“And in spite of everything,” the Frenchman said, “you were still lying in wait for me the whole time, laughing to yourself no doubt. You’re still a magician, mon ami.”
“Johnny Wareagle’s the magician, Henri. I rely on more traditional aids. Like a harbormaster named Abner who saw you make off with the skiff. He gave me a call.”
“Ah, knows what to look for, does he?”
“He certainly does.” After both of them had shared a smile, Blaine added, “You enjoyed yourself tonight, didn’t you?”
Dejourner smiled fondly. “I miss the old days. When was it we met, Vietnam in ’70 or ’71?”
“ ’Seventy on the crisscross. I was on my way in and you were on your way out. And it wasn’t Nam, it was Cambodia.”
“Forgive me.”
“For that, of course. For tonight, I’m not so sure.”
“Blaine?”
“Who were you testing tonight, Henri, you or me?”
“There would be no reason to test you, mon ami. I have kept tabs.”
“Then you should have known that the last party that showed up on my doorstep unannounced went swimming.”
“You gave him a life jacket, of course.”
“Sure. I made sure his seatbelt was fastened before I made him drive his car into the bay. About a month ago I think it was. Figured he might be coming back for a second dunking. Abner keeps an eye out for me.”
“You haven’t changed, mon ami. That’s good.”
“The fact is I wouldn’t have needed Abner a few years ago or these damn security systems either. I’m slipping. My last few missions haven’t gone too well. I think I came here to hide out for the winter. Now I’ll probably go somewhere else.”
Dejourner waved him off. “You’ve never looked better.”
“But I’m starting to have to work too hard at it. Gotta run faster and faster just to stay in the same place.”
Dejourner was nodding. “As I recall, you spent five miserable years quite literally in the same place.”
“No offense, Henri, but I learned to hate your country during those years.”
“No offense taken.”
“You made that time bearable. I was stuck sorting paperclips, but you saw fit to throw some real work my way. It’s too bad our countries weren’t enemies; we could have exchanged prisoners.”
“With intelligence communities, enemies would be an accurate description. I was able to convince my superiors to let me use you only after persuading them it would make their American counterparts look bad. Such a rat race! You are lucky to be out of it.”
“And you?”
“Still a rat, I’m afraid.” Dejourner shrugged.
“Listen, I meant what I said about what you did for me back then, Henri,” Blaine said. “I owe you. I don’t forget my debts.”
Dejourner grasped his meaning and waved his hands dramatically before him. “Non, mon ami. I have not come here to request one of your famous favors.”
“Well, you sure as hell didn’t fly across the ocean to play a game more fit for recruits many years younger than us.”
“Please, Blaine, this is not easy for me. There is something I must tell you and I don’t know how. I spent the flight over rehearsing a dozen speeches. None of them worked.”
“Why don’t you try number thirteen on me now?”
“It’s not that simple. As many times as I rehearsed, I almost decided to just take the next flight home. I’m not sure I have any business being here. I’m not sure I have any business bringing you this news.”
“We’re friends, Henri. Friends always have business doing whatever they want.”
Dejourner grimaced as if the words bottled up inside him were causing genuine pain. “You recall a British woman named Lauren Ericson? You met her—”
“In London thirteen years ago. Let’s see, that would have made me twenty-seven: five years out of Nam and four operating in the same theater as you. Things were less complicated then.”
“The woman, what do you remember of her?”
“A knockout. Thought she was a model at first but she turned out to be a doctor, studying to be an orthopedic surgeon, as I recall. I was working with the British rounding up Al-Fatah operatives. We were on speaking terms then.”
“Pre-McCrackenballs …”
“Yes. Lauren and I were an item for three months or so and then she broke it off. That’s always the way it is for me.”
“Did she tell you why she broke it off?”
“She told me the same thing I’ve heard over and over again: I was a lot more fun to be with before she learned everything about me because she knew everything wasn’t all and she didn’t want to know it all. In a nutshell. My turn now, Henri. Where is this leading?”
“She died two months ago.”
Blaine wanted to feel grief but found it hard to muster any for someone he hadn’t seen in thirteen years.
“You haven’t come here to inform me I was mentioned in her will.”
“In a sense I have, mon ami. Lauren Ericson is survived by a son. He’s yours.”
Chapter 2
The news hit McCracken like a hammer blow, knocking the breath hard out of him.
Dejourner had a memo pad out and was reading from it. “The boy’s name is Matthew. He’s three months past twelve and is enrolled in the third form at the Reading School in Reading, England. He is at present a boarder at the school after having lived the rest of his life in the village of Hambleden twenty-five minutes away.”
“How did Lauren die?”
“Traffic accident.”
“Does the boy …”
“No, mon ami. He has no knowledge of you. Lauren told him his father deserted them.”
“Then he does have some knowledge of me.”
The Frenchman eyed him sternly. “Your shoulders are still broad, Blaine, but don’t expect too much of them. She made the choice for reasons you understand as well as I. As near as I can figure, she broke off the relationship when she learned she was pregnant.”
“Because she felt no father was better than—”
“One who could never be happy living a normal life …”
“A sane life, you mean.”
“Call it what you will, but she knew it wasn’t for you. A child was the last thing you needed, and she understood that enough to do what she felt was right.”
“There’s more.”
“There always is. The practical side — and Lauren was a practical woman. If you knew of the boy’s existence, then so might your enemies. Once she elected to have the child, Lauren could not permit that. So the gesture probably was not aimed so much at you, as what you had given her.”
“Given her?” Blaine rose from his chair, strode to the window, and stared out at the nearby waters as he spoke. “We ate lots of dinners, saw lots of shows, and had plenty of fun. I didn’t mean to give her any more than I took.”
“Apparently the child changed things.”
Blaine swung around. “I think she mainly wanted a child, and there I was, ready and willing.” He smiled ruefully at his reflection in the glass, observing the scar which ran through his left eyebrow and his eyes that were blacker than the night. “Hope the kid got her looks anyway.”
“He did.”
“You’ve seen him?”
“I … checked up on him at the school, made the proper arrangements for his boarding and the like.”
Blaine closed the gap between them and watched the Frenchman’s eyes waver. “Wait a minute, Henri. Suddenly I’m getting the feeling that your stake in this is deeper than you’d have me think.”