television advertising praising the integrity of estate agents and imagined this had to resemble the real experience. Proctor cupped Galina’s arm almost protectively in his hand to guide her to the chintz-decorated drawing room, heavy with a furniture style the Russian did not yet know to be New England, deferring to Levin when they came to something he described as a den, which had some books and a stocked bar and a TV set with the screen almost as large as he’d encountered in the few cinemas he had visited, but then going back to Galina for approval when they came to the kitchen. It was a huge laboratory of a place, a refrigerator/freezer larger than a grown man, with a soft-drink dispensing device in its front, a cooking hob separate from an oven controlled by a cockpit of knobs and a preparation area clustered with mixers and blenders and cutters and grinders, like mushrooms in a dawn field. There were seats for eight around a large, long table but Levin guessed another four could be accommodated with room sufficient to spread their arms. And a dining room, in addition. Again there was a lot of heavy furniture, this time including a serving sideboard and an open-fronted cupboard displaying glasses of every size. There was a downstairs lavatory and a further two upstairs, each separate from the two bathrooms, the larger of which was en suite to the main bedroom and included a jacuzzi fitment in the actual bath, with a slide-door shower and a bidet. There was a bidet in the second bathroom and Levin hoped Petr – who was regarding it curiously – would not ask him what it was for because he didn’t know either. The master bedroom had a walk-in dressing area, with sliding- door closets extending along two walls and a four-poster bed complete with canopy. At its foot was a manoeuvrable television and there were further television sets in each of the other three bedrooms, but there the beds were not canopied.
On the upstairs level Proctor let the obviously impressed Galina and Petr move away from them, taking Levin back into the master bedroom and pulling aside the heavy drapes of the bed. There was a red button, set in a white surround. The American said: ‘It’ll never be necessary because this is a CIA safe property and the protection here makes Fort Knox look like the gingerbread house. But it’s a panic button. They’re on every floor: I’ll show you where…’ As he talked Proctor went across to the mullioned windows, rapping the glass hard. ‘Not just double glazed,’ he said dismissively. ‘This stuff is resistant up to the impact of an Armalite…’ He turned away, smiling. ‘Again, quite unnecessary. We want you to know how safe you are, Yevgennie.’
‘It’s reassuring,’ said the Russian.
‘The entire property is walled: you wouldn’t have seen that last night when you came in, but I’ll show you around later,’ went on the FBI man. ‘The wall is electronically sensored. In addition there are ground sensors: three separate arrangements, in fact. Absolutely undetectable: look just like blades of grass, believe me. There’s also television and video monitoring: three separate guardhouses, manned twenty-four hours a day. The video is infra- red. Operates at night like it’s noon on a summer’s day.’
‘Seems very safe,’ said Levin, knowing it was expected.
‘Nothing’s been forgotten,’ Proctor pressed on. ‘There’ll be ground guards, in addition to those in the watch houses. And household staff: a cook and a maid. Our people, of course: completely vetted.’
‘It’s going to be difficult to adjust,’ said Levin.
Proctor went to speak and then stopped and Levin wondered if the man intended a remark about the difficulties of adjustment. Instead the American said: ‘Here for reassurance, really. Just until you settle in.’
‘Where are we?’ demanded Levin.
Proctor hesitated, smiling, then said: That’s not important, Yevgennie. What’s important is your recognizing how highly we regard you. How safe you are.’
So they didn’t trust him. Levin supposed it was naive for him to have expected trust, this soon. He’d estimated four hours’ driving and he’d watched the speedometer and knew they had obeyed the speed limit. They’d crossed the East River, not the Hudson: he was sure of that although the curtains had been drawn in the rear section of the car and the glass separating them from the driver had been smoked. Upstate New York? Or further?
‘This isn’t your permanent home, of course…’ resumed Proctor.
‘… A debriefing place,’ interrupted Levin.
‘Here for as long as it takes,’ picked up the American. ‘A tutor for Petr, until he’s ready for enrolment at a school. Any help Galina wants: language lessons, things like that.’
‘It seems very comprehensive,’ said Levin.
‘You’re not the first,’ reminded Proctor. ‘We’ve had a lot of practice. When the debriefing’s over there’ll be another house. Wherever you choose. New identities. A pension to live on.’
Levin was uncertain whether to risk the question because there was a risk in being premature. Deciding it fitted naturally into the conversation, he said: ‘Pensions are for people who retire.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Proctor at once.
Careful, thought Levin. Intentionally vague, he said: ‘I don’t know: I’ve just never thought of stopping work. I could get a job, I suppose? I don’t know what, but a job. Would that be possible once I’d completely assimilated?’
‘I imagine so,’ said Proctor, intentionally vague himself. ‘I’d have to talk it through with people.’
Time to retreat, Levin recognized. He was the one who now smiled. He said: ‘We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we. What about immediately?’
‘Move about a bit,’ said Proctor reassuringly. ‘Get to know the place. We’re meeting Billy Bowden in a while. He’ll be taking you through things.’
‘Debriefing?’ ‘
‘He’s a nice guy.’ Proctor’s spectacles came off and went immediately back on again, in his strange mannerism.
‘What about us? You and I?’
‘From time to time. I was your case officer, don’t forget.’
‘You made me a promise, David.’
‘I haven’t forgotten. I’ll get on to the State Department.’
‘I must have Natalia here with us,’ insisted Levin.
‘As far as we are concerned she can come tomorrow,’ insisted Proctor. ‘That’s a decision for your people.’
‘I don’t think I could stand it without her. Certainly Galina couldn’t.’
‘I’ll do everything I can,’ promised Proctor. ‘My word.’ The American paused and then said: ‘What about Petr? That was kind of a strange outburst last night.’
‘I could hardly have prepared him for what was to happen, could
I?’
‘I guess he’ll settle down,’ agreed Proctor.
‘I hope so,’ said Levin sincerely. Not enough attention had been given to how Petr might react.
‘Let’s take in the grounds,’ suggested Proctor.
Obediently Levin followed the other man from the house, gazing intently around the moment he was outside. The house was white clapboard, dominating a rise with lawns sweeping away on every side to what appeared to be a fringe of completely encircling trees. The treeline was so thick it was impossible to detect the electrified wall or the guard houses about which Proctor had spoken. Far away to the left – north, south, east or west? – began a ripple of thickly forested promontories but that’s all there were, trees. No landmarks; carefully or more likely cleverly chosen, he accepted.
Proctor ignored the sweeping drive, heading off with head bent in concentration across the grass to the right of the main entrance. He stooped suddenly and said: ‘There!’
Levin followed the outstretched hand and saw the sensor. It protruded about four inches from the ground, about a quarter of an inch wide and coloured green. It looked as if the outer covering were plastic. Positively identified it was clearly false but otherwise it merged perfectly into the long tufted grass.
‘You can hear the worms fart on these things,’ guaranteed Proctor. He began walking further towards the trees but a car appeared from where the driveway made a left-hand curve and the American stopped. He said: ‘Billy’s early.’
