jamesclavell.noblehouse-第182章

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　〃No。　First　we　have　to　be　sure。　That　should　be　relatively　easy。〃　Crosse　glanced　at　the　liquor　cabinet。　〃May　I？〃
　〃Sure。　I'll　take　another　shot　of　whiskey。〃
　Crosse　handed　him　the　refill。　〃I'll　make　a　deal　with　you：　You　really　cooperate；　pletely；　you　don't　do　anything　without　telling　me　in　advance；　no　secrets；　no　jumping　the　gun　。。。〃
　〃In　return　for？〃
　Crosse　smiled　his　thin　smile　and　took　out　some　photocopies。　〃How　would　you　like　to　influence；　perhaps　even　control；　certain　presidential　hopefuls　…　perhaps　even　an　election？〃
　〃I　don't　follow　you。〃
　Crosse　passed　over　the　letters　of　Thomas　K。　K。　Lim　that　Armstrong　and　his　team　had　acquired　in　the　raid　on　Bucktooth　Lo　two　days　before。　〃It　seems　that　certain　very　rich；　very　well…connected　U。S。　families　are　in　league　with　certain　U。S。　generals　to　build　several　large　but　unnecessary　airfields　in　Vietnam；　for　personal　gain。　This　documents　the　how；　when　and　who。〃　Crosse　told　him　where　and　how　the　papers　had　been　found　and　added；　〃Isn't　Senator　Wilf　Tillman；　the　one　that's　here　now；　a　presidential　hopeful？　I　imagine　he'd　make　you　head　of　the　CIA　for　these　goodies　…　if　you　wanted　to　give　them　to　him。　These　two're　even　juicier。〃　Crosse　put　them　on　the　desk。　〃These　document　how　certain　rather　well…connected　politicians　and　the　same　well…connected　families　have　got　congressional　approval　to　channel　millions　into　a　totally　fraudulent　aid　program　in　Vietnam。　8　millions　have　already　been　paid　over。〃
　Rosemont　read　the　letters。　His　face　went　chalky。　He　picked　up　the　phone。　〃Get　me　Ed　Langan。〃　He　waited　a　moment；　then　his　face　went　suddenly　purple。　〃I　don't　give　a　goddamn！〃　he　rasped。　〃Get　off　your　goddamn　butt　and　get　Ed　here　right　now。〃　He　slammed　the　phone　back　onto　its　hook；　cursing　obscenely；　opened　his　desk；　found　a　bottle　of　antacid　pills　and　took　three。　〃I'll　never　make　fifty　at　this　rate；〃　he　muttered。　〃Rog；　this　joker；　Thomas　K。　K。　Lim；　can　we　have　him？〃
　〃If　you　can　find　him；　be　my　guest。　He's　somewhere　in　South　America。〃　Crosse　put　down　another　paper。　〃This's　Anti…Corruption's　confidential　report。　You　shouldn't　have　any　trouble　tracking　him。〃
　Rosemont　read　it。　〃Jesus。〃　After　a　pause　he　said；　〃Can　we　keep　this　between　us？　It's　liable　to　blow　the　roof　off　a　couple　of　our　national　monuments。〃
　〃Of　course。　We　have　a　deal？　Nothing　hidden　on　either　side？〃
　〃Okay。〃　Rosemont　went　to　the　safe　and　unlocked　it。　〃One　good　turn　deserves　another。〃　He　found　the　file　he　was　looking　for；　took　out　some　papers；　put　the　file　back　and　relocked　the　safe。　〃Here；　these're　photocopies。　You　can　have　'em。〃
　The　photocopies　were　headed　〃Freedom　Fighter〃　dated　this　month　and　last　month。　Crosse　went　through　them　quickly　and　whistled　from　time　to　time。　They　were　espionage　reports；　their　quality　excellent。　All　the　items　dealt　with　Canton；　happenings　in　and　around　that　vital　capital　city　of　Kwantung　Province：　troop　movements；　promotions；　appointments　to　the　local　presidiums　and　munist　Party；　floods；　food　shortages；　the　military；　numbers　and　types　of　East　German　and　Czechoslovak　goods　available　in　the　stores。　〃Where'd　you　get　these？〃　he　asked。
　〃We've　a　cell　operating　in　Canton。　This's　one　of　their　reports；　we　get　them　monthly。　Shall　I　give　you　a　copy？〃
　〃Yes。　Yes　thank　you。　I'll　check　it　out　through　our　sources　for　accuracy。〃
　〃They're　accurate；　Rog。　Of　course　top　secret；　yes？　I　don't　want　my　guys　blown　like　Fong…fong。　We'll　keep　this　between　you'n　me；　okay？〃
　〃All　right。〃
　The　American　got　up　and　put　out　his　hand。　〃And　Rog；　I'm　sorry　about　the　raid。〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Good。　As　to　this　joker；　Lim；　we'll　find　him。〃　Rosemont　stretched　wearily　then　went　and　poured　himself　another　drink。　〃Rog？〃
