AcclaimforEricAmblerand

THELIGHTOFDAY

“Mr.Amblerisaphenomenon.”—AlfredHitchcock

“Ambleristhebestspynovelistofalltime.”—SanFranciscoChronicle

“Amblercombinespoliticalsophistication,agiftforcreatingmemorablecharacters and a remarkable talent for turning exciting stories intonovelsofwonderfulentertainment.”

—ChicagoTribune

“Amblertowersovermostofhisnewerimitators.”—LosAngelesTimes

“ArthurAbdelSimpson…isoneoffiction’smostdelightfulrogues,andhisadventuresprovidethebestAmblerentertainmentinyears.”

—AnthonyBoucher

“Ambler may well be the best writer of suspense stories.… He is themastercraftsman.”

—Life

“Amblerisincapableofwritingadullparagraph.”—TheSundayTimes(London)

“Ambleris,quitesimply,thebest.”—TheNewYorker

EricAmbler

THELIGHTOFDAY

Eric Ambler was born in London in 1909. Before turning towriting full-time,heworkedatanengineering firmandwrotecopyforanadvertisingagency.Hisfirstnovelwaspublishedin1936.Duringthecourseofhiscareer,AmblerwasawardedtwoGoldDaggers,aSilverDagger,andaDiamondDaggerfromtheCrime Writers Association of Great Britain, named a GrandMaster by the Mystery Writers Association of America, andmade anOfficer of theOrder of theBritish Empire byQueenElizabeth.Inadditiontohisnovels,Amblerwroteanumberofscreenplays, includingANight toRemember andTheCruelSea,which won him an Oscar nomination. Eric Ambler died in1998.

ALSOBYERICAMBLER

TheDarkFrontier

BackgroundtoDanger

EpitaphforaSpy

CauseforAlarm

ACoffinforDimitrios

JourneyIntoFear

JudgmentonDeltchev

TheSchirmerInheritance

StateofSiege

PassageofArms

TheAbilitytoKillandOtherPieces(Essays)AKindofAnger

ToCatchaSpy(Editor)TheIntercomConspiracy

TheLevanter

DoctorFrigo

SendNoMoreRoses

TheCareofTime

HereLiesEricAmbler(Autobiography)TheStorySoFar

FIRSTVINTAGECRIME/BLACKLIZARDEDITION,DECEMBER2004

Copyright©1962andrenewedin1990byEricAmbler

AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.PublishedintheUnitedStatesby

VintageBooks,adivisionofRandomHouse,Inc.,NewYork,andsimultaneouslyinCanadabyRandomHouseofCanadaLimited,Toronto.OriginallypublishedinGreatBritainbyHeinemann,London,andinhardcoverintheUnitedStatesbyAlfredA.Knopf,

adivisionofRandomHouse,Inc.,NewYork,in1962.

VintageisaregisteredtrademarkandVintageCrime/BlackLizardandcolophonaretrademarksofRandomHouse,Inc.

TheLibraryofCongresshascatalogedtheKnopfeditionasfollows:

Ambler,Eric,1909–Thelightofday/EricAmbler.—1stAmericaned.

p.cm.I.Title.

PZ3.A48Li263007762

eISBN:978-0-30795001-7

www.vintagebooks.com

v3.1

Contents

CoverAbouttheAuthorOtherBooksbyThisAuthorTitlePageCopyright

Chapter1

Chapter2

Chapter3

Chapter4

Chapter5

Chapter6

Chapter7

Chapter8

Chapter9

Chapter10

Chapter11

Chapter12

AlsobyEricAmbler

1

Itcamedowntothis:ifIhadnotbeenarrestedbytheTurkishpolice,IwouldhavebeenarrestedbytheGreekpolice.Ihadnochoicebuttodoas this man Harper told me. He was entirely responsible for whathappenedtome.IthoughthewasanAmerican.HelookedlikeanAmerican—tall,with

theloose,lightsuit,thenarrowtieandbutton-downcollar,thesmooth,old-young,young-oldfaceandthecrewcut.HespokelikeanAmerican,too;oratleastlikeaGermanwhohaslivedinAmericaforalongtime.Ofcourse,InowknowthatheisnotanAmerican,buthecertainlygavethat impression. His luggage, for instance, was definitely American;plasticleatherandimitationgoldlocks.IknowAmericanluggagewhenIseeit.Ididn’tseehispassport.He arrived at the Athens airport on a plane from Vienna. He could

have come from New York or London or Frankfurt or Moscow andarrived by that plane—or just from Vienna. It was impossible to tell.Therewerenohotellabelsontheluggage.IjustassumedthathecamefromNewYork.Itwasamistakeanyonemighthavemade.Thiswillnotdo.Icanalreadyhearmyselfprotestingtoomuch,asifI

hadsomethingtobeashamedof;butIamsimplytryingtoexplainwhathappened,tobecompletelyfrankandopen.Ireallydidnotsuspectthathewasnotwhatheseemed.Naturally,I

approachedhimattheairport.Thecar-hirebusinessisonlyatemporarysidelinewithme,ofcourse—Iamajournalistbyprofession—butNickihadbeencomplainingaboutneedingmorenewclothes,andtherentwasdueontheflatthatweek.Ineededmoney,andthismanlookedasifhehadsome.Isitacrimetoearnmoney?Thewaysomepeoplegoonyouwould think it was. The law is the law and I am certainly notcomplaining,butwhatIcan’tstandisallthehumbugandhypocrisy.Ifamangoestothered-lightdistrictonhisown,nobodysaysanything.But

ifhewantstodoanotherchap,afriendoranacquaintance,agoodturnby showing him theway to the best house, everyone starts screamingbluemurder. I have no patience with it. If there is one thing I pridemyselfonitismycommonsense—thatandmysenseofhumor.MycorrectnameisArthurSimpson.No!IsaidIwouldbecompletelyfrankandopenandIamgoingtobe.MycorrectfullnameisArthurAbdelSimpson.TheAbdelisbecausemymotherwasEgyptian.Infact,IwasborninCairo.ButmyfatherwasaBritishofficer,a regular,and ImyselfamBritish to thecore.EvenmybackgroundistypicallyBritish.Myfatherrosefromtheranks.HewasaRegimentalSergeantMajorinthe Buffs when I was born; but in 1916 he was commissioned as aLieutenantQuartermasterintheArmyServiceCorps.Wewerelivinginofficers’marriedquarters in Ismailiawhenhewaskilledayear later. Iwas too young at the time to be told the details. I thought, naturally,thathemusthavebeenkilledbytheTurks;butMumtoldmelaterthathe had been run over by an army lorry as hewaswalking home onenightfromtheofficers’mess.Mumhadhispension,ofcourse,butsomeonetoldhertowritetotheArmy Benevolent Association for the Sons of FallenOfficers, and theygotmeintotheBritishschoolinCairo.Shestillkeptonwritingtothemaboutme, though.When Iwasnine, theysaid that if therewere somerelative inEngland Icould livewith, theywouldpay formyschoolingthere. Therewas amarried sister of father’s living at Hither Green inSouth-East London. When the Benevolent Association said that theywouldpay twelve-and-sixaweek formykeep, sheagreed tohaveme.Thiswasagreat relief toMumbecause itmeant that she couldmarryMr.Hafiz,whohadnever likedmeafter theday Icaught theminbedtogether and told the Imam about it. Mr. Hafiz was in the restaurantbusinessandwasasfatasapig.ItwasdisgustingforamanofhisagetobeinbedwithMum.I went to England on an army troop ship in care of the sickbaymatron. I was glad to go. I have never liked being where I am notwanted.MostofthemeninthesickbaywereV.D.cases,andIusedtolisten to them talking. I picked up quite a lot of useful information,beforethematron,whowas(thereisnootherword)anoldbitch,foundoutaboutitandhandedmeovertotheP.T.instructorfortherestofthe

voyage. My aunt in Hither Green was a bitch, too, but I was wantedthereallright.Shewasmarriedtoabookkeeperwhospenthalfhistimeoutofwork.Mytwelve-and-sixaweekcameinveryhandy.Shedidn’tdare get too bitchy. Every so often, a man from the BenevolentAssociationwouldcomedowntoseehowIwasgettingon.IfIhadtoldhimthetaletheywouldhavetakenmeaway.Likemostboysofthatage,IsupposeIwaswhatisknownowadaysas“abitofahandful.”The school was on the Lewisham side of Blackheath and had a bigboardoutsidewithgoldletteringonit:

CORAM’SGRAMMARSCHOOLFortheSonsofGentlemen

FOUNDED1781

Ontopoftheboardtherewastheschoolcoatofarmsandmotto,Mensaequa in arduis. The Latin master said it was from Horace; but theEnglishmaster likedtotranslateit inKipling’swords:“Ifyoucankeepyourheadwhenallaboutyouarelosingtheirs…you’llbeaMan,myson!”ItwasnotexactlyapublicschoollikeEtonorWinchester;therewereno boarders,wewere all day boys; but it was run on the same lines.Yourparents,or(asinmycase)guardian,hadtopaytosendyouthere.There were a few scholarship boys from the local council schools—IthinkwehadtohavethembecauseoftheBoardofEducationsubsidy—butnevermore than twentyor so in thewhole school. In1920anewHeadwasappointed.HisnamewasBrushandwenicknamedhim“TheBristle.”He’dbeenamasteratabigpublicschoolandsoheknewhowthings should be done. Hemade a lot of changes. After he came, weplayed rugger insteadof soccer, sat in forms insteadof in classes, andwere taught how to speak like gentlemen. One or two of the oldermastersgotthesack,whichwasagoodthing;andTheBristlemadeallthemastersweartheiruniversitygownsatprayersinthemorning.Ashesaid,Coram’swasaschoolwithagoodtradition,andalthoughwemightnot be as old as Eton orWinchester,wewere a good deal older thanBrighton or Clifton. All the swotting in theworldwas no good if youdidn’thavecharacterandtradition.Hemadeusstopreadingtrashlikethe Gem and Magnet and turn to worthwhile books by authors likeStevensonandTalbotBainesReed.

Iwastooyoungwhenmyfatherwaskilledtohaveknownhimwell;butoneortwoofhispetsayingshavealwaysremainedinmymemory;perhapsbecauseIheardhimrepeatthemsooftentoMumortohisarmyfriends. One, I remember, was “Never volunteer for anything,” andanotherwas“Bullshitbafflesbrains.”Hardlytheguidingprinciplesofanofficerandagentleman,yousay?

Well,Iamnotsosureaboutthat;butIwon’targue.Icanonlysaythattheyweretheguidingprinciplesofapractical,professionalsoldier,andthatatCoram’stheyworked.Forexample,Ifoundoutveryearlyonthatnothingannoyedthemastersmorethanuntidyhandwriting.Withsomeof them, in fact, thewronganswer to aquestionneatlywrittenwouldgetalmostasmanymarksastherightanswerbadlywrittenorcoveredwithsmearsandblots.Ihavealwayswrittenveryneatly.Again,whenamaster asked something and then said “Hands up who knows,” youcouldalwaysputyourhandupevenifyoudidnotknow,aslongasyoulettheeagerbeaversputtheirhandsupfirst,andaslongasyousmiled.Smiling—pleasantly, I mean, not grinning or smirking—was veryimportantatalltimes.Themastersdidnotbotheraboutyousomuchifyoulookedasifyouhadaclearconscience.Igotonfairlywellwiththeotherchaps.BecauseIhadbeenbornin

Egypt,ofcourse,theycalledme“Wog,”but,asIwasfair-hairedlikemyfather, I did not mind that. My voice broke quite early, when I wastwelve.Afterawhile, I startedgoinguptoHillyFieldsatnightwithafifth-former named Jones iv,whowas fifteen, andweused to pick upgirls—“square-pushing,”astheysayinthearmy.Isoonfoundthatsomeof thegirlsdidn’tmindabit ifyouputyourhandup their skirts, andevendidabitmore.Sometimeswewouldstayoutlate.ThatmeantthatIusedtohavetogetupearlyanddomyhomework,ormakemyauntwriteanexcusenoteformetotaketoschoolsayingthatIhadbeensenttobedafterteawithafeverishheadache.Iftheworsecametotheworst,IcouldalwayscribfromaboynamedReeseanddothewrittenworkinthe lavatory. He had very bad acne and neverminded if you cribbedfromhim;infactIthinkhelikedit.Butyouhadtobecareful.Hewasoneof thebookwormsandusuallygoteverythingright. Ifyoucribbedfrom himword forword you risked getting fullmarks.Withme, thatwouldmakethemastersuspicious. Igot tenoutof ten forachemistrypaper once, and themaster canedme for cheating. I had never really

liked the man and I got my revenge later by pouring a test tube ofsulphuricacid(conc.)over thesaddleofhisbicycle;but Ihavealwaysremembered the lesson that incident taught me. Never try to pretendthatyou’rebetterthanyouare.IthinkIcanfairlysaythatIneverhave.Of course, an English public-school education ismainly designed tobuild character, to give a boy a sense of fair play and sound values,teachhim to take the roughwith the smooth,andmakehim lookandsoundlikeagentleman.Coram’satleastdidthosethingsforme;and,lookingback,Isupposethat Ishouldbegrateful. Ican’tsaythat Ienjoyedtheprocess though.Fighting, for instance: thatwas supposed tobeverymanly,and ifyoudid not enjoy it they called you “cowardy custard.” I don’t think it iscowardlynot towant someone tohit youwithhis fist andmakeyournose bleed. The trouble was that when I used to hit back I alwayssprainedmythumborgrazedmyknuckles.Intheend,Ifoundthebestway tohitbackwaswitha satchel, especially ifyouhadapenor thesharp edge of a ruler sticking out through the flap; but I have alwaysdislikedviolenceofanykind.AlmostasmuchasIdislikeinjustice.MylasttermatCoram’s,whichIshouldhavebeenabletoenjoybecauseitwas thelast,wascompletelyspoiled.Jonesivwasresponsibleforthat.Hehadleftschoolbythen,andwasworkingforhisfather,whoownedagarage,butIstillwentuptoHillyFields with him sometimes. One evening he showed me a long poemtypedoutonfourfoolscappages.Acustomeratthegaragehadgivenittohim. Itwas calledTheEnchantment andwas supposed tohavebeenwrittenbyLordByron.Itbegan:

Upononedarkandsultryday,AsonmygarretbedIlay,Mythoughts,forIwasdreaminghalf,Werebrokenbyasilverylaugh,Whichfelluponmystartledear,Fullloudandclearandverynear.

Well, it turnedout that the laughwascoming throughahole in thewallbehindhisbed,sohelookedthroughthehole.

Ayouthandmaidwereintheroom,Andeachinyouth’smostbeauteousbloom.

Itthenwentontodescribewhattheyouthandmaiddidtogetherforthenexthalfhour—verypoetically,ofcourse,butindetail.Itwasreallyhotstuff.I made copies and let some of the chaps at school read it. Then I

charged them fourpence a time to be allowed to copy it out forthemselves.Iwasmakingquitealotofmoney,whensomefourth-formboyleftacopyinthepocketofhiscricketblazerandhismotherfoundit. Her husband sent it with a letter of complaint to The Bristle. Hebeganquestioning theboysonebyone to findoutwhohad started it,and,ofcourse,heeventuallygotbacktome.IsaidIhadbeengivenitbyaboywhohad left the termbefore—TheBristlecouldn’t touchhim—but I don’t think he believed me. He sat tapping his desk with hispencilandsaying“filthysmut”overandoveragain.Helookedveryredintheface,almostasifhewereembarrassed.Irememberwonderingifhecouldbeabit“queer.”Finally,hesaidthatasitwasmylasttermhewould not expel me, but that I was not to associate with any of theyoungerboysfortherestofmytimethere.Hedidnotcanemeorwriteto the Benevolent Association, which was a relief. But it was a badexperienceall thesameandIwasquiteupset. Infact, I thinkthatwasthereasonIfailedmymatriculation.AtCoram’stheymadeafetishoutofpassingyourmatric.Apparently,

you couldn’t get a respectable job in a bankor an insurance companywithoutit.Ididnotwantajobinabankoraninsurancecompany—Mr.HafizhaddiedandMumwantedmetogobackandlearntherestaurantbusiness—but itwasadisappointmentall thesame. I think that ifTheBristle had beenmore broad-minded and understanding, notmademefeelas if Ihadcommitted somesortof crime, thingswouldhavebeendifferent.IwasasensitiveboyandIfeltthatCoram’shadsomehowletmedown.ThatwasthereasonIneverappliedtojointheOldCoramiansClub.Now,ofcourse,Icanlookbackonthewholethingandsmileaboutit.

ThepointIammakingisthatpersonsinauthority—headmasters,policeofficials—candoagreatdealofdamagesimplybyfailingtounderstandtheotherfellow’spointofview.

HowcouldIhavepossiblyknownwhatkindofmanthisHarperwas?AsIexplained,IhadsimplydrivenouttotheAthensairportlooking

forbusiness.IspottedthismangoingthroughcustomsandsawthathewascarryinghisticketinanAmericanExpressfolder.Igaveoneoftheporters two drachmas to get me the man’s name from his customsdeclaration.ThenIhadoneof theuniformedairlinegirlsgivehimmycardandthemessage:“CarwaitingoutsideforMr.Harper.”ItisatrickIhaveusedlotsoftimesandithasalmostalwaysworked.

NotmanyAmericans or British speak demoticGreek; and by the timethey have been through the airport customs, especially in the hotweather,andbeenjostledbytheportersandelbowedrightandleft,theyareonlytooreadytogowithsomeonewhocanunderstandwhatthey’retalkingaboutand takecareof the tipping.Thatday itwas reallyveryhotandhumid.AshecamethroughtheexitfromthecustomsIwentuptohim.“Thisway,Mr.Harper.”Hestoppedandlookedmeover.Igavehimahelpfulsmile,whichhe

didnotreturn.“Waitaminute,”hesaidcurtly.“Ididn’torderanycar.”I lookedpuzzled.“TheAmericanExpresssentme,sir.Theysaidyou

wantedanEnglish-speakingdriver.”He staredatmeagain, then shrugged. “Well, okay. I’mgoing to the

HotelGrande-Bretagne.”“Certainly,sir.Isthisallyourluggage?”SoonafterweturnedoffthecoastroadbyGlyphadahebegantoask

questions.WasIBritish?Iside-steppedthatoneasusual.Wasthecarmyown?Theyalwayswanttoknowthat. It ismyowncar,as ithappens,andIhavetwospeechesaboutit.Thecaritselfisa1954Plymouth.Withan American I brag about how many thousands of miles it has donewithoutanytrouble.FortheBritishersIhaveastiff-upper-liplineaboutpart-exchangingit,assoonasIcansaveenoughextracash,foranAustinPrincess, or an old Rolls-Royce, or some other real quality car. Whyshouldn’tpeoplebetoldwhattheywanttohear?ThisHarpermanseemedmuchliketherest.Helistenedandgrunted

occasionally as I told him the tale. When you know that you arebeginningtoborethem,youusuallyknowthateverythingisgoingtobeall right. Then, you stop. He did not ask how I happened to live and

workinGreece,astheyusuallydo.Ithoughtthatwouldprobablycomelater;thatis,ifthereweregoingtobealaterwithhim.Ihadtofindout.“AreyouinAthensonbusiness,sir?”“Couldbe.”Histoneasgoodastoldmetomindmyownbusiness,butIpretendednottonotice.“Iask,sir,”Iwenton,“becauseifyoushouldneedacaranddriverwhile you arehere I could arrange to placemyself at yourdisposal.”“Yes?”Itwasn’t exactly encouraging, but I told him the daily rate and thevarioustripswecouldtakeifhewantedtodosomesight-seeing—Delphiandtherest.“I’llthinkaboutit,”hesaid.“What’syourname?”Ihandedhimoneofmycardsovermyshoulderandwatchedhiminthedrivingmirrorwhilehereadit.Thenheslippeditintohispocket.“Areyoumarried,Arthur?”Thequestion tookmeby surprise. Theydon’t usuallywant to knowaboutyourprivatelife.Itoldhimaboutmyfirstwifeandhowshehadbeenkilledbyabombin theSuez troubles in1956. IdidnotmentionNicki.Idon’tknowwhy;perhapsbecauseIdidnotwanttothinkaboutherjustthen.“YoudidsayyouwereBritish,didn’tyou?”heasked.“MyfatherwasBritish,sir,andIwaseducatedinEngland.”Isaiditalittledistantly.Idislikebeingcross-examinedinthatsortofway.Buthepersistedjustthesame.“Well,whatnationalityareyou?”“IhaveanEgyptianpassport.”Thatwasperfectlytrue,althoughitwasnoneofhisbusiness.“WasyourwifeEgyptian?”“No,French.”“Didyouhaveanychildren?”“Unfortunatelyno,sir.”Iwasdefinitelycoldnow.“Isee.”Hesatbackstaringoutof thewindow,andIhadthefeelingthathehadsuddenlyputmeoutofhismindaltogether.IthoughtaboutAnnetteand how used I had become to saying that she had been killed by abomb.Iwasalmostbeginningtobelieveitmyself.AsIstoppedforthe

trafficlightsinOmoniasSquare,Iwonderedwhathadhappenedtoher,andifthegallantgentlemenshehadpreferredtomehadevermanagedtogiveherthechildrenshehadsaidshewanted.Iamnotonetobearagrudge, but I could not help hoping that she believed now that thesterilityhadbeenhersnotmine.IpulledupattheGrande-Bretagne.WhiletheportersweregettingthebagsoutofthecarHarperturnedtome.“Okay,Arthur,it’sadeal.Iexpecttobeherethreeorfourdays.”Iwassurprisedandrelieved.“Thankyou,sir.WouldyouliketogotoDelphitomorrow?Ontheweekendsitgetsverycrowdedwithtourists.”“We’lltalkaboutthatlater.”Hestaredatmeforamomentandsmiledslightly. “Tonight I think I feel like going out on the town. You knowsomegoodplaces?”Ashesaidittherewasjustthesuggestionofawink.Iamsureofthat.Ismileddiscreetly.“Icertainlydo,sir.”“Ithoughtyoumight.Pickmeupatnineo’clock.Allright?”“Nine o’clock, sir. Iwill have the concierge telephone to your roomthatIamhere.”It was four-thirty then. I drove to my flat, parked the car in thecourtyard,andwentup.Nickiwasout,ofcourse.Sheusuallyspenttheafternoonwithfriends—orsaidshedid.IdidnotknowwhothefriendswereandIneveraskedtoomany questions. I did not want her to lie to me, and, if she hadpickedupaloverattheClub,Ididnotwanttoknowaboutit.Whenamiddle-agedmanmarriesanattractivegirlhalfhisage,hehastoacceptcertainpossibilitiesphilosophically.Theclothesshehadchangedoutofwerelyingalloverthebedandshehadspilledsomescent,sothattheplacesmelledmorestronglyofherthanusual.TherewasaletterformefromaBritishtravelmagazineIhadwrittento. They wanted me to submit samples of my work for theirconsideration. I tore the letter up. Practically thirty years in themagazine game and they treat you like an amateur! Send samples ofyourwork,andthenext thingyouknowis that they’vestolenallyourideaswithout paying you a penny-piece. It has happened tome againandagain,andIamnotbeingcaughtthatwayanymore.Iftheywantme to write for them, let them say so with a firm offer of cash ondelivery,plusexpensesinadvance.

Imadea fewtelephonecalls tomakesure thatHarper’seveningoutwouldgosmoothly,andthenwentdowntothecaféforadrinkortwo.When IgotbackNickiwas there,changingagain togo toworkat theClub.It was no wish of mine that she should go on working after our

marriage. She chose to do so herself. I suppose some men would bejealous at the idea of their wives belly dancing with practically noclothes on in front of othermen; but I amnot narrow-minded in thatway.Ifshechoosestoearnalittleextrapocketmoneyforherself,thatisheraffair.Whileshedressed,ItoldheraboutHarperandmadeajokeaboutall

hisquestions.Shedidnotsmile.“Hedoesnotsoundeasy,papa,”shesaid.Whenshecallsme“papa”

likethatitmeansthatsheisinafriendlymoodwithme.“Hehasmoneytospend.”“Howdoyouknow?”“ItelephonedthehotelandaskedforhiminRoom230.Theoperator

correctedmeandsoIgothisrealroomnumber.Iknowit.Itisabigair-conditionedsuite.”She looked atmewith a slight smile and sighed. “You do somuch

enjoyit,don’tyou?”“Enjoywhat?”“Findingoutaboutpeople.”“Thatismynewspapertraining,chérie,mynosefornews.”She looked at me doubtfully, and I wished I had given a different

answer.Ithasalwaysbeendifficultformetoexplaintoherwhycertaindoorsarenowclosedtome.Reopeningoldwoundsissenselessaswellaspainful.Sheshruggedandwentonwithherdressing.“Willyoubringhimto

theClub?”“Ithinkso.”Ipouredheraglassofwineandoneformyself.Shedrankherswhile

she finished dressing and then went out. She pattedmy cheek as shewent, but did not kiss me. The “papa” mood was over. “One day,” Ithought,“shewillgooutandnotcomeback.”But Iamneverone tomope. If thathappened, Idecided, thengood

riddancetobadrubbish.Ipouredmyselfanotherglassofwine,smoked

a cigarette, andworked out a tactful way of finding out what sort ofbusiness Harper was in. I think I must have sensed that there wassomethingnotquiterightabouthim.AtfivetonineIfoundaparkingplaceonVenizelosAvenuejustround

thecornerfromtheGrande-Bretagne,andwenttoletHarperknowthatIwaswaiting.HecamedownaftertenminutesandItookhimroundthecornerto

thecar.Iexplainedthatitwasdifficultforprivatecarstoparkinfrontofthehotel.Hesaid,ratherdisagreeablyIthought:“Whocares?”Iwondered if he had been drinking. Quite a lot of touristswho, in

their own countries, are used to dining early in the evening, startdrinking ouzo to pass the time. By ten o’clock, when most Atheniansbegintothinkaboutdinner,thetouristsaresometimestootighttocarewhat theysayordo.Harper,however,wasall toosober. I soon foundthatout.Whenwe reached the car I opened the rear door for him to get in.

Ignoringme,heopenedtheotherdoorandgotintothefrontpassengerseat.Verydemocratic.OnlyIhappentoprefermypassengersinthebackseatwhereIcankeepmyeyeonthemthroughthemirror.Iwentroundandgotintothedriver’sseat.“Well,Arthur,”heasked,“whereareyoutakingme?”“Dinnerfirst,sir?”“Howaboutsomeseafood?”“I’lltakeyoutothebest,sir.”I drove him out to the yacht harbor at Tourcolimano. One of the

restaurants theregivesmeagoodcommission.Thewaterfront isreallyverypicturesque,andhenoddedapprovinglyashelookedaround.Then,Itookhimintotherestaurantandintroducedhimtothecook.WhenhehadchosenhisfoodandabottleofdryPatraswinehelookedatme.“Youeatenyet,Arthur?”“Oh, Iwillhave something in thekitchen, sir.”Thatwaymydinner

wouldgoonhisbillwithouthisknowingit,aswellasmycommission.“Youcomeandeatwithme.”“Itisnotnecessary,sir.”“Whosaiditwas?Iaskedyoutoeatwithme.”“Thankyou,sir.Iwouldliketo.”

Moredemocracy.Wesatatatableontheterracebythewater’sedgeandhebegantoaskmeabouttheyachtsanchoredintheharbor.Whichwereprivatelyowned,whichwereforcharter?Whatwerecharterrateslike?I happened to know about one of the charter yachts, an eighteen-

meter ketchwith twindiesels, and told him the rate-onehundred andfortydollarsU.S.perday,includingacrewoftwo,fuelforeighthours’steamingaday,andeverythingexceptcharterer’sandpassengers’food.The real ratewas a hundred and thirty, but I thought that, if by anychancehewasserious,Icouldgetthedifferenceascommissionfromthebroker. I also wanted to see how he felt about that kind of money;whether hewould laugh as an ordinary salariedmanwould, or beginaskingaboutthenumberofpersonsitwouldsleep.Hejustnodded,andthenaskedaboutfast,sea-goingmotorboatswithoutcrew.InthelightofwhathappenedIthinkthatpointisspeciallysignificant.I said that Iwould findout.Heaskedmeabout theyachtbrokers. I

gavehimthenameoftheoneIknewpersonally,andtoldhimtherestwere no good. I also said that I did not think that the owners of thebiggerboatslikedcharteringthemwithouttheirowncrewmenonboard.Hedidnotcommentonthat.Later,heaskedmeifIknewwhetheryachtcharterpartiesoutofTourcolimanoorthePiraeuscoveredGreekwatersonly,orwhetheryoucould“goforeign,”sayacrosstheAdriatictoItaly.Significantagain.ItoldhimIdidnotknow,whichwastrue.Whenthebillcame,heaskedifhecouldchangeanAmericanExpress

traveler’scheckforfiftydollars.Thatwasmoretothepoint.Itoldhimthathecould,andhetorethefifty-dollarcheckoutofabookoften.ItwasthebestthingIhadseenthatday.Justbeforeeleveno’clockweleft,andIdrovehimtotheClub.The Club is practically a copy of the Lido night club in Paris, only

smaller. I introduced him to John, who owns the place, and tried toleavehimthereforawhile.Hewasstillabsolutelysober,andIthoughtthat ifhewerebyhimselfhewoulddrinkmore;but itwasnogood. Ihad to go in and sit and drink with him. He was as possessive as awoman.Iwaspuzzled.IfIhadbeenafresh-lookingyoungmaninsteadof,well,frankly,apotbelliedjournalist,Iwouldhaveunderstoodit—notapproved,of course,butunderstood.Buthewasat least tenor fifteenyearsyoungerthanme.

They have candles on the tables at the Club and you can see faces.Whenthefloorshowcameon,Iwatchedhimwatchit.Helookedatthegirls, Nicki among them, as if they were flies on the other side of awindow. I asked him how he liked the third from the left—that wasNicki.“Legstooshort,”hesaid.“Ilikethemwithlongerlegs.Isthattheone

youhadinmind?”“In mind? I don’t understand, sir.” I was beginning to dislike him

intensely.Heeyedme.“Shoveit,”hesaidunpleasantly.WeweredrinkingGreekbrandy.Hereachedforthebottleandpoured

himselfanother.Icouldseethemusclesinhis jawtwitchingasifwithanger.EvidentlysomethingIhadsaid,orwhichhethoughtIhadsaid,hadannoyedhim.ItwasonthetipofmytonguetomentionthatNickiwasmywife, but I didn’t. I remembered, just in time, that I hadonlytoldhimaboutAnnette,andaboutherbeingkilledbyabomb.Hedrankthebrandydownquicklyandtoldmetogetthebill.“Youdon’tlikeithere,sir?”“Whatmoreistheretosee?Dotheystartstrippinglater?”Ismiled.Itistheonlypossibleresponsetothatsortofboorishness.In

anycase,Ihadnoobjectiontospeedingupmyprogramfortheevening.“Thereisanotherplace,”Isaid.“Likethis?”“The entertainment, sir, is a little more individual and private.” I

pickedthewordscarefully.“Youmeanacathouse?”“Iwouldn’tputitquitelikethat,sir.”Hesmirked.“I’llbetyouwouldn’t.Howabout‘maisonderendezvous’?

Doesthatcoverit?”“MadameIrma’sisverydiscreetandeverythingisinthebestoftaste,

sir.”He shook with amusement. “Know something, Arthur?” he said. “If

youshavedabitcloserandhadyourselfagoodhaircut,youcouldhireoutasabutleranytime.”FromhisexpressionIcouldnottellwhetherhewasbeingdeliberately

insulting ormaking a clumsy joke. It seemed advisable to assume thelatter.

“IsthatwhatAmericanscall‘ribbing,’sir?”Iaskedpolitely.Thisseemedtoamusehimevenmore.Hechuckledfatuously.“Okay,

Arthur,” he said at last, “okay.We’ll play it yourway. Let’s go to seeyourMadameIrma.”Ididn’tlikethe“yourMadameIrma”wayofputtingit,butIpretended

nottonotice.Irma has a very nice house standing in its own grounds just off the

roadouttoKephisia.Sheneverhasmorethansixgirlsatanyonetimeandchangesthemeveryfewmonths.Herpricesarehigh,ofcourse,buteverything is very well arranged. Clients enter and leave by differentdoorstoavoidembarrassingencounters.Theonlypersonstheclientseesare Irma herself, Kira, themanageresswho takes care of the financialside,and,naturally,theladyofhischoice.Harperseemedtobe impressed. Isay“seemed”becausehewasvery

polite to Irmawhen I introduced them, and complimented her on thedecorations. Irma is not unattractive herself and likes presentable-looking clients. As I had expected, there was no nonsense about myjoininghimatthattable.AssoonasIrmaofferedhimadrink,heglancedatmeandmadeagestureofdismissal.“Seeyoulater,”hesaid.Iwassurethenthateverythingwasallright.IwentintoKira’sroom

tocollectmycommissionandtellherhowmuchmoneyhehadonhim.Itwasaftermidnightthen.IsaidthatIhadhadnodinnerandwouldgoand get some. She told me that they were not particularly busy thatnightandthatthereneedbenohurry.I drove immediately to the Grande-Bretagne, parked the car at the

side, walked round to the bar, and went in and ordered a drink. Ifanyone happened to notice me and remember later, I had a simpleexplanationforbeingthere.I finishedthedrink,gavethewaiteragoodtip,andwalkedthrough

across the foyer to the lifts. They are fully automatic; youwork themyourselfwithpushbuttons.Iwentuptothethirdfloor.Harper’s suite was on the inner court, away from the noise of

SyntagmaiosSquare,andthedoorstoitwereoutofsightofthelanding.Thefloorservantshadgoneoffdutyforthenight.Itwasallquiteeasy.Asusual,Ihadmypasskeyhiddeninsideanoldchangepurse;but,asusual, I did not need it. Quite a number of the sitting-room doors to

suitesintheolderpartofthehotelcanbeopenedfromoutsidewithoutakey,unlesstheyhavebeenspeciallylocked,thatis;itmakesiteasierforroom-servicewaiterscarryingtrays.Oftenthemaidwhoturnsdownthebeds last thing can’tbebothered to lockupafterher.Why shouldshe? The Greeks are a particularly honest people and they trust oneanother.Hisluggagewasallinthebedroom.Ihadalreadyhandleditoncethatday,stowingitinthecarattheairport,soIdidnothavetoworryaboutleavingfingerprints.Iwenttohisbriefcasefirst.Therewerealotofbusinesspapersinit—something to do with a Swiss company named Tekelek, who madeaccountingmachines—Ididnotpaymuchattentiontothem.Therewasalsoawalletwithmoneyinit—Swissfrancs,Americandollars,andWestGerman marks—together with the yellow number slips of over twothousand dollars’ worth of traveler’s checks. The number slips are forrecord purposes in case the checks are lost and you want to stoppaymentonthem.Ileftthemoneywhereitwasandtooktheslips.Thechecks themselves I found in the sidepocketofa suitcase.Therewerethirty-five of them, each for fifty dollars. His first name was Walter,middleinitialK.Inmyexperience,mostpeopleareextraordinarilycarelessabout theway they look after traveler’s checks. Just because their counter-signature is required before a check can be cashed, they assume thatonlytheycannegotiateit.Yetanyonewitheyesinhisheadcancopytheoriginalsignature.Noparticularskillisrequired;haste,heat,adifferentpen, a counter of an awkward height, writing standing up instead ofsitting—a dozen things can account for small variations in the secondsignature.Itisnotgoingtobeexaminedbyahandwritingexpert,notatthetimethatitiscashedanyway;andusuallyitisonlyatbanksthatthecashieraskstoseeapassport.Anotherthing:ifyouhaveordinarymoneyinyourpocket,youusuallyknow,atleastapproximately,howmuchyouhave.Everytimeyoupayfor something, you receivea reminder; youcan seeand feelwhatyouhave.Notsowithtraveler’schecks.Whatyousee,ifandwhenyoulook,isabluefolderwithchecksinside.Howoftendoyoucountthecheckstomake sure that theyareall there?Supposing someonewere to removethebottomcheckinafolder.Whenwouldyoufindoutthatithadgone?

