Quiller's Run

I twisted from under him and lurched to the line of handbasins and span a tap, wrenching at it until it gushed, then bowed my head and drank like a beast at a waterhole.

27 Pink Panties

A lot of noise. 'Keep them away.' Not loud noise, but a lot, voices, feet shuffling, the ring of metal.

'But I have to know -'

'Keep everyone else away, for your own sake.'

Sounded like Pepperidge.

They'd put the lights on, too bright, half-blinding me, I was lying on my back.

'All right,' someone said, 'you can dress it.'

My hand was burning. She was a Chinese, the nurse, her eyes intent.

'Just take my word for it. I know what I'm doing and I know what's best for you, for the clinic, believe me.'

Pepperidge, yes. Someone had come in while I was still at the waterhole and I'd told him to phone this number, nothing is the matter, just go and phone him now and tell him to come here, my name is Jordan, for Christ's sake don't just stand there, go and phone.

'Don't move, please,' the nurse said. Her young face was puckered, queasy, I turned my head, remembering, and saw him lying there, Kishnar, my brother in blood, in blood indeed, it was everywhere.

'But we've got to call the police, don't you understand? There's been -'

'Call them by all means, then, and you'll see the whole story spread all over the front page of the Times in the morning. Or don't call the police and I can guarantee you a complete cover-up. Your choice.'

I could see the face of the clinic's chief of administation, Culver, met him when I signed in. Looking a bit upset, understandably: they were used to the odd suicide here, but this was different.

'If you could convince me of your authority -'

'Look, go and ring the British High Commissioner – he'll give you the score. But meanwhile don't let anyone into this area.'

Head ached a bit. I'd hit it on something when we'd been jigging around.

'What's this?' someone said.

'Let me have it.' Pepperidge, sharply.

The piano wire, covered at each end with rubber tubing. He coiled it and put it into his pocket.

'Is painful?'

'What?'

'Is hand painful?' The nurse.

'No.'

'Pain anywhere?"

'No. You're very pretty.'

'Oh.' Surprise, her mouth rounded, then a smile that shone right into my soul. It'd been a nervy twenty-four hours, from the time last night when I'd known what I would have to do. Then there was all this mess in here, most unpleasant.

'You all right?'

Pepperidge, stooping suddenly over me.

'Yes.'

'Won't be long now. There's an ambulance on its way.'

'I don't need one. I can -'

'Yes you do.' He straightened up again. 'Keep that door shut!'

Throbbing going on: there was some feeling coming back into the right forearm where he'd held the wire; the left thigh felt twice the size because he'd driven his knee into it just before we'd got it over with; left hand sliced somewhat from gripping the shard of glass: the medic had put some stitches in. There was a residue of shock in the system but I could probably walk all right and Pepperidge knew that; the ambulance was for security. The hit team knew that Kishnar had come into the clinic for me and they'd expect me to go out on a stretcher and that was what Pepperidge had arranged: he didn't want the team to take up station; we needed a new safe-house and we had to reach there clean.

Someone knocking.

Pepperidge opened the door an inch and looked through the gap and then pulled it wide open.

'All right – this man here.'

On the way to the street I had a sheet over me, face as well. Lights glowed through it, coming and going.

'Hot under there, old boy, but it won't be long. You all right?'

Said yes.

In the ambulance he pulled the sheet away, hunched alongside on the tip-up seat. There wasn't anyone else in here. Under the dim pilot light he looked strained, his yellow eyes flickering sometimes.

'Thirsty?'

'Yes.'

He gave me a plastic cup of chilled water.

'I couldn't stand the waiting,' I said, when I'd finished it.

'The what?'

'The waiting.'

He thought about it. 'Oh. For Kishnar.'

'Yes. It was a question of time before he found me, so I thought the best thing to do was to get it over.'

'Was that your only reason?'

'No. I thought it'd get Shoda to the edge.'

'Hit her again on her weak point.'

'Yes.'

'You're right, of course. It could bring us the whole mission. This was major. You didn't only get Kishnar out of the way as a constant threat, but you actually turned him to good use as a tool. As a weapon. Could be the turning point.'

I started to pull my shoulders higher against the pillows but he stopped me.

'Relax. You're going to need your strength later.'

He didn't say why and I didn't think to ask.

'The thing is,' I told him, 'I had to bring him into the clinic.'

'I know.'

Of course he knew. If I'd gone into the streets at night and waited for Kishnar and taken him on and killed him the hit team would have closed in at once, finis.

'I owe you an apology,' I told him.

'For what?'

'Blowing the safe-house, keeping you in the dark,'

'Ah.' He looked away and I couldn't see his eyes, their expression; then he swung his head back and put his hand on my shoulder. 'Don't worry, old boy. I knew you were going to do exactly that.'

'Bit fancy,' he said, 'I'm afraid.'

We were in the main room, a big one, Victorian decor, faded red plush and gilt candlesticks, tapestries, a couple of dozen small round ironwork tables and chairs, bit of a stage or a dance-floor, the light coming from rose-shaded lamps, a smell of stale scent.

'This? I said.

'Don't worry, old boy. Everything's taken care of. Why don't we sit down for a bit?'

'What is it, a night-club?'

'It was. The owner couldn't afford to do it up to conform with the new fire laws, put a sprinkler system in and so on, so it's temporarily closed.' A faint smile. 'We're renting it now. How d'you feel?'

'Bit depressed.' I dropped onto a red velvet couch.

'Kishnar?'

'Yes.'

He nodded, clasping his thin hands together, looking down. 'Post mortem animal triste est.'

I didn't think it was funny. I know the bastard had been after my blood and I know his orders were to sever my head and take it to Shoda – do you know we found an empty cardboard box in that toilet, did I tell you, with a plastic bag inside? – and I know he wouldn't have given it another thought, I'd have been just another job done, another stiff shoved under the rug, but all the same I'd killed a man and it always slowed me up, made me wonder what kind of life I'd got into.

'When did you fix this up?' I asked Pepperidge.

'This place?'

I didn't answer; he knew I meant this place, he was giving himself time. He'd been a bit odd since the lav thing, looking down sometimes, looking away, clasping his hands for something to focus on. It wasn't because of what I'd done to Kishnar, I knew that – he was too seasoned, he'd worked in the field for years.