Len Deighton - Mexico Set

'We're still on opposing sides, Erich. On Friday we'll be meeting under different circumstances. But until then I'm treating you with great suspicion.'

He turned his head to look at me. 'Of course. Perhaps you're waiting for some gesture of good faith from me. Is that what you're saying?'

'It would raise my morale.'

'This particular gesture of good faith might not,' said Stinnes. He reached into his pocket and got a Russian passport. He gave it to me. There was nothing special about it – it had been issued two years before and was convincingly marked and dog-eared – except that the photo and physical description were mine. I went cold. 'Keep it,' said Stinnes. 'As a souvenir. But don't use it. The serial numbers are ones that will alert the frontier police. And there are invisible marks that when seen under fluorescent light will mean a phone call to Moscow.' He smiled, inviting me to join in the fun.

'There was a plan to kidnap me?'

'A silly contingency plan that has long since been abandoned… on my instructions.'

'And no one suspects you might be coming to us?'

'A frustrated fool suspects, but he had cried wolf too often with too many others.'

'Take care, Erich.'

'Take care? How safe is this place? Angel's body shop. Can we be sure we're not observed.'

I said, 'Werner knows his job. And Angel's yard is as safe as anywhere in this dangerous town.'

'Do you observe what those men over there are doing with that chisel?' he asked. 'They are cutting the number from that truck engine. They are criminals. The police probably have this workshop under observation. You must be mad to bring me to such a place.'

'You've got a lot to learn about the West, Erich. This fellow Angel regularly works on transforming American trucks and cars that are stolen in Texas and California. The first time I came here I walked into the office and saw him with a box of US licence plates that had been ripped off cars before they were resprayed.'

'And?'

'Well, you don't think he can go on doing that year after year without attracting the attention of the police, do you?'

'Why isn't he in prison?'

'He bribes the police, Erich. What do they call them here – "the biting ones" – come regularly to collect their fees. This is the safest place in the whole town. No cop would dare come in here and disturb our peaceful conversation. He'd have the whole force at his throat.'

'I can see I have much to learn about the West,' said Stinnes with heavy sarcasm. It was interesting that he chose to pretend that bribery and corruption was not plaguing the Eastern bloc. He took off his spectacles and blinked. 'It was hard to say goodbye to my son,' he said, as if thinking aloud. 'He asked me if I'd ever thought of defecting to the West… He'd never said such a thing before. Never. It was very strange, almost like telepathy. I had to say no, didn't I?'

For the first time I felt sorry for him, but I made sure it didn't show. 'We'll meet in Garibaldi Square,' I said. 'Take a cab there and pretend you want to listen to the musicians. But stay in the cab. Arrive at nine o'clock. The time might change if the plane is late. Phone the number I gave you between six and seven to confirm. Whoever answers will give a time but no place. That means Garibaldi Square. No baggage. Wear something that won't look too conspicuous in England.'

'I'll be there.'

'And don't tell Mrs Volkmann.'

'Don't tell her where I'm meeting you?'

'Don't tell her anything.'

'She's with your people, isn't she? I thought I'd be travelling on the plane with her.'

'Don't tell her anything.'

'Are you sure that you're in charge of this operation?'

'As one pro to another, Erich, let me admit to you that these jobs make me nervous. You will not be armed; understand? I will be armed. And the moment I see any sign of KGB heavies, or any other evidence of a stake-out, I will blow a hole in you so big that daylight will shine through you from the other side. No offence, Erich, but I felt it better to tell you that in advance.'

'As one pro to another,' said Stinnes with more than a trace of sarcasm, 'I appreciate your frankness.' He wasn't looking at me as he spoke. He was looking right through the open doors of the workshop to where a jeep had stopped in the street. There were three military policemen in it, all wearing US-army-style equipment complete with helmets painted white. One of the MPs climbed out of the jeep and came through into the yard where we were parked. He stared right at us for a long time. Stinnes stopped talking until the MP turned round and went back inside. We watched him go into the large crate that Angel used as an office. The outside of the crate was covered in girlie pictures, calendars and travel posters; one said, 'Sheraton Hotels let you move to the rhythm of Latin America.'

After a few minutes the military policeman reappeared, buttoning his top pocket. He grinned to his driver as the jeep drove away.

'It's the same everywhere in this town. Cops even prey on the cabs taking the tourists to the airport,' I said. 'Everyone pays off.'

Stinnes looked at his watch to see how long it would be before Werner returned. He said, 'You realize how much you need my goodwill, don't you?'

'Do I?'

'London Central want to know one thing above all else. They want to know if you are Moscow's man. If I say 'yes' you'll be finished.'

'If you say I'm Moscow's man, they will discover you are lying,' I said calmly.

'Perhaps they would; perhaps they wouldn't.'

'The debriefing panel are not stupid,' I said, with more conviction than I truly felt. 'They don't use thumbscrews or electric prodders or even a bread-and-water diet, but they'll discover the truth.'

'Eventually, perhaps. But that might come too late to do you any good.'

'They won't take me out and shoot me,' I said.

'No, they won't. But you'd be removed from your job and discredited. If they cleared you afterwards you wouldn't be rehabilitated and reinstated.'

'If I thought this was all a KGB plot to discredit me, I'd kill you now, Stinnes.'

'That would make matters worse for you. If I was killed, you would immediately be suspected. Your position would be worse than having me slander you. With me alive you could argue against me, but London Central would see my dead body as convincing proof of your guilt.'

'Is that how it looks to you?'

'It's how it is ,' said Stinnes. 'Is there anything else?'

'Did my wife arrange the death of the boy at Bosham?'

'Why?'

'I have to know.'

'He recognized her.'

'But did she kill him?'

'Your wife? Of course not.'

'Did she authorize it?'

'No, it was a local decision. Your wife was not consulted.'

I looked at him, trying to see into his brain. 'You'd say that anyway,' I said.

I could see by his face that he could not be bothered to discuss the matter. But then he seemed to realize that from now onwards he might have to get used to doing things our way. 'Pavel Moskvin, one of my people, was trying to make himself famous.'

'By murdering one of our junior staff?'

'Moskvin was using my name; he was in England impersonating me. He got the idea that MacKenzie was you.'

'What?'

'He knows nothing about you, except your name and that you wanted to get into contact with me. He was in England on a routine task; he was no more than a back-up for your wife's team. But, when MacKenzie arrived, Moskvin couldn't resist it. He pretended he was me.'

'What a fiasco,' I said.

'Moskvin is a meddling fool. He thinks it's all so easy. Finally he killed your man rather than have to report what a mess he'd made of everything. No, your wife was not involved. Your wife is furious about it.' A workman wheeled a trailer pump from the shop and started the motor. It made a loud thumping sound until the pressure built up. Then the man began to spray a car door. The spray gun hissed loudly as clouds of pink paint came rolling across the yard.