Ahundredtooneitwouldnotbeuntilyouhadusedupallthecheckswhich had been on top of it. Therefore, you would not know exactlywhen ithadbeen taken;and, ifyouhadbeendoingany traveling,youprobably would not even know where. If you did not know when orwhere,howcouldyoupossiblyguesswho?Inanycaseyouwouldbetoolatetostopitsbeingcashed.Peoplewholeavetraveler’schecksaboutdeservetolosethem.I took just six checks, the bottom ones from the folder. That madethreehundreddollars,andlefthimfifteenhundredorso.Itisamistake,Ialwaysthink,tobegreedy;butunfortunatelyIhesitated.ForamomentIwondered if hewouldmiss them all thatmuch sooner if I took twomore.SoIwasstandingtherelikeafool,withthechecksrightinmyhands,whenHarperwalkedintotheroom.

2

Iwasinthebedroomandhecamethroughfromthesittingroom.Allthesame he must have opened the outer door very quietly indeed, or Iwould certainly have heard the latch. I think he expected to find methere.Inthatcase,thewholethingwasjustacunninglyplannedtrap.Iwasstandingatthefootofoneofthebeds,soIcouldn’tmoveaway

fromhim.Foramomenthejuststoodtheregrinningatme,asifhewereenjoyinghimself.“Well now, Arthur,” he said, “you ought to have waited for me,

oughtn’tyou?”“Iwasgoingback.”Itwasastupidthingtosay,Isuppose;butalmost

anythingIhadsaidwouldhavesoundedstupidatthatpoint.And then, suddenly, he hitme across the facewith the back of his

hand.Itwaslikebeingkicked.MyglassesfelloffandIlurchedbackagainst

thebed.AsIraisedmyarmstoprotectmyselfhehitmeagainwiththeotherhand.WhenI started to fall tomyknees,hedraggedmeupandkeptonhittingme.Hewaslikeasavage.Ifelldownagainandthistimeheletmebe.Myearsweresinging,my

headfelt likebursting,andIcouldnotseeproperly.Mynosebegantobleed.Igotmyhandkerchiefouttostopthebloodfromgettingallovermyclothes,andfeltaboutamongthecheckslyingonthecarpetformyglasses. I found themeventually.Theywerebentabitbutnotbroken.WhenIputthemon,Isawthesolesofhisshoesaboutayardfrommyface.Hewassittinginthearmchair,leaningback,watchingme.“Getup,”hesaid,“andwatchthatblood.Keepitofftherug.”As I got tomy feet, he stood up quickly himself. I thought he was

goingtostarthittingmeagain. Instead,hecaughtholdofone lapelofmyjacket.

“Doyouhaveagun?”Ishookmyhead.He slapped my pockets, to make sure, I suppose, then shoved meaway.“There are some tissues in the bathroom,” he said. “Go clean yourface.Butleavethedooropen.”IdidasIwastold.Therewasawindowinthebathroom;butevenifithadbeenpossibletoescapethatwaywithoutbreakingmyneck,Idon’tsupposeIwouldhavetriedit.Hewouldhaveheardme.Besides,wherecouldIhaveescapedto?Allhewouldhavehadtodowascalldowntothe night concierge, and the police would have been there in fiveminutes. The fact that he had not called down already was at leastsomething.Perhaps,asaforeigner,hedidnotwanttogetinvolvedasawitnessinacourtcase.Afterall,hehadnotactuallylostanything;andif Iwere to eat enough humble pie, perhaps even cry a bit, hemightdecidetoforgetthewholething;especiallyafterthebrutalwayinwhichhe had attacked me. That was my reasoning. I should have knownbetter.YoucannotexpectcommondecencyfromamanlikeHarper.When I cameout of thebathroom, I saw thathehadpickedup thecheck folder andwasputting it back in the suitcase.The checks Ihadtorn out, however, were lying on the bed. He gathered them up andmotionedmetowardsthesittingroom.“Inthere.”AsIwentin,hemovedpastmetothedoorandboltedit.There was a marble-topped commode against the side wall. On thecommodewasa traywithan icebucket,abottleofbrandy,and someglasses.Hepickedupaglass,thenlookedatme.“Sitdownrightthere,”hesaid.Thechairhemotionedtowasbyawritingtableunderthewindow.Iobeyed orders; there did not seem to be anything else to do.Mynosewasstillbleeding,andIhadaheadache.Hesloppedsomebrandyintotheglassandputitonthetablebesideme.ForamomentortwoIfeltencouraged.Ifyouaregoingtohaveamanarrestedyoudon’tsithimdownfirstandgivehimadrink.Perhapsitwas justgoing tobeaman-to-manchat inwhich I toldhimahard-luck story and saidhow sorry Iwas,while he got dewy-eyedover hisownmagnanimityanddecidedtogivemeanotherchance.

Thatonedidnotlastlong.Hepouredhimselfadrinkandthenglancedacrossatmeasheputiceintheglass.“Firsttimeyou’vebeencaughtatit,Arthur?”Iblewmynosea little tokeepthebloodrunningbeforeIanswered.“It’s thefirst timeI’veeverbeentempted,sir. Idon’tknowwhatcameoverme.PerhapsitwasthebrandyIhadwithyou.I’mnotreallyusedtoit.”Heturnedandstaredatme.Allatoncehisfacewasneitherold-youngnor young-old. Itwaswhite andpinched andhismouthworked in anoddway.IhaveseenfacesgolikethatbeforeandIbracedmyself.Therewasametallamponthewritingtablebesideme.IwonderedifIcouldpossiblyhithimwithitbeforehegottome.Buthedidnotmove.Hiseyesflickeredtowardsthebedroomandthenbacktome.“You’d better get something straight, Arthur,” he said slowly. “Thatwasjustalittleroughingupyouhadinthere.IfIreallystartgivingyouagoingover,you’ll leavehereona stretcher.Nobody’sgoing tomindaboutthatexceptyou.Icamebackandcaughtyoustealing.Youtriedtostrong-armyourwayoutofitandIhadtodefendmyself.That’showit’llbe.Socutoutthebull,andthelies.Right?”“I’msorry,sir.”“Emptyyourpockets.Onthistablehere.”IdidasIwastold.Helookedateverything,mydrivinglicense,mypermisdeséjour,andhetouchedeverything.Finally,ofcourse,he foundthepasskey in thechangepurse.IhadsawnofftheshankofitandcutaslotintheendsothatIcoulduseasmallcointoturnit,butitwasstillovertwoincheslong,andheavy.Theweightgaveitaway.Helookedatitcuriously.“Youmakethis?”“Notthekeypart.Ijustcutitdown.”Thereseemednopointintryingtolieaboutthat.Henodded. “That’sbetter.Okay,we’ll startover.Weknowyou’reatwo-bitponceandweknowyouheisttraveler’schecksfromhotelroomswhenyougetthechance.Doyouwritethecounter-signatureyourself?”“Yes.”“Sothat’sforgery.Now,I’maskingagain.Haveyoueverbeencaught

before?”“No,sir.”“Sure?”“Yes.”“Doyouhaveanysortofpolicerecord?”“HereinAthens?”“We’llstartwithAthens.”I hesitated. “Well, not exactly a police record. Do youmean traffic

offenses?”“YouknowwhatImean.Quitstalling.”I sneezed, quite unintentionally, andmynose began bleeding again.

Hesighedimpatientlyandthrewmeabunchofpapernapkinsfromthedrinktray.“Ihadyouprettywellfiguredoutattheairport,”hewenton;“butI

didn’tthinkyou’dbequitesostupid.WhydidyouhavetotellthatKiradamethatyou’dhadnodinner?”Ishruggedhelplessly.“SothatIcouldcomehere.”“Whydidn’t you tell her you’d gone to gas up the car? I justmight

haveboughtthatone.”“Itdidn’tseemimportant.Whyshouldyoususpectme?”Helaughed.“Ohbrother!Iknowwhatthatcaryouhavesellsforhere,

and I know that gasoline costs sixty cents a gallon. At the rates youcharge you couldn’t break even. Okay, you get your payoffs—therestaurant,theclipjoint,thecathouse—buttheycan’tamounttomuch,so theremustbe somethingelse.Kiradoesn’tknowwhat it is,but sheknows there’s something because you’ve cashed quite a few traveler’schecksthroughher.”“She told you that?” This really upsetme; the least one can expect

fromabrothelkeeperisdiscretion.“Whyshouldn’tshetellme?Youdidn’ttellhertheywerestolen,did

you?”Hedrankhisbrandydown.“Idon’thappentolikepayingforsex,butIwantedtofindoutabitmoreaboutyou.Idid.WhentheyrealizedthatIwasn’tgoingtoleavewithoutpaying,theywerebothrealfriendly.Calledmeacabandeverything.Now,supposingyoustarttalking.”Itookasipofbrandy.“Verywell.Ihavehadthreeconvictions.”“Whatfor?”“Thechargeineachcasewasrepresentingmyselfasanofficialguide.

Infact,allIdidwastotrytosaveoneortwoclientsfromthoseboringarchaeological set speeches. The official guides have to learn them byheartbeforetheycanpasstheexamination.Touristsliketoknowwhattheyarelookingat,buttheydonotwanttobebored.”“Whathappened?Didyougotojail?”“Ofcoursenot.Iwasfined.”Henoddedapprovingly.“ThatwaswhatIrmathought.Nowyoujustkeeponplayingitstraight likethatandmaybewecankeepthepoliceoutofthis.Haveyoueverbeenjailedanywhere,toservetime,Imean?”“IdonotseewhyIshould…”“Okay,skipit,”hebrokein.“WhataboutTurkey?”“Turkey?Whydoyouask?”“Haveyoubeenthere?”“Yes.”“Anypolicerecordthere?”“IwasfinedinIstanbulforshowingsomepeopleroundamuseum.”“Whichmuseum?”“TheTopkapi.”“Wereyouposingasanofficialguidethattime?”“Guidesmustbelicensedthere.Ididnothavealicense.”“HaveyoueverdrivenfromheretoIstanbul?”“Isthatacriminaloffense?”“Justanswer.Haveyou?”“Occasionally.Sometouristsliketotravelbyroad.Why?”Hedidnotanswer.Instead,hetookanenvelopefromthewritingdeskand began to scribble something in pencil. I desperately needed acigarette,butwasafraidtolightoneincaseitmightlookasifIwerenolongerworried.Iwasworried,andconfused,too;butIwantedtobesureIlookedthatway.Idrankthebrandyinstead.He finished his scribbling at last and looked up. “All right, Arthur.There’sapadofplainpaperthereandapen.I’mgoingtodictate.Youstartwriting.No,don’tgivemeanyarguments.JustdoasItellyou.”Iwashopelesslybewilderednow.Ipickedupthepen.“Ready?”“Yes.”“Headit:TotheChiefofPolice,Athens.Gotthat?Nowgoon.I,ArthurA. Simpson, of—put in your address—do hereby confess that on June

fifteenth,usinganillegalpasskey,IenteredthesuiteofMr.WalterK.HarperintheHotelGrande-BretagneandstoleAmericanExpresstraveler’scheckstothevalueofthreehundreddollars.Thenumbersofthecheckswere…”Ashefeltinhispocketfortheloosechecks,Istartedtoprotest.“Mr.Harper,Ican’tpossiblywritethis.Itwouldconvictme.Icouldn’t

defendmyself.”“Would you sooner defend yourself right now? If so, I can call the

police, andyou can explain about thatpass key.”Hepausedand thenwentonmorepatiently.“Look,dad,maybeyouand Iwillbe theonlyoneswhowilleverreadit.Maybeinaweek’stimeitwon’tevenexist.I’mjustgivingyouachancetogetoffthehook.Whydon’tyoutakeitandbethankful?”“WhatdoIhavetodoforit?”“We’ll get to that later. Just you keep writing. The numbers of the

checks were P89.664.572 through P89.664.577, all in fifty-dollar units. Iintended to forgeMr.Harper’s signatureon themso that Icouldcash themillegally.Ihavestolen,forged,andcashedotherchecksinthatway.Shutupandkeepwriting!ButnowIfindIcannotgothroughwithit.BecauseofMr.Harper’s great kindness tome during his visit to Athens, and his Christiancharity,IfeelthatIcannotrobhim.Iam,therefore,sendingthechecksIstolefromhimbackwiththisletter.Bytakingthisdecision,IfeelthatIhavecomeoutofthedarknessintothelightofday.Iknownowthat,asasinneroftheworsttype,myonlychanceistomakerestitution,toconfesseverything,andto pay the penalties the law demands. Only in this way can I hope forsalvationintheworldtocome.Nowsignit.”Isignedit.“Nowdateitaweekfromtoday.No,bettermakeitthetwenty-third.”Idatedit.“Giveittome.”Igaveit tohimandhereadit throughtwice.Thenhelookedatme

andgrinned.“Nottalkinganymore,Arthur?”“Iwrotedownwhatyoudictated.”“Sure. And now you’re trying to figure outwhatwould happen if I

sentittothepolice.”Ishrugged.“Allright,I’lltellyouwhatwouldhappen.Firstthey’dthinkyouwere

anut.They’dprobablythinkthatIwassomekindofanut,too,buttheywouldn’tbeinterestedinme.Iwouldn’tbearoundanyway.Ontheotherhand,theycouldn’tignorethewholething,becauseofthechecks.Threehundreddollars! They’dhave to take that seriously. So they’d start bygettingontotheAmericanExpressandfindingoutaboutallthecheckforgeriesthathavebeentracedbacktoaccountsinAthensbanks.Thenthey’dpullyouinandgrillyou.Whatwouldyoudo,Arthur?Tellthemaboutmeandwhatreallyhappened?You’dbesillytodothat,wouldn’tyou?They’dthrowthebookatyou.No,you’retoosmartforthat.You’dgoalongwiththereformationjazz.Thatway,you’dhavearealdefense—voluntaryconfession,restitution,sincererepentance.I’llbetyou’dgetawaywithjustanominalsentence,maybenomorethanayear.”“Thankyou.”He grinned again. “Don’t youworry,Arthur.You’re not going to do

anytimeatall.”HewavedthepaperIhadwrittenandthechecks.“Thisisjustalittleinsurance.”Hepickedupthebrandybottleandrefilledmyglass. “You see, a friend ofmine is going to trust youwith somethingvaluable.”“What?”“Acar.You’regoingtodriveittoIstanbul.You’llbepaidahundred

bucksandexpenses.That’sallthereistoit.”Imanaged to smile. “If that’s all there is to it, I don’t seewhy you

have to blackmail me. I would gladly do the job every week for thatmoney.”He looked pained. “Who said anything about blackmail? I said

insurance.Thisisaseven-thousand-dollarLincoln,Arthur.Doyouknowwhatit’sworthnowinTurkey?”“Fourteenthousand.”“Well then, isn’t it obvious? Supposing you drove it into the first

garageyoucametoandsoldit.”“Itwouldn’tbesoeasy.”“Arthur, you took a hell of a risk tonight for just three hundred

dollars. For fourteen thousand you’d do pretty well anything, nowwouldn’tyou?Beyourage!Asitis,Idon’thavetoworry,andmyfrienddoesn’thavetoworry.Assoonas Iknowthecar’sdelivered, this littleconfession’llbetornupandthechecks’llgobackinmypocket.”Iwassilent.Ididn’tbelieveawordhewassayingandheknewit.He

didn’t care. Hewas watchingme, enjoying himself. “All right,” I saidfinally;“buttherearejustoneortwoquestionsI’dliketoask.”Henodded.“Surethereare.Onlythat’stheoneconditionthereisonthejob,Arthur—noquestions.”Iwouldhavebeensurprisedifhesaidanythingelse.“Verywell.WhendoIstart?”“Tomorrow.HowlongdoesittaketodrivetoSalonika?”“Aboutsixorsevenhours.”“Let’ssee.Tomorrow’sTuesday.Ifyoustartaboutnoonyoucanspendthe night there. Then Wednesday night in Edirne. You should makeIstanbulThursdayafternoon.That’llbeokay.”Hethoughtforamoment.“I’ll tell youwhat youdo. In themorning, youpack anovernight bagandcomeherebycaborstreetcar.Bedownstairsatten.”“WheredoIpickupthecar?”“I’llshowyouinthemorning.”“Whateveryousay.”Heunboltedthedoor.“Gooddeal.Nowtakeyourjunkandbeatit.Ihavetogetsomesleep.”Iputmybelongingsbackinmypocketsandwenttothedoor.“Hey!”AsIturned,somethinghitmeinthechestandthenfellatmyfeet.“You’veforgottenyourpasskey,”hesaid.Ipickeditupandleft.Ididn’tsaygoodnightoranything.Hedidn’tnotice.Hewasfinishinghisdrink.Theworstthingatschoolwasbeingcaned.Therewasaritualaboutit.Themasterwhohadlosthistemperwithyouwouldstopranting,or,ifitwasoneofthequietones,stopclenchinghisteeth,andsay:“Takeanoteto theHeadmaster.”Thatmeantyouwere for it.Thenotewas alwaysthe same,Request permission to punish, followed by his initials; but hewould always fold it twice before he gave it to you. You were notsupposedtoreadit.Idon’tknowwhy;perhapsbecausetheydidn’tlikehavingtoaskforpermission.Well, thenyouhadtogoandfindTheBristle.Sometimes,ofcourse,hewouldbe inhisstudy;butmoreoftenhewouldbe takingthesixthform in trigonometryorLatin.Thatmeantyouhad togo inandstandthereuntilhedecidedtonoticeyou.Youwouldhavetowaitfiveortenminutessometimes;itdependedonthemoodhewasin.Hewasatall,

thick man with a lot of black hair on the backs of his hands, and apurpleface.Hespokeveryfastwhilehewasteaching,andafterawhilelittle flecks of white stuff would gather at the corners of his mouth.Whenhewasinagoodmood,hewouldbreakoffalmostassoonasyoucameinandstartmakingjokes.“Ah,thegoodSimpson,orperhapsweshould say the insufficiently goodSimpson,what canwedo for you?”Whateverhesaid, thesixth formalwaysrockedwith laughter,becausethemore they laughed, the longerhewouldgoonwasting time.“Andhowhaveyoutransgressed,Simpson,howhaveyoutransgressed?Pleasetell us.” You always had to say what you’d done or not done—badhomework, lying, flicking ink pellets—and you had to be truthful, incaseheaskedthemasterlater.Whenhehadmadesomemorejokes,heinitialedthenoteandyouwent.BeforethatEnchantmentbusinessIthinkheratherlikedme,becauseIpretendednottobeabletohelplaughingathisjokeseventhoughIwasgoingtobecaned.Whenhewasinabadmood he used to call you “sir,” which I always thought a bit stupid.“Well,sir,whatisthisfor?Cribbingunderthedesk?Apauperspirit,sir,a pauper spirit! Work, for the night cometh! Now get out and stopwastingmytime.”Whenyoureturnedtotheformroomyougavethemastertheinitialednote.Then,hetookhisgownoff,sothathisarmswerefree,andgotthecaneoutofhisdesk.The caneswereall the same, about thirty incheslongandquitethick.Somemasterswouldtakeyououtsideintothecoatlobbytodo it,butotherswoulddo it in frontof the form.Youhadtobenddownandtouchyourtoesandthenhewouldhityouashardashecould,asifheweretryingtobreakthecane.Itfeltlikeahotironacrossyourbackside,andifhehappenedtohittwiceinexactlythesameplace,like a heavy clubwith spikes on it. The great thingwas not to cry ormakeafuss.Irememberaboyoncewhowethimselfafteritandhadtobesenthome;andtherewasanotheronewhocamebackintotheroomand threwup, so that themaster had to send for the school porter tocleanup themess. (Theyalways sent for theporterwhenaboy threwup,andhealwayssaidthesamethingwhenhecameinwithhisbucketand mop—“Is this all?”—as if he were disappointed it wasn’t blood.)Mostboys,though,whentheywerecaned,justgotveryredinthefaceand tried to walk back to their places as if nothing had happened. Itwasn’tpride;itwastheonlywaytogetanysympathy.Whenaboycried

you didn’t feel sorry for him, merely embarrassed because he was sosorry for himself, and resentful because themasterwould feel that hehaddonesomethingeffective.OneofthemostvaluablethingsIlearnedatCoram’swashowtohate;anditwasthecanethattaughtme.IneverforgotandneverbegantoforgiveacaninguntilIhadsomehowevenedthescorewiththemasterwhohadgivenittome.Ifheweremarried,Iwould write an anonymous letter to his wife saying that he was asodomiteandthathehadbeentryingtointerferewithyoungboys.Ifhewereabachelor,Iwouldsenditasawarningtooneoftheotherboys’parents.MostlyIneverheardwhathappened,ofcourse;butonatleasttwo occasions I heard that the parents had questioned their boys andthenforwardedmyletterstoTheBristle.Inevertoldanyone,becauseIdid not want the others copying my idea; and as I was very good atdisguisingmywriting,themastersneverknewforcertainwhohaddoneit. Just as long as they had a suspicion they could not prove, I wassatisfied. Itmeant that they knew I could hit back, that Iwas a goodfriendbutabadenemy.MyattitudetoHarperwasthesame.Hehadgivenmea“caning”;but

insteadofwallowinginself-pity,asanyothermaninmypositionmighthavedone,IbegantothinkofwaysinwhichIcouldhitback.Obviously, there was nothing much I could do while he had that

“confession”;but Iknewone thing—hewasacrook. Ididn’tknowyetwhatkindofacrook—althoughIhadsomeideas—butIwouldfindoutfor certain sooner or later. Then, when it was safe to do so, I wouldexposehimtothepolice.Nickiwas in bedwhen I got back to the flat. I had hoped that she

wouldbeasleep,becauseonesideofmyfacewasveryredwherehehadhitmeandIdidn’twanttohavetodoanyexplaining;butshehadthelightonandwasreadingsomeFrenchfashionmagazine.“Hullo,papa,”shesaid.I said hullo back and went to the bathroom to get rid of the

handkerchiefwithall thebloodonit.ThenIwent inandbegantogetundressed.“Youdidn’tstaylongattheClub,”shesaid.“HewantedtogoontoIrma’s.”She did not like that, of course. “Did you find out anymore about

him?”

“Heisabusinessman—accountingmachines, I think.HehasafriendwhoownsaLincoln.HewantsmetodriveittoIstanbulforhim.Istarttomorrow.He’spayingquitewell—ahundreddollarsAmerican.”Shesatupat that. “That’sverygood, isn’t it?”And then, inevitably,

shesawmyface.“Whathaveyoudonetoyourself?”“I had a bit of an accident. Some fool in a Simca. I had to stop

suddenly.”“Didthepolicecome?”She had a tiresome habit of assuming that, just because Iwas once

accused (falsely) of causing an accident through driving while drunk,every little trafficaccident inwhichIaminvolvedisgoingtoresult inmybeingprosecutedbythepolice.“Itwasn’timportant,”Isaid.Iturnedawaytohangupmysuit.“Will you be long away?” She sounded as if she had accepted the

accident.“Two or three days. I shall come back suddenly by air and surprise

youwithalover.”Ithoughtthatwouldamuseher,butshedidnotevensmile.Igotinto

bedbesideherandsheputthelightout.Afterafewmomentsshesaid:“WhydoesamanlikeMr.Harperwanttogotoahouse?”“Probablybecauseheisimpotentanywhereelse.”Shewas silent for a time. Then she put up a hand and touchedmy

face.“Whatreallyhappened,papa?”Iconsideredtellingher;butthatwouldhavemeantadmittingopenly

thatIhadliedabouttheaccident,soIdidnotanswer.Afterawhile,sheturnedawayfrommeandwenttosleep.Shewasstillasleep,orpretendingtobe,whenIleftinthemorning.Harper kept me waiting ten minutes; just long enough for me to

rememberthatIhadforgottentodisconnectthebatteryonmycar.Itdidnotholditschargeverywellanyway,andtheelectricclockwouldhaverunitdownbythetimeIreturned.IwaswonderingifIwouldhavetimeto telephoneNicki and tell her to ask the concierge to disconnect thebattery,whenHarpercamedown.“Allset?”heasked.“Yes.”“We’llgetacab.”

HetoldthedrivertogotoSteleStreetoutinthePiraeus.Assoonaswewereontheway,heopenedthebriefcaseandtookout

a large envelope. It had not been there the night before; of that I amcertain.Hegaveittome.“There’severythingyou’llneedthere,”hesaid;“carnetdetourismefor

the car, insurance Green Card, a thousand Greek drachma, a hundredTurkishlira,andfiftyAmericandollarsforemergencies.Thecarnethasbeen countersigned authorizing you to take it through customs, butyou’dbettercheckeverythingoutyourself.”Ididso.ThecarnetshowedthatthecarwasregisteredinZurich,and

that the owner, or at any rate the person in legal charge of it, was aFräuleinElizabethLipp.HeraddresswasHotelExcelsior,Laufen,Zurich.“IsMissLippyourfriend?”Iasked.“That’sright.”“Arewegoingtomeethernow?”“No,butmaybeyou’llmeetherinIstanbul.Ifthecustomsshouldask,

tell them she doesn’t like eight-hundred-and-fifty-mile drives, andpreferredtogotoIstanbulbyboat.”“Issheatourist?”“Whatelse?She’sthedaughterofabusinessassociateofmine.I’mjust

doinghimafavor.Andbytheway,ifshewantsyoutodriveheraroundinTurkeyyou’llbeabletopickupsomeextradough.Maybeshe’llwantyou todrive the carbackhere later. Idon’tknowyetwhather futureplansare.”“Isee.”ForsomeonewhohadtoldmethatIwasn’ttoaskquestions,

he was being curiously outgoing. “Where do I deliver the car inIstanbul?”“Youdon’t.YougototheParkHotel.There’llbearoomreservation

foryouthere.JustcheckinonThursdayandwaitforinstructions.”“Verywell.WhendoIgetthatletterIsigned?”“Whenyou’repaidoffattheendofthejob.”Stele Street was down at the docks. By an odd coincidence there

happened to be a ship of theDenizyollari Line berthed right opposite;and itwas takingonacar throughoneof thesideentryports. IcouldnothelpglancingatHarper to see if hehadnoticed; but if hehadhegavenosignofthefact.Imadenocomment.Ifheweresimplyignorant,Iwas not going to enlighten him. If he still really thought that I was

foolishenoughtobelievehisversionofFräuleinLipp’stravelneedsandarrangements, so much the better. I could look after myself. Or so Ithought.Therewasagaragehalfwayalongthestreet,withanoldMichelintire

signaboveit.Hetoldthecabdrivertostopthereandwait.Wegotoutandwenttowardstheoffice.Therewasamaninside,andwhenhesawHarper through the window he came out. He was thin and dark andworeagreasybluesuit.IdidnothearHarperaddresshimbyanyname,buttheyappearedtoknowoneanotherquitewell.Unfortunately,theyspoketogetherinGerman,whichisalanguageIhaveneverlearned.Afteramomentor two, theman led theway througha small repair

shopandacrossascrapyardtoarowoflock-upgarages.HeopenedoneofthemandtherewastheLincoln.Itwasagrayfour-doorContinental,andlookedtomeaboutayearold.ThemanhandedHarperthekeys.Hegotin,startedup,anddroveitoutofthegarageintotheyard.Thecarseemedamilelong.Harpergotout.“Okay,” he said. “She’s all gassed up and everything. You can start

rolling.”“Verywell.”Iputmybagonthebackseat.“Iwouldjustliketomake

aphonecallfirst.”Hewasinstantlywary.“Whoto?”“Theconciergeatmyapartment.IwanttolethimknowthatImaybe

away longer than I said, andaskhim todisconnect thebatteryonmycar.”Hehesitated,thennodded.“Okay.Youcandoitfromtheoffice.”He

saidsomethingtothemaninthebluesuitandweallwentbackinside.NickiansweredthetelephoneandItoldheraboutthebattery.When

she started to complain that I had notwakened her to say good-by, Ihungup.IhadspokeninGreek,butHarperhadbeenlistening.“Thatwasawoman’svoice,”hesaid.“Theconcierge’swife.Isthereanythingwrong?”HesaidsomethingtothemaninthebluesuitofwhichIunderstood

oneword,Adressat.IguessedthathehadwantedtoknowifIhadgiventheaddressofthegarage.Themanshookhishead.Harper lookedatme.“No,nothingwrong.But just rememberyou’re

workingformenow.”“WillIseeyouinIstanbulorbackhere?”

“You’llfindout.Nowgetgoing.”IspentaminuteortwomakingsurethatIknewwhereallthecontrols

were,whileHarperandtheothermanstoodwatching.ThenIdroveoffandheadedbacktowardsAthensandtheThebes-Larissa-Salonikaroad.AfterabouthalfamileInoticedthatthetaxiwehadusedonthedrive

outtherewasbehindme.Iwasdrivingslowly,gettingusedtothefeelofthe car, and the taxi would normally have passed me; but it stayedbehind.Harperwasseeingmeonmyway.About fivemilesbeyondAthens I saw the taxipull off the roadand

start to turn around. I was on my own. I drove on for another fortyminutesorso,until Ireachedthefirstof thecottonfields, thenturnedoffdownasideroadandstoppedintheshadeofsomeacacias.I spent a good half hour searching that car. First I looked in the

obviousplaces: in thebackof thespare-wheelcompartment,undertheseatcushions,upbehindthedashboard.ThenItookoffallthehubcaps.It’ssurprisinghowbigthecavitiesarebehindsomeofthem,especiallyonAmericancars.Iknewofamanwhohadregularlysmugglednearlytwo kilos of heroin a time that way. These had nothing in them,however.SoItriedthetank,pokingaboutwithalongtwigtoseeifanysortofacompartmenthadbeenbuiltintoorontoit;thathasbeendone,too.AgainIdrewablank.Iwouldhavelikedtocrawlunderneathtoseeifanynewweldinghadbeendone,buttherewasnotenoughclearance.I decided to put the car into a garage greasing bay in Salonika andexamine the underside from below. Meanwhile, there was an air-conditioner in thecar, so Iunscrewed thecoverandhada look insidethat.Anotherblank.The trouble was that I did not have the slightest idea what I was

lookingfor—jewelry,drugs,gold,orcurrency.Ijustfeltthattheremustbe something. After a bit, I gave up searching and sat and smoked acigarettewhileItriedtoworkoutwhatwouldbeworthsmugglingintoTurkeyfromGreece. Icouldnot thinkofanything. Igot thecarnetoutandcheckedthecar’sroute.IthadcomefromSwitzerland,viaItalyandtheBrindisiferry,toPatras.ThecounterfoilsshowedthatFräuleinLipphadbeenwiththecarherselfthen.She,atleast,didknowaboutferryingcarsbysea.However,thatonlymadethewholethingmoremysterious.And then I remembered something. Harper had spoken of the

possibilityofareturnjourney,ofmybeingwantedtodrivethecarback

fromIstanbultoAthens.Supposingthatwastherealpointofthewholething.IdrivefromGreeceintoTurkey.Everythingisperfectlyopenandaboveboard.BothGreekandTurkishcustomswouldseeandremembercarandchauffeur.Somedays later, thesamecarandchauffeurreturn.“HowwasIstanbul,friend?Isyourstomachstillwithyou?Anythingtodeclare?Nofat-tailedsheephiddenintheback?Pass,friend,pass.”AndthenthecargoesbacktothegarageinthePiraeus,forthemanintheblue suit to recover the packages of heroin concealed along the innerrecessesofthechassismembers,underthewheelarchesofthebody,andinside the cowling beside the automatic transmission. Unless, that is,thereisaMacedoniansonofabitchontheGreeksidewho’souttowinhimselfamedal. In thatevent,whatyouget is the strangecaseof therespectable Swiss lady’s disreputable chauffeur who gets caughtsmugglingheroin;andYoursTrulyisupthecreek.AllIcoulddowasplayitbyear.I got the Lincoln back on the road again and drove on. I reachedSalonikasoonaftersixthatevening.Justtobeonthesafeside,Ipulledintoabiggarageandgavetheboyacoupleofdrachmastoputthecaruponthehydrauliclift.IsaidIwaslookingforarattle.Therewerenosigns of new welding. I was not surprised. By then I had pretty wellmadeupmymindthatitwouldbethereturnjourneythatmattered.Ifoundasmallcomfortablehotel,treatedmyselftoagooddinnerandabottleofwineatHarper’sexpense,andwenttobedearly.Imadeanearly start the following morning, too. It is an eight-hour run fromSalonikaacrossThracetotheTurkishfrontiernearEdirne(Adrianople,asitusedtobecalled),andifyouarrivelate,yousometimesfindthattheroad-trafficcustomsposthasclosedforthenight.I arrived at about four-thirty and went through the Greek controlwithoutdifficulty.AtKaraagac,ontheTurkishside,Ihadtowaitwhiletheyclearedsomefarmtrucksaheadofme.Afterabouttwentyminutes,however, I was able to drive up to the barrier.When Iwent into thecustoms post with the carnet and my other papers, the place waspracticallyempty.Naturally,Iwasmoreconcernedaboutthecarthanwithmyself,soIsimplyleftmypassportandcurrencydeclarationwiththesecurityman,andwentstraightovertothecustomsdesktohandinthecarnet.Everythingseemedtobegoingallright.Acustomsinspectorwentout

tothecarwithme,lookedinmybag,andmerelyglancedinthecar.Hewasboredandlookingforwardtohissupper.“Tourisme?”heasked.“Yes.”We went back inside and he proceeded to stamp and validate thecarnetforthecar’sentry,andtearouthispartofthecounterfoil.HewasjustfoldingthecarnetandhandingitbackwhenIfeltasharptaponmyshoulder.Itwas the securityman.Hehadmypassport inhis hand. Iwent totakeit,butheshookhisheadandbeganwavingitundermynoseandsayingsomethinginTurkish.IspeakEgyptianArabicandtherearemanyArabicwordsinTurkish;buttheTurkspronouncetheminafunnywayandusea lotofPersianandoldTurkishwordsmixedupwiththem.Ishruggedhelplessly.ThenhesaiditinFrenchandIunderstood.Mypassportwasthreemonthsoutofdate.I knew at once how it had happened. Earlier in the year I had hadsome differences with the Egyptian consular people (or “United ArabRepublic,” as they preferred to call themselves) and had allowed thewholequestionofmypassporttoslide.Infact,Ihadmadeupmymindto tell the Egyptians what they could do with their passport, andapproach the British with a view to reclaiming my United Kingdomcitizenship,towhich,Iwanttomakeitclear,Iamperfectlyentitled.Thethingwas that,being sobusy, Ihad justnotbothered to fill inall thenecessaryforms.MyGreekpermisdeséjourwasinorder,andthatwasallI normally needed in theway of papers. Frankly, I find all this paperregimentation we have to go through nowadays extremely boring.Naturally,withalltheanxietyIhadhadoverHarper,Ihadnotthoughtto look at the date onmypassport. If I had known that itwas out ofdate,obviouslyIwouldhavetakenmoretroublewiththesecurityman,kepthiminconversationwhilehewasdoingthestampingorsomethinglikethat.Ihaveneverhadanybotherlikethatbefore.Asitwas,thewholethingbecameutterlydisastrous;certainlythroughno fault ofmine. The securityman refused to stamp the passport. HesaidthatIhadtodrivebacktoSalonikaandhavethepassportrenewedbytheEgyptianvice-consultherebeforeIcouldbeadmitted.Thatwouldhavebeen impossibleas ithappened;but Ididnoteven

have to try to explain why. The customs inspector chimed in at thatpoint, waving the carnet and shouting that the car had been admittedandwasnowlegallyinTurkey.AsIhadnotbeenadmittedandwasnot,therefore,legallyinTurkey,howwasI,legally,totakethecaroutagain?Whatdiditmatterifthepassportwasoutofdate?Itwasonlyamatterofthreemonths.Whydidhenotjuststampthepassport,admitme,andforgetaboutit?At least thatwaswhat I thinkhesaid.Theyhad lapsed intoTurkishnowandwerebawlingatoneanotherasifIdidnotexist.IfIcouldhavegotthesecuritymanalone,Iwouldhavetriedtobribehim;butwiththeotheronethereitwastoodangerous.Finally,theybothwentofftoseesome superior officer and left me standing there, without carnet orpassport,butwith,Iadmititfrankly,abadcaseofthejitters.Really,myonly hope at that point was that they would do what the customsinspectorwantedandoverlookthedateonthepassport.With any luck, that might have happened. I say “with any luck,”althoughthingswouldstillhavebeenawkwardeveniftheyhadletmethrough.IwouldhavehadsomehowtobuyanEgyptianconsularstampinIstanbulandforgetherenewalinthepassport—noteasy.OrIwouldhavehadtohavegonetotheBritishConsulate-General,reportedalostBritishpassport,andtriedtowinkleatemporarytraveldocumentoutofthembeforetheyhadhadtimetocheckup—noteasyeither.Butatleastthosewouldhavebeen the sortofdifficulties aman inmyanomalouspositionwouldunderstandandcouldcopewith.Thedifficultiesthat,infact, I did have to facewere quite outside anything I had ever beforeexperienced.I stoodthere in thecustomsshed forabout tenminutes,watchedbyan armed guard on the door who looked as if he would have likednothingbetterthananexcuseforshootingme.Ipretendednottonoticehim;buthispresencedidnotimprovematters.Infact,Iwasbeginningtogetanattackofmyindigestion.Afterawhile,thesecuritymancamebackandbeckonedtome.Iwentwithhim,alongapassagewithasmallbarrackroomoffit,toadoorattheend.“Whatnow?”IaskedinFrench.“YoumustseetheCommandantofthepost.”Heknockedatthedoorandusheredmein.

