tc.patriotgames-第65章

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　　　　〃Okay；　you're　on　the　team。　Marty's　coordinating　the　information。　You'll　work　directly　with　him。　I　hope　you　don't　talk　in　your　sleep；　son；　because　you're　going　to　see　stuff　that　you're　not　even　allowed　to　dream　about。〃　
　　　　〃Sir；　there's　only　one　thing　that　I'm　going　to　dream　about。〃

　　　　It　had　been　a　very　busy　month　for　Dennis　Cooley。　The　death　of　an　earl　in　East　Anglia　had　forced　his　heirs　to　sell　off　a　massive　collection　of　books　to　pay　the　death　duties；　and　Cooley　had　used　up　nearly　all　of　his　available　capital　to　secure　no　less　than　twenty…one　items　for　his　shop。　But　it　was　worth　it：　among　them　was　a　rare　first…folio　of　Marlowe's　plays。　Better　still；　the　dead　earl　had　been　assiduous　in　protecting　his　treasures。　The　books　had　been　deep…frozen　several　times　to　kill　off　the　insects　that　desecrated　these　priceless　relics　of　the　past。　The　Marlowe　was　in　remarkably　good　shape；　despite　the　waterstained　cover　that　had　put　off　a　number　of　less　perceptive　buyers。　Cooley　was　stooped　over　his　desk；　reading　the　first　act　of　The　Jew　of　Malta；　when　the　bell　rang。　
　　　　〃Is　that　the　one　I　heard　about？〃　his　visitor　asked　at　once。
　　　　〃Indeed。〃　Cooley　smiled　to　cover　his　surprise。　He　hadn't　seen　this　particular　visitor　for　some　time；　and　was　somewhat　disturbed　that　he'd　e　back　so　soon。　〃Printed　in　1633；　forty　years　after　Marlowe's　death。　Some　parts　of　the　text　are　suspect；　of　course；　but　this　is　one　of　the　few　surviving　copies　of　the　first　printed　edition。〃　
　　　　〃It's　quite　authentic？〃
　　　　〃Of　course；〃　Cooley　replied；　slightly　put　off　at　the　question。　〃In　addition　to　my　own　humble　expertise；　it　has　authentication　papers　from　Sir　Edmund　Grey　of　the　British　Museum。〃　
　　　　〃One　cannot　argue　with　that；〃　the　customer　agreed。
　　　　〃I'm　afraid　I　have　not　yet　decided　upon　a　price　for　it。〃　Why　are　you　here？
　　　　〃Price　is　not　an　object。　I　understand　that　you　may　wish　to　enjoy　it　for　yourself；　but　I　must　have　it。〃　This　told　Cooley　why　he　was　here。　He　leaned　to　look　over　Cooley's　shoulder　at　the　book。　〃Magnificent；〃　he　said；　placing　a　small　envelope　in　the　book　dealer's　pocket。
　　　　〃Perhaps　we　can　work　something　out；〃　Cooley　allowed。　〃In　a　few　weeks；　perhaps。〃　He　looked　out　the　window。　A　man　was　window…shopping　at　the　jewelry　store　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　arcade。　After　a　moment　he　straightened　up　and　walked　away。　
　　　　〃Sooner　than　that；　please；〃　the　man　insisted。
　　　　Cooley　sighed。　〃e　see　me　next　week　and　we　may　be　able　to　discuss　it。　I　do　have　other　customers；　you　know。〃　
　　　　〃But　none　more　important；　I　hope。〃　
　　　　Cooley　blinked　twice。　〃Very　well。〃
　　　　Geoffrey　Watkins　continued　to　browse　the　store　for　another　few　minutes。　He　selected　a　Keats　that　had　also　e　from　the　dead　earl's　estate　and　paid　six　hundred　pounds　for　it　before　leaving。　On　leaving　the　arcade　he　failed　to　notice　a　young　lady　at　the　newsstand　outside　and　could　not　have　known　that　another　was　waiting　at　the　arcade's　other　end。　The　one　who　followed　him　was　dressed　in　a　manner　guaranteed　to　garner　attention；　including　orange　hair　that　would　have　fluoresced　if　the　sun　had　been　out。　She　followed　him　west　for　two　blocks　and　kept　going　in　that　direction　when　he　crossed　the　street。　Another　police　officer　was　on　the　walk　down　Green　Park。

