Read Online Time to Kill by Brian Freemantle - Free Book Online Page B

around his ankles, by a planted KGB seductress. Nor that while he had been stationed in all three cities, he’d never been exposed to or experienced any danger. Mason’s greatest intelligence coup was manoeuvring a recall from Moscow to the CIA’s Russian Desk at Langley, and that was for his KGB masters.
    He still might amuse himself recovering all the old, perhaps even outdated and superseded tradecraft, thought Slater. It could conceivably be a selective re-learning process from which he’d isolate things to teach David.
    Jack Mason wouldn’t have recognized the attorney who’d represented him at his treason trial: their association over his mother’s estate had been entirely by letter. Since 1986 Patrick Bell had lost virtually all his hair, put on at least 281bs and needed thick-lensed spectacles. His breathing was strained, too.
    â€˜Sorry I couldn’t make it until now,’ apologized Bell. ‘I’m pretty busy.’
    â€˜Not a problem,’ assured Mason, who’d actually wanted the meeting pushed back as close as possible to his release date. He looked around the interview room assigned to them and said, ‘You sure this place isn’t wired?’
    â€˜It’s against the law,’ said Bell.
    â€˜So’s murder, rape and sexually molesting children. Still happens all the time.’ It was irritating having to go through the prison complaint charade before getting to what was really important to him, but he’d been patient for fifteen years and the delay now was going to be about fifteen minutes.
    â€˜We’re OK. Trust me. What’s the complaint?’
    Bell made no attempt to take notes as Mason recounted what had happened during the Washington visit. He didn’t once look at Mason, either, but sat head bowed on the other side of the interview table. Nor did he interrupt.
    It seemed several moments after Mason stopped before the lawyer said, ‘Why should Howitt try to set you up?’
    â€˜I told you, to screw my maximum remission.’
    â€˜Why’d he want to do that?’
    â€˜Because I haven’t kissed his ass, like everyone else.’
    â€˜That serious enough to him, to try a stunt like this?’
    â€˜He’s a bullying bastard. Wants everyone frightened of him.’
    â€˜But you’re not?’
    â€˜And he knows it. There’s going to be an internal prison enquiry. It’s on hold until we were able to talk like this.’
    â€˜You’re alleging conspiracy. Who else was involved, apart from Howitt?’
    â€˜An ass-licking guard named Gerry Garson.’
    â€˜What producible evidence have you got?’
    â€˜I wasn’t officially signed out. Which I understand I should have been, according to prison regulations. And I wasn’t taken in a secure prison van, which I also understand is covered by prison regulations. I was taken to the airport in Garson’s private car – I’ve got the number – and paraded in handcuffs until we approached Washington. They weren’t put back on, definitely not on the return trip, when I was under FBI escort. Shouldn’t I have been taken by the US Marshall’s office?’
    â€˜Technically, perhaps.’
    â€˜That’s what technicalities are for, rules to be observed.’
    â€˜The moment Howitt disappeared, you handed yourself over to airport police.’
    â€˜They could be called as witnesses. The FBI who got called in didn’t believe Howitt’s story. And there’s to be an internal enquiry, like I told you.’
    â€˜When you went into Reagan terminal it was just the two of you – you and Howitt?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Come on, let’s get it over with!
    â€˜No other witnesses?’
    â€˜There’s the airport policemen.’
    â€˜Who weren’t involved until you went up to them? No one actually witnessed Howitt ducking away?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜It’s your