unlike Jesso, Kator had a trick of thinking that his work was a service, as if his wealth were only a side issue to his work, as if there were some extra-human dedication to his energies. It gave Kator some imaginary edge, making no one his equal. He never flaunted it, but it was always part of his stance. It always worked, because the mark of the elite was seldom questioned.
“Reach me that coffeepot, Kator, will you?”
He pushed it over.
Jesso poured and said conversationally, “First I’ll tell you what I want, Kator, and then I’ll try to tell you what you want. Fair enough, Baron?”
“Jesso, if you imagine that delaying tactics-”
“You said you had nine days, didn’t you. Tell me, are you a baron?”
“Jesso-”
“I bet you’re a Nazi, though. You a Nazi, Kator?”
There was no answer.
“A Communist?”
When Jesso made no sign of interrupting, Kator took the time to answer.
“My business, Jesso, is conducted on a level where temporary political affiliations have no meaning. Not that I expect you to understand, but there are loyalties that transcend-“
“Why, Kator, you’re making a speech!”
It was true. Kator appeared angry and his eyebrows went up. Kator could raise his eyebrows without ever showing the upper lids. The heavy fold of skin over his eyes stayed down, making the face emotionless and calm.
Jesso laughed again. “You’re a Nazi either way, Kator, but like you said, right now we’ll have some bigger kinds of loyalties. Let’s talk about what I want.” Jesso crossed his legs and watched his foot bob up and down. “First of all, I get safe conduct. Where are we landing, Kator?”
“Hamburg.”
“I want off at Hamburg. I want five hundred bucks in one pocket and a passport in the other. And a visa. I think I need a visa. That’s cheap for what you’re getting, isn’t it?”
It was. Kator nodded because it was so cheap. “You can make a passport and so forth?”
“Of course.”
“I thought so. Well, sir, you fix me up, Baron, and once I’m safe on land I’ll tell you all. Fair enough, Baron?”
“You’ll tell me what?”
“I’m coming to that. Fair enough, Baron?”
“I agree.”
That was that part. And that’s how Jesso meant to play it. His foot stopped bobbing and he watched the tip of his shoe. Then he started to dip it up and down again.
“Now comes what you’ll be getting.”
Kator leaned forward a little while Jesso kept watching his foot.
“Kator,” he said, “I’m going to level with you.” He stopped dipping, uncrossed his legs, and leaned his arms on top of the table. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
The silence came down like a cloud of poisonous gas, invisible, but with a certain deathly presence. Kator’s blue eyes seemed to turn colorless and the shorn part of his skull was mottled red. Then he took a breath that sounded like an animal breaking through underbrush.
Jesso didn’t laugh this time and his voice was curt. “I don’t know what to tell you until I know what you’re after. You get my meaning?”
Kator held still. It was the tone of voice that made him listen, and he sat wary now, his fingertips feeling the tabletop with the stealth of a thief.
“I told you how I am, Kator. I get confused. Complicated stuff makes me confused. When I saw Joseph Snell, he was sick. Crazy with fear and out of his head with fever. He told me a million things that made no sense. Some he said once, and then he’d switch and talk about the moon. Other things he’d keep repeating over and over, and he’d say, ‘You get it now, can you remember-you see now what I meant?’ You’ve got to help me pick the right clue.”
Jesso saw Kator relax. His fingers stopped brushing the tabletop and his shoulders came down slightly. He had him. The story made sense and Kator had to take the chance.
“Well, let us begin.” Kator was sober now, just barely urgent. “Start with the first thing that occurred.”
Jesso almost laughed again. Kator would like that deal. He’d just love to sit there and sift the stuff, never letting on when the give-away came along, and then good-by, Jesso, hello, lobsters. Besides, what could he say? Tell Kator about Joe Snell’s first love with the village queen? About his dear old alma mater, Honeywell High?
“Kator, you’ve got to remember the man was out of his head. He was talking crazy. How could I remember all that? We’ll do it this way, Kator. Give me a picture of what goes on. Tell me your business, tell me what Snell might have wanted to say, and that way we’ll spot the gimmick in the mess. That way we’ll get somewhere.”
This time Kator did the smiling. He leaned back in his chair and pulled a cigar out of a leather case. The cigar was evenly round, without a band, and had a faint green color.
“My dear Jesso.” The cigar waved back and forth gently while Kator sniffed. “You’ve done well so far. You’ve changed within mere hours from a corpse in the Atlantic into a forceful executor of very expensive decisions. You have done all of the talking and now you even presume me stupid. Eh?”
“What in hell you talking about?”
“I should tell you what is so important in my mission? I should hand you information for which nations, continents might wish to go to war? Eh?”
“Eh, yes,” said Jesso. And he left it there.
In a short moment Kator stopped smiling. His face became a mask and the cigar held still, forgotten and pleasureless. It didn’t take Kator long to see he was licked. Without the clues he asked for, Jesso might never give him the vital information. The cigar snapped in half, making a papery sound. It had to be Jesso’s way. For now, at any event. Later, there were other ways; there were certainly other ways.
Kator decided fast, and he played the new role well.
“While I take another cigar, Jesso, you may begin your questions.”
“Who was Snell?”
“You mean, I’m sure, what was he to me?”
“Any way you want to put it, Baron.”
“Snell had worked with me for many years. But he was an American. And like you and all your countrymen, he was an opportunist. He tried to cheat me.”
“How?”
“Snell was in the States to transmit information. He was my courier. He had picked up the information as arranged and then decided not to deliver. Instead he meant to sell it himself.”
“That’s why he was scared to death?”
Kator shrugged. “He was, like many of his countrymen, a coward. I am not including you, dear Jesso,” and Kator gave a pleasant nod.
“So now we’re buddies.”
They exchanged smiles like two actors on a stage. “What was this hot news, Baron?”
“Jesso, that man Snell had been with me for twenty years. Not even Snell knew the meaning of the message.”
“Good for you.”
“What else would you like to know?”
“What’s your business, Baron?”
“Very simple. I deal in information.”
“Espionage?”
“Sometimes, Jesso.”
“This time, Kator?”
“This time, espionage.”
