‘It was eleven in the morning and Kim was resting on the bar. You came in and rescued him — rather too keenly, for my liking. None of us bothered that much about Kim’s drinking. He had remarkable powers of recovery.’
‘Yes, he was very curious in that respect.’ Hann turned the tap of the samovar and the tea spurted out dark and boiling. He waited till the mug was a third full, then shut it off. ‘You said that somebody thought you might have an interest in this French deal? Would you mind telling me who it was?’ He handed the tea to Cayle, then slid a second mug under the spout and jerked the handle again.
Cayle said: ‘An Englishman called Leonard Maddox. Works for Charles Pol. I expect you know him?’
‘What makes you think I know either of them?’ said Hann icily.
‘Because Maddox told me you do — told me you met Pol up on the Lenin Hills a few weeks back.’
‘Maddox is a crook. Or didn’t you know that?’
‘Well, he’s trying to flog me some info that he says he’s got from Pol, and which involves you, among others. And he’s asking for a thousand bucks, which he says is cheap at the price.’
‘I see.’ Hann gazed across the crowded hall where the listless diplomatic ritual was being resuscitated by a series of toasts. ‘But he hasn’t yet told you what it is?’
‘He’s promised to call me before six tomorrow evening.’
Hann winced as he sipped the scalding tea. ‘And you’re prepared to do business?’
‘I’m prepared to listen to what he’s got to say.’
‘Yes, well that would be reasonable, under the circumstances. The trouble is, Mr Cayle, you might also learn something that would put you in a highly sensitive position.’
‘I’ll risk that,’ said Cayle. ‘You know, of course, what Maddox’s going to tell me?’
Hann gave him a prim smile. ‘I suggest you let Maddox earn his thousand dollars. Though personally, I wouldn’t trust him with a two-kopek piece.’
‘If he’s a crook, why do the Russians put up with him? Or for that matter, why does Pol?’
‘Isn’t there a proverb about letting the small fish catch the big fish? The Russians will pick him up in due course, and no doubt the Embassy will have to speak up in his favour.’
‘And you wouldn’t like that?’
‘It would be tiresome. People like Maddox always are. As for you, I advise you to treat anything Maddox tells you with a good measure of scepticism.’
‘I’m not a fool, Hann.’
‘I hope not.’ He flicked an invisible speck from his cuff and said, ‘Listen to what Maddox has to tell you tomorrow. It may be rubbish, but whatever it is, I’d like to know. And if you’ve got scruples about talking to me afterwards, just remember that I know a lot more about this affair than either you or Maddox. I also have a lot more influence. You may be entering a very dangerous area, Cayle. I just hope, for your own sake, that you don’t attempt to act alone.’
He was interrupted by a small fat Russian who had been standing with a crowd some yards away, and who suddenly came cantering backwards across the floor, cannoned off Hann’s shoulder, splashing tea down the diplomat’s trousers, and came to rest with a crash of glass against a double-glazed french window.
A waiter strolled over and kicked the glass under a curtain, but left the man where he was lying.
Hann had whisked the handkerchief out of his top pocket and was wiping down his trousers. ‘Drunken fool!’ he muttered.
‘Philby hates it too,’ said Cayle. ‘In fact, he hates it so much, I’ve an idea he’d like to get out, if he could.’
‘A journalist’s pipe-dream,’ said Hann. ‘Of course he can’t. The Russians would never let him go. And anyway, even if they did, where would he go to?’
‘A place in the sun where the drinks are cheap and the cops look the other way. A banana republic probably.’
Hann shook his head. ‘Too close to the CIA.’
‘Well, perhaps one of the Arab countries — one that isn’t too tight on the booze.’
‘Too close to the Russians.’
‘And you think the Russians would go after him?’
Hann shrugged. ‘The British, the Americans, the Russians — what does it matter?’
‘It would matter to Philby,’ said Cayle. ‘Or perhaps it wouldn’t. Tell me something, Mr Hann — what would you have done back in Beirut if you’d been in Kim’s shoes?’
‘God forbid. You tell me.’
‘I’d have kept a nice neat dossier, with all the names, dates and details, on my former colleagues and accomplices in the FO and SIS, and perhaps a few other corners of the great British Establishment. And I’d have put that dossier in a Swiss bank, with instructions to a discreet Swiss lawyer for it to be published in the event of my arrest or violent death — including accidents.’
Hann stepped away from him and said softly, ‘You’re even more naïve than I thought, Cayle. You’re playing in Leonard Maddox’s league now, and when things go wrong — as they’re bound to go wrong — you’re going to have no one to blame but yourself, and what’s more, no one to help you.’
Cayle leant out and tapped the belly of the samovar. ‘It’s just occurred to me — it might be a bit unfortunate if this conversation’s
