmons, Richman, Thurman... most of the executives connected with AMRAN who’ve died or been killed?’

‘I would say strong talk with no backup.’

‘I know the man who killed them all,’ O’Hara said. ‘Or most of them.’

‘Then produce him. You, have that kind of evidence, then perhaps your story will have credence.’

‘I don’t think that’s possible.’

‘Listen to me, O’Hara, nobody would be happier than myself if you were to turn up this.. . vampire and show the world what he is. But so far everything you’ve said or intimated would be comical without some way to substantiate it.’

Hooker let the smoke from his pipe trail slowly from the corner of his mouth. He sat for almost a minute, staring across the room.

‘Most of these men died of natural causes or in accidents. Heart attacks th a business where heart attacks are an occupational hazard. A high-stress business, oil is, and these were high-rolling gentlemen without exception, and all in their fifties and sixties.’

‘How about Bridges? He wasn’t in the oil business.’

‘Red Bridges was a roustabout, a salvager, a gambler. Hell, for four or five years after the war he ran deepwater salvage off the Japanese coast. Shipbuilding is a very mean business. And Red had a bad weight problem on top of that. In his sixties, and a hundred pounds overweight. Prime candidate for a coronary. See what I mean, O’Hara? Without some proof, nobody’ll believe you.’

‘That’s why he can operate the way he does. Nobody’s got guts enough to talk about it openly. Hell, we’re off the goddamn record.’

‘Do you have some personal stake in this?’ Hooker asked, surprised by his sudden outburst.

‘I’m a journalist and I’m trying to do my job the best way there is. I know Chameleon exists. You know it. Apparently dozens of other powerful businessmen know it. And you’re his chief target. Why?’

‘We refuse to pay extortion. That’s what it is, y’know, blackmail by fear.’

‘But why AMRAN? Why not Ampex or Blue Diamond?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose because we are the youngest of the oil conglomerates they think we’re the most vulnerable.’

He was sweating and he took out a handkerchief and patted his face. The pacemaker was ticking furiously. ‘I’m sorry. I... uh, I’m having a chill. Nothing to be concerned about. Blood’s just too thin. One of the hazards of growing old.’

O’Hara was genuinely concerned. The man seemed to have aged another year or two as they talked His face was gray and his eyes had become listless.

‘I’m sorry, I know this was an imposition,’ O’Hara said. ‘I’m grateful you took the time to talk with ne.’

Talking about Chameleon had at least cleared Hooker’s mind. Now his concern was dealing with O’Hara. ‘Perhaps another time,’ he said.

‘One last thing. Did Chameleon sabotage the Thoreau and the Aquila automobile?’

The general put his pipe aside and made a steeple of his fingers. He leaned forward, across his desk. ‘Mr O’Hara, I told you before, nobody in the business will discuss Chameleon. He’s a profit-terrorist. People are afraid of him. He’s vindictive. Most of my peers think that if they ignore him, he’ll ignore them. Talking about him gives his actions a certain legitimacy. Nobody wants to do that.’

‘No guts, no glory, General.’

‘Chameleon is an apocalypse.’

‘Were you warned about the Thoreau or the Aquila? I mean, was there extortion involved or was it simply sabotage?’

Hooker was becoming frustrated. he said sternly, ‘You can’t use any of this, young man, because none of it can be proven. The Thoreau lies in four hundred feet of Arctic sea. The Aquila’s back on the drawing board.’

‘He’s not going to stop, you know,’ O’Hara said. ‘He’s got a good thing going. Give me a deposition to the effect that you suspect Chameleon was responsible for just one of these accidents, and it will lend credence to the story. It would be a start. Get it out in the open. This guy feeds on secrecy.’

‘Mr O’Hara, do you know who Chameleon is? Where he lives, where he operates from? Anything about him at all”

‘Is he the same Chameleon who was on the list of war criminals in 1945?’ O’Hara asked.

Hooker tapped the ash out of his pipe and tamped down the remaining tobacco.

‘The man you refer to was killed at Hiroshima,’ he said. ‘His name was removed from the list in 1950.’