lousy working girl at the mercy of a pair of broken-down diesels? Anyway, I had a special interest in that series of articles: she was working on it the first time she interviewed me. She’d learned about that old mission of yours—of ours. She wanted all the gory details. I’m afraid I wasn’t a great deal of help. Something about reporters does weird things to my memory.”
“And the second time she was down here, just the other day? What did she want, Harriet?”
Harriet was watching me, her eyes steady on my face. She shook her head minutely. “No, my dear. I won’t do it. I won’t help you do it.”
“Do what?”
She shook her head again, almost irritably. “Dammit, I know what you do, remember? I didn’t like her particularly; but she’s a professional woman doing a professional job, and I can respect that. I didn’t finger you for her. I’m not going to finger her for you, Matt.”
I said, “You’re kind of a dumb broad, aren’t you, Hattie?”
It was rather exciting to see her draw herself up haughtily at the insult, suddenly regal and arrogant despite the unbecoming work clothes she was wearing. She had the kind of face you don’t often see these pretty-pretty days, with a bold nose and good strong cheekbones; a dark-haired hawk of a lady—I’m told the lady hawks are bigger and tougher than the gents—lean and tanned, with little squinty sun-wrinkles at the corners of her fine dark eyes.
“As you reminded me just now, I kicked you off my ship once,” she said softly. “Are you plugging for boot number two?”
“Be your age,” I said. “Don’t believe everything you see on TV.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“If we wanted the woman dead, all we’d have to do is sit on our hands. The rough, nosy, inconsiderate way she operates, somebody’s bound to take her out eventually. I don’t know exactly what she was after here—I’m hoping you’ll give me a hint—and I don’t know what she’s looking for wherever she’s gone from here; but she could make those deadly creatures from outer space kind of mad at her, poking around their private goddamn Triangle the way she’s doing. And on the other hand, if she’s just using that Triangle nonsense to hide what she’s really looking for, which is my guess, she could put herself in even greater danger.”
“And that worries you?” Harriet’s voice was dry. “According to that magazine piece, the next installment in her series is going to blow your cover sky-high.”
I sighed. “Hattie, Hattie! Don’t talk like an I-Spy girl. I was in this business long before you and I met, and that is already quite a while ago. Do you really think my opposite numbers in other countries don’t know me by now? I’ve been blown for years, in that sense. Against real professionals with access to the dossiers, there are very few places where I can operate secretly anymore, so mostly I don’t. A young lady recently called me a troubleshooter, and she got it exactly right. And one trouble we do not need, Captain Robinson, is a girl reporter getting herself brutally murdered right after publishing a story exposing our wicked agents and their sinister plots. No matter who does a job on Miss Brand right now, you know damned well we’ll get the credit. Like you’re doing, everybody’ll assume we simply terminated her with extreme prejudice—as the boys out at Langley like to put it—because we didn’t like the nasty things she wrote about us. We’re having some trouble already because of the publicity she’s giving us, my chief tells me; but it can be kept under control, he thinks. But that kind of a violent incident we couldn’t possibly survive, so it must not be allowed to occur.”
Harriet studied me thoughtfully. “You’re very convincing, darling. But then, you always were.”
I said, “Hell, as far as her story about me is concerned, she’s doing me a favor. If it says what I think, I couldn’t ask for a better PR job,
“And the second time she was down here, just the other day? What did she want, Harriet?”
Harriet was watching me, her eyes steady on my face. She shook her head minutely. “No, my dear. I won’t do it. I won’t help you do it.”
“Do what?”
She shook her head again, almost irritably. “Dammit, I know what you do, remember? I didn’t like her particularly; but she’s a professional woman doing a professional job, and I can respect that. I didn’t finger you for her. I’m not going to finger her for you, Matt.”
I said, “You’re kind of a dumb broad, aren’t you, Hattie?”
It was rather exciting to see her draw herself up haughtily at the insult, suddenly regal and arrogant despite the unbecoming work clothes she was wearing. She had the kind of face you don’t often see these pretty-pretty days, with a bold nose and good strong cheekbones; a dark-haired hawk of a lady—I’m told the lady hawks are bigger and tougher than the gents—lean and tanned, with little squinty sun-wrinkles at the corners of her fine dark eyes.
“As you reminded me just now, I kicked you off my ship once,” she said softly. “Are you plugging for boot number two?”
“Be your age,” I said. “Don’t believe everything you see on TV.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“If we wanted the woman dead, all we’d have to do is sit on our hands. The rough, nosy, inconsiderate way she operates, somebody’s bound to take her out eventually. I don’t know exactly what she was after here—I’m hoping you’ll give me a hint—and I don’t know what she’s looking for wherever she’s gone from here; but she could make those deadly creatures from outer space kind of mad at her, poking around their private goddamn Triangle the way she’s doing. And on the other hand, if she’s just using that Triangle nonsense to hide what she’s really looking for, which is my guess, she could put herself in even greater danger.”
“And that worries you?” Harriet’s voice was dry. “According to that magazine piece, the next installment in her series is going to blow your cover sky-high.”
I sighed. “Hattie, Hattie! Don’t talk like an I-Spy girl. I was in this business long before you and I met, and that is already quite a while ago. Do you really think my opposite numbers in other countries don’t know me by now? I’ve been blown for years, in that sense. Against real professionals with access to the dossiers, there are very few places where I can operate secretly anymore, so mostly I don’t. A young lady recently called me a troubleshooter, and she got it exactly right. And one trouble we do not need, Captain Robinson, is a girl reporter getting herself brutally murdered right after publishing a story exposing our wicked agents and their sinister plots. No matter who does a job on Miss Brand right now, you know damned well we’ll get the credit. Like you’re doing, everybody’ll assume we simply terminated her with extreme prejudice—as the boys out at Langley like to put it—because we didn’t like the nasty things she wrote about us. We’re having some trouble already because of the publicity she’s giving us, my chief tells me; but it can be kept under control, he thinks. But that kind of a violent incident we couldn’t possibly survive, so it must not be allowed to occur.”
Harriet studied me thoughtfully. “You’re very convincing, darling. But then, you always were.”
I said, “Hell, as far as her story about me is concerned, she’s doing me a favor. If it says what I think, I couldn’t ask for a better PR job,
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