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keep me from my four
o clock appointment with the minister.
That s station six, is it not? The one from Natural Resources?
Yes.
Put the handset down. We ll call back.
Thank you.
I put the handset down and looked into the muzzle of the guard s handgun.
I could blast you for that, he said.
Not if you want to keep your job.
The wireset bleeped.
Station six.
I watched as the sentry turned pale. But ... he didn t ... but ... yes,
sir. Yes, sir. At five, sir. Yes, sir.
He looked at me, and if his eyes had been knives, I would have been
hamburger. You re cleared,
sir.
I opened the leather folder for him to see and caught his eyes. It s a
cheap lesson, son. Don t ever
make threats. And don t ever stand in front of someone older and wiser unless
you intend to kill them
and pay for it yourself. Facing him down was a risk I shouldn t have
taken, but I was getting tired of the
games.
How many ...
More than you want to know, son. We old goats are more dangerous than we
look. I sighed and
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walked past him into the tunnel that led into the subbasement of the Spazi
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building. The guard there
waved me on into the growing smell of disinfectant.
VanBecton s office was on the fourth floor. I walked up, still holding
to my resolve to improve my
conditioning. I don t think I panted as much as the time a week earlier,
but I still stopped a moment on
the last landing to catch my breath. The landings were empty, as always.
It s against the English ethic to
appear to work, and against the Dutch to engage in unnecessary work when
there is so much that is
necessary.
The pinch-faced clerk gave me a grin, an actual grin, as I walked into
vanBecton s outer office.
Thank you, Doktor.
Glad to be of service.
The minister has not been happy with some of the guards, but most reports
have been too late for
him to act.
In short, Gillaume vanBecton had been taking it out on his staff, and the
clerk was more than pleased
that someone else was on the firing line.
You can go right in.
I smiled at the clerk, then opened the steel-lined wooden door, closing it
behind me as I stepped
toward the desk and vanBecton.
Johan. Already you re making your presence felt, just like in the old
days, I understand.
VanBecton offered his broad and phony smile, stepping around the wide
desk.
I doubt that. Your guard wants to kill me, and that s not exactly the
impression I d rather leave. I
am afraid my patience has been eroded by age.
Do have a seat. He sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, a
gesture clearly designed to imply
we were dealing as equals.
Thank you. I sat. I thought I should stop by, since I was invited to
swell the President s guest list
at the last moment. I take it that a number of the regulars decided to
decline the invitation after the
Japanese announcement?
There were a few. VanBecton covered his mouth with a carefully
manicured hand and coughed.
Have you had any interesting developments in your area?
Not really interesting. You have discovered, I presume, that Professor
Miller s older son was
arrested on trumped-up charges by the New French.
We knew of the charges.
His personality makes it highly unlikely that he would ever even skirt
the law. That s what the family
feels.
How would that fit with Professor Miller s death?
The only thing I can think of is that someone else knew she was working
for Maurice-Huizenga.
Perhaps she knew too much.
Oh?
I shrugged. Knowing who I was wouldn t be enough. A retired Spazi
employee? Come now.
That puts a different light on Doktor duBoise.
Why? I asked, trying to look puzzled.
Now, Johan. She must be working for Takaynishu. Who else could it be? You
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have pointed out
how unlikely it is that she would be in the pay of the Austro-Hungarians,
and with Professor Miller
reporting to Maurice-Huizenga ... who else could it be?
You assume that she works for someone. What about some proof?
We have some transcripts of wireline conversations.
Whose?
You are good, aren t you?
No. But I ve played the game for a long time. Whose conversations?
The Miller operation was quite professional. She always received
calls. She never made them.
Sitting duck, and that sounds like the New French.
The transmissions were always illegal that is, someone tapped a line
not far from the New French
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border and the caller always said, Rick is all right.
And what did the good professor say?
Many things, not all relevant to the point I raised. You understand, I
know. She did say that he
looked back toward his desk Doktor duBoise pursues them all, but spends by
far the bulk of her
energy and charm on Doktor Eschbach. If he but knew what held her soul, he
would be far less
interested. Ferdinand is not even that evil. VanBecton smiled.
Unfortunately, Professor Miller was
rather poetic; so it is hard to prove some things literally. I
imagine that it must have given
Maurice-Huizenga fits, but he was playing out of his depth.
Yes, he was. I frowned. You believe that such vague words mean that
Doktor duBoise had to be
working for the Japanese?
Was it not strange that she was released through the intervention of the
Japanese ambassador?
Why? They do have a reputation for liking occidental music.
And occidental singers.
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