　　　　That　night　the　daily　surveillance　reports　came　to　Scotland　Yard　where；　as　always；　they　were　put　on　puter。　The　operation　being　run　was　a　joint　venture　between　the　Metropolitan　Police　and　the　Security　Service；　once　known　as　MI…5。　Unlike　the　American　FBI；　the　people　at　〃Five〃　did　not　have　the　authority　to　arrest　suspects；　and　had　to　work　through　the　police　to　bring　a　case　to　a　conclusion。　The　marriage　was　not　entirely　a　happy　one。　It　meant　that　James　Owens　had　to　work　closely　with　David　Ashley。　Owens　entirely　concurred　with　his　FBI　colleague's　assessment　of　the　younger　man：　〃a　snotty　bastard。〃
　　　　〃Patterns；　patterns；　patterns；〃　Ashley　said；　sipping　his　tea　while　he　looked　at　the　printout。　They　had　identified　a　total　of　thirty…nine　people　who　knew；　or　might　have　known；　information　mon　to　the　ambush　on　The　Mall　and　Miller's　transport　to　the　Isle　of　Wight。　One　of　them　had　leaked　the　information。　Every　one　of　them　was　being　watched。　Thus　far　they　had　discovered　a　closet　homosexual；　two　men　and　one　woman　who　were　having　affairs　not　of　state；　and　a　man　who　got　considerable　enjoyment　watching　pornographic　movies　in　the　Soho　theaters。　Financial　records　gotten　from　Inland　Revenue　showed　nothing　particularly　interesting；　nor　did　living　habits。　There　was　the　usual　spread　of　hobbies；　taste　in　theatrical　plays；　and　television　shows。　Several　of　the　people　had　wide　collections　of　friends。　A　few　had　none　at　all。　The　investigators　were　grateful　for　these　sad；　lonely　people　　many　of　the　other　people's　friends　had　to　be　checked　out；　too；　and　this　took　time　and　manpower。　Owens　viewed　the　entire　operation　as　something　necessary　but　rather　distasteful。　It　was　the　police　equivalent　of　peering　through　windows。　The　tapes　of　telephone　conversations　　especially　those　between　lovers　　made　him　squirm　on　occasion。　Owens　was　a　man　who　appreciated　the　individual's　need　for　privacy。　No　one's　life　could　survive　this　sort　of　scrutiny。　He　told　himself　that　one　person's　life　wouldn't；　and　that　was　the　point　of　the　exercise。
　　　　〃I　see　Mr。　Watkins　visited　a　rare　book　shop　this　afternoon；〃　Owens　noted；　reading　over　his　own　printout。
　　　　〃Yes。　He　collects　them。　So　do　I；〃　Ashley　said。　〃I've　been　in　that　shop　once　or　twice　myself。　There　was　an　estate　sale　recently。　Perhaps　Cooley　bought　a　few　things　that　Geoffrey　wants　for　himself。〃　The　security　officer　made　a　mental　note　to　look　at　the　shop　for　himself。　〃He　was　in　there　for　ten　minutes；　spoke　with　Dennis　〃　
　　　　〃You　know　him？〃　Owens　looked　up。
　　　　〃One　of　the　best　men　in　the　trade；〃　Ashley　said。　He　smiled　at　his　own　choice　of　words：　the　Trade。　〃I　bought　a　Bronte　there　for　my　wife；　Christmas　two　years　ago；　I　think。　He's　a　fat　little　poof；　but　he's　quite　knowledgeable。　So　Geoffrey　spoke　with　him　for　about　ten　minutes；　made　a　purchase；　and　left。　I　wonder　what　he　bought。〃　Ashley　rubbed　his　eyes。　He'd　been　on　a　strict　regimen　of　fourteen…hour　days　for　longer　than　he　cared　to　remember。
　　　　〃The　first　new　person　Watkins　has　seen　in　several　weeks；〃　Owens　noted。　He　thought　about　it　for　a　moment。　There　were　better　leads　than　this　to　follow　up　on；　and　his　manpower　was　limited。

