your best to find out, Martin-my-friend. And quickly. If you don’t, I will not be so…helpful in future. I might have to alter the nature of our relationship.” He changed his tone. “You have been a very useful agent, Martin. Who would suspect a Stanford Professor who fled Hungary in his youth to be a Colonel in the KGB? And in these days, too. We have few agents with so flawless a cover. It is this very usefulness of yours that has convinced me not to question the occasional assistance you ask of the KGB; still, I can’t help but regard all requests with…suspicion is too strong a word, but I believe it makes my point.”
Right between the ribs, thought Martin, who had few illusions about what lay beneath Dmitri’s courteously smooth exterior. “Dmitri, no one is more perturbed by this than I. You have my word that I will devote time and effort to learning more about this woman. I promise you.” He could hear rising panic in his voice but told himself that Dmitri could not possibly be aware of it. And he knew he was lying to himself
“You are a reliable and persevering fellow, Martin,” said Dmitri. “You’ve handled puzzling situations before, like that biological experiment back in California. No one ever traced the information to you or anyone near you. You remember how pleased we all were. I know you’re capable of doing it again. It would be useful for us to know what the Church wants from this woman. Shall we say by this time next week? I’m afraid I must ask you to give us a little more than your usual excellent report.” He was silent for a carefully calculated three seconds. “If you can’t do this, I doubt I can continue to protect you as I’ve done in the past.”
“I see,” said Martin Bell, feeling his bones go cold. “Rest assured, I’ll give it my highest priority.”
“Exactly.” Three more interminable seconds went by. “Next week, then. Good luck with your researches.”
Martin said his adieux to an empty line.
* * *
They arrived in Hong Kong at three a.m. with as little fuss as possible: Cardinal Mendosa had traveled in what he called his civvies and was no more remarkable than any other fifty-seven-year-old business man in first class. Willie Foot had already arranged for Dame Leonie Purcell to send a car for them, and the local Bishop had been warned with regrets that Cardinal Mendosa was on urgent and private business, and was unavailable to him. Very few of the reporters who lay in wait at the airport were around at that hour, and so Willie and Cardinal Mendosa were on their way almost without incident.
One Chinese paparazzo tried to get pictures of the two men, but Willie had too many years’ experience to be caught in the flash. He moved quickly, blocking Cardinal Mendosa entirely as they both got into the limousine; he closed the door before the frustrated fellow could try for a second shot.
Dame Leonie Purcell was waiting for them, a light tea much the same as she had served to Liang laid out, though it was more appropriate for four in the afternoon than four in the morning. Aside from faint shadows under her large, burnt-toast-colored eyes, there was nothing about her dress or behavior to suggest there was anything unusual about the hour or occasion of their meeting. After Hastings left them alone she turned to Cardinal Mendosa and offered him a plate of scones. “We have clotted cream, of course, and preserves.”
“This is excellent,” said Cardinal Mendosa. “I am truly most appreciative, Dame Leonie.”
“Thank you, Your Eminence.” She looked over toward Willie Foot. “Was it a good flight?”
Willie always found it difficult to make small-talk with Leonie. He nodded several times, and was relieved when Cardinal Mendosa took over for him. “We had a few bumps, naturally. You kind of expect that, coming so far. But for the most part it was uneventful. They had two movies and an endless parade of advertisements to entertain us.” He glanced over
Right between the ribs, thought Martin, who had few illusions about what lay beneath Dmitri’s courteously smooth exterior. “Dmitri, no one is more perturbed by this than I. You have my word that I will devote time and effort to learning more about this woman. I promise you.” He could hear rising panic in his voice but told himself that Dmitri could not possibly be aware of it. And he knew he was lying to himself
“You are a reliable and persevering fellow, Martin,” said Dmitri. “You’ve handled puzzling situations before, like that biological experiment back in California. No one ever traced the information to you or anyone near you. You remember how pleased we all were. I know you’re capable of doing it again. It would be useful for us to know what the Church wants from this woman. Shall we say by this time next week? I’m afraid I must ask you to give us a little more than your usual excellent report.” He was silent for a carefully calculated three seconds. “If you can’t do this, I doubt I can continue to protect you as I’ve done in the past.”
“I see,” said Martin Bell, feeling his bones go cold. “Rest assured, I’ll give it my highest priority.”
“Exactly.” Three more interminable seconds went by. “Next week, then. Good luck with your researches.”
Martin said his adieux to an empty line.
* * *
They arrived in Hong Kong at three a.m. with as little fuss as possible: Cardinal Mendosa had traveled in what he called his civvies and was no more remarkable than any other fifty-seven-year-old business man in first class. Willie Foot had already arranged for Dame Leonie Purcell to send a car for them, and the local Bishop had been warned with regrets that Cardinal Mendosa was on urgent and private business, and was unavailable to him. Very few of the reporters who lay in wait at the airport were around at that hour, and so Willie and Cardinal Mendosa were on their way almost without incident.
One Chinese paparazzo tried to get pictures of the two men, but Willie had too many years’ experience to be caught in the flash. He moved quickly, blocking Cardinal Mendosa entirely as they both got into the limousine; he closed the door before the frustrated fellow could try for a second shot.
Dame Leonie Purcell was waiting for them, a light tea much the same as she had served to Liang laid out, though it was more appropriate for four in the afternoon than four in the morning. Aside from faint shadows under her large, burnt-toast-colored eyes, there was nothing about her dress or behavior to suggest there was anything unusual about the hour or occasion of their meeting. After Hastings left them alone she turned to Cardinal Mendosa and offered him a plate of scones. “We have clotted cream, of course, and preserves.”
“This is excellent,” said Cardinal Mendosa. “I am truly most appreciative, Dame Leonie.”
“Thank you, Your Eminence.” She looked over toward Willie Foot. “Was it a good flight?”
Willie always found it difficult to make small-talk with Leonie. He nodded several times, and was relieved when Cardinal Mendosa took over for him. “We had a few bumps, naturally. You kind of expect that, coming so far. But for the most part it was uneventful. They had two movies and an endless parade of advertisements to entertain us.” He glanced over
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