Robert Ludlum - The Bourne Supremacy

'Start with her description,' said Nelson.

Sitting in front of McAllister's desk, Lin Wenzu read from his notebook as the undersecretary of state listened. 'Although the description differs, the differences are minor and easily achieved. Hair pulled back and covered by a hat, no makeup, flat shoes to reduce her height but not that much – it is she. '

'And she claimed not to recognize the name of anyone in the directory who could be her so-called cousin?

'A second cousin on her mother's side. Just far-fetched yet specific enough to be credible. According to the receptionist, she was quite awkward, even flustered. She also carried a purse that was so obviously a Gucci imitation that the receptionist took her for a backwoods hick. Pleasant but gullible. '

'She recognized someone's name,' said McAllister.

'If she did, why didn't she ask to see him? She wouldn't waste time under the circumstances. '

'She probably assumed that we'd sent out an alert, that she couldn't take the chance of being recognized, not on the premises. '

'I don't think that would concern her, Edward. With what she knows, what she's been through, she could be extremely convincing. '

'With what she thinks she knows, Lin. She can't be sure of anything. She'll be very cautious, afraid to make a wrong move. That's her husband out there, and take my word for it -I saw them together – she's extremely protective of him. My God, she stole over five million dollars for the simple reason that she thought, quite correctly, he'd been wronged by his own people. By her lights he deserved it – they deserved it -and let Washington go to hell in a basket. '

'She did that?'

'Havilland cleared you for everything. She did that and got away with it. Who was going to raise his voice? She had clandestine Washington just the way she wanted it. Frightened and embarrassed, both to the teeth. '

The more I learn, the more I admire her. '

'Admire her all you like, just find her. '

'Speaking of the ambassador, where is he?'

'Having a quiet lunch with the Canadian high commissioner. '

'He's going to tell him everything?'

'No, he's going to ask for blind co-operation with a telephone at his table so he can reach London. London will instruct the commissioner to do whatever Havilland asks him to do. It's all been arranged. '

'He moves and shakes, doesn't he?'

'There's no one like him. He should be back any minute now, actually he's late. ' The telephone rang and McAllister picked it up. 'Yes? ... No, he's not here. Who? ... Yes, of course, I'll talk to him. ' The undersecretary covered the mouthpiece and spoke to the major. 'It's our consul general. '

'Something's happened,' said Lin, nervously getting out of his chair.

'Yes, Mr Lewis, this is McAllister. I want you to know how much we appreciate everything, sir. The consulate's been most co-operative. '

Suddenly the door opened and Havilland walked into the room.

'It's the American consul general, Mr Ambassador,' said Lin. 'I believe he was asking for you. '

This is no time for one of his damned dinner parties!'

'Just a minute, Mr Lewis. The ambassador just arrived. I'm sure you want to speak with him. ' McAllister extended; the phone to Havilland, who walked rapidly to the desk.

'Yes, Jonathan, what is it?' His tall, slender body rigid, his eyes fixed on an unseen spot in the garden beyond the large bay window, the ambassador stood in silence, listening. Finally he spoke. Thank you, Jonathan, you did the right thing. Say absolutely nothing to anyone and I'll take it from here. ' Havilland hung up and looked alternately at McAllister and Wenzu. 'Our breakthrough, if it is a breakthrough, just came from the wrong direction. Not the Canadian but the American consulate. '

'It's not consistent,' said McAllister. 'It's not Paris, not the street with her favourite tree, the maple tree, the maple leaf. That's the Canadian consulate, not the American. '

'And with that analysis are we to disregard it?'

'Of course not. What happened?'

'An attaché named Nelson was stopped in Garden Road by a Canadian woman trying to find her American husband. This Nelson offered to help her, to accompany her to the police, but she was adamant. She wouldn't go to the police, and neither would she go back with him to his office. '

'Did she give any reasons?' asked Lin. 'She appeals for help and then refuses it.'

'Just that it was personal. Nelson described her as high-strung, overwrought. She identified herself as Marie Webb and said that perhaps her husband had come to the consulate looking for her. Could Nelson ask around and she'd call him back. '

'That's not what she said before,' protested McAllister. 'She was clearly referring to what had happened to them in Paris, and that meant reaching an official of her own government, her own country. Canada. '

'Why do you persist?' asked Havilland. That's not a criticism I simply want to know why. '

'I'm not sure. Something's not right. Among other things, the major here established the fact that she did go to the Canadian consulate. '

'Oh?' The ambassador looked at the man from Special Branch.

The receptionist confirmed it. The description was close enough, especially for someone trained by a chameleon. Her story was that she had promised her family she would look up a distant cousin whose last name she had forgotten. The receptionist gave her a directory and she went through it. '

'She found someone she knew,' interrupted the undersecretary of state. 'She made contact. '

Then there's your answer,' said Havilland firmly. 'She learned that her husband had not gone to a street with a row of maple trees, so she took the next best course of action. The American consulate. '

'And identified herself when she has to know people are looking for her all over Hong Kong?'

'Giving a false name would serve no purpose,' the ambassador replied.

They both speak French. She could have used a French word – toile, for instance. It means web. '

'I know what it means, but I think you're reaching. '

'Her husband would have understood. She would have done something less obvious. '

'Mr. Ambassador,' interrupted Lin Wenzu, slowly taking his eyes off McAllister. 'Hearing your words to the American consul general, that he should say absolutely nothing to anyone, and now fully understanding your concerns for secrecy, I assume Mr. Lewis has not been apprised of the situation. '

'Correct, Major. '

Then why did he call you? People frequently get lost here in Hong Kong. A missing husband or a missing wife is not so uncommon. '

For an instant Havilland's expression was creased with self doubt . 'Jonathan Lewis and I go back a long time,' he said, his voice lacking its usual authority. 'He may be something of a bon vivani but he's no fool – he wouldn't be here if he were. And the circumstances under which the woman stopped his attaché – well, Lewis knows me and he drew certain conclusions. ' The diplomat turned to McAllister; when he continued his authority gradually returned. 'Call Lewis back, Edward. Tell him to instruct this Nelson to stand by for a call from you. I'd prefer a less direct approach, but there isn't time. I want you to question him, question him on anything and everything you can think of. I'll be listening on the line in your office. '

'You agree, then,' said the undersecretary. 'Something's wrong. '

'Yes,' answered Havilland, looking at Lin. The major saw it and I didn't. I'd phrase it somewhat differently but it's essentially what disturbs him. The question is not why Lewis called me, it's why an attaché went to him. After all, a highly agitated woman says her husband's missing but she won't go to the police, won't enter the consulate. Normally such a person would be dismissed as a crank. Certainly on the surface it's not a matter to bring to the attention of an overworked CG. Call Lewis. '