See Charlie Run by Brian Freemantle

calm,’ he said. ‘It’s been something very obvious, from that first occasion in the theatre.’
    â€˜And that doesn’t strike you as unusual?’
    Fredericks’ caution returned. ‘I don’t follow?’
    â€˜He’s wants to quit being a murderer: presumably sickened and revulsed by it,’ challenged Charlie. ‘He wouldn’t be calm, surely? Particularly with the additional tension of planning as complicated a defection as this?’
    â€˜He’s a trained man,’ argued Fredericks.
    â€˜Who’s going against that training,’ said the Charlie. ‘Further cause to be nervous.’
    â€˜He is nervous!’ insisted the American. ‘I’ve told you about all the crap of separate meeting places and only he being the person able to make the contact.’
    â€˜That’s not nervousness,’ disputed Charlie. ‘That’s trained, professional caution. The opposite of nervousness, in fact.’
    â€˜I think you’re making too much of it.’
    â€˜I’m not making too much of anything,’ said Charlie. ‘I’m just trying to separate facts from impressions.’
    â€˜You’re getting all the facts,’ said Fredericks.
    Almost time for the drop, thought Charlie. He said: ‘How long has he been here, in Tokyo?’
    â€˜He said he arrived in late ‘83. It checks out with the diplomatic registration at the Japanese Foreign Ministry,’ said Fredericks.
    â€˜Before that?’
    â€˜He talked of London. And Bonn,’ said Fredericks, intent for an obvious reaction from the Englishman.
    There was none. Charlie remained quite unmoved and expressionless. He said: ‘What came from the checks of the diplomatic lists in both places?’
    â€˜Nothing,’ said Fredericks, disappointed. ‘No Kozlov listed in either place.’
    Inwardly Charlie was churning with excitement. If Kozlov had been posted – and killed – in London, then they and not the American had to have the man. And they would, Charlie determined. He determined something else, too. It had been right not to challenge the American until now. He said: ‘Is that it?’
    â€˜That’s it,’ said Fredericks. There was even a look of satisfaction.
    Charlie sighed, loudly, wanting the other man to hear. ‘Do you know what I think?’ he said.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜I think we should decide something, you and I,’ said Charlie. ‘I think I should stop regarding you as stupid and I certainly think you should stop regarding me as stupid. Which is what we’re both doing at the moment. Like it or not – and I don’t like it any more than you do – we’re going to have to work together on this. Those are my instructions from London and yours from Washington …’ He paused, for the point to register. Then he took up: ‘You told me he’s genuine. You told me everything he said checks out … and you know what you’ve got so far, from what you’ve told me? You’ve got fuck all: absolutely fuck all. Nothing from what you’ve told me could check out, because there’s no independent corroboration. No photographs, no confirmation of posting, just the name on a Japanese Foreign Ministry register: you don’t even have proof that the man who’s met you four times, has the name of a few CIA agents and speaks in accented English, really is Yuri Kozlov …’ Charlie stopped again. ‘Now you know and I know that isn’t right. And you know and I know that a Boy Scouts’ group wouldn’t accept him on what you’ve so far told me. And although it’s sometimes debatable whether they actually succeed, the CIA try to do better than the Boys Scouts. So why don’t you stop buggering about and imagining you’re conning an idiot, and tell me how the man in the Hitachi roundabout theatre proved he was