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〃I feel rotten。〃 Armstrong hesitated。 〃I sent for a couple of beers； then we'll have lunch。 How about a curry？ All right？〃
〃Fine； but if you're feeling rotten let's skip lunch。〃
〃No； it's not that sort of rotten。 I 。。。 I just hate doing white interrogations 。。。 gives me the creeps。〃
Brian Kwok stared at him。 〃You did the old amah there？ What the hell for？〃
〃It was Crosse's order。 He's a bastard！〃
Brian Kwok put his paper down。 〃Yes he is； and I'm sure I'm right about him；〃 he said softly。
〃Not now； Brian； over lunch maybe but not now。 Christ； I need a drink！ Bloody Crosse； and bloody SI！ I'm not SI and yet he acts like I'm one of his。〃
〃Oh？ But you're ing on the 16/2 this evening。 I thought you'd been seconded。〃
〃He didn't mention it。 What's on？〃
〃If he didn't mention it； I'd better not。〃
〃Of course。〃 It was normal SI procedure； for security； to minimize the spread of information so that even highly trustworthy agents working on the same case might not be given all the facts。 〃I'm bloody not going to be seconded；〃 Armstrong said grimly； knowing that if Crosse ordered it there was nothing he could do to prevent it。 〃Is the intercept to do with Sevrin？〃
〃I don't know。 I hope so。〃 Brian Kwok studied him then smiled。 〃Cheer up； Robert； I've some good news for you；〃 he said and Armstrong noticed again how handsome his friend was； strong white teeth； golden skin； firm jaw； dancing eyes with that devil…may…care confidence about him。
〃You're a good…looking sod；〃 he said。 〃What good news？ You leaned on friend One Foot at the Para Restaurant and he's given you the first four winners for Saturday？〃
〃Dreamer！ No； it's about those files you snatched yesterday at Bucktooth Lo's and passed over to Anti…Corruption。 Remember？ From Photographer Ng？〃
〃Oh？ Oh yes。〃
〃It seems our fair…weather American…Chinese guest； Thomas K。 K。 Lim； who's 'somewhere in Brazil；' is quite a character。 His files were golden。 Very golden indeed！ And in English； so our Anti…Corruption fellows went through them like a dose of salts。 You came up with treasure！〃
〃He's connected with Tsu…yan？〃 Armstrong asked； his mind diverted immediately。
〃Yes。 And a lot of other people。 Very important people； ve… 〃
〃Banastasio？〃
Brian Kwok smiled with his mouth。 〃Vincenzo Banastasio himself。 That ties John Chen； the guns； Tsu…yan； Banastasio and Peter Marlowe's theory nicely。〃
〃Bartlett？〃
〃Not yet。 But Marlowe knows someone who knows too much that we don't know。 I think we should investigate him。 Will you？〃
〃Oh yes。 What else about the papers？〃
〃Thomas K。 K。 Lim's a Catholic； a third…generation American…Chinese who's a magpie。 He collects all sorts of inflammatory correspondence； letters； notes； memos； etcetera。〃 Brian Kwok smiled his humorless smile again。 〃Our Yankee friends are worse than we thought。〃
〃For instance？〃
〃For instance； a certain well…known； well…connected New England family's involved with certain generals； U。S。 and Vietnamese； in building several very large； very unnecessary U。S。A。F。 bases in Vietnam … very profitably … for them。〃
〃Hallelujah！ Names？〃
〃Names； ranks and serial numbers。 If the principals knew friend Thomas had it documented； it would send a shudder of horror down the Hallowed Halls of Fame； the Pentagon and various expensive smoke…filled rooms。〃
Armstrong grunted。 〃He's the middle man？〃
〃Entrepreneur he calls himself。 Oh he's on very good terms with lots of notables。 American； Italian； Vietnamese； Chinese； both sides of the fence。 The papers document the whole fraud。 Another scheme's to channel millions of U。S。 funds into another phony Vietnam aid program。 8 million to be exact … one is already paid over to them。 Friend Lim even discussed how the one million h'eung yau's to be diverted to Switzerland。〃
〃Could we make it stick？〃
〃Oh yes； if we catch Thomas K。 K。 Lim and if we wanted to make it stick。 I asked Crosse but he just shrugged and said it wasn't our affair； that if Yanks wanted to cheat their government； that's up to them。〃 Brian Kwok smiled but his eyes didn't。 〃It's powerful info； Robert。 If even part became mon knowledge it'd create one helluva stinky stink right up to the top。〃
〃Is he going to pass it on to Rosemont？ Leak it？〃
〃I don't know。 I don't think so。 In one way he's right。 It's nothing to do with us。 Bloody stupid to put it all down！ Stupid！ They deserve to get chopped！ When you've a minute read the papers； they're juicy。〃
〃Any connection between Lim and those other villains？ Bucktooth Lo and the other man？ Are they stealing CARE funds？〃
