Joseph Kanon - The Prodigal Spy

“No. I never thought I’d see him again. I went back to Paris. Then Jeff came and said he’d been thinking about it and why did your father want to see you and maybe I should do it, do what he asked, and it might be important and wouldn’t I do it for him?”

“But not tell me.”

“Would you have come?”

“No.”

“So I thought, why not? I didn’t even know you. Jeff really wanted it. And it was interesting. I wanted to know Narodni I figured I owed it to her. To find out once and for all. And then when it started, I thought, I can’t do this. It’s like working for the FBI, not Jeff. That’s when I realized what he was, really one of them. And by that time I knew you. I was going to call it off in Vienna-I was supposed to check in with him there, before we crossed the border. But you changed the plan, remember? You didn’t want to wait and I–I went with it. I couldn’t tell you. I thought, what if nothing happens? Just a visit. Nobody had to know. Your father never suspected.”

“No, he had you checked out,” Nick said. “He believed you.” A love affair, his father had said, young people always had love affairs. Some plausible young man at the embassy, not CIA, nobody to worry about. “Everybody believed you.”

“Yes.”

“So you wanted to call it off, but you saw Foster here anyway.”

“I had to. I couldn’t just leave. I had to put an end to it, tell him to stop. I was afraid if I didn’t-”

“What?”

“That he’d talk to you. That you’d find out from him.”

“Oh. Instead of from you. Just when were you planning to tell me?”

She turned to look at him. “Never.”

“Never. Not even after we were home. Why not?”

“Because I knew you’d look at me the way you’re looking now.” Her eyes were moist, filling.

“So no one would be the wiser,” he said, angry at the tears, not wanting to be disarmed. “Especially me. But it didn’t work out that way.”

“No.”

“What did you tell Foster?”

“There was nothing to tell. We went to the country. No dark secrets from the past. Nothing that would interest anybody at home. Just a visit. End of story.” She hesitated. “I told him I didn’t want you to know about me. That it would ruin things. I made him promise.”

“Don’t worry, he kept it. Your secret’s safe with him.” He took out a handkerchief and held it out to her. “But that wasn’t exactly the end. You told Foster he was planning to leave. Didn’t you?”

She blew her nose, nodding at the same time.

“Why?”

“I never thought he was serious. It was just some crazy idea. And Jeff kept hounding me. What did they talk about? What did they talk about? He wanted to know who his contacts were, who he saw in Prague. As if I’d know. So I said it wasn’t like that. He was out of it, retired. He even had this idea about going back and he wanted you to help. That’s how out of it he was-in some dream world.” She looked up at him, her face still covered by the handkerchief. “I didn’t want Jeff to think it was real, get all excited. Maybe try to contact him. I didn’t think it was real. I didn’t.” A thin wail.

Nick turned away, not wanting to face her, waiting as she caught her breath. “Tell me something else you were never going to tell me,” he said quietly. “He wasn’t going to leave it alone, was he? Not after that. He wanted you to find out more. From me. Stay close to me. Let him know. He made you promise to keep going, didn’t he? Then he’d keep his.”

He waited, hoping he’d overshot, his stomach turning when he saw her nod again into the handkerchief.

“But I wasn’t going to,” she said. “I just said it to make him stop. I wasn’t going to.”

“God, Molly.” He leaned back against the bridge, feeling hemmed in. His Czech watchdog down the road was staring at the river. The American was closer, stifling a sniffle. “Tell me something. What did that feel like? In bed. Spying on me.”

“I wasn’t spying on you.”

“What do you call it?”

“I thought we were making love,” she said quietly. “That’s what it felt like to me.”

“Spare me.”

She raised her head, stung, then shrugged and gave him the handkerchief. “It’s true, for what it’s worth. Anyway, how would you know? Did you even know I was there?”

“Not both of you.”

“Maybe you can’t,” she said, ignoring him. “You don’t care about anything unless it happened twenty years ago. I hate what he did to you. Making you think you could get it back. Who could compete with that? You don’t have room for anybody else. Just him.”

He stood, saying nothing, only vaguely aware of the traffic sounds, as if someone had sliced him with a knife and he had to hold his insides close so they wouldn’t slip out.

Then it worked, he’d held himself in and was able to breathe again.

“Well, now he’s dead. Somebody else didn’t want him around either.”

“That’s unfair. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.”

“Then why say it? To make me feel worse? You don’t have to. I can do that myself.” She shook her head. “Oh, what’s the use? You’re too hurt to see anything. But what happened with Jeff-it didn’t matter to me, Nick. It didn’t matter.”

“But it did matter. My father’s dead, because someone knew.”

“Because I told Jeff? But how could it? Do you think I’ve thought about anything else for two days? What if I did it? Me. Killed him just by- But how? Jeff didn’t kill him. He may be a shit, but he didn’t do that.”

“But who else knew? Me. You. Foster. Unless he told somebody. Did he?”

“I don’t know.”

He hesitated. “But you could find out.”

“How?”

“Use your wiles. They worked on me.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s not much to ask, considering.”

“Nick-”

“Not for me. Do it for my father. He’s entitled to one favor.”

She looked down. For a moment there was nothing, just the sound of a truck going by. “Do what?”

“Go see Foster. Tell him I still don’t suspect anything. And you’d like to keep it that way. Just between you and old Jeff. Has he talked to anyone else? In the embassy. Or even back home. Find out if he signaled the Bureau about this, if anyone in Washington has any idea.”

“Why Washington?”

“And when. If he said anything before.”

“Nick, what’s the point? What does this have to do with anything? The Bureau didn’t kill him.”

“Maybe my father wasn’t as careful as he thought. Maybe his friends already knew. But maybe he was careful. Maybe he got tripped up because somebody wanted a new job and thought he was the ticket. I just want to find out who knew. It’s important. Maybe it stops with Foster. At least we eliminate possibilities.”

Molly stared up at him. “If it stops with him,” she said slowly, “that leaves me. Do you think I did it?”

“No.”

“Really. Why not me? Why not Anna? It’s usually the wife, isn’t it? Why not the Bureau, who didn’t even know where he was. Except in some old file nobody cares about anymore. Who else? Do you see what this is doing to you? It’s crazy.”

Nick nodded. “But he’s dead. And whoever killed him knew he was going to leave. It’s the only way it makes sense.”

“Well, it doesn’t make sense to me. Why not just lock him up? They lock up everyone else. What made him so special?”

“I don’t know.”

She raised her head, scanning his face. “You do, though. That’s it. That’s why you’re so sure he was killed. Why you’re worried. Signing things. I thought it was just an idea he had, but you didn’t. You knew he could do it. You even bought him a ticket. There’s something else. That’s why you want to know who Jeff told.” She glanced up, her eyes narrowing. “In Washington. That’s what you want to know. Who in Washington.” Nick said nothing, still not looking at her. “Leaving was only part of it. There’s always been something else. That you wouldn’t tell me.”