Shaw finished a roll and politely Thixey tried to press him to another. He refused.
“Quite sure, old man?” Thixey was solicitous.
“Absolutely certain, thank you,” Shaw felt a strong desire to laugh; the country-house atmosphere was too ridiculous. He stirred his coffee.
“Smoke?”
“Thank you…"
Thixey held out a gold case. Shaw took a Sobrania Virginia. Thixey flicked a lighter; smoke drifted up from his own cigarette, widened into an early sunbeam coming through the tall, elegant window where Moss stood. The girl was still watching Shaw, looking at him now over the rim of her cup as, somewhat noisily, she drank tea. Rudolf Rencke was in the background, just sitting quietly and looking his pasty, unhealthy self. Thixey smiled and asked, “Surprised to see me, old man?”
Shaw gave a hard laugh. “Simply to say yes seems a totally inadequate answer — old man.”
Thixey grinned and leaned back in his chair. He glanced across at the American, Horn, who was still by the door and holding the silenced revolver aimed between Shaw’s shoulder-blades. Breakfast wasn’t really quite the happy, carefree party Thixey was trying to make it seem — the gun spoilt the atmosphere. Moss, too, was keeping a hand loosely inside his double-breasted jacket, ready to reach into the shoulder-holster that showed as a slight bulge in the cloth. Thixey said, “Yes, I quite understand, of course. It must seem awfully odd to you. Don’t be shy in front of my friends,” he added. “They know who I am and what my job is. My British job, I’m referring to.”
“What about your other job, Thixey, the one that fits with all this?” Shaw waved a hand around the room, taking in the company. “How did you get hitched up with a man like Rencke?”
Thixey laughed. “Not so fast, my dear chap! All will become crystal clear in due course—”
“What are they paying you for this, Thixey? Or have they got a file on you, held somewhere safe… complete with compromising photographs, perhaps?”
Thixey didn’t like that; his mouth thinned for a moment, then he relaxed again and smiled. “My dear old man, there’s nothing like that at all! I assure you, I never get myself into compromising situations of that sort. I’m here of my own free will entirely, and—”
“What do you want with me?”
“That’s what I’m coming to if you’ll give me a chance. Mossy, a little more coffee, please.” Thixey held out his cup; Moss came away from the window, took the cup and refilled it. Thixey drank a little, then went on. “There’s one thing I must tell you. I know your reputation, Shaw — I know you’ve got yourself out of extremely tricky situations before now. At the moment you’ve got one thing in your mind, and that is, to find out all you can from me and then get away in one piece so you can pass it on to Whitehall. That’s your form, isn’t it? This time, if I were you, I wouldn’t even begin to reckon the odds because, believe me, they’re all against you. For a start, if you try anything now, our friends with the guns will rip you apart before you’ve moved out of your chair. And I’m as ready to shoot as they are. Next: you can’t get out of the cellar once we put you back in. If you even try to, an alarm system blasts off where one of us can hear it twenty-four hours a day. So be reasonable. We don’t want to have to kill you, old man, but I do want you to understand that if we have to, we will, without any hesitation whatsoever.”
“We, Thixey?” Shaw looked into the man’s eyes. “Just who do you mean when you say ‘we’? And what have ‘we’ planned for Skyprobe IV, Thixey?”
There was an immediate reaction from the others. The girl’s eyes went blank and she looked down quickly at her cup. Moss’s body jerked and the hand went deeper into the jacket, looking as if it were about to come out with the gun, like a lucky dip. Behind Shaw, the American could be heard sucking in a long, whistling breath. Rencke’s heavy square face, suffusing, lost its pastiness and his fists clenched on the table. Only Thixey remained completely unmoved and at ease, his long, well-kept fingers carrying the Sobranie to his lips and his eyes sardonic, amused, even mischievous beneath the fine head of hair. He asked casually, “What do you know about Skyprobe IV, old man?”
Shaw said, “I asked you the question first, Thixey.'”
The girl came to life then. She said sharply, “Watch out. He’s on to something, Hilary.” The accent was Australian — Sydney, Shaw fancied.
“Nonsense, Beatty!” Thixey gave a light laugh, a laugh of amusement, and once again brushed his cuff with his hand. “We know he met Spalinski, after all.” He paused, drew on his cigarette deeply, filling his lungs and then letting the smoke drift out in twin streams through his nostrils. “We think perhaps you’ll tell us exactly how much Spalinski was able to pass on to you. Are you going to do that, old man?”
Shaw said briefly, “It’s not very likely, is it?”
“You may change your mind, you know.”
“We’ll see about that. Is this why you had me brought here, Thixey?”
“Partly, yes. Naturally, we had to get hold of you once you’d met Spalinski — if it hadn’t been for that, old man, we probably wouldn’t have bothered with you, as a matter of fact — but there are certain other things we’d rather like to know before we put our plans into effect. Just because you happen to be here, you know.” Thixey flicked ash off his cigarette. “We’d like to know what Spalinski told you, and what you’ve passed to your chief and Washington — and what action is being taken on it. If you wonder why I can’t find that out for myself through my official position, the answer is that I’m currently enjoying a well-earned long leave overseas and can’t be got at. That being the case, to contact my office or my colleagues just now would look a trifle curious, and would undoubtedly lead to all kinds of awkward questions being asked.”
Shaw said, “I see. Well — Spalinski didn’t, in fact, tell me anything, so you’re dead unlucky, Thixey. Your man got him before he could talk.” He looked across at Rencke. “It was you, wasn’t it, Rencke?”
Rencke smiled; his eyes held a look of warmth. “Yes,” he said. “I killed Spalinski.”
“Fetters, too?”
“Yes, also Fetters.” He looked and sounded happy about it. Quite clearly, the act of killing gave him pleasure for its own sake.
Thixey said, “Rencke’s terribly efficient, you know.” There was an odd note in his voice. “Now tell me, Shaw: what exactly did Spalinski say? Come on, old man — you can tell us that! Spalinski’s dead already, and you’ll save yourself an immense amount of trouble if you accept the inevitable.”
Shaw said steadily, “All he told me was what I’ve indicated by inference already — that Skyprobe IV was under threat. And if I were you, Thixey, I’d get out from under very fast indeed, because if anything does happen to the capsule, it means war. You can take that as definite.”
“We’ll skip the good advice, old man, if you don’t mind. Is that really all Spalinski said?”
“Yes, that’s all.”
“I wonder, old man — I wonder if it was!” Thixey stared at him thoughtfully. “You know… it’s rather important we establish whether or not you’re telling the truth. You see, somehow or other Spalinski had got hold of the whole story—”