Noble House

"No leisure," Dunross said sharply. "The money's urgent, and the release is clearly considered urgent. We can't delay past Monday at 10:00 A.M. when the ban—"
"Perhaps Tiptop and money don't come into the equation at all," Sinders interrupted, his voice deliberately brittle. "It doesn't matter a jot or a tittle to SI or MI-6 if all Hong Kong rots. Have you any idea the sort of value a senior superintendent in SI—especially a man with Brian Kwok's qualifications and experience—could have to the enemy, if in fact Brian Kwok is under arrest as you think and this Tiptop claims? Have you also considered that such an enemy traitor's information to us about his contacts and them could be of great importance to the whole realm? Eh?"
"Is that your answer?"
"Did Mrs. Gresserhoff hand-deliver the package?"
"Are you prepared to barter?"
Crosse said irritably, "Who's Gresserhoff?"
"I don't know," Sinders told him. "Other than that she's the vanished recipient of the second phone call from AMG's assistant,
Kiernan. We're tracing her with the help of the Swiss police." His mouth smiled at Dunross. "Mrs. Gresserhoff delivered the package to you?"
"No," Dunross said. That's not a real lie, he assured himself. It was Riko Anjin.
"Who did?"
"I'm prepared to tell you that after we have concluded our deal."
"No deal," Crosse said.
Dunross began to get up.
"Just a moment, Roger," Sinders said and Dunross sat back. The MI-6 man tapped the pipe stem against his tobacco-discolored teeth. Dunross kept his face guileless, knowing he was in the hands of experts.
At length Sinders said, "Mr. Dunross, are you prepared to swear formally under the perjury conditions of the Official Secrets Act that you do not have possession of the original AMG files?"
"Yes," Dunross said at once, quite prepared to twist the truth now—AMG had always had the originals, he had always been sent the top copy. If and when it came to a formal moment under oath, that would be another matter entirely. "Next?"
"Monday would be impossible."
Dunross kept his eyes on Sinders. "Impossible because Brian's being interrogated?"
"Any captured enemy asset would immediately be questioned, of course."
"And Brian will be a very hard nut to take apart."
"If he's the asset, you'd know that better than us. You've been friends a long time."
"Yes, and I swear to God I still think it's impossible. Never once has Brian been anything other than an upright, staunch British policeman. How is it possible?"
"How were Philby, Klaus Fuchs, Sorge, Rudolf Abel, Blake and all the others possible?"
"How long would you need?"
Sinders shrugged, watching him.
Dunross watched him back. The silence became aching.
"You destroyed the originals?"
"No, and I must tell you I also noticed the difference between all the copies I gave you and the one you intercepted. I'd planned to call AMG to ask him why the difference."
"How often were you in contact with him?"
"Once or twice a year."
"What did you know about him? Who suggested him to you?"
"Mr. Sinders, I'm quite prepared to answer your questions, I realize it's my duty to answer them, but the time's not appropriate tonight be—"
"Perhaps it is, Mr. Dunross. We're in no rush."
"Ah, I agree. But unfortunately I've got guests waiting and my association with AMG has nothing to do with my proposal. My proposal requires a simple yes or no."
"Or a maybe."
Dunross studied him. "Or a maybe."
"I'll consider what you've said."
Dunross smiled to himself, liking the cat-and-mouse of the negotiation, aware he was dealing with masters. Again he let the silence hang until exactly the right moment. "Very well. AMG said at my discretion. At the moment I don't know what 'it' is. I realize I'm quite out of my depth and should not be involved in SI or MI-6 matters. It's not of my choosing. You intercepted my private mail. My understanding with AMG was quite clear: I had his assurance in writing that he was allowed to be in my employ and that he would clear everything with the government in advance. I'll give you copies of our correspondence if you wish, through the correct channels, with the correct secrecy provisions. My enthusiasm for my offer diminishes, minute by minute." He hardened his voice. "Perhaps it doesn't matter to SI or MI-6 if all Hong Kong rots but it does to me, so I'm making the offer a last time." He got up. "The offer's good to 8:30 P.M."
Neither of the other men moved. "Why 8:30, Mr. Dunross? Why not midnight or midday tomorrow?" Sinders asked, unperturbed. He continued to puff his pipe but Dunross noticed that the tempo had been interrupted the moment he laid down the challenge. That's a good sign, he thought.
"I have to call Tiptop then. Thanks for seeing me." Dunross turned for the door.
Crosse, sitting behind the desk, glanced at Sinders. The older man nodded. Obediently Crosse touched the switch. The bolts sneaked back silently. Dunross jerked to a stop, startled, but recovered quickly, opened the door and went out without a comment, closing it after him.
"Cool bugger," Crosse said, admiring him.
"Too cool."
"Not too cool. He's tai-pan of the Noble House."
"And a liar, but a clever one and quite prepared to finesse us. Would he obliterate 'it'?"
"Yes. But I don't know if H hour's 8:30 P.M." Crosse lit a cigarette. "I'm inclined to think it is. They'd put immense pressure on him—they have to presume we'd thrust the client into interrogation. They've had plenty of time to study Soviet techniques and they've got a few twists of their own. They must presume we're fairly efficient too."
"I'm inclined to think he hasn't got any more files and 'it' is genuine. If 'it' comes from AMG it must have special value. What's your counsel?"
"I repeat what I said to the governor: If we have possession of the client until Monday at noon we'll have everything of importance out of him."
"But what about them? What can he tell them about us when he recovers?"
"We know most of that now. Concerning Hong Kong, we can certainly cover every security problem from today. It's standard SI policy never to let any one person know master plans an—"
"Except you."
Crosse smiled. "Except me. And you in the UK of course. The client knows a lot, but not everything. We can cover everything here, change codes and so on. Don't forget, most of what he passed on's routine. His real danger's over. He's uncovered, fortunately in time. Sure as God made little apples, he'd've been the first Chinese commissioner, and probably head of SI en route. That would have been catastrophic. We can't recover the private dossiers, Fong-fong and others, or the riot and counterinsurrection plans. A riot is a riot and there are only so many contingency plans. As to Sevrin, he knows no more than we knew before we caught him. Perhaps the 'it' could provide keys, possibly keys to questions we should put to him."
"That occurred to me instantly too. As I said, Mr. Dunross is too bloody cool." Sinders lit another match, smoked the match a mo-ment, then tamped the used-up tobacco. "You believe him?"
"About the files, I don't know. I certainly believe he has an 'it' and that AMG came back from the dead. Sorry I never met him. Yes. The 'it' could easily be more important than this client—after Monday at noon. He's mostly a husk now."
Since they had returned, the interrogation of Brian Kwok had continued, most of it rambling and incoherent but details here and there of value. More about atomics and names and addresses of contacts in Hong Kong and Canton, security risks here and patterns of information about the Royal Mounted Police, along with an immensely interesting reiteration of vast Soviet infiltration into Canada.