Insidewasasmallbareofficewithsomehardchairsandagreenbaizetrestletableinthecenter.Thecustomsinspectorstoodbesidethetable.Seatedat itwasamanofaboutmyownagewithalined,sallowface.He wore some sort of officer’s uniform. I think he belonged to themilitarysecuritypolice.Hehadthecarnetandmypassportonthetableinfrontofhim.He lookedupatmedisagreeably. “This is yourpassport?”He spokegoodFrench.“Yes, sir. And I can only say that I regret extremely that I did notnoticethatitwasnotrenewed.”“Youhavecausedalotoftrouble.”“I realize that, sir. I must explain, however, that it was only onMonday evening that I was asked to make this journey. I left earlyyesterdaymorning.Iwasinahurry.Ididnotthinktocheckmypapers.”Helookeddownatthepassport.“Itsaysherethatyouroccupationisthat of journalist. You told the customs inspector that you were achauffeur.”Sohehadaninquiringmind;myheartsank.“Iamactingasachauffeur,sir.Iwas,Iamajournalist,butonemustliveandthingsarenotalwayseasyinthatprofession.”“So now you are a chauffeur, and the passport is incorrect in yetanother particular, eh?” It was a very unfair way of putting it, but Ithoughtitaswelltolethimhavehismoment.“One’s fortunes change, sir. In Athens I have my own car, which Idriveforhire.”Hepeered, frowning, at the carnet. “This carhere is theproperty ofElizabethLipp.Issheyouremployer?”“Temporarily,sir.”“Whereisshe?”“InIstanbul,Ibelieve,sir.”“Youdonotknow?”“Heragentengagedme,sir—todrivehercartoIstanbul,wheresheisgoingasatourist.ShepreferstomakethejourneytoIstanbulbysea.”Therewas an unpleasant pause.He looked through the carnet againandthenupatmeabruptly.“Whatnationalityisthiswoman?”“Idon’tknow,sir.”

“Whatage?Whatsortofwoman?”“Ihaveneverseenher,sir.Heragentarrangedeverything.”“AndsheisgoingfromAthenstoIstanbulbysea,whichtakestwenty-

fourhours,butshesendshercarfourteenhundredkilometersandthreedaysbyroad. If shewants thecar in Istanbul,whydidn’t she take thecar on the boat with her? It is simple enough and costs practicallynothing.”Iwasonlytoowellawareof it. Ishrugged.“Iwaspaidtodrive,sir,

andwellpaid.Itwasnotformetoquestionthelady’splans.”Heconsideredmeforamoment,thendrewasheetofpapertowards

him and scribbled a few words. He handed the result to the customsinspector,whoread,nodded,andwentoutquickly.TheCommandantseemedtorelax.“Yousayyouknownothingabout

thewomanwhoownsthecar,”hesaid.“Tellmeaboutheragent.Isitatravelbureau?”“No, sir, a man, an American, a friend of Fräulein Lipp’s father he

said.”“What’shisname?Whereishe?”I told him everything I knew about Harper, and the nature of my

relationship with him. I did not mention the disagreement over thetraveler’schecks.Thatcouldhavebeenofnointeresttohim.He listened in silence, nodding occasionally. By the time I had

finished, his manner had changed considerably. His expression hadbecomealmostamiable.“Haveyoudriventhiswaybefore?”heasked.“Severaltimes,sir.”“Withtourists?”“Yes,sir.”“Everwithouttourists?”“No,sir.TheyliketovisitOlympus,Salonika,andAlexandropolison

theirwaytoIstanbul.”“ThendidyounotthinkthisproposalofMr.Harper’sstrange?”I permitted myself to smile. “Monsieur le Commandant,” I said, “I

thoughtitsostrangethattherecouldbeonlytwopossiblereasonsforit.The first was thatMr. Harper was somuch concerned to impress thedaughter of a valuable business associate with his savoir-faire that heneglectedtoaskanyone’sadvicebeforehemadehisarrangements.”

“Andthesecond?”“That he knew that uncrated cars carried in Denizyollari ships to

Istanbulmustbeaccompaniedbytheownerasapassenger,andthathedidnotwish tobepresentwhen thecarwas inspectedbycustoms forfear that somethingmight bediscovered in the car that shouldnot bethere.”“Isee.”Hesmiledslightly.“Butyouhadnosuchfear.”Wewere getting cozier by theminute. “Monsieur le Commandant,” I

said,“Imaybeatriflecarelessabouthavingmypassportrenewed,butIam not a fool. The moment I left Athens yesterday, I stopped andsearchedthecar thoroughly,underneathaswellasontop, thewheels,everywhere.”Therewasaknockonthedoorandthecustomsinspectorcameback.

He put a sheet of paper down in front of the Commandant. TheCommandant read it and his face suddenly tightened. He looked upagainatme.“Yousayyousearchedeverywhereinthecar?”“Yes,sir.Everywhere.”“Didyousearchinsidethedoors?”“Well,no,sir.Theyaresealed.Iwouldhavedamaged…”He said something quickly in Turkish. Suddenly the security man

lockedanarm roundmyneckand ranhis freehandovermypockets.Thenheshovedmedownviolentlyontoachair.IstaredattheCommandantdumbly.“Inside the doors there are”—he referred to the paper in his hand

—“twelvetear-gasgrenades,twelveconcussiongrenades,twelvesmokegrenades, six gas respirators, six Parabellum pistols, and one hundredand twenty rounds of nine-millimeter pistol ammunition.” He put thepaperdownandstoodup.“Youareunderarrest.”

3

The post had no facilities for housing prisoners, and I was put in thelavatory under guard while the Commandant reported my arrest toheadquarters and awaited orders. The lavatory was only a few yardsfromhisoffice,andduringthenexttwentyminutesthetelephonethererangfourtimes.Icouldheartherumbleofhisvoicewhenheanswered.Thetoneofitbecamemorerespectfulwitheachcall.Iwas uncertainwhether I should allowmyself to be encouraged by

thisornot.Policebehavior isalwaysdifficult toanticipate,evenwhenyou know a country well. Sometimes Higher Authority is moreresponsive to a reasonable explanation of the misunderstanding, andmore disposed to accept a dignified expression of regret forinconveniencecaused,thansomeself-importantorsadisticminorofficialwho is out tomake themost of the occasion. On the other hand, theHigherAuthorityhasmorepowertoabuse,and,ifitcomestothesimplematterofabribe,bigger ideasabouthisnuisancevalue. Imustadmit,though, thatwhat Iwasmainlyconcernedaboutat thatpointwas thekind of physical treatment I would receive. Of course, every policeauthority,highorlow,considersitsbehavior“correct”onalloccasions;but inmyexperience(althoughIhaveonlyreallybeenarrested tenortwelve times in my whole life) the word “correct” can mean almostanythingfromhotmealsbroughtinfromanearbyrestaurantandplentyofcigarettes, to tight-handcuffing in thecellandaknee in thegroin ifyoudare to complain.Mypreviousencounterswith theTurkishpolicehad been uncomfortable only in the sense that they had beeninconvenientandhumiliating;butthen,themattersindisputehadbeenofamoreor less technicalnature. Ihadtofacethefact that“beinginpossessionofarms,explosives,andotheroffensiveweapons,attemptingtosmugglethemintotheTurkishRepublic,carryingconcealedfirearmsandillegalentrywithoutvalididentificationpapers,”wererathermore

serious charges. My complete and absolute innocence of them wouldtaketimetoestablish,andalotofquiteunpleasantthingscouldhappenintheinterim.The possibility that my innocence might not be established wassomething that, realist though I am, I was not just then prepared tocontemplate.After the fourth telephone call, the Commandant came out of hisoffice, gave someorders to the securitymanwhohadbeenwaiting inthepassage,andthencameintothelavatory.“YouarebeingsentatoncetothegarrisonjailinEdirne,”hesaid.“AndthecarIwasdriving,sir?”He hesitated. “I have no orders about that yet. No doubt it will bewantedasevidence.”DirectcommunicationwithHigherAuthorityseemedtohavesappedalittle of his earlier self-confidence. I decided tohaveonemore shot atbluffingmywayout.“Imustremindyou,sir,”Isaidloudly,“thatIhavealready protested formally to you against my detention here. I repeatthatprotest.Thecaranditscontentsarewithinyourlegaljurisdiction.Iam not. I was refused entry because my papers were not in order.Therefore, legally, I was not in Turkey and should have been at oncereturned to theGreeksideof theborder. InGreece, Ihaveapermisdeséjour which is in order. I think that when your superiors learn thesefacts,youwillfindthatyouhavealottoanswerfor.”Itwasquitewellsaid.Unfortunately,itseemedtoamusehim.“Soyouarealawyer,aswellasajournalist,achauffeur,andanarmssmuggler.”“Iamsimplywarningyou.”His smile faded. “Then let me give you a word of warning, too. InEdirneyouwillnotbedealingwiththeordinarypoliceauthorities.Itisconsidered that theremay be political aspects to your case and it hasbeen placed under the jurisdiction of the Second Section, the IkinciBüro.”“Political aspects? What political aspects?” I tried, not verysuccessfully,tosoundangryinsteadofalarmed.“That isnot forme to say. Imerelywarnyou.TheDirector,SecondSection, is General Haki. It will be hismenwhowill interrogate you.Youwill certainly end by co-operatingwith them. Youwould bewell

advised to begin by doing so. Their patience, I hear, is quite limited.Thatisall.”Hewent.Amomentortwolaterthesecuritymancamein.Iwasdriventothegarrisonjailinacoveredjeepwithmyrightwristhandcuffedtoagrabrail,andanescortoftwosoldiers.Thejailwasanold stone building on the outskirts of the town. It had a walledcourtyard,andtherewereexpandedmetalscreensaswellasbarsoverthewindows.Oneofthesoldiers,anN.C.O.,reportedtotheguardontheinnergate,andafter a fewmoments twomen inadifferent sortofuniformcameout through a smaller side door. One of them had a paper which hehandedtotheN.C.O.Igatheredthatitwasareceiptforme.TheN.C.O.immediatelyunlockedthehandcuffsandwavedmeoutofthejeep.Thenewescort-in-chargeproddedmetowardsthesidedoor.“Girmek,girmek!”hesaidsharply.Alljailsseemtosmellofdisinfectants,urine,sweat,andleather.Thiswasnoexception. Iwentupsomewoodenstairs toasteelgate,whichwasopenedbyamanwithalongchainofkeysfromtheinside.Beyonditandtotherightwasasortofreceptionroomwithamanatadeskandtwo cubicles at the back. The guard shoved me up to the desk andrappedoutanorder.IsaidinFrenchthatIdidn’tunderstand.Themanatthedesksaid:“Videlespoches.”IdidasIwastold.Theyhadtakenallmypapersandkeysfrommeatthefrontierpost.AllIhadleftinmypocketswasmymoney,mywatch,a packet of cigarettes, andmatches. The deskman gaveme back thewatch and the cigarettes, and put themoney and thematches into anenvelope.Amaninagrubbywhitecoatnowarrivedandwentintooneofthecubicles.Hewascarryingathinyellowfilefolder.AfteramomentortwohecalledoutanorderandIwassentintohim.Thecubiclecontainedasmalltableandachairandacoveredbucket.In one corner there was a washbasin, and on the wall a white metalcabinet. The white-coated man was at the table preparing an inkingplateofthekindusedforfingerprinting.HeglancedupatmeandsaidinFrench:“Takeyourclothesoff.”Peoplewhorunjailsareallthesame.WhenIwasnaked,hesearchedtheinsideoftheclothesandtheshoes.Nexthelookedinmymouthandears with a flashlight. Then he took a rubber glove and a jar of

petroleum jelly from thewall cabinet and searchedmy rectum. I havealwaysdeeply resented that indignity. Finallyhe tookmy fingerprints.Hewasverybusinesslikeaboutitall;heevengavemeapieceoftoiletpaper towipe the inkoffmyhandsbeforehe toldme todressandgointo the next cubicle. In there,was a camera, set upwith photofloodsandafixedfocusbar.WhenIhadbeenphotographed,IwastakenalongsomecorridorstoagreenwoodendoorwiththewordISTIFHAMletteredonit in white paint. Istifham is a Turkish word I know; it means“interrogation.”Therewasonlyone small screenedandbarredwindow in the room;

thesunwasbeginningtosetanditwasalreadyquitedarkinthere.AsIwent in,oneof theguards followedmeandswitchedon the light.Hisfriendshutandlockedthedoorfromtheoutside.Theguardwhowastostaywithmesatdownonabenchagainstthewallandyawnednoisily.Theroomwasabouteighteenfeetsquare.Offonecornertherewasa

washroom with no door on it. Apart from the bench, the furnitureconsisted of a solid-looking table bolted to the floor and half a dozenchairs.On thewallwasa telephoneanda framed lithographofKemalAtatürk.Thefloorwascoveredwithwornbrownlinoleum.I got outmy cigarettes and offered one to the guard. He shook his

head and looked contemptuous, as if I had offered him an inadequatebribe. I shrugged and, putting the cigarette in my own mouth, madesignsthatIwantedalight.Heshookhisheadagain.Iputthecigaretteaway and sat down at the table. I had to assume that at anymomentnow a representative of the Second Section would arrive and startquestioningme.WhatIneeded,verybadly,wassomethingtotellhim.Itisalwaysthesamewithinterrogation.Iremembermyfathertrying

toexplainittoMumonenight,justbeforehewaskilled.It’snogoodforasoldierwhoisuponachargebeforehisC.O.justtellingthetruth;hehas to have somethingmore, something fancy to gowith it. If he gotbacktobarrackshalfanhourafterlights-outjustbecausehe’dhadtoomuchbeerandmissedthelastbus,whocaresabouthim?He’ssimplyacarelessbloodyfool—sevendaysconfinedtobarracks,nextcase.Butif,whenhe’saskedifhehasanythingtosay,hecantellthetalesothattheC.O.getsabitoffunoutofhearingit, thingsaredifferent.Hemaybeonly admonished.My father said that there was a corporal in his oldregimentwhowassogoodatmakingupyarnsfortheorderlyroomthat

heusedtosellthemforhalf-a-crownapiece.Theywereknownas“well-sirs.” My father bought a well-sir once when he was “crimed” foroverstayinganeveningpass.Itwentlikethis:Well, sir, I was proceeding back along Cantonment Road towards thebarracksingoodtimeforlights-outandinasoldierlymanner.Then,sir,justasIwaspassingtheshoppingarcadebyOrdnanceAvenue,Iheardawomanscream. Pause.Well, sir, I stopped to listen and heard her scream again.Therewerealsosomeconfusedcries.Thesoundwascomingfromoneoftheshops in the arcade, so I went to investigate. Pause again, then go onslowly.Well, sir,what I foundwas one of theseWogs—beg pardon, sir, anative—molestingawhitewomaninadoorway.Icouldseeshewasalady,sir. Let that sink in a bit.Well, sir, the moment this lady saw me, sheappealedtomeforhelp.Shesaidshe’dbeenonherwayhometohermother’shouse,whichwasoveron theother sideofArtilleryPark,when thisnativehadattemptedto—well, interferewithher. I toldhimtoclearout. Inreply,sir,hebecameabusive,callingmesomeverydirtynamesinhisownlingoandusing insulting languageabout theRegimentTakeadeepbreath.Well, sir,forthelady’ssakeImanagedtoholdontomytemper.Asamatteroffact,sir,Ithinkthemanmusthavebeendrunkorundertheinfluenceofdrugs.Hehadsenseenoughtokeephisdistance,butthemomentIescortedtheladyoutofthearcadeIrealizedthathewasfollowingus.Justwaitingforachancetomolestheragain,sir.Sheknewit,too.I’veneverseenaladymorefrightened,sir. When she appealed to me to escort her to her mother’s house, sir, Irealized that it would make me late. But if I’d just gone on my way andsomething terrible hadhappened toher, I’dhavenever forgivenmyself, sir.Stiffen up and lookwithout blinking at thewall space over the C.O.’shead.No excuse to offer, sir, I’ll take my medicine. C.O. can’t think ofanythingtosayexcept:“Don’tletithappenagain.”Chargedismissed.Theonlytroubleisthat,inthearmy,unlessyouarealwaysmakingadamnednuisanceofyourself,theywouldsoonergiveyouthebenefitofthedoubtthannot,becauseit’seasierforthemthatway.Besides,theyknow that even if youhavemade thewhole thing up, at least they’vehadyousweatingoverit.Thepolicearemuchmoredifficult.Theydon’twantyoutohavethebenefitofanydoubt.Theywanttostartcheckinganddouble-checkingyourstory,andgettingwitnessesandevidence,sothatthereisnodoubt.“Whatwasthelady’sname?Describeher.Exactlywherewasthehousetowhichyouescortedher?Washermotherinfact

there?Did you seeher? It takes twenty-twominutes towalk from theshoppingarcadetotheothersideofArtilleryPark,andafurtherthirtyminutes to walk from there to the barracks. That makes fifty-twominutes.Butyouwere twohours lategetting in.Wheredidyouspendtheotherhourandeightminutes?Wehaveawitnesswhosaysthathesaw you…” And so on. You can’t buy well-sirs good enough for thepolice forhalf-a-crown. Intelligencepeopleareevenworse.Nine timesout of ten they don’t even have to worry about building up a caseagainst you to go into court. They are the court—judge, jury, andprosecutor,allinone.I did not know anything about this “Second Section” which the

Commandanthadmentioned;butitwasnothardtoguesswhatitwas.The Turks have always been great borrowers of French words andphrases.The IkinciBüro sounded tome like theTurkishcounterpartoftheDeuxièmeBureau.Iwasn’tfarwrong.IthinkthatifIwereaskedtosingleoutonespecificgroupofmen,one

type, one category, as being the most suspicious, unbelieving,unreasonable,petty,inhuman,sadistic,double-crossingsetofbastardsinanylanguage,Iwouldsaywithoutanyhesitation:“thepeoplewhoruncounter-espionagedepartments.”Withthem,itisnousehavingjustonestory;andespeciallynotatruestory;theyautomaticallydisbelievethat.Whatyoumusthaveisaseriesofstories,sothatwhentheyknockthefirstonedownyoucanbringoutthesecond,andthen,whentheyscrubthat out, come upwith a third. Thatway they think they aremakingprogressandkeeptheirhandsoffyou,whileyougraduallyfindoutthestorytheyreallywantyoutotell.My position at Edirne was hopeless from the start. If I had known

what was hidden in the car before the post Commandant had startedquestioningme, Iwouldn’t have told him aboutHarper. Iwould havepretendedtobestupid,orjustrefusedtosayanything.Then,later,whenIhad finallybrokendownand “told all,” theywouldhavebelievedatleastsomeofwhatIhadsaid.Asitwas,Ihadtoldastorythathappenedtobe true,but soundedas if I thought theywerehalf-witted.You canimaginehowIfeltasIwaited.Withnoroomatallformaneuver,IknewthatImustbeinforabadtime.Thesunwentdownandthewindowturnedblack.Itwasveryquiet.I

could hear no sounds at all from other parts of the jail. Presumably,

thingswerearrangedso that there theycouldhearnosoundsmade intheinterrogationroom—screams,etc.WhenIhadbeentheretwohours,therewerefootstepsinthecorridoroutside,thedoorwasunlocked,anda new guard came in with a tin bowl of mutton soup and a hunk ofbread. He put these on the table in front of me, then nodded to hisfriend,whowentoutandrelockedthedoor.Thenewmantookhisplaceonthebench.Therewasnospoon.Idippedapieceofbreadinthesoupandtasted

it. It was lukewarm and full of congealed fat. Even without myindigestion I could not have eaten it. Now, the smell alonemademewanttothrowup.Ilookedattheguard.“Su?”Iasked.Hemotioned to thewashroom.Evidently, if Iwantedwater Iwould

havetodrinkfromthetap.Ididnotrelishtheidea.Indigestionwasbadenough; I did notwant dysentery, too. Imademyself eat some of thebreadand then tookoutmycigarettes again in thehope that thenewmanmightbereadytogivemeamatch.Heshookhishead.Ipointedtoa plastic ash tray on the table to remind him that smoking was notnecessarilyprohibited.Hestillshookhishead.Alittlebeforenine,atwin-enginedplaneflewoverthe jailandthen

circledasifonalandingpattern.Thesoundseemedtomeansomethingto the guard.He looked at hiswatch, and then absently ran his handdownthefrontofhistunicasiftomakesurethatthebuttonswerealldoneup.More to break the interminable silence in the room than because I

wantedtoknow,Iasked:“IsthereabigairportatEdirne?”IspokeinFrench,butitmeantnothingtohim.Imadesigns,whichhe

misunderstood.“Askeriucak,”hesaidbriefly.Anarmyplane.That concluded that conversation;but Inoticed that

hekeptglancingathiswatchnow.Probably,Ithought,itwastimeforhisreliefandhewasbecomingimpatient.Twenty minutes later there was the distant sound of a car door

slamming.The guardheard it, too, andpromptly stoodup. I stared athimandhegloweredback.“Hazirol!”hesnapped,andthenexasperatedly:“Debout!Debout!”I stoodup. Icouldhearapproaching footstepsandvoicesnow.Then

thedoorwasunlockedandflungopen.For a moment nothing more happened, except that someone in thecorridor, whom I could not see, went on speaking. He had a harsh,peremptoryvoicewhichseemed tobegivingorders thatanothervoicekeptacknowledgingdeferentially—“Evet,evetefendim,derhal.”Thentheorders ceased and theman who had been giving them came into theroom.He was about thirty-five, I would think, perhaps younger, tall andquite slim. There were high cheekbones, gray eyes, and short brownhair.Hewashandsome,Isuppose,inathin-lippedsortofway.HewaswearingadarkciviliansuitthatlookedasifithadbeencutbyagoodRomantailor,andadark-graysilktie.Helookedasifhehadjustcomefromadiplomaticcorpscocktailparty;andforallIknowhemayhavedoneso.Onhisrightwristtherewasagoldidentitybracelet.Thehandbelowitwasholdingalargemanilaenvelope.He examined me bleakly for a moment, then nodded. “I am MajorTufan,DeputyDirector,SecondSection.”“Goodevening,sir.”He glanced at the guard, who was staring at him round-eyed, andsuddenlysnappedoutanorder:“Defol!”Theguardnearlyfelloverhimselfgettingoutoftheroom.As soonas thedoorclosed, themajorpulleda chairup to the tableandsatdown.Thenhewavedmebacktomyseatbythebread.“Sit down, Simpson. I believe that you speak French easily, but notTurkish.”“Yes,sir.”“ThenwewillspeakinFrenchinsteadofEnglish.Thatwillbeeasierforme.”IansweredinFrench.“Asyouwish,sir.”He took cigarettes andmatches fromhis pocket and tossed themonthetableinfrontofme.“Youmaysmoke.”“Thankyou.”Iwasgladof theconcession, thoughnot in the leastreassuredby it.When a policemangives you a cigarette it is usually the firstmove inoneofthose“let’sseeifwecan’ttalksensiblyasmantoman”gamesinwhichheprovidestheropeandyouhangyourself.I litacigaretteandwaitedforthenextmove.

Heseemed innohurry tomake it.Hehadopenedtheenvelopeandtaken from it a file of papers which he was searching through andrearranging, as if he had just dropped them all andwas trying to getthembackintotherightorder.Therewasaknockatthedoor.Hetooknonotice.Afteramomentortwo,thedooropenedandaguardcameinwithabottleofrakiandtwoglasses. Tufan motioned to him to put them on the table, and thennoticedthesoup.“Doyouwantanymoreofthat?”heasked.“Nothankyou,sir.”Hesaid something to theguard,who took the soupandbreadawayandlockedthedooragain.Tufanrestedthefileonhiskneesandpouredhimselfaglassofraki.“The flight from Istanbulwas anything but smooth,” he said; “we arestillusingpiston-enginedplanesontheseshortruns.”Heswallowedthedrinkasifhewerewashingdownapill,andpushedthebottleaninchor two in my direction. “You’d better have a drink, Simpson. It maymakeyoufeelbetter.”“And also make me more talkative, sir?” I thought the light touchmightmakehimthinkthatIwasnotafraid.Helookedupandhisgrayeyesmetmine.“Ihopenot,”hesaidcoldly;“Ihavenotimetowaste.”Heshutthefilewithasnapandputitonthetableinfrontofhim.“Now then,” he went on, “let us examine your position. First, theoffenseswithwhichyouarechargedrenderyouliableuponconvictionto terms of imprisonment of at least twenty years. Depending on thedegree of your involvement in the political aspects of this affair, wemightevenconsiderpressingforadeathsentence.”“But I amnot involved at all,Major, I assure you. I am a victimofcircumstances—an innocent victim.” Of course, he could have beenbluffing about the death sentence, but I could not be sure. Therewasthat phrase “political aspects” again. I had read that they had beenhanging members of the former government for political crimes. IwishednowthatIhadtakenthedrinkwhenhehadofferedit.Now,myhands were shaking, and I knew that, if I reached for the bottle andglass,hewouldseethattheywere.Apparently,however,hedidnothavetoseethem;heknewwhathe

wasdoingtome,andwantedmetoknowthatheknew.Quitecasually,he pickedup the bottle, pouredmehalf a glass of raki, andpushed itacrosstome.“Wewill talkabout theextentofyour involvement inaminute,”he

said.“First,letusconsiderthematterofyourpassport.”“Itisoutofdate.Iadmitthat.Butitwasamereoversight.Ifthepost

CommandanthadbehavedcorrectlyIwouldhavebeensentbacktotheGreekpost.”Heshruggedimpatiently.“Letusbeclearaboutthis.Youhadalready

committed seriouscriminaloffensesonTurkish soil.Wouldyouexpecttoescape theconsequencesbecauseyourpapersarenot inorder?Youknowbetter.Youalsoknowthatyourpassportwasnotinvalidthroughanyoversight.TheEgyptiangovernmenthadrefusedtorenewit.Infact,they revoked your citizenship two years ago on the grounds that youmadefalsestatementsonyournaturalizationpapers.”Heglancedinthefile.“Youstatedthatyouhadneverbeenconvictedofacriminaloffenseandthatyouhadneverservedaprisonsentence.Bothstatementswerelies.”ThiswassuchanunfairdistortionofthefactsthatIcouldonlyassume

thathehadgotitfromtheEgyptians.Isaid:“Ihavebeenfightingthatdecision.”“And also using a passport towhich youwere not entitled and had

failedtosurrender.”“My case was still sub judice. Anyway, I have already applied for

restorationofmyBritishcitizenship,towhichIamentitledasthesonofaservingBritishofficer.Infact,IamBritish.”“The British don’t take that view. After what happened you can

scarcelyblamethem.”“UndertheprovisionsoftheBritishNationalityActof1948Iremain

BritishunlessIhavespecificallyrenouncedthatnationality.Ihaveneverformallyrenouncedit.”“That is unimportant.We are talking about your case here and the

extentofyourinvolvement.ThepointIwishtomakeisthatouractioninyourcaseisnotgoingtobegovernedinanywaybythefactthatyouareaforeigner.Noconsulisgoingtointercedeonyourbehalf.Youhavenone. You are stateless. The only person who can help you is myDirector.”Hepaused.“Buthewillhavetobepersuaded.Youunderstand

me?”“Ihavenomoney.”It seemed a perfectly sensible reply to me, but for some reason it

appearedtoirritatehim.HiseyesnarrowedandforamomentIthoughthewas going to throw the glass hewas holding inmy face. Then hesighed.“Youareoverfifty,”hesaid,“yetyouhavelearnednothing.Youstillseeothermeninyourownabsurdimage.DoyoureallybelievethatIcouldbebought,orthat,ifIcouldbe,amanlikeyoucouldeverdothebuying?”Itwasonthetipofmytonguetoretortthatthatwoulddependonthe

price he was asking; but if he wanted to take this high-and-mightyattitude,therewasnosenseinarguing.Obviously,Ihadtouchedhiminasensitivearea.Helitacigaretteasifhewereconsciouslyputtingasidehisirritation.

Itooktheopportunitytodrinksomeoftheraki.“Verywell.”Hewasallbusinessagain.“Youunderstandyourposition,

whichisthatyouhavenoposition.WecomenowtothestoryyoutoldtothepostCommandantbeforeyourarrest.”“EverywordItoldtheCommandantwasthetruth.”Heopenedthefile.“Onthefaceofitthatseemshighlyunlikely.Letus

see.YoustatedthatyouwereaskedbythisAmerican,Harper,todriveacarbelongingtoaFräuleinLippfromAthenstoIstanbul.Youweretobepaidonehundreddollars.Youagreed.AmIright?”“Quiteright.”“Youagreed,eventhoughthepassportinyourpossessionwasnotin

order?”“Ididnotrealizeitwasoutofdate.IthasbeenmonthssinceIusedit.

Thewholethingwasarrangedwithinafewhours.Iscarcelyhadtimetopack a bag. People are using out-of-date passports all the time. Askanyoneatanyinternationalairline.Theywilltellyou.Thatiswhytheyalwayscheckpassengers’passportswhentheyweightheirbaggage.Theydo notwant difficulties at the other end. I had nobody to check. TheGreekcontrolscarcelylookedatthepassport.Iwasleavingthecountry.Theywerenotinterested.”IknewIwasonsafegroundhere,andIspokewithfeeling.Hethoughtforamoment,thennodded.“Itispossible,and,ofcourse,

you had good reason not to think too much about the date on your

passport. The Egyptians were not going to renew it anyway. Thatexplanationisacceptable,Ithink.Wewillgoon.”Hereferredagaintothefile.“YoutoldtheCommandantthatyoususpectedthismanHarperofbeinganarcoticssmuggler.”“Idid.”“TotheextentofsearchingthecarafteryouleftAthens.”“Yes.”“Yetyoustillagreedtomakethejourney.”“Iwasbeingpaidonehundreddollars.”“Thatwastheonlyreason?”“Yes.”Heshookhishead.“Itreallywillnotdo.”“Iamtellingyouthetruth.”Hetookaclipofpapersfromthefile.“Yourhistorydoesnotinspire

confidence.”“Giveadogabadname.”“You seem to have earned one. Our dossier on you begins in fifty-

seven.Youwerearrestedonvariouschargesandfinedonaminorcount.Therestwereabandonedbythepoliceforlackofevidence.”“Theyshouldneverhavebeenbroughtinthefirstplace.”Heignoredthis.“Wedid,however,askInterpoliftheyknewanything

aboutyou.Itseemedtheyknewalot.Apparentlyyouwereonceintherestaurantbusiness.”“MymotherownedarestaurantinCairo.Isthatanoffense?”“Fraud is an offense. Your mother was part owner of a restaurant.

Whenshedied,yousoldittoabuyerwhobelievedthatyounowownedallof it. Infact, thereweretwoothershareholders.Thebuyerchargedyouwithfraud,butwithdrewhiscomplaintwhenthepoliceallowedyoutoregularizethetransaction.”“Ididn’tknowoftheexistenceoftheseothershareholders.Mymother

hadnevertoldmethatshehadsoldtheshares.”Thiswasperfectlytrue.MumwasentirelyresponsibleforthetroubleIgotintooverthat.“In1931youboughtapartnership ina smallpublishingbusiness in

Cairo.Outwardlyitconcerneditselfwithdistributingforeignmagazinesandperiodicals.Itsrealbusinesswastheproductionofpornographyforthe Spanish-and English-speaking markets. And that became your realbusiness.”

