Dead End by Brian Freemantle Page A

to discuss with Newton. Not even, he thought, with Johnson. There were special people he employed for special things.
    â€˜What then?’
    â€˜Just finish off what you’ve got to …’ Grant brightened. ‘Looks like France came up with a good one. Had the figures calculated. We stop the piracy, reduce it even, in Africa and Asia, we could save as much as ten million dollars in a full year. And that could even translate into a matching loss to our opposition, if they become the alternative targets. That’s a damned good day’s work …’ There was an abrupt reflective darkening. ‘And why it isn’t going to be jeopardized …’
    â€˜You want security to go on watching her?’
    â€˜Keep the telephone taps on, throughout the department. Hers particularly. And obviously keep an eye on Parnell. Leave me to worry about everything else. And Dwight…?’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜You’re doing a hell of a good job.’
    That morning Newton didn’t make the mistake of trying to leave through the wrong door.
    â€˜Sorry I haven’t got back to you before now,’ apologized Newton.
    â€˜Not a lot for us to discuss so far,’ accepted Parnell.
    â€˜Enough,’ said the vice president. ‘You seem to have everything parcelled up pretty efficiently.’ Newton hadn’t set out intending this meeting. His mind hadn’t gone beyond the New York encounter and what there was to discuss with Edward C. Grant. It was only afterwards, on the return Washington shuttle, when he was still very much thinking of that discussion and Grant’s numbing cynicism during it – and of his openly being named on the security eavesdrop – that the idea came of personally speaking to Parnell. And trying to assess what suspicion or curiosity the Englishman might disclose.
    â€˜Still a long way to go.’ Why the sudden summons, after playing the invisible man?
    â€˜Looks to me like you’re working to an agenda.’
    â€˜Trying to create one that’s practical,’ qualified Parnell. ‘I thought the best initial contribution we might try was on some of the most current research, to complete an entire package.’
    Was that a veiled reference to Paris? ‘Sounds a sensible approach. How many have you got in mind?’
    Parnell was sure he prevented the frown. ‘Those that I’ve already memoed you about.’
    â€˜Sure,’ said Newton, awkwardly, gesturing to a disordered pile of paper on his desk. ‘You think there’s anything likely?’
    â€˜Nothing that’s leapt out of the petrie dish at us, but then we neither of us expect Archimedes-style discoveries, do we?’
    Newton forced the smile, sure the other man was mocking him. ‘Still be nice.’
    â€˜The exchange system appears to be working well, between Russell’s section and mine.’
    That had to be a reference to France. ‘Sure you won’t be overwhelmed?’
    â€˜No,’ answered Parnell, honestly. ‘That’s why we’re working to an agenda, trying to keep up to speed with what’s ongoing, allowing space to go back to earlier stuff when we’re able.’
    He had to force it along, Newton decided. ‘I’m afraid Russ has been a little preoccupied lately. Me, too.’
    â€˜He told me.’ The quick halt was intentional, to lure Newton into saying more.
    â€˜Turned out to be a waste of time. It’s all being scrapped,’ insisted Newton.
    Parnell didn’t believe Newton any more than he’d believed Russell Benn. ‘Gastrointestinal is where pharmacogenomics might have a real place.’
    The son of a bitch was trying to trick him! ‘It was respiratory. A decongestant.’
    â€˜Of course! Russell told me. My mistake.’
    â€˜You think of any way things could be improved for you?’
    â€˜I don’t think so,’ said Parnell. ‘Might