record upon our files is being checked: those of friendly Allied countries as well. You’ll understand it is a very large undertaking.’
‘Staggering, I would imagine,’ said Charlie. ‘But I wouldn’t think she works for any hostile East bloc government. I thought she was a nice little girl.’
‘What!’ asked Harkness, dry-throated again.
‘Sally Dickenson,’ said Charlie. ‘That was what was on the name-plate, at least. Like I said, nice little girl. Bites her fingernails, though.’
‘Charlie, you’re not making sense,’ protested Wilson.
‘I will, sir. I will,’ promised Charlie. Wilson had used his first name, he isolated. ‘Nothing else?’ he demanded from Witherspoon.
Witherspoon’s confusion was increasing. He stared imploringly towards Harkness and then down at his files and then back up at Charlie. He shook his head and said unevenly: ‘No. No, nothing.’
‘Let’s try some letters and figures,’ suggested Charlie. ‘How about B77 345113 and B78 345114 and B79 235115 and so on.’
Witherspoon shook his head, baffled. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.
‘Then look at the forensic report!’ said Charlie remorselessly. ‘They’re experts. They don’t make the sort of mistakes that you do. There
‘Oh yes. Yes, I’m sorry,’ agreed Witherspoon at once. ‘I didn’t think you meant that…I didn’t…’
‘No,’ seized Charlie. ‘You didn’t think, did you! No one’s thought, from the very beginning.’
‘What’s this proving, except your undeniable guilt?’ intruded Harkness in a weak attempt to help his protege.
Charlie chose to ignore the question, openly showing his contempt. ‘So!’ he pressed on. ‘The numbers of the notes are listed, aren’t they? And they’re consecutive, aren’t they?’
‘Yes,’ said Witherspoon. ‘Yes, they are.’
‘Are we soon getting to the point of this?’ sighed Wilson.
‘Please, sir!’ pleaded Charlie. ‘Not long now. Just let me have a few more minutes.’
‘A very few more minutes,’ cautioned Wilson.
Charlie turned back to Harkness. ‘Some time ago – months ago, in fact – you made me the subject of an official internal inquiry?’
‘I have already referred to that. And given my reasons for initiating it.’
‘There was a period of surveillance?’
‘Naturally.’
Charlie had to turn, to encompass Smedley and Abbott, before coming back to the deputy director. ‘My mother, who is senile and confined to a nursing home, was even subjected to interrogation?’
Harkness couldn’t withstand Charlie’s unblinking stare. The deputy director looked away and said: ‘There was considered proper reason.’
‘Considered by whom?’
‘Do I really have to undergo this sort of questioning!’ protested Harkness.
‘I’d appreciate your cooperation,’ said Wilson. ‘There appears to be a great deal here that needs explanation.’
‘Considered by me,’ admitted Harkness.
‘Why?’ persisted Charlie.
‘I have always been suspicious of your time in Moscow, although you were supposed to be on assignment on behalf of this department, and you were subsequently allowed to return to it. To which I have already made reference. It was conceivable you might have discussed something of that visit – something incriminating – with your mother.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Charlie, genuinely astonished. ‘The possibility of my discussing anything – incriminating or otherwise – with a mentally confused person is utterly
‘I subsequently acknowledged that it was perhaps excessive,’ reminded Harkness. ‘Very little else has proved to be.’
Charlie was conscious of Wilson’s shift of impatience. Quickly he said to Witherspoon, ‘You have among those folders the results of my most recent assessment examinations?’
‘Yes.’
‘Pull out just one marking for me,’ asked Charlie. ‘What was the adjudication for surveillance and observation, both detected and performed?’
‘Really!’ Wilson protested.
‘In a very few moments I will be talking about a Soviet agent who
‘Reply to the question,’ the Director General ordered Witherspoon urgently.
‘Your rating for both is graded as excellent. Ninety-five per cent for detected surveillance, ninety-four for that which you conducted.’
Had he missed anything? wondered Charlie. He didn’t think so, not at this stage. There would always be time to pick up and elaborate later. He faced the committee and the frowning Director General and said: ‘When I finished the assessment course I was almost at once assigned to an inquiry upon the Isle of Wight, at a factory engaged on a joint development project with a Californian firm. The work is connected with the American Strategic Defence Initiative, Star Wars. A man named Blackstone, who is officially employed as a tracer although not on the secret project, had been found in suspicious circumstances. A company inquiry had already dismissed the matter as having no security risk. I was not satisfied, for reasons I shall make clear at the eventual prosecution…’
‘… Prosecution!’ broke in Harkness. ‘You told me – your report says – that the man was beyond suspicion.’
‘No I did not,’ corrected Charlie. ‘Read the file. I said that during the time I observed him he did not behave in a suspicious manner. There were things that made me curious, however. His attitude swung between extremes. He confessed to being a bigamist – which I admit did initially throw me in the wrong direction – but then, when I’d apparently accepted it as an explanation for his nervousness, never mentioned it again. He should have kept on about my reporting him to the police, for the crime. But he didn’t. I even protracted the interview on the last day, to give him the opportunity. He didn’t take it. And that second day he was much more confident. There were small discrepancies, too. He said he didn’t know the sort of work going on, for instance, when it had been generally reported…’ Charlie paused, smiling but in mockery towards Harkness. ‘That’s why I decided to stay on. I got to thinking: What is the most important thing a bigamist needs? And decided it was money. Which would make him an ideal target in a situation where there were secrets that the Russians might be interested in. So I watched. Like I said, there was nothing positively suspicious. But there was an episode with a telephone. It was a public kiosk, quite close to his home, yet he used it and not his own, so very close. I could not get near enough to identify the number he called but I could certainly see that he started from the bottom and the very top of the dial, so it had to be a London number prefixed by zero one. He followed by seven more digits, which further indicates it was a London connection…’
‘… There is no log, no file note of this whatsoever. That is directly contrary to procedure,’ cut in Harkness. ‘How much more self-admission are we going to need from this man!’
‘I agree with you,’ said Charlie, before Wilson could speak. ‘I contravened regulations, which I concede was wrong. But by this time other strange things were happening and I considered the course I took justified. As I said, Blackstone clearly called a London number. He spoke briefly, because I saw him. And then hung around the kiosk for about fifteen minutes – when his own house and his own telephone were less than five minutes away – to call again. That was all. I kept him under the closest surveillance for the remainder of a week and at no time did he do anything to arouse the slightest suspicion…’
It was Harkness who broke in again. Intent across the table, believing he was improving his accusations, the deputy Director said: ‘Are you telling us that you’ve let a man you believe to be an agent continue working at an installation where the highest classified work is being carried out? And done nothing about it!’
‘No,’ said Charlie. ‘I emphatically impressed upon the English project leader that Blackstone under no