“Thatisabsolutelyuntrue.”“The information was supplied through Interpol in fifty-four by

ScotlandYard.ItwasgiveninresponsetoaninquirybytheNewYorkpolice.ScotlandYardmusthaveknownaboutyouforalongtime.”Iknewitwoulddonogood forme tobecomeangry.“Ihaveedited

and sometimeswritten for a number ofmagazines of a literary natureover theyears,” Isaidquietly.“Sometimestheymayhavebeena littledaring in their approach and have been banned by various censoringauthorities. But I would remind you that books likeUlysses and LadyChatterley’sLover,whichwereoncedescribedbythosesameauthoritiesas pornographic or obscene, are now accepted as literaryworks of artandpublishedquiteopenly.”Helookedathispapersagain.“InJanuaryfifty-fiveyouwerearrested

inLondon.Inyourpossessionweresamplesofthevariousobsceneandpornographicperiodicalswhichyouhadbeenattemptingtosellinbulk.Among them was a book called Gents Only and a monthly magazinecalledEnchantment.AllwereproducedbyyourEgyptiancompany.Youwere charged under the British law governing such publications, andalso with smuggling them. At your trial you said nothing about theirbeing literaryworks of art. You pleaded guilty andwere sentenced totwelvemonths’imprisonment.”“Thatwasatravestyofjustice.”“Thenwhydidyoupleadguilty?”“Becausemylawyeradvisedmeto.” In fact, theC.I.D. Inspectorhad

tricked me into it. He had as good as promised me that if I pleadedguiltyIwouldgetoffwithafine.He staredatme thoughtfully for amoment, then shut the file. “You

mustbeaverystupidman,Simpson.Yousaytome:‘Iamtellingyouthetruth,’ andyetwhen I try to test that statementall Ihear fromyou iswhiningandprotestation.Iamnotinterestedinhowyouexplainawaythe past, or in any illusions about yourself that you may wish topreserve. Ifyoucannoteven tell the truthwhen there isnothing tobegainedbylying,thenIcanbelievenothingyoutellme.YouwerecaughtbytheBritishsmugglingpornographyandtryingtopeddleit.Whynotadmitit?Then,whenyoutellmethatyoudidnotknowthatyouweresmugglingarmsandammunition thisafternoon, Imightat least think:‘Thismanisapettycriminal,butitisremotelypossiblethatforoncehe

isbeingtruthful.’Asitis,IcanonlyassumethatyouarelyingandthatImustgetthetruthfromyouinsomeotherway.”Iadmitthat“someotherway”gavemeajolt.Afterall, fiveminutes

earlierhehadbeenpouringmeaglassofraki.HemeanttoputthefearofGodintome,ofcourse,andmakemepanic.Unfortunately,andonlybecauseIwastired,upset,andsufferingfromindigestion,hesucceeded.“Iamtellingyouthetruth,sir.”Icouldhearmyownvoicecracking

andquaveringbutcoulddonothingtocontrolit.“IsweartoGodIamtelling you the truth. My only wish is to tell you all I can, to bringeverythingoutofthedarknessintothelightofday.”Hestaredatmecuriously;andthen,asIrealizedwhatIhadsaid,Ifelt

myself reddening. Itwasawful. Ihadused thoseabsurdwordsHarperhadmademewriteinthatconfessionaboutthechecks.Asoursmiletouchedhislipsforaninstant.“Ahyes,”hesaid.“Iwas

forgettingthatyouhavebeenajournalist.Wewilltryoncemorethen.Just remember that I do not want speeches in mitigation, only plainstatements.”“Ofcourse.”Iwastooconfusedtothinkstraightnow.“WhydidyougotoLondoninfifty-five?Youmusthaveknownthat

ScotlandYardknewallaboutyou.”“HowcouldIknow?Ihadn’tbeeninEnglandforyears.”“Wherewereyouduringthewar?”“InCairodoingwarwork.”“Whatwork?”“Iwasaninterpreter.”“WhydidyougotoLondon?”Iclearedmythroatandtookasipofraki.“Answerme!”“Iwasgoingtoanswer,sir.”Therewasnothingelseforit.“TheBritish

distributorofourpublicationssuddenlyceasedmakingpaymentsandwecould get no replies from him to our letters. I went to England toinvestigate,andfoundhisofficesclosed.Iassumedthathehadgoneoutof business, and began to look for another distributor. The man Ieventually discussed the possibility with turned out to be a ScotlandYard detective.We used to send our shipments to Liverpool in cottonbales. It seems that the customs had discovered this and informed thepolice.Ourdistributorhadbeenarrestedandsenttoprison.Thepolice

hadkeptitoutofthepaperssomehow.Ijustwalkedintoatrap.”“Better,muchbetter,”hesaid.Helookedalmostamused.“Naturally,though,youfeltbittertowardstheBritishauthorities.”I should have remembered something he had let drop earlier, but Iwasstillconfused.Itriedtoheadhimoff.“Iwasbitteratthetime,ofcourse,sir.IdidnotthinkIhadhadafairtrial. But afterwards I realized that the police had their job to do”—Ithought thatwould appeal tohim—“and that theyweren’t responsibleformaking the laws. So I tried to be amodel prisoner. I think Iwas.Anyway, I received the maximum remission for good behavior. Icertainlycouldn’tcomplainofthetreatmentIhadinMaidstone.Infact,theGovernorshoookhandswithmewhenIleftandwishedmewell.”“AndthenyoureturnedtoEgypt?”“Assoonasmyprobationaryperiodwasup,yes.IwentbacktoCairo,sir.”“Where you proceeded to denounce a British businessman namedColbyEvanstotheEgyptianauthoritiesasaBritishsecretagent.”Itwaslikeaslapintheface,butImanagedtokeepmyheadthistime.“Notimmediately,sir.Thatwaslater,duringtheSuezcrisis.”“Whydidyoudoit?”Ididn’tknowwhattosay.HowcouldIexplaintoamanlikethatthatIhadtopaybackthecaningtheyhadgivenme.Isaidnothing.“Was it because you needed to prove somehow to the Egyptianauthorities that you were anti-British, or because you didn’t like theman,orbecauseyouweresincerelyanti-British?”It was all three, I suppose; I am not really sure. I answered almostwithoutthinking.“MymotherwasEgyptian.MywifewaskilledbyaBritishbombintheattacktheymadeonus.Whyshouldn’tIfeelsincerelyanti-British?”Itwas probably thebest answer I had given so far; it sounded true,eventhoughitwasn’tquite.“Didyoureallybelievethismanwasanagent?”“Yes,sir.”“AndthenyouappliedforEgyptiancitizenship.”“Yes,sir.”“You stayed in Egypt until fifty-eight. Was that when they finallydecided that Evans hadnot been a British agent after all and released

him?”“Hewasconvictedathistrial.Hisreleasewasanactofclemency.”“ButtheEgyptiansdidstarttoinvestigateyouatthattime.”Itwasastatement.“Isupposeso.”“Isee.”Herefilledmyglass.“Ithinkwearebeginningtounderstandoneanother,Simpson.Younowrealizethatitisneithermybusinessnormy inclination to make moral judgments. I, on the other hand, ambeginningtoseehowyourmindworksintheareaswearediscussing—what holds the pieces together. So now let us go back to your storyaboutMr.HarperandFräuleinLipp.”Heglancedagainatthefile.“Yousee,foramanofyourexperienceitisquiteincredible.YoususpectthatHarpermaybeusingyouforsomeillegalpurposewhichwillbehighlyprofitabletohim,yetyoudoasheasksforamerehundreddollars.”“ItwasthereturnjourneyIwasthinkingof,sir.IthoughtthatwhenherealizedthatIhadguessedwhathewasupto,hewouldhavetopaymetotaketherisk.”Hesatback,smiling.“Butyouhadacceptedthehundreddollarsbeforethatpossibilityhadoccurred toyou.Youwouldnothave searched thecaroutsideAthensotherwise.Youseethedifficulty?”Idid.WhatIdidn’tseewasthewayoutofit.He lit another cigarette. “Come now, Simpson, you were emergingverysensiblyfromthedarknessa fewminutesago.Whynotcontinue?Either your whole story is a lie, or you have left something ofimportanceout.Which is it? Iamgoing to findoutanyway. Itwillbeeasierforbothofusifyoujusttellmenow.”IknowwhenIambeaten.Idranksomemoreraki.“Allright.IhadnomorechoicewithhimthanIhavewithyou.Hewasblackmailingme.”“How?”“HaveyougotanextraditiontreatywithGreece?”“Nevermindaboutthat.Iamnotthepolice.”SoIhadtotellhimaboutthetraveler’schecksafterall.When I had finished, he nodded. “I see” was all he said. After amoment, he got up and went to the door. It opened the instant heknockedonit.Hebegantogiveorders.I was quite sure that he had finished with me and was telling theguardstotakemeawaytoacell,soIswallowedtherestoftheraki in

my glass and put the matches in my pocket on the off chance that Imightgetawaywiththem.Iwaswrongabout thecell.Whenhehad finished speaking,he shutthedoorandcameback.“Ihavesentforsomeeatablefood,”hesaid.Hedidnotstopatthetable,butwentacrosstothetelephone.Ilighteda cigarette and returned the matches to the table. I don’t think henoticed. He was asking for an Istanbul number and making a lot ofimportant-soundingnoiseabout it.Thenhehungupandcameback tothetable.“Now tellme everything you remember about thismanHarper,” hesaid.Istartedtotellhimthewholestoryagainfromthebeginning,buthewanteddetailsnow.“You say thathe spoke likeaGermanwhohas lived inAmerica forsomeyears.Whendidyoureach thatconclusion?AfteryouheardhimspeakGermantothemanatthegarage?”“No.HearinghimspeakGermanonlyconfirmedtheimpressionIhadhad.”“IfyouweretohearmespeakGermanfluentlycouldyoutellwhetheritwasmymothertongueornot?”“No.”“HowdidhepronouncetheEnglishword‘later,’forexample?”Itriedtotellhim.“Youknow,theGerman‘l’ismorefrontalthanthat,”hesaid;“butinTurkish,beforecertainvowels, the ‘l’ is liketheEnglishconsonantyouwere pronouncing. If you were told that this man had a Turkishbackground,wouldyoudisbelieveit?”“NotifIweretolditwastrueperhaps.ButisHarperaTurkishname?”“IsitaGermanone?”“ItcouldbeananglicizationofHipper.”“ItcouldalsobeananglicizationofHarbak.”Heshrugged.“Itcouldalsobeanalias.Itmostprobablyis.AllIamtryingtodiscoverisifthemancouldbeTurkish.”“Becauseofthepoliticalaspectsyoumentioned?”“Obviously.Tear-gasgrenades,concussiongrenades,smokegrenades,sixpistols,sixtimestwentyroundsofammunition.Sixdeterminedmen

equippedwiththatmaterialmakingasurpriseattackonsomeimportantpersonorgroupofpersonscouldaccomplishagreatdeal.Therearestillmanysupportersoftheformerregime.Theydonotlikethearmy’sfirmhands.”I refrained from tellinghim that Iwasn’t so very fondof those firmhandsmyself.“But, of course,” he went on, “we keep our eyes on them. If theywishedtoattemptanythingtheywouldneedhelpfromoutside.YousayhehadSwissfrancsandWestGermanmarksaswellasdollars?”“Yes.”“Naturally it is possible that what we have here is only one smallcornerofamuchlargerplan.Ifso,thereisalotofmoneybehindit.Thisman Harper went to a great deal of trouble and expense to get thatmaterialthrough.Perhaps…”Thetelephonerangandhebrokeofftoanswerit.HiscalltoIstanbulhadcomethrough.Iunderstoodaboutonewordintenofhissideoftheconversation. He was reporting to his boss; that much was easilygathered.Mynamewasmentioned several times.After that hemostlylistened, justputting inanoccasionalevet to show thathewasgettingthepoint.Icouldhearthefaintquackingofthevoiceattheotherendoftheline.Finallyitstopped.Tufanaskedaquestionandreceivedabriefreply.Thatwas all. Tufanmadea respectful sound, thenhungupandlookedacrossatme.“Bad news for you, Simpson,” he said. “The Director does not feeldisposedtohelpyouinanyway.Heregardsthechargesagainstyouastooserious.”“I’msorry.”Thereseemednothingmoretosay.Idownedanotherrakitotrytosettlemystomach.“Heconsidersthatyouhavenotbeensufficientlyhelpfultous.Iwasunabletopersuadehim.”“I’vetoldyoueverythingIknow.”“It is not enough. What we need to know is more about this manHarper,whohisassociatesandcontactsare,who thisFräuleinLipp is,wherethearmsandammunitionaregoing,howtheyaretobeused.Ifyoucouldsupply that informationorhelp tosupply it,ofcourse,yourcasemightbereconsidered.”“TheonlywayIcouldpossiblygetinformationlikethatwouldbeto

drive on to Istanbul tomorrow as if nothing had happened, go to theParkHotel, andwait for somebody to contactme as arranged. Is thatwhatyou’retellingmeIhavetodo?”He sat down facingme. “It is what wemight tell you to do, if we

thoughtthatwecouldtrustyou.MyDirectorisdoubtful.Naturally,heisthinkingofyourpastrecord.”“Whathasthattodowithit?”“Isn’t it obvious? Supposingyouwarn thesepeople that the carwas

searched.Perhapstheywouldrewardyou.”“Rewardme?”Ilaughedloudly;IthinkImusthavebeengettingabit

tight.“Rewardmefortellingthemthattheyareundersurveillance?Areyouserious?Youweretalkingaboutagroupofmendeterminedenoughto risk their lives. At the moment, the only contact I can identify isHarper.HemayormaynotbeinIstanbul.Supposinghe’snot.Someonehas to contactme togetat thecar.Whatdo Ido?Whisper ‘Fly, all isdiscovered’intohisear,andexpecthimtotipmebeforeheleaves?OrdoIwaituntilI’vemadeafewmorecontactsbeforeItellthemthegoodnews,so that theycanpass thehatround?Don’tberidiculous!They’dknowatoncethattheywouldn’tgetfar,becauseyou’dpickmeupagainandmakemetalk.Reward?I’dbeluckyiftheyletmestayalive.”Hesmiled.“TheDirectorwonderedifyouwouldhavethesensetosee

that.”ButIwastooannoyedbywhatIthoughtwashisstupiditytograspthe

implicationofwhathehadsaid.IwentoninEnglish.Ididn’tcareanymorewhetherheunderstoodmeornot.Isaid:“Inanycase,whathaveyougottolose?IfIdon’tturnupinIstanbultomorrow,they’llknowthatsomething’s gonewrong, andall you’ll have is a coupleof names thatdon’tmeananythingtoyou,andasecondhandLincoln.You’llhaveme,too,ofcourse,butyoualreadyknowall Iknowabout this,andyou’regoingtolookdamnsillystandingupincourttryingtoprovethatIwasgoingtocarryoutaone-mancoupd’état.YourbloodyDirectormaybeone of these fine, upstanding, crap-packed bastards who thinks thateverybodywhodoesn’tsmelltohighheavenofsweetnessandrosesisn’tworthasecondthought,butifhisbrainisn’twherehisarseoughttobehemustknowhe’sgottotrustme.Hehasnobloodyalternative.”Tufannoddedcalmlyandmovedtherakibottlejustoutofmyreach.

“ThoseweremoreorlesstheDirector’sownwords,”hesaid.

4

Iwokeupthenextmorningwithahangover;andnotjustbecauseoftheraki.Nervousstrainalwayshasthateffectonme.ItwasawonderthatIhadbeenabletosleepatall.The “eatable food” that Tufan had ordered had turned out to be

yoghurt(whichIdetest)andsomesortofsheep’smilkcheese.IhadjusteatensomemorebreadwhileTufanmadetelephonecalls.TheLincolnhadbeenleftoutattheKaraagaccustomspost,whichwas

closedfor thenight.Hehadhadtoget theCommandantoutofbedtoopentheplaceup,andarrangeforanarmydrivertotakethecartothegarrison repair shop. The grenades and arms, and my bag, had beenremovedtothelocalarmyH.Q.forexamination.Thatmeantthatmorepeople, includingthecustomsinspectorwhohadsearchedthecar,hadthenhadtoberoundedupsothatthestuffcouldbeputbackinsidethedoorsagainexactlyasithadbeenfound.Even with all the authority he had, it had taken an hour just to

organizethework.Thenthequestionofahotelroomformehadcomeup.IwassoexhaustedbythenthatIwouldnothavemindedsleepinginacell.Ihadtoldhimso;but,ofcourse,ithadnotbeenmycomforthehad been thinking about. I had had to listen to a lecture. SupposingHarperaskedmewhereIhadspentthenight;supposingthis,supposingthat. An agent sometimes had to take risks, but he should never takeunnecessaryones;tobecaughtoutthroughcarelessnessovertrifleswasunforgivable;andsoonandsoon.Thathadbeenthefirsttimehehadreferredtomeasan“agent.”Ithadgivenmeanuncomfortablefeeling.Hehad toldme tomeethimoutsideanewapartmentbuildingnear

the hotel at nine o’clock. He was already there when I arrived. Hisclothes were still quite neat, but he hadn’t shaved and his eyes werepuffy. He looked as if he had been up all night.Without even saying“goodmorning”hemotionedtometofollowhim,andledthewaydown

aramptoasmallgarageinthebasementofthebuilding.TheLincolnwasthereandlookingveryclean.“Ihaditwashed,”hesaid.“Ithadtoomanyfingermarksonit.It’llbedustyagainbythetimeyougettoIstanbul.Youhadbetterlookatthedoors.”Ihadwarnedhimtobecarefulabout the interiordoorpanels.TheywereleatherandhadbeenquitecleanwhenIhadtakenthecaroverinAthens. If some clumsy lout of an army fitter had made scratches ormarkswhenreplacingthem,Harperwouldbeboundtonotice.I could seenothingwrong,however. If Ihadnotbeen told, Iwouldnothaveknownthatthepanelshadeverbeentakenoff.“It’sallinsidethere,justasitwasbefore?”Iasked.“Thecustomsinspectorsaysso.Alltheobjectsweretapedoutoftheway of thewindowglasses against themetal. Photographswere takenbeforetheywereremoved.”Hehadasetofprintsinhispocketandheshowedthemtome.Theydidn’tconveymuch.Theylookedlikepicturesofhibernatingbats.“Haveyouanyideawherethestuffwasbought?”Iasked.“Agoodquestion.ThepistolsandammunitionareGerman,ofcourse.Thegrenades,allkinds,areFrench.Thatdoesn’thelpusmuch.WedoknowthatthepackingwasdoneinGreece.”“How?”“Itwaspaddedwithnewspaperstostopanyrattling.TherearebitsofAthenspapersdatedaweekago.”He tooka sealedenvelope from thefrontseatof thecarandopened itup.“Theseare the things thatweretakenfromyouatthefrontierpost,”hesaid.“Youhadbetterputthemback in your pockets now and Iwill keep the envelope. I have had aspecial tourist visa stamped in the passport validating it as a traveldocumentwithinTurkey foronemonth.That is incase thehotelclerkshouldnoticetheexpirydate,orifyouarestoppedbythetrafficpoliceforany reason. IfHarperoranyoneelse shouldhappen to see it, youwillsimplysaythat thesecuritycontrolmadenodifficultieswhenyoupromisedtogetthepassportrenewedinIstanbul.Thecarnetisinorder,ofcourse,andthereareyourotherpersonalpapers.”Hehandedthemtome,thentoretheenvelopeinfourandputthepiecesinhispocket.“Now,”hewenton,“astoyourorders.Youknowtheinformationwewant.First, thenamesandaddressesofall contacts, theirdescriptions,

whattheysayanddo.Secondly,youwillattempt,bykeepingyourearsandeyesopen,todiscoverwhereandhowthesearmsaretobeused.Inthat connection you will take particular note of any place namesmentioned,nomatterinwhatcontext.Buildingsorparticularareas,too.Doyouunderstandthat?”“Iunderstand.HowdoIreport?”“Iamcomingtothat.First,fromthemomentyouleavehereyouwillbeundersurveillance.Thepersonsallocatedtothisdutywillbechangedfrequently,butifyoushouldhappentorecognizeanyofthemyouwillpretendnotto.Onlyinanemergency,orinacaseofextremeurgency,willyouapproachthem.Inthateventtheywillhelpyouifyousaymyname.Youwillreportnormallybytelephone,butnotfromatelephonethat goes through a private switchboard. Certainly not from thetelephone inahotel room.Usecafé telephones.Unless, forphysicalorsecurityreasons,itisimpossible,youwillreportatteneverynight,orateightthefollowingmorningifyouhavemissedtheteno’clockcall.”Hetook a box of matches from his pocket. “The number is written hereunderneath thematches. As soon as you are certain that youwill notforgetit,throwtheboxaway.Ifyouwanttocommunicateotherthanatthe daily report times, a duty officer will pass your call or give youanothernumberatwhichIcanbereached.Isthatallclear?”“Yes.”Itookthematchesandlookedatthenumber.“Just one more thing,” he said. “The Director is not an amiable orkindlyman.Youwillkeepfaithwithusbecauseitwouldnotbeinyourinterests to do otherwise. He knows that, of course. But, for him,stupidityorclumsinessincarryingoutordersarejustasunacceptableasbadfaithandhavethesameconsequences.Iwouldstronglyadviseyoutobesuccessful.Thatisall,Ithink,unlessyouhaveanyquestions.”“No.Noquestions.”Withanod,heturnedawayandwalkeduptheramptothestreet. Iputmybaginthebackofthecaragain.TenminuteslaterIwasclearofEdirneandontheIstanbulroad.After a fewmiles I identified the surveillance car as a sand-coloredPeugeot two or three hundred yards behindme. It kept that distance,moreor less, evenwhen trucksorother carsgotbetweenus,orgoingthrough towns. It never closed up enough for me to see the driverclearly.WhenIstoppedatCorluforlunchhedidnotovertakeme.Idid

notseethePeugeotwhileIwasthere.Therestaurantwasacaféwithafewshakytablesunderasmallvine-

covered terrace outside. I had a glass or two of raki and some stuffedpeppers.Mystomachbegan to feelabitbetter. I sat there foroveranhour.Iwouldhavelikedtostaylonger.Thereweremomentslikethatatschool, too; when one bad time has ended and the next has not yetbegun. There can be days of it also, the dayswhen one is on remandawaiting trial—not innocent, not guilty, not responsible, out of thegame. I often wish that I could have an operation—not a painful orseriousone,ofcourse—justsoastobeconvalescentforawhileafterit.The Peugeot picked me up again three minutes after I left Corlu. I

stoppedagainonlyonce,forpetrol.IreachedIstanbulsoonafterfour.IputtheLincolninagaragejustoffTaximSquareandwalkedtothe

hotelcarryingmybag.The Park Hotel is built against the side of a hill overlooking the

Bosphorus.ItistheonlyhotelthatIknowofwhichhasthefoyeratthetop,sothatthelifttakesyoudowntoyourroominsteadofup.Myroomwasquitealongwaydownandonacorneroverlookingastreetwithacafé in it. The café had a gramophone and an inexhaustible supply ofTurkishcazrecords.Almostlevelwiththewindowandaboutfiftyyardsawaywas the topofaminaretbelonging toamosque lowerdownthehill. Ithad loudspeakers in it toamplify thevoiceof themuezzin,andhiscalltoprayerwasdeafening.WhenHarperhadmadethereservation,hehadobviouslyaskedforthecheapestroominthehotel.Ichangedintoacleanshirtandsatdowntowait.Atsixo’clockthetelephonerang.“MonsieurSimpson?”Itwasaman’svoicewithacondescendingliltto

it and an unidentifiable accent. He wasn’t an Englishman or anAmerican.“ThisisSimpson,”Ianswered.“MissLipp’scarisallright?Youhavehadnoaccidentsortroubleon

thejourneyfromAthens?”“No.Thecarisfine.”“Good.MissLipphasapressingengagement.Thisiswhatyouareto

do.YouknowtheHiltonHotel?”“Yes.”“DrivethecartotheHiltonatonceandputitinthecarparkopposite

theentrancetothehotelandbehindtheKervansaraynightclub.Leavethe carnet and insurance papers in the glove compartment and theignitionkeybesidethedriver’sseatonthefloor.Isitunderstood?”“Itisunderstood,yes.Butwhoisthatspeaking?”“A friendofMiss Lipp.The car shouldbe there in tenminutes.”Herangoffabruptlyasifmyquestionhadbeenimpertinent.IsattherewonderingwhatIoughttodo.Iwascertainlynotgoingtodo as hehad toldme. The only hope I had ofmymaking any sort ofcontactwiththepeopleTufanwasinterestedinwasthroughthecar.IfIjustletitgolikethatIwouldbehelpless.EvenwithoutTufan’sorderstocarryoutIwouldhaverefused.HarperhadsaidthatIwouldbepaidandgetmyletterbackwhenthejobwasdone.He,orsomeoneinhisbehalf,wouldhavetofulfillthoseconditionsbeforeIsurrenderedcontrolofthecar.Hemusthaveknownthat,too.AfterwhathadhappenedinAthenshe could scarcely have expected me to trust to his good nature. Andwhat had happened to all that talk of driving forMiss Lippwhile shewasinTurkey?Ihidthecarnetundersomeshelfliningpaperontopofthewardrobeandwentout.IttookmeabouttenminutestowalktotheHilton.Iapproachedthecarparkbriskly,swingingmykeysinmyhandasifIweregoingtopickupacaralreadythere.Iguessedthateitherthemanwho had telephoned or someone acting on his instructions would bewaitingfortheLincolntoarrive,allreadytodriveitawaytheinstantIhadgone.InIstanbul,itisunwisetoleaveeventhepoorestcarunlockedandunattendedforverylong.Ispottedhimalmostimmediately.Hewasstandingattheouterendofthe Hilton driveway smoking a cigarette and staring into the middledistance,as ifheweretryingtodecidewhethertogostraighthometohiswifeorvisithisgirlfriendfirst.RememberingthatIwouldhavetogiveTufanhisdescription,Itookverycarefulnoteofhim.Hewasaboutforty-fiveandthickset,withabarrelchestandamopofcrinklygrayhairaboveabrownpuffyface.Theeyeswerebrown,too.Hewaswearingathin light-gray suit, yellow socks, and plaited leather sandals. Heightaboutfiveten,Ithought.Iwalkedthroughthecarparktomakesurethattherewerenootherpossibilitiesthere,thencameouttheothersideandwalkedbackalongthestreetforanotherglimpseofhim.

Hewaslookingathiswatch.ThecarshouldhavebeentherebythenifIwerefollowinginstructions.IwalkedstraightbacktotheParkHotel.AsIunlockedthedoortomy

roomIcouldhearthetelephoneinsideringing.Itwasthesamevoiceagain,butperemptorynow.“Simpson?Iunderstandthatthecarisnotyetdelivered.Whatareyou

doing?”“Whoisthatspeaking?”“The friend ofMiss Lipp. Answermy question, please.Where is the

car?”“Thecarisquitesafeandwillremainso.”“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”“Thecarnetisinthehotelstrong-roomandthecarisgaraged.Itwill

remainthatwayuntilIhanditovertoMr.HarperorsomeoneholdingcredentialsfromMr.Harper.”“ThecaristhepropertyofMissLipp.”“The carnet is thenameofMiss Lipp,” I answered; “but the carwas

placed inmycarebyMr.Harper. Iamresponsible for it. Idon’tknowMissLippexceptbyname.Idon’tknowyouevenbyname.Youseethedifficulty?”“Wait.”Iheardhimstarttosaysomethingtosomeonewithhim:“Ilditque…”

Andthenheclampedahandoverthetelephone.Iwaited.After a fewmomentshe spokeagain. “Iwill come toyour

hotel.Remainthere.”Withoutwaitingformyagreement,hehungup.IwentupstairstothefoyerandtoldthedeskclerkthatIwouldbeout

on the terrace if I were wanted. The terrace was crowded, but Ieventually managed to find a table and order a drink. I was quitepreparedtomakethecontact;butIhadnotlikedthesoundofthemanon the telephone, and preferred to encounter him in a public placeratherthanintheprivacyofmyroom.I had left my name with the head waiter, and after about twenty

minutes I saw him pointing me out to a tall, cadaverous man with anarrow,baldheadandlargeprojectingears.Themancameover.Hewaswearingacream-and-brown-stripedsportsshirtandtanlinenslacks.Hehadalong,petulantupperlipandamouththatdroopedatthecorners.“Simpson?”

“Yes.”He sat down facingme. Brown eyes, one gold tooth left side lower

jaw, gold-and-onyx signet ring on little finger of left hand; I madementalnotes.“Whoareyou?”Iasked.“MynameisFischer.”“Willyouhaveadrink,Mr.Fischer?”“No.IwishtoclearthismisunderstandingrelativetoMissLipp’scar.”“Thereisnomisunderstandinginmymind,Mr.Fischer,”Ianswered.

“MyordersfromMr.Harperwerequiteexplicit.”“Your orders were to await orders at the hotel,” he snapped. “You

havenotcompliedwiththem.”I looked respectfullyapologetic. “I amnotdoubting thatyouhavea

perfectrighttogivethoseorders,Mr.Fischer,butIassumed,naturally,thatMr.Harperwouldbehere,orifnothereinperson,thathewouldhavegivenawrittenauthorization.ThatisaveryvaluablecarandI…”“Yes, yes.”Hebroke in impatiently. “Iunderstand.Thepoint is that

Mr.Harper has been delayed until tomorrow afternoon andMiss Lippwisheshercaratonce.”“I’msorry.”Heleanedacross thetabletowardsmeandIcaughtawhiffofafter-

shavelotion.“Mr.HarperwouldnotbepleasedthatyouputMissLipptothe trouble of coming to Istanbul herself to claim her car,” he saidmenacingly.“IthoughtMissLippwasinIstanbul.”“She isat thevilla,”he said shortly. “Nowwewillhavenomoreof

thisnonsense,please.YouandIwillgoandgetthecarimmediately.”“IfyouhaveMr.Harper’swrittenauthority,ofcourse.”“IhaveMr.Harper’sauthority.”“MayIseeit,sir?”“Thatisnotnecessary.”“I’mafraidthatisformetodecide.”Hesatbackbreathingdeeply.“Iwillgiveyouonemorechance,”he

saidafterapause. “Eitheryouhandover thecar immediatelyor stepswillbetakentocompelyoutodoso.”As he said the word “compel,” his right hand came out and

deliberatelyflickedthedrinkinfrontofmeintomylap.

At thatmoment something happened tome. I had been through anawfultwenty-fourhours,ofcourse;butIdon’tthinkitwasonlythat.Isuddenlyfeltasifmywholelifehadbeenspenttryingtodefendmyselfagainstpeoplecompellingmetodothisorthat,andalwayssucceedingbecausetheyhadallthepowerontheirside;andthen,justassuddenly,I realized that for once the powerwasmine; for once Iwasn’t onmyown.I picked up the glass, set it back on the table, and dabbed at mytrousers with my handkerchief. He watched me intently, like a boxerwaitingfortheothermantogettohisfeetafteraknockdown,readytomoveinforthekill.I called thewaiter over. “If this gentlemanwished tomakea reportaboutamissingcartothepolice,whereshouldhego?”“ThereisapolicepostinTaximSquare,sir.”“Thankyou.Ispilledmydrink.Wipethetableandbringmeanother,please.”Asthewaitergotbusywithhiscloth,IlookedacrossatFischer.“Wecouldgothere together,” I said.“Or, ifyouwouldprefer it, Icouldgoalone and explain the situation. Of course, I expect the police wouldwanttogetintouchwithyou.WhereshouldItellthemtofindyou?”The waiter had finished wiping the table and was moving away.Fischerwasstaringatmeuncertainly.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”hesaid.“Whosaidanythingaboutthepolice?”“Youweretalkingofcompellingmetohandoverthecartoyou.Onlythepolicecouldmakemedo that.” Ipaused.“Unless, that is,youhadsomeothersortofcompulsioninmind.Inthatcase,perhapsIshouldgotothepoliceanyway.”Hedidnotknowwhattosaytothat.Hejuststared.ItwasallIcoulddonot tosmile. Itwasquiteobvious thatheknewperfectlywellwhatwashidden in thecar,and that thevery last thinghewantedwas thepolicetakinganinterestinit.NowhehadtomakesurethatIdidn’tgotothem.“Thereisnoneedforthat,”hesaidfinally.“I’mnotsosure.”ThewaiterbroughtmethedrinkandImotionedtoFischer.“Thisgentlemanwillpay.”Fischerhesitated,thenthrewsomemoneyonthetableandstoodup.

Hewasdoinghisbesttoregaincontrolofthesituationbytryingtolookinsulted.“Verywell,” he said stiffly, “we shall have towait forMr. Harper’sarrival. It is very inconvenient and I shall report your insubordinatebehaviortohim.Hewillnotemployyouagain.”Andthen,ofcourse,Ihadtogotoofar.“Whenheknowshowcarelessyoucanbe,maybehewon’thavemuchuseforyoueither.”It was a silly thing to say, because it implied that I knew that thesituationwasnotwhatitappearedonthesurface,andIwasn’tsupposedtoknow.Hiseyesnarrowed.“WhatdidHarpertellyouaboutme?”“Until tonight I didn’t evenknowyou existed.What shouldhehavetoldme?”Withoutansweringheturnedandwent.I finished my drink slowly and planned my movements for theevening.Itwouldbebest,Ithought,todineinthehotel.Apartfromthefactthatthecostofthemealwouldgoonthebill,whichHarperwouldbepaying,Iwasn’ttookeenongoingoutjustthen.Fischerhadseemedtoacceptthesituation;buttherewasjustachancethathemightchangehis mind and decide to get rough after all. Tufan’s men would becoveringme,presumably,but Ididn’t knowwhat theirorderswere. Ifsomeoneweretobeatmeup,itwouldn’tbemuchconsolationtoknowthat theywerestandingby takingnotes. Itwascertainlybetter tostayin.Theonlyproblemwastheteno’clocktelephonereport.Ihadalreadynoticed that the public telephones in the foyer were handled by anoperatorwho put the calls through the hotel switchboard, so I wouldhavetoriskgoingoutlater.Unless,thatis,Imissedtheteno’clockcallandleftituntilthemorningateight.TheonlytroublewasthatIwouldthenhavetoexplaintoTufanwhyIhaddoneso,andIdidnotwanttohavetoexplainthatIwasafraidofanythingthatFischermightdo.Mytrouserswere still dampwherehehadupset thedrinkoverme, and IwasstillrememberinghowgoodithadfelttomakehimclimbdownanddowhatIwanted.IcouldnotexpectTufantorealizehowsuccessfullyIhadhandledFischer if I had to start by admitting that I hadbeen toonervoustoleavethehotelafterwards.AllIcoulddowastominimizetherisk.ThenearestcaféIknewofwastheoneonthesidestreetbelowmyroom.Withsomany lightedhotel

windows above, the street would not be too dark for safety. Thetelephonewouldprobablybeonthebar,butwithanyluckthenoiseofthemusicwouldcompensatefor the lackofprivacy.Anyway, itwouldhavetodo.By the time I had finisheddinner Iwas feeling so tired that I could

hardlykeepmyeyesopen.Iwentbacktotheterraceanddrankbrandyuntilitwastimeforthecall.AsIwalkedfromthehotelentrancetotheroadIhadtogetoutofthe

wayofataxiandwasabletoglanceovermyshouldercasuallyasiftomakesurethatitwassafetowalkon.Therewasamaninachauffeur’scapabouttwentyyardsbehindme.Becauseofthecontoursofthehillandthewaythestreettwistedand

turned,ittookmelongerthanIhadexpectedtogettothecafé.Themanin the chauffeur’s cap stayed behind me. I listened carefully to hisfootsteps.Ifhehadstartedtoclosein,Iwouldhavemadeadashforthecafé;buthekepthisdistance,soIassumedthathewasoneofTufan’smen.Allthesameitwasnotaverypleasantwalk.Thetelephonewasonthewallbehindthebar.Therewasnocoinbox

and youhad to ask the proprietor to get the number so that he knewwhattochargeyou.Hecouldn’tspeakanythingbutTurkish,soIwrotethenumberdownandmadesigns.Thenoiseofthemusicwasn’tasbadinsidetheplaceasitsoundedfrommyroom,butitwasloudenough.Tufanansweredimmediatelyandcharacteristically.“Youarelate.”“I’msorry.Youtoldmenottocallthroughthehotelswitchboard.Iam

inacafé.”“YouwenttotheHiltonHoteljustaftersix.Why?Makeyourreport.”Itoldhimwhathadhappened.Ihadtorepeatthedescriptionsofthe

manat theHiltoncarparkandofFischer so thathecouldwrite themdown.Myreporton themeetingwithFischerseemedtoamusehimatfirst.Idon’tknowwhy.Ihadnotexpectedanythanks,butIfeltthatIhadearnedat leastagruntofapproval formyquickthinking. Instead,hemademerepeattheconversationandthenbeganharpingonFischer’sreference to a villa outside Istanbul and asking a lot of questions forwhich I had no answers. It was very irritating; although, of course, Ididn’tsayso.Ijustaskedifhehadanyadditionalordersforme.“No,but Ihavesomeinformation.HarperandtheLippwomanhave

reservations on an Olympic Airways plane from Athens tomorrowafternoon. It arrives at four. The earliest you will hear from himprobablywillbeanhourafterthat.”“SupposinghegivesmethesameordersasFischer—tohandoverthe

carwithitspapers—whatdoIdo?”“Askforyourwagesandtheletteryouwrote.”“Supposinghegivesthemtome.”“Thenyoumustgiveupthecar,butforgettobringthecarnetandthe

insurancepapers.OrremindhimofhispromisethatyoucouldworkforMiss Lipp. Be persistent. Use your intelligence. Imagine that he is anordinarytouristwhomyouaretryingtocheat.Now,ifthereisnothingmore,youcangotobed.Reporttomeagaintomorrownight.”“Onemoment,sir.Thereissomething.”Ihadhadanidea.“Whatisit?”“Thereissomethingthatyoucoulddo,sir.If,beforeIspeaktoHarper,

Icouldhavealicenseasanofficialguidewithtomorrow’sdateonit,itmighthelp.”“How?”“It would show that in the expectation of drivingMiss Lipp on her

tour, Ihadgoneto thetroubleandexpenseofobtainingthe license. ItwouldlookasifIhadtakenhimseriously.Ifheorshereallywantedadriverforthecaritmightmakeadifference.”Hedidnotanswerimmediately.Thenhesaid:“Good,verygood.”“Thankyou,sir.”“Yousee,Simpson,whenyouapplyyourintelligencetocarryingout

orders instead of seeing only the difficulties, you become effective.” Itwas just likeTheBristle inoneofhisgoodmoods.“Youremember,ofcourse,”hewenton,“that,asaforeigner,youcouldnotholdaguide’slicense.DoyouthinkHarpermightknowthat?”“I’malmostsurehedoesn’t.Ifhedoes,IcansaythatIbribedsomeone

togetit.Hewouldbelieveme.”“I would believe you myself, Simpson.” He chuckled fatuously,

enchanted by his own joke. “Very well, you shall have it by noon,deliveredtothehotel.”“Youwillneedaphotographofmeforit.”“Wehaveone.Don’ttellmeyouhaveforgottensosoon.Andaword

of caution. You know only a few words of Turkish. Don’t attract

attentiontoyourselfsothatyouareaskedtoshowthelicense.Itmightcausetroublewithmuseumguards.Youunderstand?”“Iunderstand.”Hehungup.Ipaidtheproprietorforthecallandleft.Outside,themaninthechauffeur’scapwaswaitingupthestreet.He

walked ahead ofme back to the hotel. I suppose he knewwhy I hadbeentothecafé.TherewasaguidetoIstanbulonsaleattheconcierge’sdesk.Ibought

one with the idea of brushing up on my knowledge of the Places ofInterestandhowtogettothem.OnmywaydowntomyroomIhadtolaugh to myself. “Never volunteer for anything,” my father had said.Well, I hadn’t exactly volunteered for what I was doing now, but itseemedtomethatIwassuddenlygettingbloodyconscientiousaboutit.Ispentmostof thefollowingmorninginbed.JustbeforenoonIgot

dressedandwentuptothefoyertoseeifTufanhadrememberedaboutthe guide’s license. He had; it was in a sealed Ministry of Tourismenvelopeinmymailbox.Fora fewminutes I feltquitegoodabout that. It showed, I thought,

thatTufankepthispromisesand that I could relyonhimtobackme.ThenIrealizedthattherewasanotherwayoflookingatit.Ihadaskedfor a license and I had promptly received one; Tufan expected resultsandwasn’tgivingmethesmallestexcusefornotgettingthem.Ihadmadeupmymindnottohaveanydrinksthatdaysoastokeep

aclearheadforHarper;butnowIchangedmymind.Youcan’thaveaclearheadwhen there’s a swordhangingover it. Iwas careful thoughandonlyhadthreeor fourrakis. I feltmuchbetter for them,andafterlunchIwentdowntomyroomtotakeanap.Imusthaveneededitbadly,forIwasstillasleepwhenthephonerang

atfive.Ialmostfelloffthebedinmyhastetopickitup,andthestartthatitgavememademyheadache.“Arthur?”ItwasHarper’svoice.“Yes.”“Youknowwhothisis?”“Yes.”“Carokay?”“Yes.”“Thenwhathaveyoubeenstallingfor?”

