throw stones; it had been my work too, once. But the difference between
us was that Slade liked his work.
I let him waffle on, driving home the point unnecessarily. ‘Kennikin
runs a very efficient /Mordgruppe,/ as we know to our cost, don’t we?
Several members of the Department have been . . . er . . . terminated by
Kennikin’s men.’
‘Why don’t you just say murdered?’
He frowned and his piggy eyes sank deeper into the rolls of fat that
larded his face. ‘You always were blunt, Stewart; perhaps too blunt for
your own good. I haven’t forgotten the time you tried to get me in
trouble with Taggart. I remember you mentioned that word then.’
‘I’l mention it again,’ I said. ‘You murdered Jimmy Birkby.’
‘Did I?’ Slade asked softly. ‘Who put the gelignite in his car? Who
careful y connected the wire from the detonator to the ignition system?
You did!’ He cut me off with a chopping motion of his hand. ‘And it was
only that which got you next to Kennikin, only that induced Kennikin to
trust you enough so that we could break him. You did very wel , Stewart
– al things considered.’
‘Yes, you used me,’ I said.
‘And I’l use you again,’ he said brutal y. ‘Or would you rather be
thrown to Kennikin?’ He laughed suddenly. ‘You know, I don’t think
Kennikin gives a damn if you’re with the Department or not. He wants you
for your own sweet self.’
I stared at him. ‘And what do you mean by that?’
‘Didn’t you know that Kennikin is impotent now?’ Slade said in surprise.
‘I know you intended to kil him with that last shot, but the light was
bad and you thought you’d merely wounded him. Indeed you had, but not
merely -you castrated the poor man.’ His hands, which were folded across
his bel y, shook with his sniggers. ‘To put it crudely – or bluntly, if
you like, dear boy ? you shot his bal s off. Can you imagine what he’l
do to you if- and when – when he catches up with you?’
I felt cold and there was a yawning emptiness in the pit of my stomach.
‘There’s only one way of opting out of the world and that’s by dying,’
said Slade with phoney philosophy. ‘You tried your way and it doesn’t work.’
He was right; I shouldn’t have expected otherwise. ‘What it comes to is
this,’ I said. ‘You want me to do a job. If I don’t do it, you’l tip
off the opposition and the opposition wil knock me off ? and your hands
wil be theoretical y clean.’
‘Very succinctly put,’ said Slade. ‘You always did write good, clear
reports.’ He sounded like a schoolmaster complimenting a boy on a good
essay.
‘What’s the job?’
‘Now you’re being sensible,’ he said approvingly. He produced a sheet of
paper and consulted it. ‘We know you are in the habit of taking an
annual holiday in Iceland.’ He looked up. ‘Stil sticking to your
northern heritage, I see. You couldn’t very wel go back to Sweden ? and
Finland would be even more risky. Too close to the Russian border for
comfort.’ He spread his hands. ‘But who goes to Iceland?’
‘So the job is in Iceland?’
‘Indeed it is.’ He tapped the paper with his fingernail. ‘You take long
holidays – three and four months at a time. What it is to have a private
income ? the Department did very wel by you.’
‘The Department gave me nothing that wasn’t mine,’ I said shortly.
He ignored that. ‘I note you’ve been doing very wel for yourself in
Iceland. All the home comforts down to a lovenest. A young lady, I
believe, is . . .”
‘We’l leave her out of it.’
‘Just the point I’m making, dear boy. It would be most unwise if she
became involved. It could be most dangerous for her, don’t you think? I
wouldn’t tel her anything about it.’ His voice was kindly.
Slade had certainly done his homework. If he knew about Elin then he
must have tapped me a long time before. All the time I thought I was in
cover I’d been under a microscope.
‘Come to the job.’
‘You wil col ect a package at Keflavik International Airport.’ He
sketched dimensions with his hands. ‘About eight inches by four inches
by two inches. You wil deliver it to a man in Akureyri – you know where
that is?’
