Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy by John le Carré

‘Left here and left again at the dower house. Go as far as you can but park short of the gates.’

They reached what seemed to be a hamlet but there were no lights, no people and no moon. As they got out the cold hit them and Guillam smelt a cricket field and woodsmoke and Christmas all at once; he thought he had never been anywhere so quiet or so cold or so remote. A church tower rose ahead of them, a white fence ran to one side, and up on the slope stood what he took to be the rectory, a low rambling house, part thatched; he could make out the fringe of gable against the sky. Fawn was waiting for them; he came to the car as they parked, and climbed silently into the back.

‘Ricki’s been that much better today, sir,’ he reported. He had evidently done a lot of reporting to Smiley in the last few days. He was a steady, soft-spoken boy with a great will to please, but the rest of the Brixton pack seemed to be afraid of him, Guillam didn’t know why. ‘Not so nervy, more relaxed I’d say. Did his pools this morning, loves the pools Ricki does, this afternoon we dug up fir trees for Miss Ailsa, so’s she could drive them into market. This evening we had a nice game of cards and early bed.’

‘Has he been out alone?’ asked Smiley.

‘No, sir.’

‘Has he used the telephone?’

‘Gracious no, sir, not while I’m around, and I’m sure not while Miss Ailsa was either.’

Their breath had misted the windows of the car, but Smiley would not have the engine on so there was no heater and no de-mister.

‘Has he mentioned his daughter Danny?’

‘Over the weekend he did a lot. Now he’s sort of cooled off about them. I think he’s shut them out of his mind in view of the emotional side.’

‘He hasn’t talked about seeing them again?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Nothing about arrangements for meeting when all this is over?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Or bringing them to England?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Nor about providing them with documents?’

‘No, sir.’

Guillam chimed in irritably: ‘So what has he talked about, for heaven’s sake?’

‘The Russian lady, sir. Irina. He likes to read her diary. He says when the mole’s caught, he’s going to make Centre swap him for Irina. Then we’ll get her a nice place, sir, like Miss Ailsa’s but up in Scotland where it’s nicer. He says he’ll see me right, too. Give me a big job in the Circus. He’s been encouraging me to learn another language to increase my scope.’

There was no telling, from the flat voice behind them in the dark, what Fawn made of this advice.

‘Where is he now?’

‘In bed, sir.’

‘Close the doors quietly.’

Ailsa Brimley was waiting in the front porch for them: a grey-haired lady of sixty with a firm, intelligent face. She was old Circus, Smiley said, one of Lord Lansbury’s coding ladies from the war, now in retirement but still formidable. She wore a trim brown suit. She shook Guillam by the hand and said ‘How do you do’, bolted the door and when he looked again she had gone. Smiley led the way upstairs. Fawn should wait on the lower landing in case he was needed.

‘It’s Smiley,’ he said, knocking on Tarr’s door. ‘I want a chat with you.’

Tarr opened the door fast. He must have heard them coming, he must have been waiting just the other side. He opened it with his left hand, holding the gun in his right, and he was looking past Smiley down the corridor.

‘It’s only Guillam,’ said Smiley.

‘That’s what I mean,’ said Tarr. ‘Babies can bite.’

They stepped inside. He wore slacks and some sort of cheap Malay wrap. Spelling cards lay spread over the floor and in the air hung a smell of curry which he had cooked for himself on a ring.

‘I’m sorry to be pestering you,’ said Smiley with an air of sincere commiseration. ‘But I must ask you again what you did with those two Swiss escape passports you took with you to Hong Kong.’

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