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〃I don't think I want to pay that bet。 The killing'll be hideous。〃
〃Yes。 But it'll still happen。 Again Mao's right in that。 It'll be hideous all right … but not catastrophic。〃 Irritably Brian Kwok punched the elevator button again。 He looked up suddenly。 〃You don't think the invasion from Taiwan's launched at long last？〃
〃That old chestnut？ That old pipe dream？ e off it； Brian！ Chiang Kai…shek'll never get off Taiwan。〃
〃If he doesn't the whole world's in the manure pile。 If Mao gets thirty years to consolidate 。。。 Christ； you've no idea。 A billion automatons？ Chiang was so right to go after the mie bastards … they're the real enemy of China。 They're the plague of China。 Christ； if they get time to Pavlov all the kids。〃
Armstrong said mildly； 〃Anyone'd think you're a running dog Nationalist。 Simmer down； lad； everything's lousy in the world which is now and ever shall be normal … but you； capitalist dog； you can go racing Saturday； hill climbing Sunday and there're lots of birds ready to be plucked。 Eh？〃
〃Sorry。〃 They got into the elevator。 〃That little bastard Meng caught me off balance；〃 Brian said； stabbing the top…floor button。
Armstrong switched to Cantonese。 〃Thy mother on your sorry； Brother。 〃
〃And thine was stuffed by a vagrant monkey with one testicle in a pail of pig's nightsoil。〃
Armstrong beamed。 〃That's not bad； Brian；〃 he said in English。 〃Not bad at all。〃
The elevator stopped。 They walked along the drab corridor。 At the door they prepared themselves。 Brian knocked gently。
〃e in。〃
Roger Crosse was in his fifties； a thin tall man with pale blue eyes and fair thinning hair and small； long…fingered hands。 His desk was meticulous； like his civilian clothes … his office Spartan。 He motioned to chairs。 They sat。 He continued to read a file。 At length he closed it carefully and set it in front of him。 The cover was drab； interoffice and ordinary。 〃An American millionaire arrives with smuggled guns； an ex…drug peddling； very suspect Shanghainese millionaire flees to Taiwan； and now a VIP kidnapping with； God help us； Werewolves and a mutilated ear。 All in nineteen…odd hours。 Where's the connection？〃
Armstrong broke the silence。 〃Should there be one； sir？〃
〃Shouldn't there？〃
〃Sorry sir； I don't know。 Yet。〃
〃That's very boring； Robert； very boring indeed。〃
〃Yes sir。〃
〃Tedious in fact； particularly as the powers that be have already begun to breathe heavily down my neck。 And when that happens 。。。〃 He smiled at them and both suppressed a shudder。 〃Of course Robert； I did warn you yesterday that important names might be involved。〃
〃Yes sir。〃
〃Now Brian； we're grooming you for high office。 Don't you think you could take your mind off horse racing； car racing and almost anything in skirts and apply some of your undoubted talents to solving this modest conundrum。〃
〃Yes sir。〃
〃Please do。 Very quickly。 You're assigned to the case with Robert because it might require your expertise … for the next few days。 I want this out of the way very very quickly indeed because we've a slight problem。 One of our American friends in the consulate called me last night。 Privately。〃 He motioned at the file。 〃This is the result。 With his tip we intercepted the original in the bleak hours … of course this's a copy； the original was naturally returned and the 。。。〃 He hesitated； choosing the correct word； 〃。。。 the courier； an amateur by the way； left undisturbed。 It's a report； a sort of newsletter with different headings。 They're all rather interesting。 Yes。 One's headed； 'The KGB in Asia。' It claims that they've a deep…cover spy ring I've never even heard of before； code name 'Sevrin；' with high…level hostiles in key positions in government； police； business … at the tai…pan level … throughout Southeast Asia； particularly here in Hong Kong。〃
The air hissed out of Brian Kwok's mouth。
〃Quite；〃 Crosse said agreeably。 〃If it's true。〃
〃You think it is； sir？〃 Armstrong said。
〃Really； Robert； perhaps you're in need of early retirement on medical grounds： softening of the brain。 If I wasn't perturbed do you think I'd endure the unhappy pleasure of having to petition the assistance of the CID Kowloon？〃
〃No sir； sorry sir。〃
Crosse turned the file to face them and opened it to the title page。 Both men gasped。 It read； 〃Confidential to Ian Dunross only。 By hand； report 3/1963。 One copy only。〃
〃Yes；〃 he continued。 〃Yes。 This's the first time we've actual proof Struan's have their own intelligence system。〃 He smiled at them and their flesh crawled。 〃I'd certainly like to know how tradesmen manage to be privy to all sorts of very intimate information we're supposed to know ages before them。〃