“Ihaven’tbeenstalling.”“Fischersaysyourefusedtodeliverthecar.”“Youtoldmetowaitforyourinstructions,soIwaited.Youdidn’ttell

me tohand thecarover toaperfect strangerwithoutanyproofofhisauthority…”“Allright,allright,skipit!Whereisthecar?”“Inagaragenearhere.”“DoyouknowwhereSariyeris?”“Yes.”“Get the car right away and hit the Sariyer road.When you get to

Yeniköylookatyourmileagereading,thendriveontowardsSariyerforexactlyfourmoremiles.Onyourrightyou’llcometoasmallpierwithsomeboatstiedupalongsideit.Ontheleftoftheroadoppositethepieryou’llseeadrivewayentrancebelongingtoavilla.ThenameofthevillaisSardunya.Haveyougotthat?”“Yes.”“Youshouldbehereinaboutfortyminutes.Right?”“Iwillleavenow.”SariyerisasmallfishingportattheotherendoftheBosphoruswhere

it widens out to the Black Sea, and the road to it from Istanbul runsalong theEuropean shore. Iwondered if I should try to contactTufanbefore I left and report the address I had been given, then decidedagainst it. Almost certainly, he had had Harper followed from theairport,andinanycaseIwouldbefollowedtothevilla.Therewouldbenopointinreporting.Iwenttothegarage,paidthebill,andgotthecar.Theearly-evening

trafficwasheavyandittookmetwentyminutestogetoutofthecity.ItwasaquartertosixwhenIreachedYeniköy.ThesamePeugeotwhichhadfollowedmedownfromEdirnewasfollowingmeagain.Islowedforamomenttocheckthemileageandthenpushedon.ThevillasoftheBosphorusvaryfromsmallwaterfrontholidayplaces,

withwindowboxesandlittleboathouses,tothingslikepalaces.Quiteoflotof themwere palacesonce; andbefore the capitalwasmoved fromIstanbul toAnkara thediplomaticcorpsused tohavesummerembassybuildings out along the Bosphorus, where there are cool Black Seabreezesevenwhenthecityissweltering.TheKöskSardunyalookedasifithadstartedoutinsomesuchway.

The entrance to the drive was flanked by huge stone pillars withwrought-irongates.Thedriveitselfwasseveralhundredyardslongandwoundupthehillsidethroughanavenueofbigtreeswhichalsoservedto screen the place from the road below. Finally, it left the trees andsweptintothegravelcourtyardinfrontofthevilla.Itwasoneof thosewhite stuccowedding-cakebuildingsof thekind

you see in the older parts of Nice and Monte Carlo. Some French orItalianarchitectmusthavebeenimportedaroundtheturnofthecenturytodothejob.Ithadeverything—aterracewithpillarsandbalustrades,balconies, marble steps up to the front portico, a fountain in thecourtyard, statuary, a wonderful view out over the Bosphorus—and itwashuge. Itwasalso rundown.The stuccowaspeeling inplacesandsome of the cornice moldings had crumbled or broken away. Thefountainbasinhadnowaterinit.Thecourtyardwasfringedwithweeds.AsIdrovein,IsawFischergetupfromachairontheterraceandgo

throughafrenchwindowintothehouse.SoIjustpulledupatthefootofthemarblestepsandwaited.Afteramomentortwo,HarperappearedundertheporticoandIgotoutofthecar.Hecamedownthesteps.“Whattookyousolong?”“Theyhad tomakeout a bill at the garage, and then therewas the

eveningtraffic.”“Well…”Hebrokeoffashenoticedmelookingpasthimandoverhis

shoulder.Awomanwascomingdownthesteps.He smiled slightly. “Ah yes. I was forgetting. You haven’tmet your

employer.Honey,thisisArthurSimpson.Arthur,thisisMissLipp.”

5

Somemencanmakeagoodguessatawoman’sage justby lookingatherfaceandfigure.Inevercan.Ithinkthatthismaybebecause,inspiteofMum,I fundamentallyrespectwomen.Yes, itmustbethat. Ifshe isveryattractive,butobviouslynotayounggirl,Ialwaysthinkoftwenty-eight.Ifshehasletherselfgoabit,butisobviouslynotelderly,Ithinkofforty-five.ForsomereasonIneverthinkofanyagesinbetweenthose—oroutsidethem,forthatmatter—exceptmyown,thatis.Miss Lippmademe think of twenty-eight. In fact shewas thirty-six;

butIonlyfoundthatoutlater.Shelookedtwenty-eighttome.Shewastallwithshortbrownish-blondhair,andthekindoffigurethatyouhavetonotice,nomatterwhatdresscoversit.Shealsohadthesortofeyes,insolent, sleepy, andamused, and the full good-humoredmouthwhichtell you that she knows you can’t help watching the way her bodymoves, and that she doesn’t give a damn whether you do so or not;watchingisnotgoingtogetyouanywhereanyway.Shewasn’twearingadress that first time; justwhiteslacksandsandals,anda loosewhiteshirt.Hercomplexionwasgoldenbrownandtheonlymake-upshewaswearingwaslipstick.Obviously,shehadjustbathedandchanged.Shenoddedtome.“Hullo.Notroublewiththecar?”Shehadthesame

combinationofaccentsasHarper.“No,madam.”“That’sgood.”Shedidnotseemsurprised.Fischer was coming down the steps behind her. Harper glanced at

him.“Okay, Hans, you’d better run Arthur into Sariyer.” Tome he said:

“Youcantaketheferryboatbacktotown.ArethecarnetandGreenCardintheglovecompartment?”“Ofcoursenot.Theyareinthehotelsafe.”“I told you to put them in the glove compartment,” said Fischer

angrily.IkeptmyeyesonHarper.“Youdidn’ttellme,”Isaid;“andyoudidn’ttellmetotakeordersfromyourservant.”FischersworeangrilyinGerman,andMissLippburstoutlaughing.“Butisn’theaservant?”Iaskedblandly;“hebehavedlikeone,thoughnotaverygoodone,perhaps.”Harperraisedarepressivehand.“Okay,Arthur,youcancutthatout.Mr.Fischerisaguesthereandheonlymeanttobehelpful.I’llarrangetohavethedocumentspickedupfromyoutomorrowbeforeyouleave.You’llgetpaidoffwhenyouhandthemover.”Mystomachheaved.“But Iunderstood,sir, that Iwas toactasMissLipp’sdriverwhilesheisinTurkey.”“That’sokay,Arthur.I’llhiresomeonelocally.”“Icandrivethecar,”saidFischerimpatiently.Harper and Miss Lipp both turned on him. Harper said somethingsharply inGermanandsheaddedinEnglish:“Besides,youdon’tknowtheroads.”“And I do know the roads,madam.” Iwas trying hard tomakemyinnerpaniccomeoutsoundinglikerespectfulindignation.“OnlytodayIwenttothetroubleandexpenseofobtaininganofficialguide’s licensesothatIcoulddothejobwithoutinconveniencetoyou.IwasaguideinIstanbul before.” I turned to Harper and thrust the license under hisnose.“Look,sir!”Hefrownedatitandmeincredulously.“Youmeanyoureallywantthejob?” he demanded. “I thought all youwantedwas this.”He tookmyletteroutofhispocket.“Certainly,Iwantthat,sir.”ItwasallIcoulddotostopmyselffromreachingout for it. “Butyouarealsopayingmeahundreddollars forthreeorfourdays’work.”Ididmybesttoproduceagrin.“AsItoldyouinAthens,sir,forthatmoneyIdonothavetobepersuadedtowork.”He glanced at her and she answered, with a shrug, in German. Iunderstoodthelastthreewords:“…manEnglishspeaks.”Hiseyescametomeagain.“Youknow,Arthur,”hesaidthoughtfully,“you’vechanged.Youcouldbeoffthehookifyouwanted,butnowyoudon’twanttobeoff.Why?”This was just answerable. I looked at the letter in his hand. “Youdidn’tsendthat.Iwasafraidallthetimethatyou’dsentitanyway,out

ofspite.”“Eventhoughitwouldhavecostmethreehundreddollars?”“It wouldn’t have cost you anything. The checks would have beenreturnedtoyoueventually.”“That’s true.” He nodded. “Not bad, Arthur. Now tell me what youmeantwhenyoutoldMr.Fischerthathe’dbeencareless.Whatdidyouthinkhe’dbeencarelessabout?”They were all three waiting for my answer to that. The men’ssuspicion of me was in the air andMiss Lipp had smelled it as well.Whatwasmore,shedidn’tlookintheleastpuzzledbywhatHarperwassaying.Whateverthegamewas,theywereallinit.I did the best I could. “Why? Because of the way he’d behaved, ofcourse.Becausehehadbeencareless.Oh,heknewyournameallrightandheknewenoughtogetintouchwithme,butIknewhecouldn’tbeactingonyourorders.”“Howdidyouknow?”I pointed to the letter. “Because of that. You’d toldme it was yourinsurance. You’d know I wouldn’t turn the car over to a completestrangerwithoutgettingmyletterback.Hedidn’tevenmentionit.”HarperlookedatFischer.“Yousee?”“Iwasonlytryingtosavetime,”saidFischerangrily.“Ihavesaidso.Thisdoesnotexplainwhyheusedthatword.”“No,itdoesn’t,”Isaid.Theonlywaywastobullitthrough.“Butthisdoes.Whenhe started threateningme I offered to gowith him to thepoliceandsettlethematter.I’veneverseenanyonebackdownsofastinmylife.”“Thatisalie!”Fischershouted;buthewasn’tsosureofhimselfnow.I looked at Harper. “Anyone who pulls that sort of bluff withoutknowingwhattodowhenit’scalled,iscarelesstomywayofthinking.IfMr.Fischerhadbeenadishonestservant insteadofyourhelpfulguest,you’d have said I’d been pretty careless to let him get away with afourteen-thousand-dollarcar.I’dbeluckyifthatwasallyousaid.”Therewasabriefsilence,thenHarpernodded.“Well,Arthur,IguessMr. Fischer won’t mind accepting your apology. Let’s say it was amisunderstanding.”Fischershrugged.Just what Harper thought I was making of the situation I cannot

imagine. Even if I hadn’t knownwhatwas hidden in the car, Iwouldhave realized by now that therewas something really fishy going on.MissLipp,inTurkeyforalittleten-daytouristtripwithaLincolnandavilla the size of the Taj Mahal, was sufficiently improbable. Theshenanigansoverthedeliveryofthecarhadbeenpositivelygrotesque.However, itwassoonapparentthatnothingImightthinkorsuspect

wasgoingtogiveHarperanysleeplessnights.“Allright,Arthur,”hesaid,“you’vegottenyourselfadeal.Ahundred

aweek.YoustillhavethatfiftydollarsIgaveyou?”“Yes,sir.”“WillthattakecareofthebillatthePark?”“Ithinkso.”“Right. Here’s the hundred you have coming for the trip down. Go

back to townnow. In themorningcheckoutof thehotel.Then takeaferryboat back to Sariyer pier so that you get there around eleven.Someonewillmeetyou.We’llfindaroomforyouhere.”“Thankyou,sir,butIcanfindaroominahotel.”“Thereisn’tahotelnearerthanSariyer,andthat’stoofaraway.You’d

havetousethecartogettoandfro,andit’dalwaysbetherewhenwewantedithere.Besides,we’vegotplentyofrooms.”“Verywell,sir.MayIhavemyletter?”Heputitbackinhispocket.“Sure.Whenyou’repaidoffattheendof

thejob.Thatwasthedeal,remember?”“Iremember,”Isaidgrimly.Ofcourse,hethoughtthat,bystillholdingtheletteroverme,hewas

makingsurethatI toedtheline,andthat, if IhappenedtoseeorhearanythingthatIshouldn’t,Iwouldbetooscaredtodoanythingbutkeepmymouth shut about it.The fact thathewasn’t beingas clever ashethoughtwasnoconsolationtome. IwantedtogetbacktoAthensandNicki,butIwantedthatletterfirst.“Youwilldrive,”saidFischer.Isaid“Goodnight,madam,”toMissLipp,butshedidn’tseemtohear.

ShewasalreadywalkingbackupthestepswithHarper.Fischer got into the back seat. I thought at first that he merely

intended,inapettyway,toshowmewhowasboss;but,asIdrovebackdown to the road, I saw him looking over the door panels. He wasobviouslystillsuspicious.Ithankedmystarsthatthepackinghadbeen

carefullydone.Itwasalmostcomfortingtoseethesand-coloredPeugeotinthedrivingmirror.Hedidn’tsayanythingtomeontheway.InSariyer,Istoppedatthepierapproachandturnedthecarforhim.ThenIgotoutandopenedthedoorasifhewereroyalty.I’dhopeditwouldmakehimfeelabitsilly,butitdidn’tseemto.Withoutawordhegotinbehindthewheel,gavemeablacklook,andtoreoffbackalongthecoastroadlikeamaniac.ThePeugeothadstoppedandturnedaboutahundredyardsback,andamanwas scramblingoutof its frontpassenger seat.He slammed thedoorandthePeugeotshotawayaftertheLincoln.Therewasaferryboatalreadyatthepier,andIdidnotwaittoseeifthemanwhohadgotoutfollowedme.Isupposehedid.I was back at the Kabatas ferry pier soon after eight and shared adolmuscabgoinguptoTaximSquare.ThenIwalkeddowntothehotelandhadadrinkortwo.I needed them. I had managed to do what Tufan wanted, up to apoint.IwasintouchwithHarperandwouldforthemomentremainso.On the other hand, by agreeing to stay at the villa I had put myselfvirtuallyoutof touchwithTufan;at leastas farasregularcontactwasconcerned.Therewasnowayofknowingwhatlifeatthevillawasgoingtobelike,norwhatwouldbeexpectedofmethere.Itmightbeeasyformetogetouttoasafetelephone,oritmightbequitedifficult.IfIwereseen telephoning,Harperwould immediatelyget suspicious.Whodid IknowinIstanbul?Whatwasthenumber?Callitagain.Andsoon.YetIdidn’t see how I could have refused to stay there. If I had argued thepointany further,Harpermighthavechangedhismindaboutkeepingmeon.Tufancouldn’thaveitbothways;andImadeupmymindtotellhimsoifhestartedmoaningatme.Ihadsomedinnerandwentdowntothecafébesidethehotel.Amanwithaporter’sharnessonhisbackfollowedmethistime.Tufandidnotmoanatmeasamatteroffact;butwhenIhadfinishedmyreporthewassilentforsolongthatIthoughthe’dhungup.Isaid:“Hullo.”“Iwasthinking,”hesaid;“itwillbenecessaryforustomeettonight.Areyouinthecaféinthestreetbythehotel?”“Yes.”“Waitfiveminutes,thengouptothehotelandwalkalongthestreet

pastitforaboutahundredyards.Youwillseeasmallbrowncarparkedthere.”“ThePeugeotthat’sbeenfollowingme?”“Yes.Openthedoorandgetitbesidethedriver.Hewillknowwhere

totakeyou.Isthatclear?”“Yes.”I paid for the telephone call and bought a drink. When the five

minuteswereupIleft.As I approached the Peugeot, the driver leaned across and pushed

open the door forme to get in. Then he drove off past the hotel anddownthehilltowardstheNecatiBeyAvenue.Hewasayoung,plump,darkman.Thecarsmelledofcigarettes,hair

oil,andstalefood.Inhisjob,Isuppose,hehadtoeatmostofhismealssittinginthecar.TherewasaV.H.F.two-waytaxiradiofittedunderthedash, and every now and again Turkish voiceswould squawk throughtheloudspeaker.Heappearednottobelisteningtothem.AfteraminuteorsohebegantotalktomeinFrench.“DidyoulikedrivingtheLincoln?”heasked.“Yes,it’sagoodcar.”“Buttoobigandlong.Isawthetroubleyouhadinthenarrowstreets

thisafternoon.”“It’s very fast though.Were you able to keep upwith himwhenhe

drovebacktothevilla?”“Oh,hestoppedaboutakilometeruptheroadandbeganlookingat

thedoors.Didtheyrattle?”“NotthatInoticed.Didhestoplong?”“Aminuteortwo.Afterthathedidnotgosofast.Butthislittle…”Hebroke off andpickedup amicrophone as a fresh lot of squawks

cameovertheradio.“Evet,effendi,evet,”heanswered,thenputthemicrophoneback.“But

thislittlemachinecanshowthosebigonesathingortwo.OnanarrowhillwithcornersIcanleavethemstanding.”HehadturnedontotheAvenueandwewererunningparallel to the

shore.“Wherearewegoing?”Iasked.“Iamnotpermittedtoanswerquestions.”WewerepassingthestateentrancetotheDolmabahçePalacenow.

Itwasbuiltinthelastcenturywhenthesultansgaveupwearingrobesand turbansand took toblack frockcoatsand the fez.Fromthe sea itlooks like a lakeside grand hotel imported from Switzerland; but fromtheroad,becauseof theveryhighstonewallenclosing thegrounds, itlookslikeaprison.Thereisabouthalfamileofthiswallrunningalongthe right-hand side of the road, and just to look up at it gaveme anuncomfortablefeeling.ItremindedmeoftheyardatMaidstone.ThenIsawalighthighuponthewallahead,andthedriverbeganto

slowdown.“Whatarewestoppingherefor?”Iasked.Hedidnotanswer.Thelightcamefromareflectorfloodandthebeamofitshonedown

vertically onto an armed sentry. Behind himwas a pair of huge iron-boundwoodengates.Oneofthemwashalfopen.Thecarstoppedjustshortofthegatesandthedriveropenedhisdoor.“Wegetout,”hesaid.I joinedhimontheroadwayandheledthewayuptothegates.He

saidsomethingtothesentry,whomotioneduson.Wewentthroughthegapbetweenthegatesandturnedleft.TherewasalightburninginwhatIassumedwastheguardroom.Heledthewayupalowflightofstepstothe door. Inside was a bare room with a table and chair. A younglieutenant—Isupposehewasorderlyofficeroftheday—satonthetabletalkingtothesergeantoftheguard,whowasstanding.Aswecamein,theofficerstoodup,too,andsaidsomethingtothedriver.He turned tome. “Youhave a guide’s license,” he said. “You are to

showittothisofficer.”Ididso.Hehandeditbacktome,pickedupaflashlight,andsaidin

French:“Followme,please.”The driver stayed behindwith the sergeant of the guard. I followed

the lieutenant down the steps again and across some unevencobblestonestoanarrowroadwayrunningalongthesideofabuildingwhichseemedtobeabarracks.ThewindowsshowedlightsandIcouldhearthesoundofvoicesandaradioplayingcaz.Therewerelightpostsatintervals,and,althoughthesurfaceoftheroadwasbrokeninplaces,it was just possible to see where one was walking. Then we wentthrough a high archway out of the barracks area into some sort ofgarden.Here itwasverydark.Therewas somemoonlightand I could

seepartsof thewhitebulkof thepalace looming to the leftofus,buttrees shadowed the ground. The lieutenant switched on his flashlightand told me to be careful where I walked. It was necessary advice.Restorationworkseemedtobeinprogress.Therewerelooseflagstonesandmasonryrubbleeverywhere.Finally,however,wecametoasolidlypavedwalk.Aheadwasadoorwayand,besideit,alightedwindow.The lieutenantopened thedoor andwent in.The light came fromajanitor’sroomjustinside,and,asthelieutenantentered,amaninadrabblueuniformcameout.Hehad somekeys inhishand.The lieutenantsaid something to him. The janitor answered briefly, and then,with acurious glance at me, led the way across a hall and up a staircase,switchingonlightsashewent.Atthelandingheturnedoffdownalongcorridor with a lot of closed doors along one side and grilled,uncurtainedwindowsontheother.Therewascarpetonthefloorwithanarrowdruggetalongthemiddletosavewear.Fromtheproportionsofthestaircaseandtheheightoftheceilingsitwas obvious that we were in a large building; but there was nothingnoticeably palatial about that part of it. We might have been in aprovincial townhall. Thewallswere coveredwithdingyoil paintings.Thereseemedtobehundredsofthem,mostlylandscapeswithcattleorbattlescenes,andallwiththesameyellowy-brownvarnishcolor.Idon’tknowanythingaboutpaintings.Isupposetheymusthavebeenvaluableortheywouldnothavebeeninapalace;but I foundthemdepressing,likethesmellofmothballs.Therewasapairofheavymetaldoorsattheendofthatcorridor,andbeyonditmorecorridorsandmorepaintings.“Weareinwhatusedtobethepalaceharemnow,”thelieutenantsaidimpressively. “The steel doors guarded it. Each woman had her ownsuite of rooms. Now certain important government departments havetheirofficeshere.”Iwasabout to say:“Ah, takenoverby theeunuchs,youmean,”butthoughtbetterof it.Hedidnot lookas ifhecaredfor jokes.Besides, Ihadhadalongdayandwasfeelingtired.Wewentonthroughanotherlot of steel doors. I was resigned to more corridors, when the janitorstopped and unlocked the door of one of the rooms. The lieutenantturnedonthelightsandmotionedmein.Itwasnotmuch larger thanmy roomat thePark, butprobably the

height of the ceiling and the heavy red-and-gold curtains over thewindowmadeitseemsmaller.Thewallswerehungwithpatternedredsilkandseveral largepaintings.Therewasaparquet floorandawhitemarblefireplace.Adozengiltarmchairsstoodaroundthewalls,asiftheroom had just been cleared for dancing. The office desk and chairsstandinginthecenterlookedlikeapartyofbadlydressedgatecrashers.“You may sit down and you may smoke,” the lieutenant said; “butplease be careful if you smoke to put out your cigarettes in thefireplace.”The janitor left, shutting the door behind him. The lieutenant satdownatthedeskandbegantousethetelephone.Thepaintingsintheroomwere,withoneexception,ofthekindIhadseeninthecorridors,onlybigger.OnonewallwasaDutchfishingboatin a storm; facing it, alongside a most un-Turkish group of nymphsbathing in a woodland stream, was a Russian cavalry charge. Thepainting over the fireplace, however, was undoubtedly Turkish. Itshowedabeardedmaninafrockcoatandfezfacingthreeotherbeardedmenwhowere lookingathimas ifhehadB.O.orhadsaidsomethingdisgusting.Twoofthegroupworeglitteringuniforms.When the lieutenanthad finished telephoning, I askedhimwhat thepaintingwasabout.“ThatistheleadersofthenationdemandingtheabdicationofSultanAbdulHamidtheSecond.”“Isn’tthatratherastrangepicturetohaveinaSultan’spalace?”“Notinthispalace.AgreatermanthananyoftheSultansdiedhere,greater even than Suleiman.” He gave me a hard, challenging look,daringmetodenyit.Iagreedhastily.HewentintoalongramblingaccountoftheiniquitiesoftheBayar-Menderesgovernmentandofthereasonswhyithadbeennecessary for the army to clean out that rats’ nest and form theCommittee of National Union. Over the need to shoot down withoutmercy all whowere trying to wreck the Committee’s work, especiallythosemembersof theDemocraticpartywhohadescapedjusticeat thearmy’shands,hebecamesovehement thathewasstillharanguingmewhenMajorTufanwalkedintotheroom.I felt almost sorry for the lieutenant. He snapped to attention,mumblingapologieslikealitany.Tufanhadbeenimpressiveenoughin

civilianclothes;inuniformandwithapistolonhisbelthelookedasifhe were on his way to take charge of a firing squad—and lookingforward keenly to the job.He listened to the lieutenant for about fiveseconds,thendismissedhimwithaflickofahand.As the door closed on the lieutenant, Tufan appeared to noticeme.

“Do you know that President Kemal Atatürk died in this palace?” heasked.“Igatheredsofromthelieutenant.”“Itwasin1938.TheDirectorwasmuchwithhimbeforetheendand

the President talked freely. One thing he said theDirector has alwaysremembered. ‘If I can live another fifteen years, I canmade Turkey ademocracy. If I die sooner, itwill take three generations.’ That youngofficerprobablyrepresentsthetypeofdifficultyhehadinmind.”Heputhisbriefcaseonthedeskandsatdown.“Now,astoyourdifficulties.Wehavebothhadtimetothink.Whatdoyoupropose?”“UntilIknowwhatit’sgoingtobelikeatthevilla,Idon’tseehowI

canproposeanything.”“Asyouaretheirchauffeur, itwillobviouslybenecessaryforyouto

attend to the fuelingof the car.There is a garageoutside Sariyer thatyoucouldgoto.Ithasatelephone.”“Ihadthoughtofthat,butitmaynotbereliable.Itdependsonhow

muchthecarisused.Forexample,ifIonlydriveintoIstanbulandback,I can’t pretend to need petrol immediately. That car takes over ahundredliters.IfIwerealwaysgoingtothegarageatafixedtimetofillupnomatterwhatmileageIhaddriven,theywouldbecomesuspicious.”“Wecandispensewith the fixed time. Ihavearranged fora twenty-

four-hourwatch.Andevenifyouforeseefuturedifficulties,youshouldbe able to make one single call to report on them. After that, ifnecessary, wewill use a differentmethod. It will entail more risk foryou, but that cannot be avoided. Youwill have towrite your reports.Then you will put the report inside an empty cigarette packet. Theperson following you at the time—I have arranged to have the carchangedeveryday—willthenpickthereportsup.”“Youmeanyouexpectmetothrowthemoutofthewindowandhope

theywon’tnotice?”“Of course not. You will drop them whenever you find a suitable

momentwhenyouhavestoppedandareoutsidethecar.”

Ithoughtitover;thatpartofitmightnotbesobad.IwouldjusthavetomakesurethatIhadplentyofcigarettepackets.WhatIdidnotlikewashavingtowriteoutthereports.Isaidso.“Thereisaslightrisk,Iagree,”hesaid;“butyouwillhavetotakeit.

Remember,theywillonlysearchyouifyouhavegiventhemreasontosuspectyou.Youmustbecarefulnotto.”“Istillhavetowritethereports.”“Youcandothatinthetoilet.Idonotimagineyouwillbeobserved

there.Now,astoourcommunicatinginformationandorderstoyou.”Heopenedhisbriefcaseandtookoutasmallportabletransistorradioofthetype I had seenGerman tourists carrying. “Youwill carry this in yourbag. If it shouldbeseen,oryoushouldbeheardusing it,youwill saythat itwasgiven toyoubyaGermanclient.Normally it receivesonlystandard broadcast frequencies, but this one has beenmodified. I willshowyou.”Heslippeditoutofthecarryingcase,tookthebackoff,andpointed to a small switch just by the battery compartment. “If youoperate that switch it will receive V.H.F. transmissions on a fixedfrequencyfromuptohalfamileaway.Thetransmissionswillbemadeto you from a surveillance car. It is a systemwe have tried out, and,providingtherearenolargeobstaclessuchasbuildingsbetweenthetwopoints, itworks.Your listeningtimeswillbeseveninthemorningandelevenatnight.Isthatclear?Forsecurityitwillbebetterifyouusetheearphoneattachment.”“I see. You say it has beenmodified. Does that mean that it won’t

receiveordinarybroadcasts?BecauseifsoIcouldn’texplainit…”“Itwillworknormallyunlessyoumovethisswitch.”Hereplacedthe

back.“Nowthen,Ihavesomeinformationforyou.BothHarperandMissLipparetravelingonSwisspassports.Wehadnotimeattheairporttodiscover, without arousing suspicion, if the passports were genuine ornot. The relevant particulars are as follows:Walter Karl Harper, agedthirty-eight,describedasanengineer,placeofbirthBerne,andElizabethMaria Lipp, aged thirty-six, described as a student, place of birthSchaffhausen.”“Astudent?”“Anyonecanbedescribedasastudent. It ismeaningless.Now,asto

theKösk Sardunya.”He referred to a paper in the briefcase. “It is theproperty of the widow of a former minister in the government of

PresidentInönü.Sheisnearlyeightynowandhasforsomeyearslivedquietlywithherdaughter in Izmir. Shehas from time to time tried tosellSardunya,butnobodyhadwishedtobuyatthepricesheasks.Forthepasttwoyears,shehasleaseditfurnishedtoaNATOnavalmissionwhich had business in the zone. The mission’s work ended at thebeginning of the year. Her agent here in Istanbul was unable to findanothertenantuntilthreemonthsago.ThenhereceivedaninquiryfromanAustriannamedFischer—yes,exactly—whowasstayingattheHiltonHotel.Fischer’sothernamesareHansAndreas,andhegaveanaddressinVienna.Hewantedafurnishedvillafortwomonths,notaparticularvilla,butoneinthatneighborhoodandneartotheshore.Hewaswillingtopaywellforashortlease,andgaveadepositinSwissfrancs.Onthelease,whichisinhisname,hisoccupationisgivenasmanufacturer.Hearrived threeweeksago,when the leasebegan,andhasnot registeredwiththepolice.Wehavenotyettracedtherecordofhisentry,sowedonothaveallpassportparticularsabouthim.”“Whatisheamanufacturerof?”“Wedonotknow.WehavesentaninquirytoInterpol,butIexpecta

negative reply.We receivednegative replies onbothHarper andLipp.Thatincreasestheprobabilitythattheyarepoliticals.”“Orthattheyareusingaliases.”“Perhaps.Now,theotherpersonnelatthevilla.Thereareahusband

andwifewholiveoverwhatwasthestabling.TheirnameisHamulandtheyareoldservantswhohavebeenthereforsomeyearsascaretakersandwhodocleaningwork.Thenthereisthecook.Throughtheowner’sagent,FischerrequestedacookwithexperienceofItaliancooking.Theagent foundaTurkishCypriotnamedGevenwhohadworked in Italy.Thepoliceherehavehad troublewithhim.He isagoodcook,buthegets drunk and attacks people. He served a short prison sentence forwoundingawaiter.ItisbelievedthattheagentdidnotknowthiswhenherecommendedthemantoFischer.”“Isthereanythingagainstthecouple?”“No.Theyarehonestenough.”Heputhispapersaway.“Thatisallwe

knowsofar,but,asyousee,theshapeofaconspiracybeginstounfold.Onepersongoesaheadtoestablishabaseofoperations,asecondpersonarrangesforthepurchaseofweapons,athirdarriveswiththemeansoftransportingthemandapreparedcoverstory.Probably,therealleaders

havenotyetarrived.When theydo, itwillbeyourduty to report thefact.Meanwhile,yourordersare,specifically,firsttoascertainwhethertheweapons have been removed from the car or not, and secondly, iftheyhavebeenremoved,wheretheyarecached.Thefirstwillbeeasy,thesecondmaybedifficult.”“Ifnotimpossible.”Heshrugged.“Well,youmustrunnorisksatthisstage.Thirdly,you

will continue to listen foranymentionofnames—namesofpersonsorplaces—and reportmovements. Finally, youwill listen particularly foranypoliticalcontentintheirconversation.Thesmallesthintmaybeofimportance in that connection. That is all, I think. Have you anyquestions?”“Dozens,”Isaid;“onlyIdon’tknowwhattheyareatthemoment.”Icouldseehehadn’tlikedthatatonce.Itwasabitcheeky,Isuppose;

butIwasreallytiredofhim.Hepursedhislipsatme.“TheDirectorisverypleasedwithyousofar,

Simpson,”he said. “Heeven spokeof thepossibilityofhelpingyou insomewaybeyondthewithdrawalofthechargesagainstyou,perhapsinconnection with your papers, if your co-operation brought about asuccessfuldisposalofthismatter.Itisyourchance.Whydon’tyoutakeit?”Thisboycoulddobetter.Heshouldbeencouragedtoadoptamorepositive

attitudetowardshisschoolwork.Athletics:Fair.Punctuality:Fair.Conduct:Has leftmuch tobedesired this term. Signed:G.D.Brush,M.A. (Oxon.),Headmaster.Ididmybest.“Whatdoyoumeanby‘politicalcontext’?”Iasked.“Do

youmean,aretheyinfavorofdemocraticideals?Oragainstamilitarydictatorship?—that’s what some people call your government, isn’t it?Do they talk about capitalist oppression or Soviet domination or thewelfareofmankind?Thingslikethat?Because,ifso,Icantellyounowthat theonly sectionofmankind thatHarper is interested in is thebitrepresentedbyhimself.”“Thatcouldbesaidofagreatmanypoliticalconspirators.Obviously,

whatweare concernedwith is their attitudes to thepolitical situationhere,wherethearmyactsatpresentasatrusteefortheRepublic.”Hesaidthatstiffly;hehadn’tlikedthebitaboutmilitarydictatorshipeither.“AsIhavesaid,Harpermaybemerelyahiredoperative,butwecannot

sayyet.Remember,therearesixpistolsandammunitionforsix.”“That’sanotherthingIdon’tunderstand,sir.Iknowthatthereareall

thosegrenades,too—butpistols?Isthatenoughforacoupd’état.Iftheyweremachinegunsnow…”“My dear Simpson, the head of a secret political organization in

Belgradeoncehandedoutfourpistolstofourratherstupidstudents.Inthe event, only one was used, but it was used to assassinate theArchdukeFerdinandofAustriaanditstartedaEuropeanwar.Pistolscanbecarriedinthepocket.Machinegunscannot.”“Youthinkthesepeopleareouttoassassinatesomebody?”“Thatisforyoutohelpusdiscover.Haveyouanymorequestions?”“Is there any information yet about this business-machine company,

Tekelek?Harperseemedtobeusingitasacover.”“WearestillawaitingwordfromSwitzerland.IfitisofinterestIwill

letyouknow.”Hehandedmetheportableradio;then,asIgotuptogo,hewentto

the door and gave an order to the lieutenant waiting outside abouttaking me back to the gate. I had started to move when he had anafterthoughtandstoppedme.“Onemorething,”hesaid,“Idonotwishyoutotakefoolishrisks,but

I dowishyou to feel confidence inyourself if youareobliged to takenecessaryones. Somemenhavemore confidence in themselves if theyarearmed.”Icouldn’thelpglancingat thepolishedpistolholsteronhisbelt.He

smiled thinly. “This pistol is part of an officer’s uniform. You mayborrowitifyouwish.Youcouldputitinyourbagwiththeradio.”I shookmy head. “No, thank you. It wouldn’tmakeme feel better.