〃Oh yes； must be； but all their files're in Chinese so it'll take longer to pin them。〃 Brian Kwok added strangely； 〃Curious that Crosse sniffed that one out； almost as though he knew there'd be a connection。〃 He dropped his voice。 〃I know I'm right about him。〃
The silence gathered。 Armstrong's mouth felt parched and tasted bad。 He pried his eyes off the rain and looked at Brian Kwok。
〃What've you got？〃
〃You know that vice…consul in the U S Consulate … the homo； the one who's selling visas？〃
〃What about him？〃
〃Last month Crosse had dinner with him。 In his flat。〃
Armstrong rubbed his face nervously。 〃That proves nothing。 Listen； tomorrow； tomorrow we get the files。 Tomorrow Sind… 〃
〃Perhaps we won't get to read them。〃
〃Personally I don't give a shit。 That's SI business and I'm CID and that's wh… 〃
A knock stopped him。 The door opened。 A Chinese waiter came in with a tray and two tankards of cold beer and beamed toothily。 〃Afternoon； sah；〃 he said； offering one to Brian Kwok。 He gave the other to Armstrong and went out。
〃Good luck；〃 Armstrong said； hating himself。 He drank deeply then went to his safe to lock the tape away。
Brian Kwok studied him。 〃You sure you're all right； old chum？〃
〃Yes； yes of course。〃
〃What did the old woman say？〃
〃In the beginning she told lots of lies； lots of them。 And then the truth。 All of it。 I'll tell you over lunch； Brian。 You know how it is … you catch the lies eventually； if you're patient。 I'm fed up with lies。〃 Armstrong finished his beer。 〃Christ； I needed that。〃
〃Do you want mine too？ Here。〃
〃No； no thanks； but it's me for a whiskey and soda before curry and maybe another one。 Drink up and let's get the show on the road。〃
Brian Kwok put his half…empty tankard down。 〃That's enough for me。〃 He lit a cigarette。 〃How's the nonsmoking going？〃
〃Rough。〃 Armstrong watched him inhale deeply。 〃Anything on Voranski？ Or his assassins？〃
〃They vanished into thin air。 We've got their photos so we'll catch them； unless they're over the border。〃
〃Or in Taiwan。〃
After a pause； Brian Kwok nodded。 〃Or Macao or North Korea； Vietnam or wherever。 The minister's hopping mad with Crosse over Voranski； so's MI…6； so's the CIA。 The CIA top echelon in London have been chewing the minister's tail so he's passing it on。 We'd better get those buggers before Rosemont or we'll lose all face。 Rosemont's under fire too to e up with their heads。 I hear he's got every man out looking； thinking it's to do with Sevrin； and the carrier。 He's petrified there's going to be an incident involving the nuclear carrier。〃 Brian Kwok added； his voice hardening； 〃Bloody stupid to offend the PRC by bringing her here。 That monster's an open invitation to every agent in Asia。〃
〃If I was Soviet I'd try to infiltrate her。 SI's probably trying right now。 Crosse'd love to have a plant aboard。 Why not？〃 The big man watched the smoke curling。 〃If I was Nationalist perhaps I'd plant a few mines and blame the PRC … or vice versa and blame Chiang Kai…shek。〃
〃That's what the CIA'd do to get everyone hopping mad at China。〃
〃e off it； Brian！〃
Brian Kwok took a last sip then got up。 〃That's enough for me。 e on。〃
〃Just a moment。〃 Armstrong dialed。 〃This's Armstrong； set up another session at 1700 hours for V…11…3。 I'll want 。。。〃 He stopped； seeing his friend's eyes flutter； then glaze and he caught him easily as he fell and let him slump back in the chair。 Out of himself； almost watching himself； he put the phone back on its cradle。 Now there was nothing for him to do but wait。
I've done my job； he thought。
The door opened。 Crosse came in。 Behind him were three plain…clothed SI agents； all British； all senior agents； all taut…faced and tense。 Quickly one of the men put a thick black hood over Brian Kwok's head； picked him up easily and went out； the others following。
Now that it was done Robert Armstrong felt nothing； no remorse or shock or anger。 Nothing。 His head told him that there was no mistake though his head still told him equally that his friend of almost twenty years could not possibly be a munist mole。 But he was。 The proof was irrefutable。 The evidence he had found proved conclusively that Brian Kwok was the son of Fang…ling Wu； Ah Tam's old employer； when according to his birth certificate and personal records his mother and father were supposed to have been surnamed Kwok and murdered by munists in Canton in '43。 One of the photographs had showed Brian Kwok standing beside a tiny Chinese lady in front of a pharmacy at a crossroads in a village。 The quality was poor but more than good enough to read the characters of the shop sign and to recog