〃Yes sir。〃
〃The report's obviously one of a series。 Oh yes； and this one's signed on behalf of Struan's Research mittee 16； by a certain A。 M。 Grant … dated in London three days ago。〃
Brian Kwok gasped again。 〃Grant？ Would that be the Alan Medford Grant； the associate of the Institute for Strategic Planning in London？〃
〃Full marks； Brian； ten out of ten。 Yes。 Mr。 AMG himself。 Mr。 VIP； Mr。 Advisor to Her Majesty's Government for undercover affairs who really knows onions from leeks。 You know him； Brian？〃
Brian Kwok said； 〃I met him a couple of times in England last year； sir； when I was on the Senior Officers Course at the General Staff College。 He gave a paper on advanced strategic considerations for the Far East。 Brilliant。 Quite brilliant。〃
〃Fortunately he's English and on our side。 Even so 。。。〃 Crosse sighed again。 〃I certainly hope he's mistaken this time or we're in the mire deeper than even I imagined。 It seems few of our secrets are secrets anymore。 Tiring。 Very。 And as to this；〃 he touched the file again； 〃I'm really quite shocked。〃
〃Has the original been delivered； sir？〃 Armstrong asked。
〃Yes。 To Dunross personally at 4：18 this afternoon。〃 His voice became even more silky。 〃Fortunately； thank God； my relations with our cousins across the water are first class。 Like yours； Robert … unlike yours； Brian。 You never did like America； did you； Brian？〃
〃No sir。〃
〃Why； may I ask？〃
〃They talk too much； sir； you can't trust them with any secrets … they're loud； and I find them stupid。〃
Crosse smiled with his mouth。 〃That's no reason not to have good relations with them； Brian。 Perhaps you're the stupid one。〃
〃Yes sir。〃
〃They're not all stupid； oh dear no。〃 The director closed the file but left it facing them。 Both men stared at it； mesmerized。
〃Did the Americans say how they found out about the file； sir？〃 Armstrong asked without thinking。
〃Robert； I really do believe your sinecure in Kowloon has addled your brain。 Shall I remend you for a medical retirement？〃
The big man winced。 〃No sir； thank you sir。〃
〃Would we reveal our sources to them？〃
〃No sir。〃
〃Would they have told me if I'd been so crass as to ask them？〃
〃No sir。〃
〃This whole business is very tedious and filled with loss of face。 Mine。 Don't you agree； Robert？〃
〃Yes sir。〃
〃Good； that's something。〃 Crosse leaned back in his chair； rocking it。 His eyes ground into them。 Both men were wondering who the tipster was； and why。
Can't be the CIA； Brian Kwok was thinking。 They'd have done the intercept themselves； they don't need SI to do their dirty work for them。 Those crazy bastards'll do anything； tread on any toes； he thought disgustedly。 If not them； who？
Who？
Must be someone who's in Intelligence but who can't； or couldn't do the intercept； who's on good terms； safe terms with Crosse。 A consular official？ Possible。 Johnny Mishauer； Naval Intelligence？ Out of his channel。 Who？ There's not many 。。。 Ah； the FBI man； Crosse's protégé！ Ed Langan。 Now； how would Langan know about this file？ Information from London？ Possible； but the FBI doesn't have an office there。 If the tip came from London； probably MI…5 or …6 would know it first and they'd've arranged to get the material at the source and would have telexed it to us； and given us hell for being inept in our own backyard。 Did the courier's aircraft land at Lebanon？ There's an FBI man there I seem to recall。 If not from London or Lebanon； the information must have e from the aircraft itself。 Ah； an acpanying friendly informer who saw the file； or the cover？ Crew？ Ayeeyah！ Was the aircraft TWA or Pan Am？ The FBI has all sorts of links； close links … with all sorts of ordinary businesses； rightly so。 Oh yes。 Is there a Sunday flight？ Yes。 Pan Am； ETA 2030。 Too late for a night delivery by the time you've got to the hotel。 Perfect。
〃Strange that the courier came Pan Am and not BOAC … it's a much better flight；〃 he said； pleased with the oblique way his mind worked。
〃Yes。 I thought the same；〃 Crosse said as evenly。 〃Terribly un…British of him。 Of course； Pan Am does land on time whereas you never know with poor old BOAC these days … 〃 He nodded at Brian agreeably。 〃Full marks again。 Go to the head of the class。〃
〃Thank you sir。〃
〃What else do you deduce？〃
After a pause Brian Kwok said； 〃In return for the tip； you agreed to provide Langan with an exact copy of the file。〃
〃And？〃
〃And you regret having honored that。〃
Crosse sighed。 〃Why？〃
〃I'll know only after I've read the file。〃
〃Brian； you real