Charles Cumming - A spy by nature

This is probably the best time. When he’s outside. Still early in the day.

Always where Saul is concerned there has been this conflict in me between doing what is necessary and expedient, and what I feel is right. Always I have been trying to suppress my more calculating instincts in order to behave as would a good and loyal friend.

But it is hopeless. I am so inured to moral consequence that I do not even consider whether he will forgive me. I simply walk outside into the gathering light and open the driver’s door on the car. Reaching inside, I switch on the radio, tuning it to the nearest station.

“What are you doing?” he asks gently.

“It’s necessary,” I reply, and Saul looks bewildered. A song is playing and I turn up the volume, leaving the door of the car open.

“What do you mean, ‘It’s necessary’?”

I have to keep him out of the house, in case they have had it wired.

“Don’t go back inside for a bit, okay? And don’t get too close to the car.”

“Alec, turn it down, what are you…?”

“I know what happened to Kate. I know why they were killed last night.”

“But we both…”

He starts to reply but then stops, putting the mug of coffee down. Saul looks up at me, his face suddenly altered by fear.

I move a step closer to him. I want to lay a hand on his shoulder, to assure my friend that everything is going to be all right. And then I say, “There are things that I have to tell you.”