‘… me setting you up,’ interrupted Charlie. ‘I want him with me, but taking as little part as I determine in the discussions I have. He’s just always got to be within ten yards.’
‘Ten yards?’ queried Braley, the inhaler held loosely in his hand, like a blackboard pointer.
‘From that range, I’m classified as an expert shot,’ said Charlie, simply. ‘I’d see an arrest coming, long before ten yards …’
He stared directly at Ruttgers.
‘… I shall draw a gun from the British embassy,’ he recorded. ‘And before any arrest, I’ll kill your man. And that would create an embarrassing international cause célèbre, wouldn’t it?’
‘This is preposterous!’ complained the American, going to Cuthbertson.
‘Yes,’ agreed the British Director, ‘it is, isn’t it? But after the misfortunes that have occurred so far, I can see Muffin’s point of view.’
‘You want constant involvement,’ contributed Wilberforce. ‘This is surely what’s being proposed?’
Another blocked alley, saw Ruttgers.
‘I want to make it quite clear,’ began Ruttgers, formally, ‘that a full account of this meeting will be sent to the Secretary of State, Willard Keys, for whatever use he might see fit to make of it in his discussions with the President about the forthcoming European visit. I’m sure he’ll find it sad that the special relationship between our two countries has reached such a point.’
‘I’m sure he will,’ picked up Cuthbertson, unafraid. ‘I hope his distress will be matched by that of the British cabinet when they have had the opportunity fully to study the transcript of the Kalenin conversation.’
This was very bad, realised Ruttgers. If the British pressed the point, Keys would abandon him, assuring the President he had no knowledge of the entrapment of Snare and Harrison. He could be brought down by this débâcle, realised the American.
‘I think we are allowing stupid, unwarranted animosity to cloud the point of this meeting,’ he attempted.
‘Which is to bring successfully to the West the most important Russian defector since 1945?’ lured Charlie.
Ruttgers nodded, suspiciously.
‘To a scenario which you don’t accept?’ said Braley, to help his superior.
‘Doesn’t it seem to you that, Harrison and Snare apart, the whole thing has gone just a little too easily?’ asked Charlie.
‘Yes,’ agreed Ruttgers, immediately. ‘But then again, how else could it have gone? Kalenin is in a unique position to manipulate circumstances to his own advantage and to behave in a manner that others would find impossible.’
‘So now you accept it’s genuine?’ said Wilberforce, head sunk deeply on his chest so that the words were difficult to hear.
‘I’m saying we …’ Ruttgers paused, remembering the rebuke, ‘… you,’ he corrected, ‘should make the Prague meeting.’
‘Have your analysts examined every report and transcript?’ asked Charlie.
‘Yes,’ said Braley, shortly.
‘To what conclusion?’ demanded Charlie.
‘Apprehension,’ accepted Ruttgers. ‘But not the outright doubt that you’re expressing, Charles.’
‘Charlie,’ stopped the Englishman.
Ruttgers frowned. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ demanded the American Director.
‘If you must use it, the Christian name is Charlie,’ he corrected.
Ruttgers looked in bewildered exasperation at Cuthbertson, who shrugged. Muffin was amazingly vindictive, decided Cuthbertson. Almost childishly so.
‘It just doesn’t feel right,’ swept on Charlie, enjoying his control of the meeting. They were all uncomfortable and confused, he saw, happily.
‘I know what you mean,’ said the American, staring at the peculiar Englishman. ‘But at this stage, we’ve got no choice but to go along with it.’
‘What about access to Snare?’ reminded Charlie, coming back to Cuthbertson.
‘Deferred,’ reported the permanently red-faced man. ‘Without any explanation.’
Charlie shook his head, unhappily, as if the delay confirmed his concern.
‘We can do nothing except follow Kalenin’s lead,’ stressed Braley, again taking his chief’s lead.
‘I believe Kalenin when he said he’s putting me under surveillance,’ said Charlie, opening a new course of discussion. ‘Even here, in London.’
Both Ruttgers and Cuthbertson frowned.
‘Have you been aware of it?’ asked Wilberforce.
‘No,’ said Charlie. ‘But if they were good, and they will be, then I wouldn’t know of it, would I?’
‘So?’ queried Ruttgers. He examined the Englishman with interest. He was a complete professional, thought the C.I.A. Director: the only one, apart from himself and Braley, in the room.
‘So we must wash the money.’
Ruttgers moved, uncomfortably, like a subordinate aware of an indiscretion in front of the managing director at a firm’s Christmas party.
‘Now wait a minute …’
‘… we can’t wait a minute,’ cut off Charlie. ‘If that money isn’t broken down, Kalenin will know about it. You heard the tape. He just won’t cross.’
‘What’ll that involve?’ asked Braley.
‘To do it sufficiently publicly?’ said Charlie, rhetorically. ‘I’d say about two weeks to cover London, the South of France and Austria. And that’s not allowing for any unforeseen difficulties.’
‘We did record the numbers,’ confessed Ruttgers. ‘And it took us nearly a week, even feeding into a computer.’
‘We’ll still be able to keep a check,’ said Charlie.
‘How?’ asked Ruttgers.
‘Knowing every number is the optimum. And unnecessary,’ Charlie lectured. ‘To trace the money, if you need to, we’d need just a sample. Braley and I could use a pocket assessor and feed in a section of the cleaned money.’
Ruttgers frowned, doubtfully.
‘And let’s face it, you’re being incredibly cautious,’ stressed Charlie. ‘At a conservative estimate, it’ll take two years completely to debrief Kalenin. And even then he’ll need and probably demand help with a new identity, place to live and permanent guards. We’ll be aware of his location for ten to fifteen years from now. The money is very unimportant, except to him.’
And to the American Congress, thought Ruttgers. But the Briton was talking complete common sense. It really didn’t matter and Keys would have to accept that ground conditions made the change necessary. Equated against the amount of money the C.I.A. spent yearly, sometimes on madcap projects, this investment was infinitesimal, anyway. Ruttgers nodded acceptance, shifting from the window.
The man found it difficult to remain in any one position, thought Charlie, watching Ruttgers settle into the chair he had already quit four times during the course of the meeting.
Like Charlie, Ruttgers felt there was something indefinably wrong about the whole thing. But he did have what he wanted, a man involved from this moment in every aspect of the crossing, the American Director reassured himself.
‘Right,’ he accepted. ‘We’ll do what you suggest and hope it’s right.’
‘That’s the trouble,’ seized Charlie. ‘None of us knows whether we’re right or not. And we won’t for three weeks.’
Berenkov looked a caricature of the man he had once been, thought Charlie. The Russian edged almost apprehensively into the room, all exuberance gone, standing just inside the door and staring at his visitor, awaiting permission to advance further.
The man’s skin looked oily, but flaking, as if he were suffering from some kind of dermatitis and there was a curtain of disinterest over his eyes. He shuffled rather than walked, scarcely lifting his feet and when he spoke it was in the prison fashion, his lips unmoving.