‘I know,’ I said, and waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. ‘That’s
al ?’ I asked.
“That’s al ; I’m sure you wil be able to accomplish it quite easily.’
I stared at him incredulously. ‘Have you gone through al this rigmarole
of blackmail just to give me a messenger boy’s job?’
‘I wish you wouldn’t use such crude language,’ he said peevishly. ‘It’s
a job suitable for one who is out of practice, such as yourself. It’s
important enough and you were to hand, so we’re using you.’
‘This is something that’s blown up quite quickly, isn’t it?’ I hazarded.
‘You’re forced to use me.’
Slade waggled his hand. ‘We’re a bit stretched for manpower, that’s al .
Don’t get delusions of grandeur – in using you I’m scraping the bottom
of the barrel.’
Slade could be blunt enough when it suited his purpose. I shrugged, and
said, ‘Who is the man in Akureyri?’
‘He’l make himself known.’ Slade took a slip of paper from his wal et
and tore it jaggedly across. One piece he passed to me and it proved to
be half of a 100-kronur banknote. ‘He’l have the other half. Old ways
are best, don’t you think? Effective and uncomplicated.’
I looked at the ruined Icelandic currency in my hand and said
ironical y, ‘I don’t suppose I’l be paid for this enterprise?’
‘Of course you wil , dear boy. Her Majesty’s Government is never
niggardly when it comes to valuable services rendered. Shal we say two
hundred pounds?’
‘Send it to Oxfam, you bastard.’
He shook his head deprecatingly. ‘Such language – but I shal do as you
say. You may depend on it.’
I studied Slade and he looked back at me with eyes as candid as those of
a baby. I didn’t like the smel of this operation – it sounded too
damned phoney. It occurred to me that perhaps he was setting up a
training exercise with me as the guinea pig. The Department frequently
ran games of that sort to train the new boys, but al the participants
usual y knew the score. If Slade was ringing me into a training scheme
without tel ing me I’d strangle the sadistic bastard.
To test him, I said, ‘Slade, if you’re using me as the footbal in a
training game it could be dangerous. You could lose some of your budding
spies that way.’
He looked shocked. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that to you.’
‘All right; what do I do if someone tries to take the package?’
‘Stop him,’ he said succinctly.
‘At any cost?’
He smiled. ‘You mean – should you kil ? Do it any way you want. Just
deliver the package to Akureyri.’ His paunch shook with amusement.
‘Kil er Stewart!’ he mocked gently. ‘Wel , wel !’
I nodded. ‘I just wanted to know. I’d hate”To make your manpower
problems more difficult. After Akureyri ? what happens then?’
‘Then you may go on your way rejoicing. Complete your holiday. Enjoy the
company of your lady friend. Feel free as air.’
‘Until the next time you drop by.’
‘That is a highly unlikely eventuality,’ said Slade decisively. ‘The
world has passed you by. Things are not the same in the Department as
they were – techniques are different – many changes you would not
understand. You would be quite useless, Stewart, in any real work; but
this job is simple and you’re just a messenger boy.’ He looked around
the room a little disdainfully. ‘No, you may come back here and
rusticate peaceful y.’
‘And Kennikin?’
‘Ah, I make no promises there. He may find you – he may not; but if he
does it wil not be because of my doing, I assure you.’
‘That’s not good enough,’ I said. ‘You’l tel him I haven’t been a
member of the Department for four years?’
‘I may,’ he said carelessly. ‘I may.’ He stood and buttoned his coat.
‘Of course, whether he would believe it is one thing, and whether it
would make any difference is yet another. He has his own, strictly
unprofessional, reasons for wanting to find you, and I’m inclined to
think that he’l want to operate on you with a sharp knife rather than
to ask you to share his bottle of Calvados.’
He picked up his hat and moved over to the door, ‘You wil receive
further instructions about picking up the package before you leave. It’s