　〃No　thanks；　I'll　be　off；〃　Crosse　said。
　Rosemont　stabbed　a　blunt　finger　at　the　letters。　〃About　those；　thanks。　Yeah；　thanks　but　。。。〃　He　stopped　a　moment；　near　tears　of　rage。　〃Sometimes　I'm　so　sick　to　my　stomach　what　our　own　guys'll　do　for　goddamn　dough　even　if　it's　a　goddamn　pile　of　goddamn　gold　I'd　like　to　die。　You　know　what　I　mean？〃
　〃Oh　yes！〃　Crosse　kept　his　voice　kind　and　gentle　but　he　was　thinking；　How　naive　you　are；　Stanley！
　In　a　moment　he　left　and　went　to　police　HQ　and　checked　out　the　fingerprints　in　his　private　files；　then　got　back　into　his　car　and　headed　haphazardly　toward　West　Point。　When　he　was　sure　that　he　was　not　being　followed；　he　stopped　at　the　next　phone　booth　and　dialed。　In　a　moment　the　phone　was　picked　up　at　the　other　end。　No　answer；　just　breathing。　At　once　Crosse　coughed　Arthur's　dry　hacking　cough　and　spoke　in　a　perfect　imitation　of　Arthur's　voice。　〃Mr。　Lop…sing　please。〃
　〃There's　no　Mr。　Lop…ting　here。　Sorry；　you　have　a　wrong　number。〃
　Contentedly　Crosse　recognized　Suslev。　〃I　want　to　leave　a　message；〃　he　said　continuing　the　code　in　the　same　voice　that　both　he　and　Jason　Plumm　used　on　the　telephone；　both　of　them　finding　it　very　useful　to　be　able　to　pretend　to　be　Arthur　whenever　necessary；　thus　further　covering　each　other　and　their　real　identities。
　When　the　code　was　plete；　Suslev　said；　〃And？〃
　Crosse　smiled　thinly；　glad　to　be　able　to　dupe　Suslev。　〃I've　read　the　material。　So　has　Our　Friend。〃　Our　friend　was　Arthur's　code　name　for　himself；　Roger　Crosse。
　〃Ah！　And？〃
　〃And　we　both　agree　it's　excellent。〃　Excellent　was　a　code　word　meaning　counterfeit　or　false　information。
　A　long　pause。　〃So？〃
　〃Can　our　friend　contact　you；　Saturday　at　four？〃　Can　Roger　Crosse　contact　you　tonight　at　10：00　p。m。　at　safe　phones？
　〃Yes。　Thank　you　for　calling。〃　Yes。　Message　understood。
　Crosse　replaced　the　receiver。
　He　took　out　another　coin　and　dialed　again。
　〃Hello？〃
　〃Hello；　Jason；　this's　Roger　Crosse；〃　he　said　affably。
　〃Oh　hello；　Superintendent；　this's　a　pleasant　surprise；〃　Plumm　replied。　〃Is　our　bridge　game　still　on　for　tomorrow？〃　Did　you　make　the　intercept　of　the　AMG　files？
　〃Yes；〃　Crosse　said；　then　added　casually；　〃But　instead　of　six　could　we　make　it　eight？〃　Yes；　but　we're　safe；　no　names　were　mentioned。
　There　was　a　great　sigh　of　relief。　Then　Plumm　said；　〃Shall　I　tell　the　others？〃　Do　we　meet　tonight　as　arranged？
　〃No；　no　need　to　disturb　them　tonight；　we　can　do　that　tomorrow。〃　No。　We'll　meet　tomorrow。
　〃Fine。　Thank　you　for　calling。〃
　Crosse　went　back　down　the　crowded　street。　Very　pleased　with　himself；　he　got　into　his　car　and　lit　a　cigarette。　I　wonder　what　Suslev　…　or　his　bosses　…　would　think　if　they　knew　I　was　the　real　Arthur；　not　Jason　Plumm。　Secrets　within　secrets　within　secrets　and　Jason　the　only　one　who　knows　who　Arthur　really　is！
　He　chuckled。
　The　KGB　would　be　furious。　They　don't　like　secrets　they're　not　party　to。　And　they'd　be　even　more　furious　if　they　knew　it　was　I　who　inducted　Plumm　and　formed　Sevrin；　not　the　other　way　around。
　It　had　been　easy　to　arrange。　When　Crosse　was　in　Military　Intelligence　in　Germany　at　the　tail　end　of　the　war；　information　was　whispered　to　him　privately　that　Plumm；　a　signals　expert；　was　operating　a　clandestine　transmitter　for　the　Soviets。　Within　a　month　he　had　got　to　know　Plumm　and　had　established　the　truth　of　this　but　almost　immediately　the　war　had　ended。　So　he　had　docketed　the　information　for　future　use　…　to　barter　with；　or　against　a　time　he　might　want　to　switch　sides。　In　espionage　you　never　know　when　you're　being　set　up；　or　betrayed；　or　being　sold　for　something　or　someone　more　valuable。　You　always　need　secrets　to　barter　with；　the　more　important　the　secrets　the　safer　you　are；　because　you　never　know　when　you　or　an　underling　or　overling　will　make　the　mistake　that　leaves　you　as　naked　and　as　helpless　as　a　spiked　butterfly。　Like　Voranski。　Like　Metkin。　Like　Dunross　with　his　phony　files。　Like　Rosemont　with　his　naive　idealism。　Like　Gregor　Suslev；　his　fingerprints　from　the　glass　now　on　record　with　the　CIA　and　so　in　a　trap　of　my　own　choosing。
