‘Don’t be a fool. Taggart wants it that way, and you’d better not annoy
him any more. Not only have you loused up his operation but you’ve
kil ed Philips, and for that he can have your hide. I have a message
from him – take the package to Reykjavik and al is forgiven.’
‘It must be real y important,’ I said, and checked my fingers. ‘Let’s
see – I’ve kil ed two men, damn near shot the leg off another, and maybe
fractured a couple of skul s -and Taggart says he can sweep al that
under the carpet?’
‘The Russkies and the Americans can take care of their own – they bury
their own dead, if any,’ said Case brutal y. ‘But Taggart – and only
Taggart – can clear you on our side. By kil ing Philips you set yourself
up as a legitimate target. Do as he says or he’l set the dogs on you.’
I remembered I had used a phrase like that when speaking to Taggart. I
said, ‘Where is Slade now?’
Case turned away from me and I heard the clink of glass against bottle.
‘I don’t know. When I left London Taggart was trying to contact him.’
‘So he could stil be in Iceland,’ I said slowly. ‘I don’t know that I
like that.’
Case whirled around. ‘What you like has ceased to matter. For God’s
sake, what’s got into you, Alan? /Look,/ it’s only a hundred kilometres
to Reykjavik; you can be there in two hours. Take the bloody package and
go.’
‘I have a better idea,’ I said. ‘You take it.’
He shook his head. ‘That’s not on. Taggart wants /me/ back in Spain.’
I laughed. ‘Jack, the easiest way to get to the International Airport at
Keflavik is through Reykjavik. You could drop off the package on the
way. What’s so important about me and the package together?’
He shrugged. ‘My instructions are that you take it. Don’t ask me why
because I don’t know.’
‘What’s in the package?’
‘I don’t know that either; and the way this operation is shaping I don’t
want to know.’
I said, ‘Jack, at one time I’d have cal ed you a friend. But you’ve just
tried to con me with this nonsense about being pulled back to Spain, and
I don’t believe a bloody word of it. But I do believe you when you say
you don’t know what’s going on. I don’t think anyone in this operation
knows what’s going on except, maybe, one man.’
Case nodded. ‘Taggart has his hands on the strings,’ he said. ‘Neither
you nor I need to know much in order to do the job.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of Taggart,’ I said. ‘I don’t think he knows what’s
going on either. He might think he does, but he doesn’t.’ I looked up.
‘I was thinking of Slade. This whole weird operation is warped to the
pattern of his mind. I’ve worked with him before and I know how he thinks.’
‘So we get back to Slade,’ said Case grimly. ‘You’re obsessed, Alan.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But you can make Taggart happy by tel ing him I’l
take his damned package to Reykjavik. Where do I deliver it?’
‘That’s better.’ Case looked down at my glass which had been held,
forgotten, in his hand. He gave it to me. ‘You know the Nordri Travel
Agency?’
‘I know it.’ It was the firm for which Elin had once ‘worked.
‘I don’t, but I’m told that as wel as running the agency they have a
big souvenir shop.’
‘You were told correctly.’
‘I have a piece of wrapping paper from the souvenir shop; it’s the
standard stuff they gift-wrap with. You have the package neatly wrapped
up. You walk in and go to the back of the shop where they sel the
woollen goods. A man wil be standing there carrying a copy of the /New
York Times,/ and under his arm wil be an identical package. You make
light conversation by saying, “It’s colder here than in the States,” to which he wil reply . . .’
‘”It’s even colder than Birmingham.” I’ve been through the routine before.’
‘All right; once there’s a mutual identification you put your package on
the counter, and so wil he. From then on it’s a simple exchange job.’
‘And when is this simple exchange job to take place?’
‘At midday tomorrow.’
‘Supposing I’m not there at midday tomorrow? For al I know there may be
a hundred Russians spaced out along that road at one kilometre intervals.’
‘There’l be a man in the shop every midday until you turn up,’ said Case.
‘Taggart has a touching faith in me,’ I said. ‘According to Slade the
Department is afflicted with a manpower shortage, and here is Taggart
being spendthrift. What happens if I don’t turn up for a year?’
Case didn’t smile. ‘Taggart brought up that problem. If you’re not there
within a week then someone wil come looking for you, and I’d regret
that because, in spite of that snide crack you made about friendship, I
stil love you, you sil y bastard.’
‘Smile when you say that, stranger.’
He grinned and sat down again. ‘Now let’s go through al this again,
right from the beginning – right from the time Slade came to see you in
Scotland.’
So I repeated my tale of woe again in great detail, with al the pros
and cons, and we talked for a long time. At the end of it Case said
seriously, ‘If you’re right and Slade has been got at then this is big
trouble.’
‘I don’t think he’s been got at,’ I said. ‘I think he’s been a Russian
agent al along. But there’s something else worrying me just as much as
Slade – where do the Americans fit in? It’s not like them to be cosy
with people like Kennikin.’
Case dismissed the Americans. ‘They’re just a problem of this particular
operation. Slade is different. He’s a big boy now and has a hand in
planning and policy. If he’s gone sour the whole department wil have to
be organized.’
He made a sudden sweeping motion with his hand. ‘Jesus, you’ve got me
going now! I’m actual y beginning to believe you. This is nonsense, Alan.’
I held out my empty glass. ‘I could do with a refil ? this is thirsty
work.’ As Case picked up the depleted bottle, I said, ‘Let me put it
this way. The question has been asked and, once asked, it can’t be
unasked. If you put my case against Slade to Taggart, just as I’ve put
it to you, then he’l be forced to take action. He can’t afford not to.
He’l have Slade under a microscope and I don’t think Slade can stand
close inspection.’
Case nodded. ‘There’s just one thing, Alan. Be sure -be very, very sure
– that your prejudices aren’t shouting too loud. I know why you left the
Department and I know why you hate Slade’s guts. You’re biased. This is
a serious accusation you’re making, and if Slade comes out of it cleaner
than the driven snow then you’re in big trouble. He’l demand your head
on a platter ? and he’l get it.’
‘He’l deserve it,’ I said. ‘But the problem won’t arise. He’s as guilty
as hel .’ I may have sounded confident but there was the nagging fear
that perhaps I was wrong. Case’s warning about bias and prejudice was
sound, and I hastily re-examined the indictment against Slade. I found
‘no flaw.
Case looked at his watch. ‘Eleven-thirty.’
I put down the whisky untasted. ‘It’s late – I’d better be going.’
‘I’l tel Taggart al about it,’ said Case. ‘And I’l also tel him
about Fleet and McCarthy. Maybe he can get a line on that angle through
Washington.’
I retrieved the /sgian dubh/ from the dressing-table and slipped it into
my stocking-top. ‘Jack, you real y haven’t any idea of what this
operation is al about?’
‘Not the faintest clue,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know anything about it until
I was pulled out of Spain. Taggart was angry, and justifiably so, in my
opinion. He said you refused to have anything to do with Slade, and you
wouldn’t even tel him where you were. He said you’d agree to meet me
here. All I am is a messenger boy, Alan.’
‘That’s what Slade told me I was,’ I said morosely. ‘I’m getting tired
of running blind; I’m getting tired of /running./ Maybe if I stood my
ground for once in a while I’d be better off.’
‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ said Case. ‘Just follow orders and get the
package to Reykjavik.’ He put on his jacket. ‘I’l walk with you to your
car. Where is it?’
‘Up the road.’
He was about to unlock the door when I said, ‘Jack, I don’t think you’ve
been entirely frank with me. You’ve dodged a couple of issues in this