…’
‘Well, I would,’ I said loudly. ‘And behind all three there is the paternal Mr Henry Smith. When we finally get something out of the submarine the canister is empty except for a piece of paper money. Out of this American clown’s shirt comes another bill within a dozen serial numbers of it.’
‘Yes, that was convenient,’ said Dawlish.
‘Convenient is the word,’ I said, ‘it stinks.’
‘A …’ Dawlish hesitated, ‘… a frame-up,’ he said very proudly.
‘What’s that mean?’ I asked.
‘It’s an expression that American …’ then he saw me grinning and he frowned. I went on, ‘Then finally da Cunha gives me a long lecture about old Portuguese customs like he’s the Horizon Holidays man and this die, and says it’s for a Mr Smith.’
‘So what do you conclude?’ asked Dawlish.
‘I don’t conclude anything,’ I said, ‘but if I see a man with a Union Jack in his buttonhole wearing a deerstalker I begin to wonder if he’s trying to convince me about his national characteristics, and I wonder why.’
‘What about the canister and the grave?’ Dawlish asked.
‘I’m hoping that the canister isn’t as empty as it looks,’ I said.
‘And the grave?’
‘Was never full,’ I said, ‘just a hole in the ground.’
‘I trust you can tell a grave from a hole in the ground,’ said Dawlish sardonically. He was staring out of the window. ‘There’s a new instruction about your diving,’ he said without turning round. I said nothing. ‘Foreign Office is not interested in the currency any more.’ Outside on the window-sill a starling was getting itself a lungful of diesel smoke.
‘O’Brien isn’t interested in the money,’ Dawlish said again.
‘He’s swinging with the syntax,’ I said, ‘but he’s forcing the story line.’
Dawlish tried to touch his nose with his tongue. He said, ‘If there are any containers that might hold scientific papers you are to send them to the Embassy people unopened.’
‘How do I find out what’s inside if I don’t open them? Did they tell you that?’
‘Unopened,’ said Dawlish.
‘So they are worried about the ice-melting stuff after all.’
‘Ice-melting,’ said Dawlish, ‘who mentioned ice-melting? You’ve got ice-melting on the brain. The only ice-melting equipment that they are interested in is a glass of Johnny Walker.’
‘All right,’ I said, ‘now try and see this from my point of view. The political people at Lisbon tell us that they’d like this job done and give it a BB8requirement importance. * They tell us they’ve chosen us because it must be completely undercover as far as the Portuguese Government are concerned; that means that I can’t check properly on all these people: da Cunha, Harry Kondit and this small-time éminence grise Fernandes Tomas without risking a leak. You know what will happen the minute I ask 37 † for a shred of information – every phone in Lisbon will ring.’
‘Well,’ said Dawlish, ‘I can understand their point of view; they don’t want to upset anyone.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘exactly. Now that’s the Embassy position as a rule, isn’t it? Not to upset anyone. Don’t upset all the good work we’re doing – all that crap. Now doesn’t it strike you as odd that the Embassy people at Lisbon not only egg us into this set-up and tell us , mark you, not to let the Portuguese know that we are doing anything down there, but they are all bright smiles and elevator shoes about it. Send us this Singleton character and this girl.’
‘Well,’ said Dawlish, ‘what do you want me to do about Singleton?’
‘Give him back to the Ovaltineys,’ I said.
‘Now then,’ said Dawlish, ‘don’t start on that again. I know you don’t believe it but I’ve checkedthose answers myself. Absolutely nothing. Singleton may be what you call “a jerk”, but he’s just a junior assistant to the naval attaché and he’s as normal as income tax. Prep, school, Dartmouth,
‘Well, I would,’ I said loudly. ‘And behind all three there is the paternal Mr Henry Smith. When we finally get something out of the submarine the canister is empty except for a piece of paper money. Out of this American clown’s shirt comes another bill within a dozen serial numbers of it.’
‘Yes, that was convenient,’ said Dawlish.
‘Convenient is the word,’ I said, ‘it stinks.’
‘A …’ Dawlish hesitated, ‘… a frame-up,’ he said very proudly.
‘What’s that mean?’ I asked.
‘It’s an expression that American …’ then he saw me grinning and he frowned. I went on, ‘Then finally da Cunha gives me a long lecture about old Portuguese customs like he’s the Horizon Holidays man and this die, and says it’s for a Mr Smith.’
‘So what do you conclude?’ asked Dawlish.
‘I don’t conclude anything,’ I said, ‘but if I see a man with a Union Jack in his buttonhole wearing a deerstalker I begin to wonder if he’s trying to convince me about his national characteristics, and I wonder why.’
‘What about the canister and the grave?’ Dawlish asked.
‘I’m hoping that the canister isn’t as empty as it looks,’ I said.
‘And the grave?’
‘Was never full,’ I said, ‘just a hole in the ground.’
‘I trust you can tell a grave from a hole in the ground,’ said Dawlish sardonically. He was staring out of the window. ‘There’s a new instruction about your diving,’ he said without turning round. I said nothing. ‘Foreign Office is not interested in the currency any more.’ Outside on the window-sill a starling was getting itself a lungful of diesel smoke.
‘O’Brien isn’t interested in the money,’ Dawlish said again.
‘He’s swinging with the syntax,’ I said, ‘but he’s forcing the story line.’
Dawlish tried to touch his nose with his tongue. He said, ‘If there are any containers that might hold scientific papers you are to send them to the Embassy people unopened.’
‘How do I find out what’s inside if I don’t open them? Did they tell you that?’
‘Unopened,’ said Dawlish.
‘So they are worried about the ice-melting stuff after all.’
‘Ice-melting,’ said Dawlish, ‘who mentioned ice-melting? You’ve got ice-melting on the brain. The only ice-melting equipment that they are interested in is a glass of Johnny Walker.’
‘All right,’ I said, ‘now try and see this from my point of view. The political people at Lisbon tell us that they’d like this job done and give it a BB8requirement importance. * They tell us they’ve chosen us because it must be completely undercover as far as the Portuguese Government are concerned; that means that I can’t check properly on all these people: da Cunha, Harry Kondit and this small-time éminence grise Fernandes Tomas without risking a leak. You know what will happen the minute I ask 37 † for a shred of information – every phone in Lisbon will ring.’
‘Well,’ said Dawlish, ‘I can understand their point of view; they don’t want to upset anyone.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘exactly. Now that’s the Embassy position as a rule, isn’t it? Not to upset anyone. Don’t upset all the good work we’re doing – all that crap. Now doesn’t it strike you as odd that the Embassy people at Lisbon not only egg us into this set-up and tell us , mark you, not to let the Portuguese know that we are doing anything down there, but they are all bright smiles and elevator shoes about it. Send us this Singleton character and this girl.’
‘Well,’ said Dawlish, ‘what do you want me to do about Singleton?’
‘Give him back to the Ovaltineys,’ I said.
‘Now then,’ said Dawlish, ‘don’t start on that again. I know you don’t believe it but I’ve checkedthose answers myself. Absolutely nothing. Singleton may be what you call “a jerk”, but he’s just a junior assistant to the naval attaché and he’s as normal as income tax. Prep, school, Dartmouth,
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