announced he had to return to Washington. They hadn’t argued—because, of course, they never argued—but O’Farrell knew it was the closest they’d come for a long time, on Jill’s part at least. That’s why he’d promised to fly back the following day, to minimize the upset.
“Kids!” Erickson shrugged, as if he knew all about it and was having the same problems himself.
“The conference starts in a week,” Petty said. “Due to last just four days. So the whole business can’t last any longer than twelve days. America is sending an official delegation, so we have access to all the security arrangements being considered by the Spanish: routes, timings, everything. It won’t need the usual reconnaissance.”
“Operation,” “assignment,” “business,” O’Farrell noted: all the meaningless ambiguities to avoid the real word, “murder.” Flatly he said, “I don’t want to do it.” He waited for an emotion: fear, at the awareness of how the refusal would affect him, relief, at finally saying it after so much agonizing, so much doubt. He didn’t feel anything at all and was positively disappointed. Petty was not looking at him. Instead the man’s attention was entirely upon Erickson.
Petty said, “You were right.”
Erickson shrugged a so-what shrug but didn’t say anything.
O’Farrell, misunderstanding, supposed it was obvious that the two men would have discussed his reaction before his arrival that morning. Wanting to fill the strangely embarrassing silence, he said, “After what happened in London, what else did you expect me to say?”
There was an odd expression on Petty’s face when he looked back to O’Farrell, as if he had forgotten that the man was even in the room. The blankness went, but there did not appear to be full recognition. Petty said, “This isn’t going to sound right … not sound right at all.”
“I don’t understand,” O’Farrell said, confused.
Petty gestured toward his deputy. “He warned me it wouldn’t sound right if I did it this way. But I didn’t want to make it seem like a condition. I thought you’d agree, you see. Then it would have come out altogether differently. Now it won’t; no way.”
“I really don’t understand a word you’re saying,” O’Farrell protested, bewildered.
Petty selected one of the carved-bowl pipes tidily racked on his desk, lighted up, and emitted thunderclouds of smoke. O’Farrell thought what a useful ploy it was for delaying a discussion. The pipe going, Petty said, “There is no other way of saying it, except straight out.”
“I’d like that,” O’Farrell said.
It wasn’t, however, Petty who began. From his window-sill perch Erickson said, “There’s been a big personnel review at Langley, covering all the departments.…”
“Including ours …” Petty said, on cue. “There’s going to be a lot of changes: dead wood cut away, a lot of reshuffling.…”
“And you feature on the list.…” Erickson said.
The speed of his being dumped surprised O’Farrell. He knew that it was to be expected, because of his refusal, but he’d imagined there would be some cosmetic interim period, a week or two before the hidden privileges began to be stripped away. He tried to think of something to say but couldn’t.
“High on more than one list,” Petty said. “For all our secrecy and deniability, there’s a lot of respect for you … a lot of respect.”
It sounded just like the enforced-retirement speech O’Farrell suspected it to be: before presenting the much-deserved gold watch, the managing director talked at length of dedication and loyalty over many years.… The difference here was that the speech was in stereo, from two speakers. And there wasn’t going to be any gold watch. Feeling he should contribute something, O’Farrell said, “That’s nice to know.”
“Which is going to be recognized …” Erickson announced. The man’s swinging heel scuffed another black smear among all the others, a shape vaguely resembling a question mark.
“How’d you feel about working here?” Petty asked. “Permanently here, I mean. With Don and me.”
O’Farrell looked from one man to the other, his initial, irrational thought how unusual it was to hear Petty refer to the other man by his Christian name. Frowning, he said, “But I
Petty smiled. “Ever wonder why Chris Winton was never replaced as second deputy?”
The asthmatic bachelor who’d been the third member of the group when he’d first joined the department, O’Farrell remembered. He said, “A long time ago. I supposed there was a good enough reason that was none of my business.”
“There was a good enough reason.…” Erickson started.
“And now it’s very much your business,” Petty finished. “Winton wasn’t replaced because there was no one good enough, no one with the necessary mental strength and qualifications to fill the position. The feeling at Langley is that there is, now; that you should get the job.”
O’Farrell was astonished and had to call upon every last bit of his training not to show it. His mind raced. He would no longer be in the field, no longer required to kill. The most important consideration. No reduction in his income. Essential, with all the family demands. No abrupt overseas trips, so he’d always be available to sort out Ellen’s problems. What about drawbacks? He didn’t think … And then he did, brought up with a jolt. He said, “No, it doesn’t come out right at all, does it?”
“I explained!” Petty insisted.
“So explain it some more,” O’Farrell said. “Has my promotion already been decided? Or does it depend upon my finishing the Rivera assignment? No Spain, no promotion?”
The looks were very obvious between Petty and Erickson. Petty poked into the bowl of his pipe with a pointed metal spike he took from the pipe rack. He said, “We’ve both been interviewed, separately and together. Both made it clear we very much want you on board.…”
“You’ve got to believe that!” Erickson said. “We really do want you here. It would be a terrific team.…”
“But no decision has been reached?” O’Farrell asked.
Petty shook his head. “No.”
“Nor will it be if I refuse the Rivera assignment?” Why had he been so contemptuous earlier of the ambiguities? Why didn’t he say “kill” or “murder”?
“That doesn’t necessarily follow,” Petty said. “It shouldn’t affect any decision.”
“Shouldn’t,” O’Farrell said. “But it will.”
“Not if I explain it properly. Which I will,” the division director promised.
So what was it? O’Farrell demanded of himself. A genuine although badly phrased invitation, for which Petty had already apologized? Or the ultimatum he’d accused them of presenting? As an ultimatum it had to be the clumsiest, most heavy-handed ever put forward in the history of ultimatums. So bad, in fact, that it practically supported the director’s apology for making the offer the wrong way around.
A loud silence built up in the room. Petty let his pipe go out and Erickson stopped swinging his leg. Both looked at O’Farrell, obviously expecting a response. O’Farrell looked back at them, wishing he could think of one but not able to. because there was so much at so many different levels to consider and decide upon. It was Petty who broke.
“That’s the best I can do.” The man shrugged. “I’ll make the strongest pitch I can. Okay?”
“When?” O’Farrell asked, speaking at last.
“When?” Petty frowned.
“When do you have to make this strong pitch?”
“There’s a meeting penciled in for Friday. I guess that’s when it’ll be. I haven’t heard any differently.”
Three days’ time, O’Farrell thought. “I just can’t do it; not after what happened in London. It’s—” He stopped, seeking the right way to express himself. “I don’t know. I just can’t do it.…”
“Your personal decision,” Petty said. “That’s the way it’s always been.…”
“Always will be,” Erickson said. “You going back to Chicago tomorrow?”
“Sometime,” O’Farrell agreed. Why the vagueness? He had a confirmed reservation on a noon flight.
“Hope everything turns out all right,” Petty said. “Don’t forget: if there’s anything we can do, just ask.”
O’Farrell didn’t catch that noon flight. After the interview at Lafayette Square he drank more than he had for a long time. He took the martini pitcher into the den of the Alexandria house and sat in head-sunk reflection, making and unmaking decisions until it became difficult to rationalize at all. But not because of the booze. O’Farrell still felt
