“How?”
“You think the Czechs don’t monitor our calls? Christ, it’s how half the country makes its living.”
“Well, sorry. It was all I could think of.”
“Sorry.”
“Back off, okay? I came to see my father. He killed himself and I got hauled into a Czech police station-what would you do? It worked, didn’t it? I’m not going to tell anybody Kemper’s CIA, I don’t give a shit. I’m not trying to make trouble for anybody. I just want to get out of here.”
Foster looked at him, surprised. “He killed himself?”
“He’s dead. Maybe they think I did it, I don’t know. Didn’t Molly tell you?” Nick said, watching him closely.
“Nobody told me anything,” Foster said smoothly. “I got a message sent up there’s an American in jail says he works for Jack Kemper and would I go and get him. Now I’ve got this mess. He doesn’t know you. You don’t know him. How’d you know he was CIA, anyway?” Actually looking around as he spoke.
“I didn’t,” Nick said, not wanting to involve Larry. “I just figured it was a safe bet. All you embassy guys are, aren’t you?”
Foster held up his hand. “I just work here.”
“Yeah, stamping passports.”
“Okay, let’s just calm down. We’ll go for a little ride and you tell the good folks what you told me.”
“You tell them. Look, I’ve been answering questions all day. You’re supposed to be on my side, remember? I’m just an American who pushed a button for help. The wrong button, I guess. Tell Kemper I’m sorry, his secret’s safe with me. Tell him he has a nice wife. We sat together at dinner, that’s why I remembered his name. That’s all it is.”
“That’s all.”
“I won’t be hard to find if you want me tomorrow. The police are making me stay in Prague. Can they do that, by the way?”
Foster nodded. “It’s their country.”
“So can we skip the debriefing? I’m not a spook. I’m not anything — just tired. I just want to go back to the hotel.” Did he? What would he say? Careful of her now. Quicksilver.
Foster was looking at him. “Some stunt.” Then he smiled. “You don’t know what you started. They’ve even got the ambassador jumping around.”
“Well, make my apologies.”
“You’ll have to do that one yourself.” He looked at him again, assessing. “Okay, tomorrow. He’s got a dinner tonight anyway. You’re out, that’s the main thing. We don’t want the Czechs thinking it’s anything serious. That would really start something. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”
“I’ll walk.”
“That makes it harder for them,” Foster said, sliding his eyes toward a parked car. Two men. “They’ll have to go slow, and it messes up traffic. Easier to follow a car.”
“I’ll never be alone again, huh?”
“Not in Prague.”
“Nicholas?” He heard a voice at his side. Anna. How long had she been there? “Everything is all right?”
He nodded. She glanced at Foster, then handed Nick a piece of paper.
“It’s the address. For the funeral.”
“The funeral?” Already arranged.
“Yes, tomorrow. If you would come.”
He looked down at the paper. A meaningless street name. “Tomorrow? Aren’t they going to do an autopsy?”
She shook her head. “No one said. There’s no need.”
He grabbed her arms. “Anna, he didn’t kill himself. They should-”
But she shrank from him, looking around to see if anyone was watching. “Please.” She turned her back to Foster, who felt awkward enough to step toward the car. “You don’t understand,” she said to Nick, almost a whisper. “How it is here. It’s better not to wait.”
“Better? For whom, the police? I won’t let them do this.”
“You won’t?”
“I’m his family.”
“I’m his family here, Nicholas. Me.” She glared at him, then lowered her head. “It’s not for you to decide.”
“But don’t you want to know?”
“What? I know he’s dead. It’s enough.” She moved back. “What I said before-I know you meant well. But now, leave Prague. There’s nothing more for you to do here.” She nodded at the paper in his hand. “Ten o’clock,” she said, and walked away.
Nick got into the back seat with Foster, behind the driver, who had a Marine’s shaved head.
“What was that all about? I thought you said he killed himself.”
“She’s his wife. What would you say?” He looked away, feeling in his pocket for a cigarette. “Let her think it was an accident.”
“An accident. With an autopsy.” Foster leaned forward to the driver. “The Alcron, over on Wenceslas.” The car swung into the street. “You don’t want to get involved in anything,” he said to Nick. “Not here. There’s only so much we can do, you know. We can make a little noise if they haul you in for no reason, but if there’s anything wrong-”
“I’m on my own, I know.” He lit the cigarette. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s wrong, not that way. They think he killed himself. Everybody does.”
“But not you.”
Nick looked at him. “He must have.”
“I’m sorry. They said you found him. That’s rough.”
“Yes.”
“After all these years.”
“You know who he was?”
“Well, after I heard the name. He’s the one that got away.” Foster paused. “Must be a hell of a thing to live with.”
The car was quiet with the tension of someone not rising to the bait.
“You guys keep tabs on him? Keep the files up to date?”
“We don’t have the manpower for that,” Foster said flatly. “By the way, before you get any other ideas, I don’t work for the Agency.”
“You just work at the embassy.”
“That’s right.”
“Doing what?”
“Trade relations, mostly.”
What had Kemper been in? Agricultural development.
“Really. What do we import?”
“Glass.”
Nick took another pull on the cigarette. “I’d like to know. Did you keep tabs on him? Tail him, that kind of thing? Yesterday, for instance?”
“Why yesterday?”
Nick shrugged. “I just wondered. Something was bothering him. I thought maybe you-”
“I wouldn’t know. I was in meetings all day.” He turned to Nick. “Nobody was tailing him. I told you, we don’t have the people for that. I don’t think the intelligence guys-” He looked at Nick. “We have some. I never heard they were interested. Is there any reason why they should have been?”
“No good reason, no.”
“Anyway, it would fit, wouldn’t it? Something bothering him.”
“Perfectly.”