Worse,morelikely. I’dbewonderinghowtoexplainitawayifanyonehappenedtoseeit.”“Youareprobablywise.Verywell,thatisall.”Ofcourse,Ihadn’ttheslightestintentionoftakinganysortofriskifI

couldhelpit.AllIintendedtodowastogothroughthemotionsofco-operatingsoas tokeepTufanhappy,andsomehowgetmy letterbackfromHarperbeforeTufan’speoplepulledhimin.Ofcourse,Iwasquitecertainthathewasgoingtobepulledin.Hehadtobe!Tufanstayedbehindtelephoning.As Iwentbackalongthecorridors

with the lieutenant, I saw him glancing at me, wondering if it were

better tomakepolite conversationwith someonewho seemedon suchgoodtermswiththepowerfulMajorTufan,ortosaynothingandkeephisnoseclean.Intheend,allhesaidwasacourteousgoodnight.ThePeugeotwas still outside.Thedriver glanced at the radio Iwascarrying.Iwonderedifheknewaboutthemodification,buthemadenocommentonit.Wedrovebacktothehotelinsilence.Ithankedhimandhenoddedamiably,pattingthewheelofhiscar.“Betteronthenarrowroads,”hesaid.Theterracewasclosed.Iwenttothebarforadrink.IhadtogetthetasteoftheDolmabahçeoutofmymouth.“Conspiracy,” Tufan had said. Well, that much I was prepared toconcede.ThewholeHarper-Lipp-Fischersetupwasobviouslyacoverforsomething; but all this cloak-and-dagger stuff about coups d’etat andassassinationplots I really couldn’t swallow.Even sitting in thepalacewith a painting about a Sultan being deposed staring down from thewall,ithadbotheredme.Sittinginahotelbarwithaglassofbrandy—well, frankly Ididn’tbelieveabloodywordof it.Thepointwas that Iknew the people concerned—or, anyway, I hadmet them—and Tufandidn’tknowandhadn’tmetanyofthem.“Politicalcontext,”forheaven’ssake!SuddenlyMajorTufanappearedinmymind’seyenotasamaninchargeofa firingsquad,butasamilitaryoldmaidalways looking forsecretagentsandassassinsunderherbed—a typical counter-espionagemaninfact.ForamomentortwoIalmostenjoyedmyself.ThenIrememberedthedoorsofthecarandthearmsandtherespiratorsandthegrenades,andwentbacktozero.If it hadn’t been for those things, I thought, I couldhavemade twogoodguessesabout theHarpersetup,andoneof themwouldcertainlyhavebeenright.Myfirstguesswouldhavebeennarcotics.Turkeyisanopium-producingcountry. Ifyouhad thenecessary technicalpersonnel—Fischer,the“manufacturer,”Lipp,the“student”—allyouwouldneedwouldbeaquiet,secludedplaceliketheKöskSardunyainwhichtosetupasmallprocessingplanttomakeheroin,andanorganizer—Harper,ofcourse—tohandledistributionandsales.Mysecondguesswouldhavebeensomede luxevariationof theoldbadgergame.ItbeginsintheromanticvillaontheBosphorusgracedbythebeautiful,blue-bloodedPrincessLipp,whosefamilyonceownedvast

estates in Rumania, her faithful servitor Andreas (Fischer), and amultimillionairesuckerenslavedbythelady’sbeauty.Then,justasthemillionaire is preparing to dip his wick, in comes the mad, bad,dangerous husband Prince (Harper) Lipp, who threatens to spread thewhole story (with pictures, no doubt) over the front pages of everynewspaperfromIstanbultoLosAngeles,unless…Themillionairecan’twaittopayupandgetout.Curtain.On thewhole, though, Iwouldhavemadenarcotics the first choice.NotthatIdidn’tseeHarperasaconman,orintheroleofblackmailer(Iknewalltoowellthathecouldplaythat),butthecostandextentofthepreparatorywork suggested that big profitswere expected. Unless thesupply of gullible millionaires had suddenly increased in the Istanbularea, it seemed more likely that the expectation was based on thepromiseofasuccessfulnarcoticsoperation.It seemed tome soobviously the right answer that Ibegan to thinkagain about the grenades and pistols. Supposing they did fit into thenarcotics picture after all; but in a subsidiary sort of way. Supposingthey had no direct relationshipwithHarper, but had been carried forsomeone outside the villa group—someone Turkish with politicalintentions of the kind in which Tufan was interested. The narcoticspicturehad to includea supplierof illicit rawopium.Almostcertainlythat supplier would be Turkish.Why shouldn’t the price for his illicitopiumhaveincludedasmallshipmentofillicitarms?Noreasonatall.Or thedeliveryof thearmsmightmerelyhavebeenoneof those littlegesturesofgoodwillwithwhichbusinessmensometimesliketosweetentheircontractualrelationships.“I’mbringingacarinanyway.Whynotletmetakecareofthatotherlittlematterforyou?JustgivemealettertoyourmaninAthens.”There was only one thing that I could see that was not quite rightaboutit—thetimefactor.Thevillahadbeentakenonashortlease.Thecarhadbeenimportedonatouristcarnet.Ididn’tknowhowlongittooktosetupalaboratoryandprocessenoughherointomakeakillinginthedopemarket; but, on the face of it, twomonths seemed a bit short. Idecided in the end that, for safety, they might well want to avoidremaining for too long in any one place and intended to keep thelaboratoryonthemove.IthinkIknew,secretly,thatitwasn’tahighlyconvincingexplanation;

but, at thatmoment, itwas thebest that I could thinkof, anduntil abetter one occurred tome Iwas prepared to be uncritical. I likedmyarms-for-opium theory.At least itheldoutapromiseof release.WhenTufanrealizedthat,asfarasthearmswereconcerned,Harperwasonlyanintermediary,hisinterestmustshiftfromthevillagrouptosomeonesomewhereelse.Myusefulnesswouldbeatanend.Harperwouldacceptmyresignationwitha shrug, returnmy letter,andpaymeoff.Tufan’sdelightedDirectorwouldhelpmeovermypapers.A fewhours later IwouldbebackinAthens,safeandsound.IrememberedthatIhadn’tyetwrittentoNicki.BeforeIwenttobed,Ibought a postcard from the concierge and wrote a few lines. Still onLincoln job. Money good. Should last a few more days. Home mid-weeklatest.Begood.Love,Papa.I didn’t put the villa address, because that would have made hercurious. I didn’twant tohave to answer a lot of questionswhen I gotback.EvenwhenI’vehadagoodtime,Idon’tlikehavingtotalkaboutit.Goodor bad,what’s over’s donewith.Anyway, therewas nopointreallyingivinganaddress.Iknewshewouldn’twritebacktome.The followingmorning Iwent out early, bought a dozen packets ofcigarettes,andthenlookedforashopwhichsoldtools.IfIweretomakesurethatthestuffhadbeenremovedfromthecardoors,Iwouldhavetolook insideat leastoneof them.Theonly troublewas that the screwswhichfastenedtheleatherpanelshadPhillipsheads.IfItriedtouseanordinaryscrewdriveronthem,therewouldbeariskofmakingmarksorpossiblyscratchingtheleather.I couldnot finda tool shop, so, in theend, Iwent to thegarageoffTaximSquare,wheretheyknewme,andpersuadedthemechanicthereto sellmeaPhillips.Then Iwentback to thehotel, paidmybill, andtookataxitotheferrypier.TherewasnosignofthePeugeotfollowing.AferryboatcameinalmostimmediatelyandIknewthatIwasgoingtobeearlyatSariyer.Infact,Iwastwentyminutesearly,soIwasallthemore surprised to see the Lincoln coming along the road as the boatedgedintothepier.MissLippwasdriving.

6

As Icameoff thepier, shegotoutof thecar.Shewaswearinga lightyellowcottondressthatdidevenlesstoobscuretheshapeofherbodythantheslacksandshirt Ihadseenher inthedaybefore.Shehadthekeysofthecarinherhand,and,asIcameup,shehandedthemtomewithafriendlysmile.“Goodmorning,Arthur.”“Goodmorning,madam.It’sgoodofyoutomeetme.”“Iwant to do some sightseeing.Why don’t you put your bag in the

trunkfornow,thenwewon’thavetostopoffatthevilla.”“Whateveryousay,madam.”Iputmybagdownandwenttoholdthe

reardooropenforher,butshewasalreadywalkingroundtothefrontpassengerseat,soIhadtoscuttleroundtogettothatdooraheadofher.When she was installed, I hurriedly put my bag in the luggage

compartmentandgotintothedriver’sseat.Iwassweatingslightly,notonlybecauseitwasawarmdaybutalsobecauseIwasflustered.IhadexpectedFischertomeetmewiththecar;Ihadexpectedtogostraightto the villa, to be toldwhere Iwould sleep, to be given amoment toorientmyself,achancetothinkandtimetoplan.Instead,Iwasonmyown with Miss Lipp, sitting where she had been sitting until a fewmomentsago,andsmellingthescentsheused.MyhandshookalittleasIputtheignitionkeyin,andIfeltIhadtosaysomethingtocovermynerves.“Isn’tMr.Harperjoiningyou,madam?”“He had some business to attend to.” She was lighting a cigarette.

“Andby theway,Arthur,” shewenton, “don’t callmemadam. If youhavetocallmesomething,thename’sLipp.Now,tellmewhatyouhaveonthetourmenu.”“IsthisyourfirsttimeinTurkey,MissLipp?”“First ina longtime.All Irememberfrombeforeismosques. Idon’t

thinkIwanttoseeanymoremosques.”“ButyouwouldliketobeginwithIstanbul?”“Ohyes.”“DidyouseetheSeraglio?”“IsthattheoldpalacewheretheSultans’haremusedtobe?”“That’s it.” I smiled inwardly.When I had been a guide in Istanbulbefore,ithadbeenthesame.Everywomantouristwasalwaysinterestedintheharem.MissLipp,Ithoughttomyself,wasnodifferent.“Allright,”shesaid,“let’sgoseetheSeraglio.”Iwasregainingmycomposurenow.“IfImaymakeasuggestion.”“Goahead.”“TheSeraglio isorganizedasamuseumnow.Ifwegostraight therewe shall arrive before it opens. I suggest that I drive you first to thefamousPierreLoticafé,whichishighuponahilljustoutsidethecity.There,youcouldhavealightlunchinpleasantsurroundingsandIcouldtakeyoutotheSeraglioafterwards.”“Whattimewouldwegetthere?”“Wecanbetheresoonafteroneo’clock.”“Okay,butIdon’twanttobelater.”Thatstruckmeasratherodd,butIpaidnoattention.Youdogettheoccasionaltouristwhowantstodoeverythingbytheclock.Shejusthadnotimpressedmeasbeingofthattype.I started up and drove back along the coast road. I looked for thePeugeot,butitwasn’ttherethatday.Instead,therewasagrayOpelwiththreemeninit.WhenwegottotheoldcastleatRumelihisari,Istoppedand told her about the blockade of Constantinople by SultanMehmetFatihin1453,andhowhehadstretchedagreatchainboomacrosstheBosphorustheretocutoffthecity.Ididn’ttellherthatitwaspossibletogoup to themain keepof the castle because I didn’twant to exhaustmyselfclimbingupall thosepathsandstairs;butshedidn’t seemveryinterestedanyway,so,intheend,Icutthepattershortandpushedon.After a while, it became pretty obvious that she wasn’t really muchinterested inanything in thewayofordinary sightseeing.At least thatwashowitseemedatthetime.Idon’tthinkshewasbored,butwhenIpointedplacesouttoher,sheonlynodded.Sheaskednoquestions.Itwasdifferentatthecafé.Shemademesitwithheratatableoutsideunderatreeandorderrakiforusboth;thenshebeganaskingquestions

by the dozen; not about Pierre Loti, the Turkophile Frenchman, butabouttheSeraglio.Ididmybesttoexplain.Tomostpeople,theword“palace”meansasingle verybigbuildingplanned tohouse amonarch.Of course, thereareusuallyafewsmallerbuildingsaroundit,butthebigbuildingisThePalace.Althoughtheword“Seraglio”reallymeans“palace,”itisn’tatalllike one. It is an oval-shaped walled area over two miles incircumference, standing on top of the hill above Seraglio Point at theentrancetotheBosphorus;anditisacitywithinacity.Originally,oratleastfromthetimeofSuleimantheMagnificentuntilthemid-nineteenthcentury,thewholecentralgovernment,ministersandhighcivilservantsaswell as the Sultan of the time, lived andworked in it. TherewerehouseholdtroopsandacadetschoolaswellastheSultan’shareminsidethewalls. The populationwas generally over five thousand, and therewasalwaysnewbuildinggoingon.Onereasonforthiswasacustomofthe Ottomans. When a new Sultan came to the throne, he naturallyinheritedallthewealthandpropertyaccumulatedbyhisfather;buthecould not take the personalized property for his own personal usewithout losing face. Consequently, all the old regalia had to be storedawayandnewpiecesmade,anewsummerpalacehadtobebuiltand,ofcourse,newprivateapartmentsinsidetheSeraglio,andanewmosque.AsIsay,thiswentonwell intothenineteenthcentury.SotheSeragliotoday is a vast rabbit warren of reception rooms, private apartments,pavilions,mosques, libraries, gateways, armories, barracks, and so on,interspersed by a few open courtyards and gardens. There are no bigbuildingsinthe“palace”sense.Thetwobiggestsinglestructureshappentobethekitchensandthestables.Although the guidebooks try to explain all this, most tourists don’tseem to understand it. They think “Seraglio” means “harem” anywayandalltheyareinterestedinapartfromthatisthe“GoldenRoad,”thepassage that the chosengirlswent along toget from theharem to theSultan’sbed.Theharemareaisn’topentothepublicasamatteroffact;but Ialwaysusedto take the tourists IhadthroughtheMustafaPashapavilionatthebackandtellthemthatthatwaspartoftheharem.Theynever knew the difference, and it was something they could tell theirfriends.MissLippsoongottheidea,though.Ifoundthatsheknewsomething

about Turkish history; for instance,who the Janissaries had been. Forsomeonewho,onlyanhourorsoearlier,hadbeenaskingiftheSeragliowastheoldpalace,thatwasalittlesurprising.Atthetime,Isuppose,Iwas too busy trying to answer her other questions to pay muchattention. I had shown her the guidebook plan and she was goingthroughallthebuildingsmarkedonit.“TheWhiteEunuchs’quartersalonghere,aretheyopen?”“OnlytheseroomsneartheGateofFelicityinthemiddle.”“TheBathsofSelimtheSecond,canweseethem?”“That is part of themuseumnow.There is a collection of glass and

silverwarethere,Ithink.”“WhatabouttheHallofthePantry?”“Ithinkthatbuildinghastheadministrationofficesinitnow.”SomeofthequestionsIcouldn’tansweratall,evenvaguely,butshe

stillkepton.Finally,shebrokeoff,swallowedhersecondrakiatagulp,andlookedacrossatme.“Areyouhungry,Arthur?”“Hungry?No,MissLipp,notparticularly.”“Whydon’twegotothepalacerightnowthen?”“Certainly,ifyouwish.”“Okay.Youtakecareofthecheckhere.We’llsettlelater.”Isawtheeyesofoneortwomensittinginthecaféfollowherasshe

wentbacktothecar,andInoticedthemglancingatmeasIpaidforthedrinks. Obviously they were wondering what the relationship was—father,uncle,orwhat? Itwasoddlyembarrassing.The troublewas,ofcourse,thatIdidn’tknowwhattomakeofMissLippandcouldn’tdecidewhat sortof attitude toadopt towardsher.Toadd to the confusion, aremarkHarperhadmadeattheClubinAthens,aboutNicki’slegsbeingtooshort,keptcomingintomymind.MissLipp’slegswereparticularlylong, and, for some reason, that was irritating as well as exciting;exciting because I couldn’t help wondering what difference long legswouldmake inbed; irritatingbecause I knewdamnwell that Iwasn’tgoingtobegiventhechancetofindout.I drove her to the Seraglio and parked in what used to be the

Courtyard of the Janissaries, just outside the Ortakapi Gate by theexecutioner’s block. As it was so early, there were only two or threeothercarsbesidestheLincoln.IwasgladofthatbecauseIwasableto

get off my piece about the gate without being overheard by officialguideswithotherparties.ThelastthingIwantedatthatmomentwastohavemyguide’slicenseaskedforandchallenged.TheOrtakapiGateisagoodintroductiontothe“feel”oftheSeraglio.“It was here at this gate that the Sultans used to stand to watch theweeklyexecutions.TheSultanstoodjustthere.Youseetheblockwherethebeheadingwasdone.Now,see that little fountainbuilt in thewallthere?Thatwasfortheexecutionertowashthebloodoffhimselfwhenhehad finished.Hewasalso theChiefGardener.By theway, thiswasknown as the Gate of Salvation. Rather ironic, don’t you think? Ofcourse,onlyhighpalacedignitarieswhohadoffended theSultanwerebeheaded here. When princes of the royal house were executed—forinstance,whenanewSultanhadall his youngerbrothers killedoff topreventargumentsaboutthesuccession—theirbloodcouldnotbeshed,sotheywerestrangledwithasilkcord.Womenwhohadoffendedweretreated in a different way. They were tied up in weighted sacks anddroppedintotheBosphorus.Shallwegoinsidenow?”UntilMissLipp,Ihadneverknownittofail.Shegavemeablankstare.“Isanyofthattrue,Arthur?”“Everywordofit.”Itistrue,too.“Howdoyouknow?”“Thosearehistoricfacts,MissLipp.”Ihadanothergo.“Infact,oneoftheSultansgotboredwithhiswholeharemandhad themalldumpedintotheBosphorus.TherewasashipwreckoffSeraglioPointsoonafter,and a diver was sent down.What he saw there almost scared him todeath. There were all those weighted sacks standing in a row on thebottomandswayingtoandfrowiththecurrent.”“WhichSultan?”Naturally,Ithoughtitwassafetoguess.“ItwasMuradtheSecond.”“ItwasSultanIbrahim,”shesaid.“Nooffense,Arthur,butIthinkwe’dbetterhireaguide.”“Whateveryousay,MissLipp.”I tried to look as if I thought it a good idea, but Iwas really quiteangry.IfshehadaskedmerightoutwhetherIwasahistoricalexpertontheSeraglio,Iwouldhavetoldher,quitefrankly,thatIwasnot.ItwastheunderhandwayinwhichshehadsetouttotrapmethatIdidn’tlike.Wewentthroughthegate,andIpaidforouradmissionsandselected

anEnglish-speakingguide.Hewassolemnandpedantic,ofcourse,andtoldherallthethingsIhadalreadyexplainedalloveragain;butshedidnotseemtomind.Fromthewayshebombardedhimwithquestionsyouwouldhavethoughtshewasgoingtowriteabookabouttheplace.Ofcourse,thatflatteredhim.Hehadagrinlikeanape.Personally, I find the Seraglio rather depressing. In Greece, the old

buildings,evenwhentheyareinruinsandnothingmuchhasbeendonein the way of restoration, always seem to have a clean, washed lookabout them. The Seraglio is stained, greasy, and dilapidated. Even thetreesandshrubsinthemaincourtyardsareneglected,andtheso-calledTulipGardenisnothingbutascrubbypatchofdirt.AsfarasMissLippwasconcernedthough,theplacemighthavebeen

Versailles. She went everywhere, through the kitchens, through themuseum rooms, the exhibition of saddles, this kiosk, that pavilion,laughing at the guide’s standard jokes and scuffing her shoes on thebrokenpavingstones.IfIhadknownwhatwasgoingoninhermind,ofcourse,Iwouldhavefeltdifferently;butasitwas,Ibecamebored.Afterabit,Igaveupfollowingthemeverywhereandjusttooktheshortcuts.Iwaslookingforwardtoasit-downbytheGateoftheFountainwhile

they“did”thetextilesexhibition,whenshecalledmeover.“Arthur,howlongwillittakeustogettotheairportfromhere?”IwassosurprisedthatImusthavelookedatherabitblankly.“The

airport?”She put on a slight heaven-give-me-patience look. “Yes, Arthur, the

airport.Wheretheplanesarrive.Howlongfromhere?”Theguide,whohadn’tbeenasked,said:“Fortyminutes,madame.”“Betterallowforty-five,MissLipp,”Isaid,ignoringhim.Shelookedatherwatch.“Theplanegetsinatfour,”shesaid.“Itell

youwhat,Arthur.Yougogetyourselfasandwichorsomething.I’llmeetyouwhereyouparkedthecarinanhour.Right?”“Asyouwish,MissLipp.Arewemeetingsomeoneattheairport?”“Ifthat’sallrightwithyou.”Hertonewascurt.“IonlymeantthatifIknewthelineandflightnumberIcouldcheckif

theplaneisgoingtobeontime.”“So you could, Arthur. I didn’t think of that. It’s Air France from

Geneva.”Iwasinthesunshineofhersmileagain,thebitch.

TherewasarestaurantofsortsneartheBlueMosque,andwhenIhadorderedsomefoodItelephonedTufan.HelistenedtomyreportwithoutcommentuntilIhadfinished.“Very

well,” he said then, “I will see that the passports of the Genevapassengersareparticularlynoted.Isthatall?”“No.”Istartedtotellhimmytheoryaboutthedrugoperationandits

necessary linkwitharaw-opiumsupplier,butalmostatoncehebeganinterrupting.“Haveyounewfactstosupportthis?”“Itfitstheinformationwehave.”“Anyimbecilecouldthinkofwaysofinterpretingtheinformationwe

have.ItistheinformationwedonothavethatIaminterestedin.Yourbusinessistogetit,andthatisallyoushouldbethinkingabout.”“Nevertheless…”“Youarewastingtime.Reportbytelephone,orasotherwisearranged,

and remember your listening times. Now, if that is all, I havearrangementstomake.”Themilitarymindatwork!Whetherhewasrightorwrong(and,asit

happens,hewasbothrightandwrong)madenodifference. Itwas thearroganceofthemanIcouldn’tstand.Iateadisgustingmealoflukewarmmuttonstewandwentbacktothe

car.Iwasangrywithmyself,too.Ihavetoadmit it;whathadreallyexasperatedmewasnotsomuch

Tufan’sanxiety-bredoffensivenessasmyownrealization that the trainof thought which had seemed so logical and reasonable the previousnight, was not looking as logical and reasonable in the morning. Myconception of the “student” Miss Lipp as a laboratory technician wastroublesome enough; but speaking againwithTufanhad remindedmethat the villa, which I had so blithely endowed with a clandestineheroin-manufacturingplant,alsohousedaelderlymarriedcoupleandacook.Sothat,inadditiontothetime-factorimprobability,Inowhadtoaccept another: either the plant was to be so small that the servantswouldnotnoticeitorHarpercountedonbuyingtheirdiscretion.Then, in sheer desperation, I did something rather silly. I felt that I

hadtoknowifthegrenadesandpistolswerestillinthecar.Iftheyhadbeen taken out, at least one bit of my theory was still just tenable. Icouldassumethattheyhadbeendeliveredorwereinprocessofdelivery

tothepersonwhowantedthem.IhadabouttwentyminutestosparebeforeMissLippcameoutoftheSeraglio;butincaseshewasearlyIdrovethecartotheotherendofthecourtyardundersometreesoppositetheChurchofSt.Irene.ThenIgotthePhillipsscrewdriveroutofmybagandwenttoworkonthedoorbythedriver’sseat.Iwasn’tworriedaboutanyoneseeingme.Afterall,IwasonlycarryingoutTufan’sorders.ThemenintheOpelwouldn’tinterfere;andifsomecabdriverbecameinquisitive,IcouldalwayspretendthatIwashavingtroublewithadoorlock.Allthatmatteredwasthetime,becauseIhadtodoitcarefullytoavoidmakingmarks.I loosened all the screws carefully first, and then began to removethem.Itseemedtotakeanage.Andthenahorriblethinghappened.JustasIwastakingoutthelastscrewbutone,Ihappenedtoglanceupandsaw Miss Lipp with the guide walking across the courtyard from thealleywayleadingtotheArchaeologicalMuseum.I knew at once that she had seen the car because she was walkingstraighttowardsit.Shewasabouttwohundredyardsaway,andontheoppositesideofthecartothedoorIhadbeenworkingon,butIknewthatIcouldn’tgetevenoneofthescrewsbackintime.Besides,Iwasnotintheplaceshehadtoldmetobe.TherewasonlyonethingIcoulddo:stuff the screws and screwdriver into my pocket, start the car, drivearoundthecourtyardtomeether,andhopetoGodthetwoloosescrewswouldholdthepanelinplacewhenIopenedthedoortogetout.Ihadonepieceofluck.Theguidepracticallyfelloverhimselfopeningherdoorforher,soIdidn’thavetoopentheoneonmyside.Iwasabletogetmyapologyinatthesametime.“I’msosorry,MissLipp.IthoughtyoumightbevisitingtheSt.IreneChurchandIwantedtosaveyouthewalkback.”Thatgotbyallrightbecauseshecouldn’tthanktheguideandanswerme at the same time. The guide was an unexpected help, too, as heimmediately asked her if she would like to see the church, “pureByzantine, built in the reign of Justinian, and of great historicalinterest.”“I’llleavethatforanothertime,”shesaid.“Butyouwillbeheretomorrow,madame,whentheTreasuryMuseumisonview?”

“Well,maybe.”“Otherwise,itmustbeThursday,madame.Thatpartandthepicturesare on viewonly twodays in theweek,when all the other rooms areclosed.” Hewas obviously panting for her to come again. I wonderedhowmuchshehadtippedhim.“I’ll tryandmake it tomorrow.Thankyouagain.”Shegavehim thesmile.Tome,shesaid:“Let’sgo.”I droveoff.As soonaswegot onto the cobbles thepanel started tovibrate. I immediately pressed my knee against it and the vibrationstopped;butIwasreallyscarednow.Ididn’tthinkthatshewouldnoticethat the screws were out; but Fischer or Harper certainly would; andthere was this unknown we were going to meet. I knew that I hadsomehowtoreplacethescrewswhilethecarwasattheairport.“Istheplaneontime?”sheasked.Adonkeycartcamerattlingoutofasidestreetatthatmoment,andImadeabigthingofbrakingandswervingoutofitsway.Ididn’thavetopretendthat thecarthadshakenmeup. Iwasshakenupall right.MycalltoTufanandtheargumentwithhimhadmademeforgetcompletelyaboutcallingtheairline.IdidthebestIcould.“Theydidn’tknowofanydelay,”Isaid;“buttheplanewasmakinganintermediatestop.Wouldyoulikemetocheckagain?”“No,it’snotworthitnow.”“DidyouenjoytheSeraglio,MissLipp?”IthoughtifIkepttalkingitmightquietenmystomachdownabit.“Itwasinteresting.”“TheTreasury isworth seeing, too.Everything theSultansusedwascoveredwith jewels. Of course, a greatmany of the thingswere giftsfromkingsandemperorswhowantedtoimpresstheSultanswiththeirgreatness.EvenQueenVictoriasentthings.”“Iknow.”Shechuckled.“Clocksandcutglass.”“But some of the things are really incredible, Miss Lipp. There arecoffeecupssculpturedoutofsolidamethyst,and,youknow,thelargestemeraldintheworldisthereonthecanopyofoneofthethrones.Theyeven didmosaic workwith rubies and emeralds instead ofmarble.” Iwentontotellheraboutthegem-encrustedbaldrics.Igaveherthefulltreatment. In my experience every normal woman likes talking aboutjewels.Butshedidn’tseemmuchinterested.

“Well,”shesaid,“theycan’tbeworthmuch.”“Allthosehundredsandthousandsofjewels,MissLipp!”Mylegwas

getting stiff trying to stop the panel from vibrating. I wriggledsurreptitiouslyintoanewposition.Sheshrugged.“Theguidetoldmethat thereasontheyhavetoclose

some rooms on the days they open up the others is because they’reunderstaffed.Thereasonthey’reunderstaffedisbecausethegovernmenthasn’tthemoneytospend.That’swhytheplaceissoshabby,too.Prettywellallofthemoneytheyhaveforrestorationgoesintotheolder,theByzantinebuildings.Besides,ifallthosestoneswererealgemsthey’dbeinastrong-roomnotamuseum.Youknow,Arthur,quitealotoftheseoldbaublesturnoutintheendtobejustobsidiangarnet.”“Oh,thesearerealgems,MissLipp.”“What’sthebiggestemeraldintheworldlooklike,Arthur?”“Well,it’spear-shaped,andaboutthesizeofapear,too.”“Smoothorcut?”“Smooth.”“Couldn’titbegreentourmaline?”“Well,IsupposeIdon’tknowreally,MissLipp.I’mnotanexpert.”“Doyoucarewhichitis?”Iwasgettingboredwiththis.“Notmuch,MissLipp,”Ianswered.“It

justmakesamoreinterestingstoryifit’sanemerald.”Shesmiled.“Itmakesamoreamusingstoryifit’snot.Haveyouever

beentothemysteriousEast?”“No,MissLipp.”“But you’ve seen pictures. Do you know what makes those tall

pagodasglittersobeautifullyinthemoonlight?”“No,MissLipp.”“They’re covered with little pieces of broken bottle glass. And the

famousemeraldBuddhainBangkokisn’temeraldatall,it’scarvedfromablockofordinarygreenjasper.”“Little-knownfacts,”Ithought.“Whydon’tyousenditintoReader’s

Digest?”Ididn’tsayitthough.ShetookacigarettefromthegoldcaseinherbagandIfumbledinmy

pocketformatches;butshehadagoldlighter,too,anddidn’tnoticethematchesIheldouttoher.“Haveyoualwaysdonethissortofwork?”sheaskedsuddenly.

“Driving?No,MissLipp.MostofmylifeIhavebeenajournalist.Thatwas in Egypt. When the Nasser crowd took over, things becameimpossible.Itwasamatterofstartingagain.”Simple,straightforward—amanwhohas suffered the slingsandarrowsofoutrageous fortunebutwasn’tlookingforanyone’sshouldertoweepon.“Iwas thinking about the traveler’s checks,” she said. “Is thatwhat

youmeantby‘startingagain’?”“I’msorryMr.Harperhadtotellyouaboutthat.”Itwasnosurprise,

ofcourse,thatHarperhadtoldher;butwithsomanyotherthingsonmymind—driving, keeping the door panel from rattling, cramp inmy legand wondering how the hell I was going to replace the screws—all Icouldthinkofwasthatobviousreply.“Didyouthinkhewouldn’ttellme?”shewenton.“Ididn’tthinkaboutiteitherway,MissLipp.”“Butsincehedidtellmeandsinceyou’redrivingthiscar,thatmust

meanthatIdon’tmindtoomuchaboutthingslikethat,mustn’tit?”Forone idioticmoment Iwondered if sheweremakingsomesortof

passatme;butitwasabriefmoment.“Isupposeso,”Ianswered.“AndthatMr.Harperdoesn’tmindeither?”“Yes.”“Andthat,infact,we’reallverysensible,tolerantpersons?”Icouldn’thelpglancingather.Shewaswatchingmeinheramused,

consideringway,buttherewasnothingsleepyabouthereyesnow.Theyweresteadilyintent.And then I got themessage. Iwasbeing sounded, either todiscover

whatIhadmadeofthesetupandiftheyhadleftanyshirt-tailsshowing,ortofindout if Icouldbetrustedinsomeparticularway.Iknewthathow I answered would be very important indeed to me; but I didn’tknowwhat to say. Itwasnousepretending tobe stupidanymore,ortryingtoavoidtheissue.Atestwasbeingapplied.IfIfailedit,Iwasout—outwithHarper,outwithTufanandhisDirector,outwiththeTurkishcustoms,and,inallprobability,outwiththeGreekpoliceaswell.I felt my face getting red and knew that she would notice. That

decidedme.Peopleget redwhen they feel guiltyornervous;but theyalsogetredwhentheyareangry.Inordernottoseemnervousorguilty,allIcoulddowastoseemangry.

“IncludingMr.Fischer?”Iasked.“WhataboutMr.Fischer?”“Ishesensible,too,MissLipp?”“Doesthatmatter?”Iglancedatheragain.“Ifmypersonalsafety—safetyfromsomesort

of bad luck, let us say—depended on Fischer’s being sensible, I’d bequiteworried.”“Becauseheupsetadrinkoveryou?”“Ah,hetoldyouthat,didhe?No,thatwasonlystupid.I’dbeworried

becausehewascareless,becausehegavehimselfaway.”“Onlyhimself?”Therewasquiteanedgetohervoicenow.Iknewthat

Ihadgonefarenough.“What else is there to give away, Miss Lipp?” I am wary but not

treacherous,MissLipp.Iwatchmyowninterests,MissLipp,butIknowhowtobediscreet,too,nomatterhowphonythesetuplooks.“Whatindeed?”shesaidshortly.She saidnomore.The testwas over. I didnot knowwhether I had

passed or not; but therewas nothingmore that I could do, and Iwasgladoftherelief.IhopedshewouldnotnoticethatIwassweating.Wearrivedat theairport tenminutesbefore theplanewasdue.She

gotoutandwentintothearrivalssection,leavingmetofindaplacetopark.IquicklydidthetwoloosescrewsupbeforeIwenttojoinher.ShewasattheAirFrancecounter.“Fifteenminutestowait,”shesaid.“And at least another fifteen before they get through customs,” I

remindedher.“MissLipp,youhavehadnolunch.Thecaféhereisquiteclean.Whynotwait thereandhavesomecakesand tea? Iwillkeepacheck on the plane and arrange for a porter to be ready. When thepassengersareincustomsIwillletyouknow.”Shehesitated,then,tomyrelief,nodded.“Allright,youdothat.”“MayIaskwhoitisthatwearemeeting?”“Mr.Miller.”“Iwilltakecareofeverything.”Ishowedherwherethecaféwas,hungaroundlongenoughtomake

surethatshewasgoingtostaythere,andthenhurriedbacktothecar.Iwassweatingsomuchbythistimethatmyfingerskeptslippingon

thescrewdriver.Infact,IdidwhatIhadbeentryinghardtoavoiddoing

andscratchedtheleather;butitcouldn’tbehelped.Irubbedsomespitontheplaceandhopedforthebest.TheOpelwasparkedaboutadozenyardsawayand Icould see themen in itwatchingme.TheyprobablythoughtI’dgonemad.When the last screwwas inplace, I put the screwdriver back inmy

bagandwentinsideagaintotheAirFrancecounter.Theplanewasjustlanding. I found a porter, gave him five lira, and told him aboutMr.Miller. Then I went to themen’s room and tried to stopmyself fromsweating by running cold water over my wrists. It helped a little. Icleanedmyselfupandwentbacktothecafé.“Thepassengersarebeginningtocomethroughnow,MissLipp.”Shepickedupherbag.“Takecareofthecheckwillyou,Arthur?”It tookmeaminuteor twotoget thewaiter’sattention,so Imissed

themeetingbetweenMissLippandMr.Miller.TheywerealreadyonthewayouttothecarwhenIsawthem.Theporterwascarryingtwopiecesofluggage,onesuitcaseandonesmallerbag.Iwentaheadandgottheluggagecompartmentopen.Mr. Miller was about sixty with a long neck and nose, lined gray

cheeks,andabaldheadwithbrownblotchesontheskin.Thebacksofhishandshadblotches,too.Hewasverythinandhislighttussoresuitflappedashewalkedasifithadbeenmadeforsomeonewithmorefleshtocover.Hehadrimlessglasses,palelips,atoothysmile,andthatfixedstareaheadwhich says: “You’llhave togetoutofmyway, I’mafraid,becauseIhaven’tthetimetogetoutofyours.”As theycameup to thecarMissLipp said: “This isArthurSimpson,

who’sdrivingforus,Leo.”Before I could even say “good afternoon” he had handed me the

raincoathehadbeencarryingoverhisarm.“Good,good,”hesaid,andclimbed into thebackseat.Shesmiledslightlyas shegot inafterhim,thoughnotatme,toherself.Thecoatsmelledof lavenderwater. Iput itwiththeluggage,tipped

theporteragain,andgotintothedriver’sseat.“Tothevilla,MissLipp?”Iasked.“Yes,Arthur.”“Waitaminute.”ItwasMiller.“Whereismycoat?”“Withyourluggage,sir.”“Itwillgetdirtyinthere.Itshouldbeonaseatinhere.”