　Crosse　laughed　aloud。　He　let　in　the　clutch；　easing　out　into　the　traffic。　Switching　sides　and　playing　them　all　off　against　each　other　makes　life　exciting；　he　told　himself。　Yes；　secrets　really　do　make　life　very　exciting　indeed。
　
　61
　
　9：45　P。M。：
　Pok　Liu　Chau　was　a　small　island　southwest　of　Aberdeen；　and　dinner　the　best　Chinese　food　Bartlett　had　ever　had。　They　were　on　their　eighth　course；　small　bowls　of　rice。　Traditionally　rice　was　the　last　dish　at　a　banquet。
　〃You're　not　really　supposed　to　eat　any；　Linc！〃　Orlanda　laughed。　〃That　sort　of　dramatizes　to　your　host　that　you're　full　to　bursting！〃
　〃You　can　say　that　again；　Orlanda！　Quillan；　it's　been　fantastic！〃
　〃Yes；　yes　it　was；　Quillan；〃　she　echoed。　〃You　chose　beautifully。〃
　The　restaurant　was　beside　a　small　wharf　near　a　fishing　village　…　drab　and　lit　with　bare　bulbs　and　furnished　with　oilcloth　on　the　tables　and　bad　chairs　and　broken　tiles　on　the　floor。　Behind　it　was　an　alley　of　fish　tanks　where　the　daily　catch　of　the　island　was　kept　for　sale。　Under　the　proprietor's　direction　they　chose　from　what　was　swimming　in　the　tanks：　prawns；　squid；　shrimps；　lobster；　small　crabs　and　fish　of　all　kinds　of　shapes　and　sizes。
　Gornt　had　argued　with　the　proprietor　over　the　menu；　settling　with　what　fish　they　could　agree　on。　Both　were　experts　and　Gornt　a　valued　customer。　Later　they　had　sat　down　at　a　table　on　the　patio。　It　was　cool　and　they　drank　beer；　happy　together；　the　three　of　them。　All　knew　that　at　least　during　dinner　there　was　a　truce　and　no　need　for　guards。
　In　moments　the　first　dish　had　arrived　…　mounds　of　succulent　quick…fried　shrimps；　sea…sweet　and　as　delicious　as　any　in　the　world。　Then　tiny　octopus　with　garlic　and　ginger　and　chili　and　all　the　condiments　of　the　East。　Then　some　chicken　wings　deep　fried　which　they　ate　with　sea　salt；　then　the　great　fish　steamed　with　soy　and　slivers　of　fresh　green　onions　and　ginger　and　laid　on　a　platter；　the　cheek；　the　delicacy　of　the　fish；　given　to　Bartlett　as　the　honored　guest。　〃Jesus；　when　I　saw　this　dump；　sorry；　this　place；　I　figured　you　were　putting　me　on。〃
　〃Ah；　my　dear　fellow；〃　Gornt　said；　〃you　have　to　know　the　Chinese。　They　aren't　concerned　with　the　surroundings；　just　the　food。　They'd　be　very　suspicious　of　any　eating　place　that　wasted　money　on　decoration　or　tablecloths　or　candles。　They　want　to　see　what　they　eat　…　hence　the　harsh　light。　Chinese　are　at　their　best　eating。　They're　like　Italians。　They　love　to　laugh　and　eat　and　drink　and　belch。　。。。〃
　They　all　drank　beer。　〃That　goes　best　with　Chinese　food　though　Chinese　tea's　better　…　it's　more　digestive　and　breaks　down　all　the　oil。〃
　〃Why　the　smile；　Linc？〃　Orlanda　asked。　She　was　sitting　between　them。
　〃No　reason。　It's　just　that　you　really　know　how　to　eat　here。　Say；　what's　this？〃
　She　peered　at　the　dish　of　fried　rice　mixed　with　various　kinds　of　fish。　〃Squid。〃
　〃What？〃
　The　others　laughed　and　Gornt　said；　〃The　Chinese　say　if　its　back　faces　heaven　it's　edible。　Shall　we　go？〃
　As　soon　as　they　were　back　on　board　and　out　to　sea；　away　from　the　wharf；　there　was　coffee　and　brandy。　Gornt　said；　〃Will　you　excuse　me　for　a　while？　I've　got　some　paper　work　to　do。　If　you're　cold；　use　the　forward　stateroom。〃　He　went　below。
　Thoughtfully　Bartlett　sipped　his　brandy。　Orlanda　was　across　from　him　and　they　were　lounging　in　the　deck　chairs　on　the　aft　deck。　Suddenly　he　wished　that　this　was　his　boat　and　they　were　alone。　Her　eyes　were　on　him。　Without　being　asked；　she　moved　closer　and　put　her　hand　on　the　back　of　his　neck；　kneading　the　muscles　gently　and　expertly。
　〃That　feels　grea