Read Online Call for the Dead by John le Carré - Free Book Online Page B

speak to George Brown. You're told George Brown doesn't live there so you apologise and ring off. The time and the rendezvous are prearranged--the emergency signal is contained in the name you ask for. Someone will be there." "What else would the Mission do?" asked Smiley. There was another silence. Smiley looked at Guillam and then at Mendel, then blinked and said: "Blondie didn't come to Scarr in January and February, did he?" "No," said Mendel; "this was the first year." "Fennan always went skiing in January and February. This was the first time in four years he'd missed." "I wonder," said Smiley; "whether I ought to go and see Maston again." Guillam stretched luxuriously and smiled: "You can always try. He'll be thrilled to hear you've been brained. I've a sneaking feeling he'll think Battersea's on the coast, but not to worry. Tell him you were attacked while wandering about in someone's private yard--he'll understand. Tell him about your assailant, too, George. You've never seen him, mind, and you don't know his name, but he's a courier of the East German Intelligence Service. Maston will back you up; he always does. Specially when he's got to report to the Minister." Smiley looked at Guillam and said nothing. "After your bang on the head, too," Guillam added; -"he'll understand." "But, Peter--" "I know, George, I know." "Well, let me tell you another thing. Blondie collected his car on the first Tuesday of each month." "So?" "Those were the nights Eisa Fennan went to the Weybridge Rep. Fennan worked late on Tuesdays, she said." "Probably still at the Station," said Mendel; "until after the inquest." Guillam stood looking at Smiley for a moment, wondering what to say. "Anything you want, George?" "No thanks--Oh, there is one thing." "Yes?" "Could you get the C.I.D. off my back? They've visited me three times now and of course they've got nowhere locally. Could you make this an Intelligence matter for the time being? Be mysterious and soothing?" "Yes, I should think so." "I know it's difficult, Peter, because I'm not--" "Oh another thing just to cheer you up. I had that comparison made between Fennan's suicide note and the anonymous letter. They were done by different people on the same machine. Different pressures and spacing but identical type face. So long, old dear. Tuck into the grapes." Guillam closed the door behind him. They heard his footsteps echoing crisply down the bare corridor. Mendel rolled himself a cigarette. "Lord," said Smiley; "does nothing frighten you? Haven't you seen the Sister here?" Mendel grinned and shook his head. "You can only die once," he said, putting the cigarette between his thin lips. Smiley watched him light it. He produced his lighter, took the hood off it and rotated the wheel with his stained thumb, swiftly cupping both hands around it and nursing the flame towards the cigarette. There might have been a hurricane blowing. "Well, you're the crime expert," said Smiley. "How are we doing?" "Messy," said Mendel. "Untidy." "Why?" "Loose ends everywhere. No police work. Nothing checked. Like algebra." "What's algebra got to do with it?" "You've got to prove what can be proved, first. Find the constants. Did she really go to the theatre? Was she alone? Did the neighbours hear her come back? If so, what time? Was Fennan really late Tuesdays? Did his Missus go to the theatre regular every fortnight like she said?" "And the 8.30 call. Can you tidy that for me?" "You've got that call on the brain, haven't you?" "Yes. Of all the loose ends, that's the loosest. I brood over it, you know, and there just isn't any sense in it. I've been through his train timetable. He was a punctual man--often got to the F.O. before anyone else, unlocked his own cupboard. He would have caught the 8.45, the 9.08 or at worst the 9.14. The 8.45 got him in at 9.38--he liked to be at his office by a quarter to ten. He couldn't possibly want to be woken at 8.30." "Perhaps he just liked bells," said Mendel, getting up.