“Yes,sir.”Igotoutagainandretrievedthecoat.“Whatafussyoumake,Leo,”Iheardhersay.“Thecar’squiteclean.”“Thebaggageinthereisnotclean.Ithasbeeninthebellyofaplane

with other baggage. It has been on the floor and table of the customsplace.Ithasbeenhandledbythemanwhosearchedit,handledagainbythe porter. Nothing is clean.” His accent had no American inflections,andhecouldn’tpronouncehisth’s.IthoughthemightbeFrench.Idrapedthecoatoverthebackoftheseatinfrontofhim.“Willthat

beallright,sir?”“Yes,ofcourse,”hesaidimpatiently.That type is always the same. They make the difficulties and then

behaveasifyou’retheonewho’sbeingthenuisance.“Let’s go, Arthur,” said Miss Lipp. Her tone was noncommittal. I

couldn’ttellwhethershefoundhimtiresomeornot.Iwatchedtheminthedrivingmirror.Assoonaswewereclearoftheairport,hesettledbackandlookedher

overinafatherlyway.“Well,mydear,you’relookinghealthy.HowareKarlandGiulio?”“Karl’s fine.Giuliowehaven’tseenyet.He’swiththeboat.Karlwas

thinkingofgoingovertheretomorrow.”“Haveyouanythingplannedforthen?”“We thoughtyoumight like todoa little sightseeing.That isunless

you’retired.”“You are more considerate than a daughter, my dear.” The teeth

leered at her and the pale eyes behind the rimless glasses flickeredtowardsmyback.I had already realized that thiswas a conversation conducted solely

for my benefit, but now I saw her face stiffen. She knew that I waslisteninghardandwasafraidthathewasoverdoingit.“YoumustpersuadeArthurtoshowyouaroundtheSeraglioPalace,”

shesaid.“Heisquiteanauthorityonit.Isn’tthatright,Arthur?”Thatwas as good as tellingme that the old foolwould believe any

cock-and-bull story I cared to tell him.On the other hand, itmust betellinghimsomething,too;perhapswarninghimthatthedriverwasn’tsuchafoolashelooked.Ihadtobecareful.“IwouldbehappytoshowMr.Millerwhatthereistosee,”Isaid.

“Well,wemustcertainlythinkaboutthat,”hereplied;“certainly,wemustthinkaboutit.”Heglancedathertoseeifhehadsaidtherightthing.Asentenceofmyfather’scameintomymind.“Onemomentthey’reallfullofpissandwindandthenextmoment…”Atthatpointhewouldmakearaspberrysoundwithhistongue.Vulgar,ofcourse,buttherewasneveranydoubtaboutthekindofmanhemeant.Mr.Millerkeptquietafterthat.Onceortwiceshepointedoutplacesof interest, in themannerofahostesswithanewlyarrivedguest;buttheonlythingheaskedaboutwasthetapwateratthevilla.Wasitsafetodrinkorwastherebottledwateravailable?Therewasbottledwater,she toldhim.Henodded,as if thathadconfirmedhisworst fears,andsaid that he had brought plenty of Entero Vioform for intestinalprophylaxis.Wereachedthevillaalittleafterfive.MissLipptoldmetosoundthehornasIwentupthedrive.ThereceptioncommitteeconsistedofHarperandFischer.Hoveringinthe background, ready to carry luggage, was an old man wearing anapronwhomItooktobeHamul,theresidentcaretaker.TufanhadsaidthatFischerwasthelesseeofthevillabuttherewasnodoubt who was the real host there. All Fischer received from theincomingguestwasanodofrecognition.Harpergotasmileandan“Ah,mydearKarl.”Theyshookhandswithbusinesslikecordiality,andthenHarper,Miller, andMiss Lippwent straight into thehouse. To FischerwereleftthemenialtasksoftellingHamulwhereMiller’sbagsweretogo,andofshowingmewheretoputthecarandwhereIwastosleep.At the back of the villa therewas awalled stable yard. Part of thestablinghadbeenconvertedintoagaragewithroomfortwocars.ItwasemptyexceptforaLambrettamotorscooter.“TheLambrettabelongs to thecook,”Fischer said; “see thathedoesnotstealgasolinefromthecar.”Ifollowedhimacrosstheyardtotherearentranceofthehouse.Inside,Ihadabriefglimpseofthepolishedwoodflooringofapassagebeyond the small tiled hallway, before he led the way up a narrowstaircasetothetopfloor.Alltooobviouslywewereintheoldservants’quarters.Thereweresixsmallatticcubicleswithbarewoodfloors,barewoodpartitionwalls, anda single skylight in the roof for all of them.

The sanitary arrangements consisted of an earthenware sink with awatertaponthewallattheheadofthestairs.Itwasstiflinglyhotunderthelowroofandthereweredustandcobwebseverywhere.Twoofthecubiclesshowedsignsofhavingbeensweptoutrecently.Eachcontainedanironbedsteadwithamattressandgrayblankets.Inone,therewasabatteredcomposition-leathersuitcase.Fischershowedmetotheother.“Youwillsleephere,”hesaid.“Thechefhasthenextbed.Youwilleatyourmealswithhiminthekitchen.”“Whereisthetoilet?”“Thereisapissoiracrosstheyardinthestables.”“Andthebathroom?”Hewavedhishand towards the sink.Hewaswatchingmy faceandenjoyinghimselfjustabittooobviously.Iguessedthatthishadbeenhisown wonderful idea of a punishment for the crime of calling him aservant,andthatHarperprobablydidnotknowofit.Inanycase,Ihadtoprotest.Withoutsomeprivacy,especiallyatnight,Icouldneitherusetheradionorwritereports.Ihadputmybagdownonthefloortorestmyarm.NowIpickeditupandstartedtowalkbackthewaywehadcome.“Whereareyougoing?”“TotellMr.HarperthatI’mnotsleepinghere.”“Whynot?Ifitisgoodenoughforthechefitisgoodenoughforyou,adriver.”“It will not be good enough for Miss Lipp if I smell because I amunabletotakeabath.”“Whatdidyouexpect—theroyalapartment?”“I can still find a hotel room in Sariyer. Or you can get anotherdriver.”I felt fairly safe in saying that. If he were to call my bluff I couldalwaysbackdown;butIthoughtitmorelikelythatIhadalreadycalledhis.Theveryfactthathewasarguingwithmesuggestedweakness.Heglaredatmeforamoment,thenwalkedtothestairs.“Put the car away,” he said. “It will be decided laterwhat is to bedonewithyou.”Ifollowedhimdownthestairs.Atthefootofthem,heturnedoffleftinto thehouse. Iwentout to theyard, leftmybag in thegarage, andwalkedbacktothecar.WhenIhadputitaway,Iwentintothehouse

andsetaboutfindingthekitchen.Itwasn’tdifficult.ThepassagewhichIhadglimpsedfromthebackentranceranalongthewholelengthofthehouse,witha servants’ stairway leading to thebedroom floor, and,ontheright,aseriesofdoorswhichpresumablygavetheservantsaccesstothevarious receptionrooms in front.Therewasasmellofgarlic-ladencooking.Ifollowedthesmell.Thekitchenwasabigstone-flooredroomontheleftofthepassage.Ithadanoldcharcoalrangealongtherearwallwiththreebatteredfluesover it, and a heavy pinewood tablewith benches in themiddle. Thetablewas clutteredwith cooking debris and bottles, and scarred fromyearsofuseasachoppingblock.Emptybutcher’shookshungfromthebeams.Therewasabarrelona trestle,andbeside ita sinister-lookingzinc icebox.Adoorway toone side gaveon towhat appeared tobe ascullery.A shortman in adirtybluedenim smock stoodby the rangestirringanironpot.ThiswasGeven,thecook.AsIcameinhelookedupandstared.Hewasadark,moon-faced,middle-agedmanwithanupturnednoseand large nostrils. Themouthwaswide and fullwith a lower lip thatquiveredmuchofthetimeasifhewereonthevergeoftears.Thethick,narrowchestmergedintoahighpaunch.Hehadathree-daygrowthofbeard, which was hardly surprising in view of the fact that he hadnowheretoshave.I remembered that he was a Cypriot and spoke to him in English.“Goodevening.Iamthechauffeur,Simpson.Mr.Geven?”“Geven,yes.”Hestoppedstirringandweshookhands.HishandswerefilthyanditoccurredtomethatMr.MillerwasprobablygoingtoneedhisEnteroVioform.“Adrink,eh?”hesaid.“Thanks.”Hepulled a glass out of a bowl of dirtywater by the sink, shook itonce, and poured some konyak from an already opened bottle on thetable.Healsorefilledhisownhalf-emptyglass,whichwasconvenientlytohand.“Here’scheers!”hesaid,andswallowedthirstily.AsentenceofTufan’scame into my mind—“He gets drunk and attacks people.” I had notthoughttoaskwhatsortofpeopleheusuallyattacked,thepersonwithwhomhewasdrinkingorsomecasualbystander.“AreyouBritish?”heasked.

“Yes.”“HowyouknowIspeakEnglish?”Anawkwardquestion.“Ididn’tknow,butIdon’tspeakTurkish.”He nodded, apparently satisfied. “You worked for these peoplebefore?”“Alittle.IdrovethecarfromAthens.Normally,Iworktherewithmyowncar.”“Drivingtourists?”“Yes.”“Arethesepeopletourists?”Histonewasheavilyironical.“Idon’tknow.Theysayso.”“Ah!”Hewinkedknowinglyandwentbacktohisstirringagain.“Areyoubytheweek?”“Paidyoumean?Yes.”“Youhadsomemoneyfromthem?”“ForthetripfromAthens.”“Whopaid?TheFischerman?”“TheHarperman.Youdon’tthinktheyreallyaretourists?”He made a face and rocked his head from side to side as if thequestionweretoosillytoneedananswer.“Whatarethey,then?”He shrugged. “Spies, Russia spies. Everyone know—Hamul and hiswife,thefishermendownbelow,everyone.Youwantsomethingtoeat?”“Thatsmellsgood.”“It is good. It is for us. Hamul’s wife cooks for him in their roombeforetheycometowaittableinthediningroom.Then,Icookforthespies.Maybe,ifIfeellikeit,Igivethemwhatisleftafterweeat,butthebestisforus.Gettwodishes,fromtheshelfthere.”ItwasachickenandvegetablesoupandwasthefirstthingIhadeatenwithanypleasurefordays.Ofcourse,IknewthatIwouldhavetroublewiththegarliclater;but,withmystomachknottedupbynervesthewayitwas,Iwouldhavehadtroublewithanything.Gevendidnoteatmuch.Hewentondrinkingbrandy;buthesmiledapprovinglywhen I tookasecondhelpingofthesoup.“Always I like theBritish,”hesaid.“EvenwhenyouarebackingtheGreeksinCyprusagainstus,IliketheBritish.Itisgoodyouarehere.Amandoesnotlikedrinkingalone.Wecantakeabottleupstairswithus

everynight.”Hesmiledwetlyattheprospect.I returnedthesmile. Itwasnot themoment, I felt, to tellhimthat I

hopednottobesharingtheservants’quarterswithhim.AndthenFischerhadtocomein.Helookedatthebrandybottledisapprovingly,andthenatme.“Iwill

showyouyourroom,”hesaid.Gevenheldupanunsteadilyprotestinghand.“Effendi, lethimfinish

hisdinner.Iwillshowhimwheretosleep.”ItwasFischer’sopportunity.“Ahno,chef,”hesaid;“hethinkshimself

toogoodtosleepwithyou.”Henoddedtome.“Come.”Geven’slowerlipquiveredsoviolentlythatIwassurehewasaboutto

burstintotears;buthishandalsowenttothebottleasifhewereabouttothrowitatme.Itwaspossible,Ithought,thathemightbegoingtodoboththings.Iwhisperedhurriedly:“Harper’sorders,nothingtodowithme,”and

gotoutoutoftheroomasquicklyasIcould.Fischerwasalreadyatthestaircaseinthepassage.“You will use these stairs,” he said; “not those in the front of the

house.”Theroomtowhichhenowshowedmewasatthesideofthehouseon

thebedroomfloor.Hepointedtothedoorofit.“Thereistheroom,”hesaid,andthenpointedtoanotherdooralong

the corridor; “and there is a bathroom. The carwill bewanted in themorning at eleven.” With that he left, turning off the lights in thecorridorashewent.When he had gone, I turned the lights on again. The corridor had

creamlincrustadadoeswith floweredwallpaperabove. Ihada lookatthe bathroom. It was a most peculiar shape and had obviously beeninstalled, as anafterthought, inadisused storage closet.Therewasnowindow.TheplumbingfixtureswereGerman,circa1905.Onlythecold-watertapsworked.Thebedroomwasn’ttoobad.Ithadapairoffrenchwindows,abrass

bedstead,achestofdrawers,andabigwardrobe.Therewasalsoadealtablewithanancienthand-operatedsewingmachineonit.Atthetimewhen women guests in big houses always brought their lady’s maidswith them to stay, the room had probably been given to one of thevisitingmaids.

Therewasamattressonthebed,butnosheetsorblankets.Iknewitwould be unwise to complain again. Before I got my bag from thegarage, Iwentbackup to the servants’ quarters and took theblanketsfromthecubiclewhichFischerhadallocatedtome.ThenIreturnedtotheroom.Thecarradiotransmissionwasn’tdueuntileleven;Ihadtimetokill.Ibeganbysearchingtheroom.Ialwayslikelookinginsideotherpeople’sdrawersandcupboards.You

can find strange things. I remember once,when Iwas at Coram’s,myaunt had pleurisy and theDistrictNurse said that Iwould have to beboarded out for a month. Some people with an old house off theLewishamHighRoadtookmein.Thehousehadthicklaurelbushesallrounditandbigchestnuttreesthatmadeitverydark.Ihatedgoingpastthelaurelbushesatnight,becauseatthattimeIbelieved(inthewayaboydoes) thatamadmanwithaGermanbayonetwasalways lying inwaitreadytopounceonmefrombehindandmurderme.Butinsidethehouseitwasallright.TherewasasmellofLifebuoysoapandfurniturepolish.Thepeoplehadhada sonwhohadbeenkilledon theSomme,andtheygavemehisroom.Ifoundallsortsofthingsinthecupboard.Therewasastampcollection,forinstance.Ihadnevercollectedstamps,butalotofchapsatschooldidandItookoneortwoofthestampsandsold them.Afterall,hewasdead, sohedidn’tneed them.The thing Ilikedmostthoughwashiscollectionofminerals.Itwasinaflatwoodencase divided up into squareswith a different piece ofmineral in eachone and labels sayingwhat theywere—graphite, galena,mica, quartz,ironpyrites,chalcocite,flourite,wolfram,andsoon.Therewereexactlysixty-four squares and exactly sixty-four pieces ofmineral, so at first Icouldn’t see how to keep any of them for myself because the emptysquarewouldhaveshownthatsomethingwasmissing.Ididtakeoneortwoofthemtoschooltoshowthechemistrymasterandtrytogetinhisgoodbooks;butheonlygotsuspiciousandaskedmewhereIhadfoundthem. I had to tell him that an uncle had lent them tome before hewouldletmehavethemback.Afterthat,Ijustkeptthemintheboxandlookedatthem;untilIwentbacktomyaunt’sthatis,whenItooktheironpyritesbecauseitlookedasifithadgoldinit.Ileftasmallpieceofcoal in the square instead. I don’t think they ever noticed. I kept thatpieceofironpyritesforyears.“Fool’sgold”somepeoplecallit.AllIfoundintheroomatSardunyawasanoldRussiancalendarmade

ofcardboardintheshapeofanicon.Therewasadark-brownpictureofChrist on it. I don’t read Russian, so I couldn’t make out the date. Itwasn’tworthtaking.I had thewindowswide open. Itwas so quiet up there that I could

hear the diesels of a ship chugging upstream against the Black SeacurrenttowardstheboomacrossthenarrowsaboveSariyer.Untilabouteight-thirtytherewasafaintmurmurofvoicesfromtheterraceinfront.Then theywent in to dinner. Some time after nine, I became restless.Afterall,nobodyhadtoldmetostayinmyroom.Idecidedtogoforastroll.Justtobeonthesafeside,incaseanyonetookitintohisheadtogo

throughmythings,Ihidtheradioontopofthewardrobe.ThenIwentdown,outthroughthereardoor,andskirtedthefrontcourtyardtothedrive.ItwassodarkthereunderthetreesthatIcouldn’treallyseewhereI

was going, and after I had gone a hundred yards or so I turned back.MissLipp,Harper,Miller,andFischerwerecomingoutontotheterraceagainwhenIreachedthecourtyard,andHamulwaslightingcandlesonthetables.Alongthesideofthecourtyarditwasquitedark,andtheweedsmade

it easy tomove quietly over the gravel. At the entrance to the stableyardIstoppedbythewalltoseeifIcouldhearanythingtheysaid.Imusthavewaited there for twentyminutesormorebefore Iheard

anythingbutanindistinctmumble.Then,oneofthemenlaughedloudly—Milleritwas—andIheardhimsayingsevenwordsasiftheyweretheclimaxofajoke.“Let thedogsbe fedandclothed!”he cackled, and then repeated it.

“Letthedogsbefedandclothed!”Theothers laughedwithhim,andthenthemumblingbeganagain. I

wentoninanduptomyroom.ImadethebedascomfortableasIcouldwiththeblankets,andthen

shavedtosavemyselfthetroubleofdoingsointhemorning.Justbeforeeleven, I took theradiooutof itscase,opened theback,

andturnedthesmallswitch.AllIgotwasahissingsound.Iwaited.Ididnot trouble to use the earphone, because I did not see any reason tothen.Ihadnotevenshutthewindows.On the stroke of eleven, the set made a harsh clacking noise. A

moment later, avoice crackled through the tiny loudspeakerat suchahighvolumelevelthatIcouldfeelthewholesetvibratinginmyhands.Itriedtoturnthethingdown,but,withtheV.H.F.on,thecontrolseemedto have no effect. All I could dowas stuff the set under the blankets.Even there it seemed like a public-address system. I scrambled to thewindowsandshutthem.Theloudspeakerbeganrepeatingitsmessage.Attention period report. Attention period report. New arrival is Leopold

AxelMiller.Belgianpassportgivesfollowingdata:Agesixty-three,describedas importer, place of birth Antwerp. Data now also received concerningTekelekS.A., a Swiss corporation registered inBerne.Nominal capital fiftythousand Swiss francs. Directors are K.W.Hoffman, R. E. Kohner, G. D.Bernadi, and L. A. Mathis, all of whom are believed to have personalnumbered and secret accounts at BanqueCrédit Suisse, Zurich. Business ofTekelek said to be sale of electronic accountingmachinesmanufactured inWestGermany.Urgentyoureportprogress.Attentionperiodreport…I fumbled under the blankets, turned the V.H.F. switch off, and

replaced thebackon theset.Then I tuned inaTurkishstation incaseanyonehadheardthenoiseandcametoinvestigate.Nobodydid.“Urgentyoureportprogress.”Ihadacigarettepacketwithtwocigarettesleftinit.Ilitone,putthe

otherinmypocket,andwenttothebathroomforapieceoftoiletpaper.WhenIreturnedIlockedthedoorandsatdowntowritemyprogress

report.Itwasquiteshort.Cook, caretaker, and local fishermen all believe suspects to be Russian

spies.I folded the toiletpaper,put it inside thecigarettepacket, crumpled

the packet, and put the result inmy pocket ready for disposal in themorning.IfeltIhaddonemydutyforthatday.

7

IwokeupveryearlyinthemorningandwiththatnastysickfeelingthatIusedtohavewhenitwasaschooldayandIhadn’tdonemyhomeworkproperlythenightbefore.Igotthecigarettepacketoutofmypocketandhadanotherlookatmy

toilet-paperreport. Itreallywasnotgoodenough.Unless Icouldthinkof something else to say, Tufan would think that I was trying to befunny.Iwentandhadanextremelyuncomfortablecoldbath,collectedsomemoresheetsoftoiletpaper,andstartedagain.Period report heard.Attempts to check door contents frustrated.Will try

againtoday,Iwrote.I thought about the “today.” Fischer had ordered the car for eleven

o’clock.Withthatinstructiontorelyupon,itwouldbeperfectlynaturalfor me to go and fill up the car with petrol without asking anyone’spermission;and,aslongasIdidn’tkeepthemwaiting,Icouldtakemytimeaboutit.If,whenIgotback,theyobjectedtomyhavingtakenthecaroutbymyselforwantedtoknowwhyIhadbeensolong,Icouldsaythat I had been to buy razor blades or something, and be the injuredinnocent.Itwassixforty-fivebythenandinafewminutesIwouldhavetoget

readyfortheseveno’clockradiocontact.TwootherthingsoccurredtomethatImightaddtomyreport.Willtelephoneyoufromgarageafter inspectionif timeandcircumstances

allow, orwill add to this report. During conversation Lipp-Miller yesterdayname“Giulio”wasmentionedinconnectionwithaboat.Nootherdetails.Then I added thebit about theRussian spies. It didn’t lookquite so

baldandstupidnow.Ihidthereportundertheliningpaperofoneofthedrawers,shutthe

french windows tight, and got the radio ready with the earphoneattachmentpluggedin.Promptlyatseventhecarbegantransmitting.

Attentionperiodreport.Attentionperiodreport.AdvicereceivedfromSwisssourcethatnopassportshavebeenlegallyissuedtoHarperandLipp.InviewMillercontactandTekelekpaperswithHarper,possibilitymustbeconsideredthat correct names of Harper and Lipp are Hoffman and Kohner or viceversa.MillermaybeMathis.Imperativeyoureportprogress.AsthevoicebeganrepeatingIswitchedoff.WhenIhadpackedthesetaway,Igotthereportoutandaddedfivewords.Hoffman,Kohner,andMathisnamesnoted.At least, Iought togetan“E” forEffort. Iput thenewreport in thecigarettepacket,burnedtheearlierone,andstartedtogetdressed.AsIdidso,IheardtheLambrettastartupandthengowhiningoffdownthedrive.About twentyminutes later, I heard the soundof it returning. Ilookedoutof thewindowandsawitdisappearing into thestableyardwithabundleofpartiallywrappedloavesstrappedtotherearseat.Geven was back in the kitchen when I went down. He gave me asullen look and did not answer when I said “goodmorning.” He wasprobablyhungoveraswellasdisgustedwithme;buthelookedsuchamessanywaythatitwashardtotell.Therewas a pot of coffee on the range and I looked from it to himinquiringly. He shrugged, so I got a cup and helped myself. He wasslicingthebreadbyhackingatitwithaheavychoppingknife.FromtheneatwaytheslicesfellIknewthatthechoppingknifewasassharpasarazor.AsIhadnodesiretoloseanyfingers,Iwaiteduntilhehadputitasidebeforetakingapieceofbread.Thecoffeedidnot tastemuch likecoffee,but thebreadwasgood. Iconsideredattemptingtohealthebreachbyofferinghimtheuseofmybathroom;but I onlyhadone towel and the thoughtofwhat itwouldlook likeby the timehehad finishedwith itkeptme silent. Instead, Iofferedhimacigarette.Hetook itandmotionedtoabasketofapricotson the table. Idon’tlikeapricots,butitseemedaswelltoaccepttheoffer.Soonhebegantomutteraboutthebreakfastswhichhadtobeserved,eachonaseparatetraytothefour“lordsandladies”above.Iofferedtolaythetraysand,althoughhewaved away the offer, friendly relations seemed to be re-established. After a while, Mr. and Mrs. Hamul arrived and wereintroduced.Mrs.Hamulwasasmall,stout,sad-lookingoldwomanwiththe black dress and head scarf of the conservative Turkishmatron.As

neithershenorherhusbandspokeawordofanythingbutTurkish,theformalitieswerebrief.Ilingeredthere,though,andhadanotherpieceofbread.Thebesttimetoleavewithoutattractingattention,Ihaddecided,wouldbewhileHarperandtherestwerehavingtheirbreakfasts.Assoonasthetraysstartedgoingup,I toldGeventhatIhadtobuypetrolandaskediftherewasanythingIcouldgetforhimwhileIwasintown.Atoncehewantedtocomewithme. Igotoutof thatbysayingthatIhadtogoimmediatelyinordertobebackatthetimeforwhichthe car had been ordered. I left him, sulking, picked up the Phillipsscrewdriverfrommyroom,andwenttothegarage.TheLincolnwasaquietcar,andIknewthatalltheywouldprobablyhearofmygoingwouldbe the soundof the tireson thegravelof thecourtyard;but IwassoafraidofHarperorFischersuddenlyappearingononeof thebedroombalconiesandyellingatmetostop, that inmyhastetoreachthedriveIalmosthitthebasinofthefountain.AsIwenton down the drive I broke into a sweat and my legs felt weak andpeculiar.Iwantedtostopandbesick.Thatmaysoundverystupid;butwhen you are like I am, the bad things thatnearly happen are just ashard, in a way, as the bad things that actually do happen. They arecertainly no easier to forget. I always envied those characters inAlicewhoonly feltpainbefore theywerehurt. I seem to feel thingsbefore,during, and after as well; nothing ever goes completely away. I haveoftenthoughtofkillingmyself,sothatIwouldn’thavetothinkorfeelorrememberanymore,sothatIcouldrest;butthenIhavealwaysstartedworrying in case this afterlife theypreachabout really exists. Itmightturnouttobeevenbloodierthantheoldone.The Peugeot was back on duty again. I drove towards Sariyer forabouthalfamile,andthenturnedleftontooneoftheroadsleadingupto the forest. ItwasSundaymorningand families fromIstanbulwouldsoonbearrivingatthemunicipalpicnicgroundstospendtheday;butatthatearlyhour thecar-parkingareaswerestill fairlyempty,and Ihadnodifficultyinfindingasecludedplaceunderthetrees.Idecidedtotrythesamedooragain.Ihadscratchedtheleatheronitoncealready;butifIwereverycarefulitneednotbescratchedagain.Inanycase,as longasIdrovethecar,scratcheswouldbe lessnoticeableon that door than on the others. The earlier attempt had taught mesomething,too.IfIremovedallthescrewsonthehingesideofthedoor

firstandonlyloosenedtheothers,Ithoughtitmightbepossibletoeasethepanelbackenoughtoseeinsidethedoorwithouttakingthewholepanelandelectricwindowmechanismcompletelyaway.IttookmetwentyminutestofindoutthatIwasrightaboutthepanel,

and a further five seconds to learn that I had been completelywrongaboutthestuffhavingbeenremoved.Thereitstillwas,justasIhadseenit inthephotographsTufanhadshownmeatEdirne. Inthisparticulardoor there were twelve small, paper-wrapped cylinders—probablygrenades.I screwed the panel back into place, and then sat there for awhile

thinking.ThePeugeotwasparkedaboutahundredyardsaway—Icouldsee it in themirror—andIverynearlygotoutandwalkedbackto tellthedriverwhatIhadfound.Iwantedbadlytotalktosomeone.ThenIpulledmyself together.Therewasnopoint in talking to someonewhowouldn’t,orcouldn’t,usefullytalkback.Thesensiblethingwouldbetoobeyorders.Itookmyreportoutofthecigarettepacketandaddedtoit.9:20a.m.inspectedinteriorfrontdoordriver’sside.Materialstillinplace

as per photo. In viewof timeabsent fromvilla and inability to add to thisreport,willnottelephonefromgaragenow.Ireplacedthetoiletpaperinthepacket,tosseditoutofthewindow,

anddrovebackonto the road. Iwaited just longenough to seeamanfromthePeugeotpickupthereport,thenIdroveintoSariyerandfilledthetank.Iarrivedbackatthevillajustbeforeten.I half expected to find an angry Fischer pacing the courtyard and

demandingtoknowwherethehellI’dbeen.Therewasnobody.Idrovethe car into the stable yard, emptied the ash trays, brushed the floorcarpeting, and ran a duster over the body. The Phillips screwdriver inmypocketworriedme.Now that Iknew that the stuffwas still in thecar,itseemedanincriminatingthingtohave.Icertainlydidnotwanttoputitbackinmyroom.Itmightbeneededagain,soIcouldnotthrowitaway.Intheend,Ihiditinsidethecoverofanoldtirehangingonthewall of the garage. Then I went and tidied myself up. Shortly beforeeleven o’clock I drove the car round to the marble steps in the frontcourtyard.After about ten minutes Harper came out. He was wearing a blue

sportsshirtwithblueslacks,andhehadamapinhishand.Henodded

inresponsetomygreeting.“Areweallrightforgas,Arthur?”“Ifilleditthismorning,sir.”“Oh,youdid.”He lookedagreeablysurprised.“Well,doyouknowaplacecalledPendik?”“I’veheard thename.On theother side somewhere, isn’t it?There’ssupposedtobeagoodrestaurantthere,Ithink.”“That’stheplace.OntheSeaofMarmara.”Hespreadthemapoutandpointedtotheplace.FromUskudar,ontheAsiansideoftheBosphorus,itwastwenty-oddmilessouthalongthecoast.“Howlongwillittakeustogetthere?”“Ifwehaveluckwiththecarferryaboutanhourandahalffromhere,sir.”“Andifwedon’thaveluck?”“Perhapstenortwentyminutesmore.”“All right.Here’swhatwedo.First,wego into townanddropMissLippandMr.MilleroffattheHiltonHotel.Then,youdriveMr.FischerandmetoPendik.We’llbethereacoupleofhours.OnthewaybackwestopoffattheHiltontopicktheothersup.Clear?”“Yes,sir.”“Whopaidforthegas?”“Idid,sir.IstillhavesomeoftheTurkishmoneyyougaveme.Ihavethegaragereceipthere.”Hewaveditaside.“Doyouhaveanymoneyleft?”“Onlyafewliranow.”Hegavemetwofifty-liranotes.“That’sforexpenses.YoupickedupacoupleofchecksforMissLipp,too.Takethemoneyoutofthat.”“Verywell,sir.”“And,Arthur—stopneedlingMr.Fischer,willyou?”“Iratherthoughtthatheintendedtoneedleme,sir.”“Yougottheroomandbathroomyouaskedfor,didn’tyou?”“Yes,sir.”“Wellthen,cutitout.”I started to point out that since I had been shown to the room thepreviousnight IhadnotevenseteyesonFischer,much less“needled”him,buthewasalreadywalkingbacktothehouse.They all came out fiveminutes later.Miss Lippwas inwhite linen;

Miller,drapedwithcameraandlensattachmentcase,lookedverymuchthe tourist;Fischer, inmaillot,white jeans,and sandals, looked likeanelderlybeachboyfromAntibes.Harper sat in front with me. The others got into the back. Nobody

talkedonthewayintoIstanbul.Evenatthetime,Ididn’tfeelthatitwasmypresencetherethatkeptthemsilent.Theyallhadtheself-containedairofpersonsonthewaytoanimportantbusinessconferencewhohavealready explored every conceivable aspect of the negotiations that lieahead,andcanonlywaitnowtolearnwhattheotherside’sattitudeisgoingtobe.Yet,twoofthemseemedheadedforasightseeingtour,andthe others for a seaside lunch. It was all rather odd. However, thePeugeot was following and, presumably, those in it would be able tocopewiththesituationwhenthepartysplitup.TherewasnothingmoreIcoulddo.MissLippandMillergotoutat thedoorof theHilton.A touristbus

blocked thedriveway longenough forme to see that theywent insidethe hotel, and that a man from the Peugeot went in after them. Thenarcoticsoperationsuddenlymadesenseagain.Theraw-opiumsupplierwould be waiting in his room with samples which Miller, the skilledchemist,wouldproceedtotestandevaluate.Later,ifthesamplesprovedsatisfactory,andonlyiftheydid,Harperwouldconsummatethedeal.Inthemeantime,agoodlunchseemedtobeinorder.WehadtowaitafewminutesforthecarferrytoUskudar.Fromthe

ferrypier it iseasytoseeacrossthewaterthemilitarybarrackswhichbecameFlorenceNightingale’shospitalduringtheCrimeanWar.Justforthesakeofsomethingtosay,IpointeditouttoHarper.“Whataboutit?”hesaidrudely.“Nothing, sir. It’s just that that was Florence Nightingale’s hospital.

Scutaritheplacewascalledthen.”“Look,Arthur,weknowyouhaveaguide’s license,butdon’t take it

tooseriously,huh?”Fischerlaughed.“Ithoughtyoumightbeinterested,sir.”“Allwe’reinterestedinisgettingtoPendik.Where’sthisgoddamferry

youtalkedabout?”Ididn’ttroubletoanswerthat.Theferryboatwasjustcomingintothe

pier, and he was merely being offensive—for Fischer’s benefit, I

suspected. I wondered what they would have said if I had told themwhat the sand-colored Peugeot just behind us in the line of cars wastherefor,andwhoseordersitsdriverwasobeying.Thethoughtkeptmeamusedforquiteawhile.From Uskudar I took the Ankara road, which is wide and fast, and

drove for about eighteen miles before I came to the secondary roadwhich ledoff on the right toPendik.Wearrived there justbeforeoneo’clock.Itprovedtobeasmallfishingportintheshelterofaheadland.There

were several yachts anchored in the harbor. Twowooden piers juttedout from the road which ran parallel to the foreshore; one had arestaurantbuiltonit,theotherservedthesmallerboatsanddinghiesasalandingstage.Theplaceswarmedwithchildren.Iwas edgingmyway along the narrow road towards the restaurant

whenHarpertoldmetostop.Wewerelevelwiththelandingstageandamanwasapproachingthe

roadalongit.Hewaswearingayachtingcapnow,butIrecognizedhim.ItwasthemanwhohadbeenwaitingattheHiltoncarparkonthenightIhadarrivedinIstanbul.Hehadobviouslyrecognizedthecarandraisedhishandingreetingas

HarperandFischergotout.“Parkthecarandgetyourself somethingtoeat,”Harpersaid tome.

“Meetusbackhereinanhour.”“Verygood,sir.”The man in the yachting cap had reached the road and I heard

Harper’sgreetingasthethreemet.“Hi,Giulio.Stabene?”And then they were walking back along the landing stage. In the

drivingmirror,IcouldseeamanfromthePeugeotsaunteringdowntothequaysidetoseewhathappenednext.Attheendofthelandingstagetheyclimbedintoanoutboarddinghy.

