“This is being kept nice and safe, a long way from you,” he said. “I drugged the old man, that’s why he’s been talking. The drug’s called
Reeve sought the right button and turned the recorder off. He wound it back a little and pressed Play. Peering into the viewfinder again, he saw his own face, muddy but definable. His voice came from the small built-in speaker.
“You can check on it. You might even want your R & D people to-”
Satisfied, he switched off the camera and laid it on the passenger seat. “Dr. Killin,” he said, “I’m going to take you back now.”
They drove in silence, Killin nodding off in the backseat, his head sliding lower and lower down the backrest. Reeve stopped the car three streets away from Killin’s bungalow, opened the passenger door, and pulled the back of the passenger seat down. Then he shook Killin awake.
“Get out of the car, Doctor. You’ll know where you are. Just walk home and go to bed. Get some sleep.”
Killin staggered out of the car like he was drunk. He stood up straight, staggered a little more, and looked around him like he was on the moon.
“Look at all the stars,” he said. There were plenty of them up there. “So many,” he said, “you’d never think you could poison them all.” He bent down to peer into the car. “But give us a chance and we’ll do it. There are hundreds of tons of space junk flying around up there already. That’s an excellent start, wouldn’t you say?”
Reeve closed the passenger door and drove off.
Dulwater sat on his bed, watching the television. He’d boosted the brightness and adjusted the color and contrast. There was nothing wrong with the sound. Dr. Killin was on the screen, saying his piece. Dulwater was watching the performance for the third time, and saying “This is fucking unbelievable” for the seventh or eighth.
The tape that was playing was simultaneously being recorded onto the third blank tape of a box of five.
“Fucking unbelievable,” Dulwater said.
Reeve watched the tape counter. Dulwater’s room was three floors down from his own. He’d been nervous coming here, but none of the staff had recognized him. It was a big hotel after all, and he’d done nothing to make himself memorable.
“Of course,” Dulwater said, “you could never use this in a court of law. Killin’s obviously been drugged.”
“You already said we’d never get Kosigin into a courtroom anyway.”
“Well, that’s true, too.”
“I don’t particularly
They’d come to the bit where Killin asked if Reeve didn’t want to hear about Preece.
“Anyway,” said Reeve, “what do you care? You’ve got what you wanted right there. Your boss compiled one of his famous dossiers on the dark side of Owen Preece’s history, and this opened Preece up to blackmail.”
“Yes.”
“You should be happy. You’ve got something on your boss.”
“I suppose so.” Dulwater swung off the bed and went to the table. He had a bottle of whiskey there, and helped himself to another glass. Reeve had already refused twice, and wasn’t going to be given a third chance. “What about you?” Dulwater asked between gulps. “What’re you going to do with the tapes?”
“One for me, and one for Kosigin.”
“What’s the point of sending him one?”
“So he knows I know.”
“So what? He’ll only send that buttfuck Jay after you.”
Reeve smiled. “Exactly.”
“Doesn’t that bastard have a surname?” Dulwater sounded three-fifths drunk.
“Jay is his surname.”
“You really know him then?”
“I know him. Tell me again about the bar.”
Dulwater smiled. “Half the damned police department must have been there. You told McCluskey you wanted one on one? You got a hundred on one. Cars, vans, armed to the teeth. Man, he was ready for you and then some. You should have seen how angry he was when he figured it was a no-show. And his pals weren’t too happy with him either.”
“He’ll be worse when he finds out I’ve walked into Killin’s house after he pulled the guard away.”
“Oh, yeah, he’ll pop some blood vessels. And then Kosigin’ll pop
“I hope so.”
The tape was coming to its end, Reeve’s face on the screen. Dulwater finished his drink and crouched in front of the machine. “You know, Gordon, I called the Radisson. I thought it was pretty dumb of you to stay in the same place you stayed last trip. But you’re not that dumb, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” Reeve said. He was right behind Dulwater, arms stretched out, when Dulwater stood up. As Dulwater turned, slowed by the alcohol, Reeve brought his hands together in what would have been a sharp clap, had Dulwater’s ears not been in the way. Dulwater’s face creased in sudden excruciating pain, and his balance went. He bounced off the bed and crumpled onto the floor, trying his best to rise again quickly.
Reeve kicked him once in the head and that dropped him.
“No, I’m not,” he repeated quietly, standing over Dulwater. He didn’t think he’d hit him hard enough to burst an eardrum. But then it wasn’t what you’d call an exact science. The Nietz-sche quote came to him: “Must one first shatter their ears to teach them to hear with their eyes?” Well, maybe he was one of Nietzsche’s gentlemen after all.
He spent a few minutes getting everything ready. Then he called McCluskey.
“Hey, McCluskey,” he said.
“You sonofabitch, where were you? I waited hours.”
“Well, leastways you weren’t lonely.”
There was a pause. “What do you mean?”
“I mean all your boyfriends.”
Another pause, then a sigh. “All right, Gordon, I admit it-but listen, and this is a friend speaking now, you’re on Interpol’s list, man. It came through after we spoke. The French police want to talk to you about some murders. Hell, when I read that I didn’t know what to think.”
“Nice story, McCluskey.”
“Now wait-”
“I’m gone.”
Reeve dropped the receiver onto the bed. He could hear McCluskey asking if anyone was still there. To drop a bigger hint, Reeve put the TV volume up. It was the insomniacs’ shopping channel. It would take McCluskey time to trace the call, once he figured the phone had been left off the hook. Time enough for Reeve to check out of the hotel and into another. He took three copies of the video with him, leaving just the one.
He knew that if McCluskey and Dulwater sat down to watch the video together, they might find out it was better all around to destroy it. Or rather, McCluskey would want it destroyed, and he’d tell Dulwater that if he didn’t let him destroy it, then Mr. Allerdyce might be appraised of the situation-such as what Gordon Reeve had been doing phoning from Dulwater’s hotel room, and what part Dulwater had played in the videotaping…
So in all, Reeve felt he needed three copies. One for himself, one for Kosigin.
And one just to let Allerdyce know the score.