　　　　〃So　can　we　deal　on　this　immigration　question？〃　the　public　defender　asked。
　　　　〃Not　a　chance；〃　Bill　Shaw　said　from　the　other　side　of　the　table。　You　think　we're　going　to　give　him　political　asylum？
　　　　〃You're　not　offering　us　a　thing；〃　the　lawyer　observed。　〃I　bet　I　can　beat　the　weapons　charge；　and　there's　no　way　you　can　make　the　conspiracy　stick。〃
　　　　〃That's　fine；　counselor。　If　it　will　make　you　any　happier　we'll　cut　him　loose　and　give　him　a　plane　ticket；　and　even　an　escort；　home。〃
　　　　〃To　a　maximum…security　prison。〃　The　public　defender　closed　his　file　folder　on　the　case　of　Eamon　Clark。　〃You're　not　giving　me　anything　to　deal　with。〃
　　　　〃If　he　cops　to　the　gun　charge　and　conspiracy；　and　if　he　helps　us；　he　gets　to　spend　a　few　years　in　a　much　nicer　prison。　But　if　you　think　we're　going　to　let　a　convicted　murderer　just　walk；　mister；　you　are　kidding　yourself。　What　do　you　think　you　have　to　deal　with？〃　
　　　　〃You　might　be　surprised；〃　the　attorney　said　cryptically。
　　　　〃Oh；　yeah？　I'm　willing　to　bet　that　he　hasn't　said　anything　to　you　either；〃　the　agent　challenged　the　young　attorney；　and　watched　closely　for　his　reaction。　Bill　Shaw；　too；　had　passed　the　bar　exam；　though　he　devoted　his　legal　expertise　to　the　safety　of　society　rather　than　the　freedom　of　criminals。
　　　　〃Conversations　between　attorney　and　client　are　privileged。〃　The　lawyer　had　been　practicing　for　exactly　two　and　a　half　years。　His　understanding　of　his　job　was　limited　largely　to　keeping　the　police　away　from　his　charges。　At　first　he'd　been　gratified　that　Clark　hadn't　said　much　of　anything　to　the　police　and　FBI；　but　he　was　surprised　that　Clark　wouldn't　even　talk　to　him。　After　all；　maybe　he　could　cut　a　deal；　despite　what　this　FBI　fellow　said。　But　he　had　nothing　to　deal　with；　as　Shaw　had　just　told　him。　He　waited　a　few　moments　for　a　reaction　from　the　agent　and　got　nothing　but　a　blank　stare。　The　public　defender　admitted　defeat　to　himself。　Well；　there　hadn't　been　much　of　a　chance　on　this。
　　　　〃That's　what　I　thought。〃　Shaw　stood。　〃Tell　your　client　that　unless　he　opens　up　by　the　day　after　tomorrow；　he's　flying　home　to　finish　out　a　life　sentence。　Make　sure　you　tell　him　that。　If　he　wants　to　talk　after　he　gets　back；　we'll　send　people　to　him。　They　say　the　beer's　pretty　good　over　there；　and　I　wouldn't　mind　flying　over　myself　to　find　out。〃　The　only　thing　the　Bureau　could　use　over　Clark　was　fear。　The　mission　he'd　been　part　of　had　hurt　the　Proves；　and　young；　dumb　Ned　might　not　like　the　reception　he　got。　He'd　be　safer　in　a　U。S。　penitentiary　than　he　would　be　in　a　British　one；　but　Shaw　doubted　that　he　understood　this；　or　that　he'd　crack　in　any　case。　Maybe　after　he　got　back；　something　might　be　arranged。
　　　　The　case　was　not　going　well；　not　that　he'd　expected　otherwise。　This　sort　of　thing　either　cracked　open　immediately；　or　took　months　　or　years。　The　people　they　were　after　were　too　clever　to　have　left　an　immediate　opening　to　be　exploited。　What　remained　to　him　and　his　men　was　the　day…by…day　grind。　But　that　was　the　textbook　definition　of　investigative　police　work。　Shaw　knew　this　well　enough：　he　had　written　one　of　the　standard　texts。

Chapter　18　Lights

　　　　Ashley　entered　the　bookshop　at　four　in　the　afternoon。　A　true　bibliophile；　he　paused　on　opening　the　door　to　appreciate　the　aroma。
　　　　〃Is　Mr。　Cooley　in　today？〃　he　asked　the　clerk。
　　　　〃No；　sir；〃　Beatrix　replied。　〃He's　abroad　on　business。　May　I　help　you？〃　
　　　　〃Yes。　I　understand　that　you've　made　some　new　acquisitions。〃　
　　　　〃Ah；　yes。　Have　you　heard　about　the　Marlowe　first　folio？〃　Beatrix　looked　remarkably　like　a　mouse。　Her　hair　was　exactly　the　proper　drab　shade　of　brown　and　ill…kept。　Her　face　was　puffy；　whether　from　too　much　food　or　too　much　drink；　Ashley　couldn't　say。　Her　eyes　were　hidden　behind　thick　glasses。　She　dressed　in　a　way　that　fitted　the　store　exactly　　everything　she　had　on　was　old　and　out　of　date。　Ashley　remembered　buying　his　wife　the　Bronte　here；　and　wondered　if　those　two　sad；　lonely　sisters　had　looked　like　this　girl。　It　was　too　bad；　really。　With　a　little　effort　she　might　actually　have　been　attractive。
　　　　〃A　Marlowe？〃　the　man　from　〃Five〃　asked。　〃First　folio；　you　said？〃
　　　　〃Yes；　sir；　from　the　collection　of　the　late　Earl　of　Crundale。　As　you　know；　Marlowe's　plays　were　not　actually　printed　until　forty　years　after　his　death。〃　She　went　on；　displaying　something　that　her　appearance　didn't　begin　to　hint　at。　Ashley　listened　with　respect。　The　mouse　knew　her　business　as　well　as　an　Oxford　don。
　　　　〃How　do　you　find　such　things？〃　Ashley　asked　when　she'd　finished　her　discourse。
　　　　She　smiled。　〃Mr。　Dennis　can　smell　them。　He　is　always　traveling；　working　with　other　dealers　and　lawyers　and　such。　He's　in　Ireland　today；　for　example。　It's　amazing　how　many　books　he　manages　to　obtain　over　there。　Those　horrid　people　have　the　most　marvelous　collections。〃　Beatrix　did　not　approve　of　the　Irish。
　　　　〃Indeed；〃　David　Ashley　noted。　He　didn't　react　to　this　bit　of　news　at　all。　At　least　not　physical