Giulio started it up and they shot away towards a group of yachtsanchoredabouttwohundredyardsout.Theywentalongsideasixty-footcabincruiserwithasquat funnel.Thehullwasblack, theupperworkswhite, and the funnelhada singlebandof yellow round it.ATurkishflag drooped from the staff at the stern. There was a small gangwaydown,andadeckhandwithaboathooktoholdthedinghyasthethree

wentonboard.Itwastoofarawayformetoseethenameonthehull.Iparkedthecarandwentintotherestaurant.Theplacewasfairlyfull,butImanagedtogetatablenearawindowfromwhichIcouldkeepaneye on the cruiser. I asked the headwaiter about her and learned hername,Bulut, and the fact that shewas on charter to awealthy Italiangentleman,SignorGiulio,whocouldeattwowholelobstersatasitting.Ididnotpursuemyinquiries;Tufan’smenwoulddoubtlessgetwhatinformationwas to be had from the local police. At least I knewnowwhat Giulio looked like, and where the boat which Miss Lipp hadmentioned toMiller was based. I could also guess that Giulio was nomorethetruechartereroftheBulutthanwasFischerthetruelesseeoftheKöskSardunya.WealthyItaliangentlemenwithyachtsdonotlurkinthe Istanbul Hilton car park waiting to drive away cars stuffed withcontrabandarms;theyemployunderlingstodosuchthings.Just asmygrilled swordfish cutlet arrived, I saw that theBulutwasmoving.Aminuteor two later,herbowanchorcameoutof thewaterand therewas a swirl ofwhite at her stern. The dinghyhad been leftmooredtoabuoy.Theonlypeopleonthedeckofthecabincruiserwerethetwohandsatthewinches.Sheheadedoutacrossthebaytowardsanoffshore island justvisible in thedistanthaze. Iwonderedwhether thePeugeotmenwouldcommandeeramotorboatandfollow;butnootherboatofanykindlefttheharbor.Afteraboutanhour,theBulutreturnedandanchoredinthesameplaceasbefore.Ipaidmybillandwenttothecar.Giulio brought Harper and Fischer back to the landing stage in thedinghy,butdidnotlandwiththem.Therewasanexchangeoffarewellsthat I could seebutnothear, and then theywalkedashore to thecar.Harper was carrying a flat cardboard box about two feet long by sixincheswide.Itwasroughlytiedwithstring.“Okay,Arthur,”hesaidashegotintothecar.“BacktotheHilton.”“Verygood,sir.”AsIdroveoffheglancedbackatthepiers.“Wheredidyoulunch?”heasked.“Thatrestaurantthere?”“Yes,sir.”“Goodfood?”“Excellent,sir.”HegrinnedoverhisshoulderatFischer.“TrustGiulio!”

“Our man Geven can cook well,” said Fischer defensively, “and Iintendtoproveittoyou.”“He’salush,”Harpersaidshortly.“Hecookedacastradina beforeyouarrivedwhichwouldhavemadeyouthinkthatyouwereintheQuadri.”Fischerwasgettingworkedupnow and leaning forward over the back of the front seat. His breathsmelledofgarlicandwine.I could not resist the opportunity. “If you don’tmindmy saying so,sir,”IsaidtoHarper,“IthinkMr.Fischerisright.Gevenisanexcellentcook.Thechickensouphegavemelastnightwasperfect.”“Whatsoup?”Fischerdemanded.“Wedidnotgetsoup.”“Hewasupset,”Isaid.“Youremember,Mr.Fischer,thatyoutoldhimthathewasnotgoodenoughtohaveabathroom.Hewasupset.Ithinkhethrewawaythesouphehadmade.”“Itoldhimnosuchathing!”Fischerwasbecomingshrill.“Waitaminute,”saidHarper.“Thecookdoesn’thaveabathroom?”“Hehasthewholeoftheservants’roomsforhimself,”Fischersaid.“Butnobathroom?”“Thereisnobathroomthere.”“Whatareyoutryingtodo,Hans—poisonus?”Fischerflunghimselfagainstthebackseatwithaforcethatmadethecar lurch. “Iam tired,”hedeclared loudly, “of trying toarrangeeverymatter as it should be arranged and then to receive nothing butcriticism. Iwillnot so tobeaccused, thus…”HisEnglishbrokedowncompletelyandhewentintoGerman.Harperansweredhimbrieflyinthesamelanguage.Idon’tknowwhathesaid,butitshutFischerup.Harperlitacigarette.Afteramomentortwohesaid:“You’reastupidcrook,aren’tyou,Arthur?”“Sir?”“Ifyouwereasmartone,allyou’dbethinkingaboutwouldbehowmuch dough you could screw out of this deal without getting yourfingerscaughtinthetill.Butnotyou.Thatmiserablelittleegoofyourshastohaveitskicks,too,doesn’tit?”“Idon’tunderstand,sir.”“Yes you do. I don’t like stupid people around me. They make menervous. I warned you once before. I’m not warning you again. Nexttimeyouseeachanceofgettingcute,youforgetit,quick;becauseifyou

don’t,thatego’sliabletogetdamagedpermanently.”Itseemedwisertosaynothing.“You’renotstillsayingthatyoudon’tunderstand,Arthur?”Heflicked

mykneeviciouslywiththebackofhishand.ThepainstartledmeandIswerved.He flickedme again. “Watchwhere you’re going.What’s thematter? Can’t you talk while you’re driving, or has the cat got yourtongue?”“Iunderstand,sir.”“That’sbetter.Nowyouapologize,likealittleEgyptiangentleman,to

Mr.Fischer.”“I’mverysorry,sir.”Fischer,appeased,signifiedhisforgivenesswithashortlaugh.TheferryfromUskudarwascrowdedwithreturningSundaymotorists

and it took half an hour to get on a boat.Miss Lipp andMiller werewaiting at the hotel entrancewhen I pulled up.Miller gave awolfishgrinand,asusual,leapedintothecaraheadofMissLipp.“Youtookyourtime,”hesaidtonooneinparticular.“The ferry was crowded,” Harper replied. “Did you have a good

afternoon?”It was Miss Lipp who answered him. “Let the dogs be fed and

clothed,” she said. It was the same sentence that I had heard Millercackling over the previous night, and I wondered idly what it couldmean.Harpernoddedtoher.“Let’sgetbacktothevilla,Arthur,”hesaid.Noneofthemutteredawordonthedriveback.Isensedafeelingof

tension between them, and wondered who was waiting to report towhom.Astheygotoutofthecar,Harperpickedthecardboardboxupoffthefloorandturnedtome.“That’sitfortoday,Arthur.”“Whattimetomorrow,sir?”“I’llletyouknow.”“Thecarisverydusty,sir,andthereisnoproperhosehere.Iwould

liketogetitwashedatagarage.”“Youdothat.”HecouldnothavecaredlesswhatIdid.Idrove intoSariyerand foundagaragewhere theywouldwash the

car.Ileftitthereandwenttoacafé.IhadadrinkbeforeItelephonedTufan.

ThewrittenreportofthemorninghadbeensupplementedbyreportsfromthesurveillancesquadandhehadmoretotellmethanIhadtotellhim. Giulio’s other name was Corzo, and his Swiss passport gave hisoccupationas“industrialdesigner.”Hisagewasforty-fiveandhisplaceofbirthLugano.Thecabincruiserhadbeencharteredaweekearlier,foronemonth,throughayachtbroker inAntalya.Thecrewofthreewerelocal men of good reputation. As for Miss Lipp and Miller, they hadlunchedintheHiltongrillroom,thenhiredacar.Theyhadspentforty-fiveminutessightseeingandreturnedtotheHilton,whereMissLipphadvisited the hairdresser. She had had a shampoo and set. Miller hadpassedthetimereadingFrenchnewspapersontheterrace.“ThenitmusthavebeenthemeetingwithGiuliotheywantedtohear

about,”Isaid.“Whatdoyoumean?”ItoldhimofthefeelingIhadhadonthewaybackthattheyhadbeen

impatientforachancetotalkprivately.“Thenwhyareyounotatthevilla?Gobackthereimmediately.”“IftheywishtohaveprivatetalkthereisnothingIcandotooverhear

it. Their part of the house on the ground floor is separate. I have notevenseenthoserooms.”“Aretherenowindows?”“Giving on to their private terrace, yes. I could have no excuse for

beingevennearit,letaloneonit.”“Thendowithoutanexcuse.”“Youtoldmetotakenorisks.”“Nounnecessaryrisks.Animportantdiscussionjustifiesrisk.”“I don’tknow that it is important. I just had a feeling. I don’t know

that it’sadiscussioneither.Harpermay justhavewanted topassonapieceofprivate informationhehadreceivedfromGiulio to theothers.Thewholethingcouldhavebeenoverinaminute.”“ThemeetingatPendikwasobviouslyimportant.Wemustknowwhy.

Sofarallyouhavelearnedisgossipfromafoolofacook.Whatdothesepeoplewitharmsandammunitionhiddenintheircarandfalsepassportsdiscuss when they are alone?What do they say? It is for you to findout.”“Icantellyouonethingtheysay—‘Letthedogsbefedandclothed.’I

overhearditfirstlastnight.Itseemedtobesomesortofprivatejoke.”

HewassilentforamomentandIwaitedforanotherangryoutburst.None came. Instead he said thoughtfully: “That is quite an interestingjoke.”“Whatdoesitmean?”“WhenoneoftheoldSultanswaspreparingtoreceiveacertainclass

ofpersons,hewouldalwayskeepthemwaitinga longtime,perhapsawhole day. Then, when he thought that they had been sufficientlyhumbled,hewouldgive thatorder—‘Let thedogsbe fedandclothed.’Afterthat,theywouldbeadmittedtothechamberoftheGrandVizier,givenfood,androbedincaftans.”“Whatclassofpersons?”“Theambassadorsof foreignpowers.”Hepaused.Obviously,hewas

still thinking about it. Then he dismissed me curtly. “You have yourorders.Reportasarranged.”Iwentandgotthecar.Themanatthegaragewhohadthekeytothe

petrolpumphadgonehome,andtherewasonlytheoldmanwhohadwashed the car waiting for me. I wasn’t too pleased about that, as itmeant that Iwouldhave to fill the tank in themorning.Opportunitiesfor making telephone reports to Tufan did not seem particularlydesirableatthatmoment.WhenIgotbacktothevillaitwasalmostdarkandthelightswereon

intheterracerooms.Iputthecarawayandwenttothekitchen.Gevenwas in a jovialmood. Fischer hadmoved him to a bedroom

nearmineandtoldhimtosharemybathroom.WhetherthiswasduetospiteonFischer’spartorashortageofbathrooms,Icouldn’ttell.Geven,through some obscure reasoning process of his own, had decided thatthewholethinghadbeenmyidea.Inaway,Isuppose,hewasright;buttherewasnothingtobedoneaboutit.Itookatumblerofbrandyfromhim and beamed like an idiot as if I had earned every drop. He hadcooked a spaghetti Bolognese for the kitchen. The spies were havingcanned soup and a shish kebabmadewithmuttonwhich, he proudlyassuredme,wasastoughasnewleather.Thespaghettiwasreallygood.Ihadadoublehelpingofit.AssoonastheHamulsarrived,Igotaway,givingasanexcusethatIhadworktodoonthecar.Iwentouttotheyard.The terrace ran along the front and right side of the house; I had

noticedadoorinthewallbesidethegarage.Therewasanorchardoffig

trees beyond and I thought it possible that the side terrace might beaccessiblefromthere.Thedoorhadnolock,onlyalatch,buttheoldhingeswererustyandI

used the dip stick from the car to run some oil into them before Iattemptedtoopenit.ItswunginwardsilentlyandIshutitbehindme.Iwaited then,not only so thatmyeyeswouldgetused to thedarkbutbecausethespieshadnotyetgoneintodinner.Icouldheartheirvoicesfaintly.IknewthatTufanwouldhavewantedmetogocloserandhearwhattheyweresaying;butIdidn’t.ThegroundwasunevenandIwouldhave to feelmyway towards the terrace balustrade. I preferred to dothatwhiletheywerewellawayfromtheterraceandtryingtogettheirteethintoGeven’sshishkebab.After fifteen or twenty minutes, dinner was served and I edged

forwardslowlytotheterrace.AssoonasIreacheditandwasabletoseethroughthebalustrade,Irealizedthatitwouldbeimpossibleformetoget close enough to thewindows of the room they had been using tohearanything.Therewas toomuch lightcoming fromthem. I supposeone of these daredevil agents you hear about would have concealedhimselfintheshadows;butthatlookedtooriskyforme.Gettingtotheshadowswouldhavebeeneasyenough;butifHarperandCo.decidedtositoutside,astheyhaddonethenightbefore,therewouldhavebeennowayofgettingbackwithoutbeingseen.IwalkedonthroughtheorcharduntilIcametotheouteredgeofthe

frontcourtyard.ThiswasthesidewhichoverlookedtheBosphorusandthere were no trees to obstruct the view. A low stone balustrade ranalongtheedgewithastatueonaplinthateachend.Thefirstofthesestatueswasoverthirtyfeetfromthecorneroftheterrace,butitwasthenearest Icouldgetandstillremainincover.Thetopoftheplinthwaschest-high.Usingthebalustradeasasteppingstone,itwasn’tdifficulttoclimb up. The statue, a larger than life-size Vestal virgin with bird-droppingsalloverher,seemedquitesteady,andIwasabletoholdontoherdraperies.FromtheplinthIcouldseeovertheterracebalustradingandthroughthewindowsofthecornerdrawingroom.Itwasnotmuch,butitwassomething.Iftheydiddecidetocomeoutontotheterrace,Imightevencatchawordortwoofwhattheysaid.Afterabouttwentyminutes,theycamebackintotheroom.Thebitsof

itthatIcouldseecontainedanoldleather-toppedlibrarytable,partofa

fadedgreensettee,partofawallmirror,alowroundtable,andoneortwogiltchairs.TheonlypersonIcouldactuallyseeatfirstwasMiller,whotookacornerofthesettee;buthewastalkingnineteentothedozenandwaving his hands about, so he obviouslywasn’t alone. ThenMrs.Hamulcameinwithacoffeetray,whichsheputontheroundtable,andIsawbitsoftheothersastheyhelpedthemselves.SomebodygaveMilleraglassofbrandy,whichhedrankasifheneededit;hecouldhavebeentrying to wash away the taste of his dinner. After a bit, he stoppedtalking and appeared to be listening, his head moving slightly as heshifted his attention from one speaker to another. Then, there was aflashofwhite in themirrorandhishead turned.Foramoment, I sawMiss Lipp. She had changed into a green dress, though; the whitebelonged to a large sheet of paper.Almost immediately it disappearedfromview.Miller’sheadliftedashebegantolistentosomeonewhowasstandingup.Aminuteorsowentby,andthenthepaperreappeared,asifputaside,onthelibrarytable.Icouldseenowthatitwasamap.Atthat distance and at that angle itwas impossible to tellwhat itwas amapof,but it lookedtomelikearoughlytriangular island. IwasstillstaringatitwhenHarpermovedinandfoldeditintofour.Afterthat,nothingseemedtohappenuntil,suddenly,HarperandMiss

Lippcameoutontotheterracefromawindowmuchfartherawayandwalkeddownthemarblesteps.Therewasnothingpurposefulabouttheirmovements—theywereobviouslyjustgoingforastroll—butIthoughtitaswelltogetoutoftheway.Iftheyweregoingtoadmiretheviewfromthebalustrade,Iwouldbeinanawkwardspot.Igotdownfromtheplinthandmovedbackintotheshelterofthefig

trees.Sureenough,theymadetheirwayroundtothebalustrade.Whenthey turned to go back Iwas only twenty-five feet away from them. Iheardasnatchofconversation.“…ifItookover?”ThatwasMissLipp.“Hewas Leo’s idea,” he answered. “Let Leo take care of him. After

tomorrow, he doesn’tmatter toomuch anyway. EvenArthur could dotherestofthatjob.”She laughed. “The indignant sheep? With his breath you wouldn’t

evenneedthegrenades,Iguess.You’dgetamasssurrender.”Helaughed.Shesaid:“WhendoesGiulio’smanarrive?”

“Sometimetoday.Ididn’twait.Giulioknows…”Iheardnomore.Assoonas theywerewellclear, Iwentback throughtheorchard totheyard,and thenup tomyroom. I locked thedoor.Gevenwouldbefreeof thekitchenat anymoment, and Ididnotwant tobebotheredwithhim.I had to think about what they had said and it was hard to do so,because all I could think aboutwas her laugh and thewords she hadusedaboutme.Ifeltsick.Therewasanothertimewhenithadbeenlikethat,too.JonesivandIhadgoneuptoHillyFieldstomeetacoupleofgirlswe knew.Oneof themwasnamedMuriel, the otherwasMadge.Madgedidn’t turnupbecause,soMurielsaid,shehadacold.Sotherewerejustthethreeofus.MurielwasreallyJones’girl,soIwasmoreorlessoutofit.Itriedtopickupanothergirl,butthatwasmoredifficultwhenyouwerealoneandIdidn’thaveanyluck.Afterawhile,IgaveupandwentbacktowhereIhadlefttheothertwoneckingonaseatunderthetrees.IthoughtI’dcomeupquietlyandgivethemasurprise.ThatishowIoverheardit.Shewassayingthatshehadtogethomeearly,forsomereasonorother,andhewasaskingheraboutSaturdaynight.“WithArthur,too?”shesaid.“Isupposeso.”“Well,Madgewon’tcome.”“She’llbeoverhercoldbythen.”“Shehasn’tgotacold.Shejustdidn’twanttocome.ShesaysArthur’salittletwerpandgivesherthecreeps.”I went away and they didn’t know that I’d heard. Then I was sickbehind the bushes. I hated that girlMadge somuch that itwas like apain.GevencameupandIheardhimgointothebathroom.Alittlewhileafterwards he came out and knocked on my door. I had taken theprecautionofswitchingoffthelightsothatitwouldn’tshowunderthedoorandhewould think that Iwasasleep.Heknockedagain.After afewmomentsIheardhimmutteringtohimself.Thenhewentaway.Inearlychangedmymindandcalledhimin.Icouldhavedonewithadrinkjustthen,andsomeonetotalkto.ButthenIthoughtofhowdirtyhe was and how the stink of his body would stay in the room—the“perfumeofthegreatunwashed,”asmyfatherwouldhavesaid.Besides,

Icouldn’tbesureofgettingridofhimwhenIwantedto,andIhadtheeleveno’clockradiocalltotake.Itcameatlast.Attentionperiodreport.Attentionperiodreport.PassengerforyachtBulutarrived Pendik seventeen hundred hours today. Name Enrico, other namesunknownsofar.Description:short,stocky,blackhair,browneyes,ageaboutthirty-five.Casualobservationofsubjectandhandluggagesuggestsworkmanrather than guest of charterer Corzo. Are you able to identify this man?Important thatwrittennotes of all conversations,withparticular careas topolitical content, should be made. Essential you report progress. Repeat.Essential.Theoutsideofthebodycanbewashedofsweatandgrease;butinsidethereareprocesseswhichproduceothersubstances.Someofthesesmell.Howdoyouwashawaythesmellsoftheinsideofthebody?

8

The morning call was a repetition of that of the previous night, andmadenomoresenseat7a.m.thanithadat11.Igotupandwenttothebathroom. Luckily, I had had the sense to remove my towel to mybedroom;butGevenhadleftafilthymess.Therewasgrayscuminthebathandshavingsoapinthebasin.Patiencewasnecessary inorder toflushthetoiletsuccessfully,andhehadgivenuptoosoon.Shaved,he lookedmorebleary-eyed thanhehadwith the three-day

growth,buthismoodwasoneofjovialaggression.Fischer’scomplaintsabout the shishkebab, it seemed,hadbeen loudand insolent.But thereprisalhadalreadybeenplanned—thespies’dinnerthatnightwouldbeboiledmutton in yoghurt à la Turque. Fischerwould learn to his costwhowasmasterinthekitchen;andifhedidn’tliketheknowledge,wellthen, the spiescouldgooneatingpig swillor find themselvesanotherchef.Ihadbreakfast,gotthecarout,anddrovetothegarageforpetrol.Tufan answered promptly. I made my report about the overheard

conversation first, editing only slightly. “If I took over. He was Leo’sidea, let Leo take care of him. After tomorrow he doesn’t matter toomuchanyway.Grenades…masssurrender.”Hemademerepeatitslowly.Whenhestartedtocomplainthatthere

wasn’t more of it, I told him about the map. I had guessed that thiswouldexcitehisinterest,anditdid.“Yousayitlookedlikeamapofanisland?”“Ithoughtso.Theshapewasroughlytriangular.”“Wasitacoloredmap?”“No,blackandwhite.”“Thenitcouldhavebeenamarinechart?”“Isupposeso.”He said thoughtfully: “A boat, the chart of an island, grenades,

respirators,guns,surrender…”“AndsomethingthatFischeristodotoday,”Iremindedhim.Heignoredtheinterruption.“Youaresurethisislandhadatriangularshape?”“Ithoughtso,butthemapwasn’tabsolutelyflat.Itwashardtosee.Itcouldhavebeenadesignforaswimmingpool.”Heignoredthefrivolity.“Couldithavebeenkidney-shaped?”“Perhaps.Wouldthatmeansomething?”“That is the shape of the island of Yassiada, where certain politicalprisoners are held awaiting trial. It is only fifteen kilometers fromPendik.HaveyouheardthenameYassiadamentioned?”“No.”“OrImrali?”“No.Isthatanisland,too?”“It isatownonanislandsixtykilometersfromPendik.It isalsotheplacewhereMendereswashanged.”“Howisthatislandshaped?”“Like the head of a dog. I must have another report from you thiseveningwithoutfail,evenifitisonlynegative.”“IwilldowhatIcan.”“Aboveall,youmustsearchforthischart.”“HowcanI?”“Youcansearchatnight.Inanycaseyoumustobtainacloserlookatit.”“Idon’tseehowIcandothat.Eveniftheybringitoutagain,Iwon’tbeabletogetanycloser.”“Withbinocularsyoucould.”“Ihavenobinoculars.”“On the way back to the villa, stop on the road. The Opel is onsurveillancedutytoday.Anagentfromthecarwillgiveyoubinoculars.”“SupposingHarperseesthem.HowdoIexplainthem?”“Donot lethimseethem.Iexpectareport tonight. Ifnecessaryyouwillmakedirectcontactwiththesurveillancepersonnel.Isthatclear?”Hehungup.Idrovebacktowardsthevilla.JustoutsideSariyeronthecoastroadIpulledup.TheOpelstoppedahundredyardsbehindme.Afteraminuteor two, aman got out of it andwalked towards the Lincoln. He was

carrying a leather binocular case.He handed it tomewithout awordandwentbacktotheOpel.Iputthebinocularsontheseatanddroveon.Theyweretoobigtoputin my pocket. I would either have to smuggle them up to my roomsomehow, or hide them in the garage. I was annoyed with myself. Ishould have known better. Any sort of map is catnip to intelligencepeople.Ishouldhavekeptquietaboutit.Evenwithoutthebinoculars,though,Iwouldhavebeenirritated,andI did have sense enough to realize that. The binoculars were only anusiance.Itwasreallytheconclusionhehadcometothatbotheredme.Whathe’dwantedtoseeallalong,and,quiteevidently,whathenowdid see,wasyet another conspiracy against theCommitteeofNationalUnion,yetanother coup inpreparation.The last attempt tooverthrowthe Committee had been made by a group of dissident army officersinsidethecountry.Whatmorelikelythanthatthenextattemptwouldbemade with the help of money and hired terrorists from outside thecountry?Whatmorelikelythanthatitwouldbeginwithadaringrescueofofficerprisonersawaitingtrial?Ashehadsaid:“Aboat,thechartofan island, grenades, respirators, guns, surrender.” It all added up soneatly.The trouble was, as it had been all along, that he didn’t know thepeopleconcerned. Idid. Iknewhowvile theywere, too. In fact, therewasnothing Iwantedmoreat thatmoment than to see themgethell.Buttheyjustdidn’tstrikemeasthesortofpeoplewhowouldbehiredterrorists.Icouldnothavesaidwhy.Ifhehadcounteredbyaskingmewhat sort of peoplewere hired terrorists and howmany I had met, Iwouldhavehadno sensible answer.All I couldhave saidwouldhavebeen:“Thesepeoplewouldn’ttakethatkindofrisk.”WhenIgotbacktothevilla,Fischerwasstandingontheterraceatthetopofthesteps.Hemotionedtometopullupthere.Ashecamedownthesteps, I remembered, just in time, to shove thebinocularsonto thefloorbymyfeet.“Youwillnotbewantedtoday,Simpson,”hesaid.“Wearegoingonaprivateexcursion.Iwilldrivethecar.”“Verygood,sir.Itisfullofpetrol,butIwasgoingtodustit.”Iwasallsmilesabove,andallbinocularsbelow.“Verywell.”Hewavedmeoffinhishighhandedway.“Thecarmust

behereinhalfanhour.”“Yes,sir.”I drove round the courtyard into the garage, and hid the binoculars

behindanemptyoildrumbefore Igave thecara flickoverwithawetduster.Just before ten I drove it to the courtyard and left it therewith the

ignitionkeyin.Then,Iwentbacktotheyard,throughthedoorintotheorchard,andfoundaplacefromwhichIcouldseethecarwithoutbeingseen.Whentheywentout,Iwantedtomakesurethattheyhadallgone—Fischer,Harper,MissLipp,andMiller.After fortyminutesor so,all four cameoutandgot into thecar.As

soonastheyhadgone,Iwenttothekitchen.Gevenwastherechoppingmeat and sipping brandy. I had a drinkmyself and let him talk for awhile before askingwhether theywere expected back for lunch. Theywerenot.Hewouldmakeanomeletpourlepersonnel.Iwentupstairstothebedroomfloor.Attheheadofthebackstairsthe

corridor ran leftand right,parallel to the rearwallof thevilla. Ifyouturned right,youcame tomy roomandGeven’s, amongothers; ifyouturnedleft,youwerefacedbyapairofdoubledoors.Beyondthemwerethemasterbedroomsandguestsuites.The double doors were half open when I went up. Through the

opening, I caughtaglimpseofawickerwork trolley fullofdirty linen,and of old Hamul working on the floor of the corridor with a carpetsweeper.Mrs.Hamulwaspresumablychangingthesheetsonthebeds.Iwenttomyroom,waitedanhour,andthenstrolledbackalongthe

corridor.Thedoorwas still open and theHamulswere stillmessing about in

thebedrooms. Iwentdownto thekitchenandhadanotherdrinkwithGeven.Hewasbusywiththestewpotandanotherhourwentbybeforehedecidedtomaketheomelet.IheardtheHamulscomedownataboutthesametimeandgothroughtothelaundry.AssoonasIhadfinishedeating,ItoldGeventhatIwasgoingtohaveasleepandwentupstairsagain.First,IlockedmyroomfromtheoutsideincasehelookedintoseeifI

werethere;thenIwentthroughthedoubledoorsandshutthembehindme.What I was looking for was the map, and it was difficult to know

wheretostart.Therewereabouteighteenroomsthere,andtheywereofall shapes and sizes. Some were bedrooms, some sitting rooms; someweresosparselyfurnishedthatitwashardtotellwhattheyhadbeen.Wheretherewasfurniture,itwasallinthesamebilious-lookingFrench-hotel style. The only things not in short supply were mirrors andchandeliers;everyroomhadthose.I identifiedMiller’s room first, becausehis suitcasewasopenon thebed,thenFischer’sbecauseoftheshirtsinoneofthedrawers.Ifoundnomapineitherroom.MissLipp’ssuitewasoverthecenterportico,withHarper’snexttoitonthecorner.Therewasaconnectingdoor.Ilookedthroughall thedrawers and cupboards, I looked inside the suitcases, Ilookedaboveandbeloweverypieceoffurniture.TheonlymapsIfoundwere inacopyofEuropaTouring thatwasonMissLipp’swritingdesk,alongwithsomeItalianpaperbacknovels.BeyondHarper’ssuite,andonthesideofthebuildingoverlookingtheorchard,therewasaroomthathadbeenfittedupasastudio.Architect’sdrawershadbeenbuiltalongonewall. It seemedagoodplaceto lookfor a large flat map, and I was carefully going through every drawerwhenIheardthesoundofcardoorsslamming.IscrambledthroughHarper’sbedroom,whichhadwindowsontothecourtyard,andsawtheroofoftheLincolninfrontoftheportico.ThenIpanicked. Imissed thedoorwhich led to the passage and got intohisbathroominstead.BythetimeIhadfoundtherightdoor, IcouldhearFischer’s voice from the stairs. It was hopeless to try to dodge roundthrough the rooms. Ididn’tknow thewaywell enough.All I coulddowasretreatbackthroughHarper’sbedroomintothestudioandshutthedoor. From there, there was no other way out, except through thewindow;butitwastheonlyhidingplaceIcouldfind.Iheardhimcomeintotheroom,thenaclinkofmoney,thenasortofslap.Hewasemptyinghispocketsontothetable.Thedoordidn’tlatchproperlyand I couldhear everymovehemade. I knew thathewouldhearanymoveImade,too.Ifrozethere.“MyGod,thatcity’sworsethanNewYorkinAugust,”hesaid.IheardMissLippanswerhim.Thedoorconnectingthesuites,whichIhadshut,musthavebeenopenedbyher.“IwonderifHamulfixedthatwater.Undome,willyou,Liebchen?”Hemovedaway.Itiptoedovertothestudiowindowandlookedout.

Therewasasmallbalconyoutsideand,afewfeetbelow,theroofoftheterrace.IfIcouldgetdownthere,Ithoughtitmightbepossibletoreachthe orchard without breakingmy neck. The trouble was that I wouldhave to open the frenchwindow to get to the balcony. It had one ofthoselongdoubleboltsthatyouworkbytwistingahandleinthecenter.Theycanmakeaclatteringnoisewhen they springopen,and thisonelookedasifitwould.Iwentbacktothedoor.Itsoundedasiftheywereinhissittingroom.Iheardhergiveasoft

chuckle.“Toomanyclotheson,”shesaid.He came back into the bedroom and, then, after amoment or two,

wentintothebathroom.Waterbegantorun.Iwenttothewindowagainandgingerlytriedthehandle.Itmovedeasilyenough.Thebottomboltslidoutandthedoorsprang inwardwithaslight thud;but thenIsawthat one side of the connecting linkwas broken and that the top bolthadn’t moved. I tried to pull it down by hand, but it was too stiff. Iwouldhave to push it down through the slot at the top. I put a chairagainstthewindowandlookedaboutforsomethingmetalIcouldusetopushwith.Thenoise of runningwater from thebathroom stopped, and I stood

stillagain.ItriedtothinkwhatIhadinmypocketsthatmightmovethebolt;akeyperhaps.“Iwillhave todo somethingaboutmy tanwhenwegetback,” said

MissLipp.Shewasinthenextroomnow.“It’sholdingup.”“Yourhair’swet.”Silence,thenadeepsighfromherandthebedcreaked.For about twominutes I clung to the hope that theywere going to

havea siesta.Thenmovementsbegan.Afterawhile I couldhear theirbreathing and itwasn’t the breathing of sleep.Moreminuteswent byand there were other sounds. Then, the beast with two backs was atwork,andsoonitwasmakingitsusualnoises,pantingandgruntingandmoaning,whileIstoodtherelikeahalf-wit,picturingherlonglegsandslimthighsandwonderinghowonearthIwasgoingtogetoutoftherewithoutanybodyseeingme.Iwassweatingsomuchthatitwasrunningintomyeyesandmistingmyglasses.Icouldn’thaveseentogettheboltopenjustthen,evenifIhaddaredtotry.

They seemed to go on interminably; but the noisy finales arrived atlast. I waited, hopefully, for them to go to their bathrooms; but theydidn’t.Therewasjustalongsilence,untilIheardhimsay:“Here,”andalighterclicked.Anothersilence,untilhebrokeit.“Whereshallweeattonight?”“LesBaux.Iwillhavethefeuilletéderisdeveau.You?”“Avallon,MoulindesRuats,thecoqauvin.”“WiththeCuvéeduDocteur?”“Ofcourse.Thoughrightnow,frankly, I’dsettle forahamsandwich

andaglassofbeer.”“It’s not for long, Liebchen. I wonder who told Hans that this man

couldcook.”“He can cook all right, but he’s one of those lushes who has to be

wooed.Ifheisn’t,hegetsintoawhiterageandsays‘Thehellwithyou.’Hansdoesn’tknowhowtohandlehim.I’llbetArthureatsbetterthanwedo.Infact,Iknowdamnwellhedoes.Where’stheashtray?”“Here.”Shegiggled.“Careful!”“Merde,alors!”“Thatisnottheplaceforanashtray.”Soon itbeganalloveragain.Eventually,when theywereexhausted,

theydidhavethedecencytogotothebathrooms.Whilethewaterwasrunning,Igotupontothechairandworkedontheboltwithmyroomkey. By the time he had finished in the bathroom, I had the windowunlatched.Ihadtowaitthenuntiltheywereasleep;thoughitwasnotuntil I heardher voice again that I knew that shehad returned tohisbed.“Liebchen,”shesaiddrowsily.“Whatisit?”Hewashalfasleep,too.“Becareful,please,tomorrow.”“Entendu.”Therewas the soundof a kiss. I looked atmywatch. Itwas twenty

past three. I gave them tenminutes, then carefully edged over to thewindowandpulledonesideopen.IdiditveryslowlybecausetherewasaslightbreezeoutsideandIdidnotwantthedrafttoopenthebedroomdoorwhileIwasstillthere.ThenIedgedmywayoutontothebalcony.Itwasafour-footdroptotheroofoftheterraceandImadescarcely

anynoisegettingdown.Ihadmoretroubleattheendoftheterrace. I

amreallynotbuilt forclimbing,and I tried touse the trellisworkasastepladder. It gaveway, and I slithered to the ground clutching at thebranchesofanespalieredpeachtree.ImanagedtogettomyroomwithoutanyoneseeingthemessIwasin.When Ihadcleanedupandchangedmyshirt, Iwentdown to thecarandputitawayinthegarage.If Ihadnoticedthenthat thedoorpanelshadbeentakenoff, thingswouldhaveturnedoutverydifferentlyforHarper,Lipp,andMiller;butIdidn’tnotice.Itdidn’tevenoccurtometolookatthem.Iwasstilltooflusteredtodoanythingexcepttrytobehavenaturally.Garagingthecarwasjustawayofshowingmyselfoutsideandonthejob.Iwentbackintothekitchen.Therewasnobodythere.IfoundabottleofGeven’s brandy and had a drink and a cigarette.When Iwas quitecalmagain,Iwentoutandwalkeddownthedrivetotheroad.TheOpelwasparkednearthefishing-boatpier.Istrolledacrosstoitandsawthemeninsidewatchingme.AsIpassed,Isaid:“Tufan.”WhenIhadgoneonafewpacesIheardacardooropen.Amomentorsolateramanfellinstepbesideme.“What is it?” He was a dark, hard-eyed police type in an oatmeal-coloredshirtwithbuttonedpockets.HespokeinFrench.“Somethingdangerousistobeattemptedtomorrow,”Isaid.“Idonotknowwhat. Ioverheardpartofaconversation.MajorTufanshouldbeinformed.”“Verywell.Whydidyounotdrivetoday?”“TheytoldmeIwasn’tneeded.Wheredidtheygo?”“To Istanbul, Beyoglu. They drove to a garage by the SpanishConsulate. It is a garage that has spare parts for American cars. Thedriver,Fischer, remainedtherewith thecar for tenminutes.Theothertwomen and thewomanwalked to the DivanHotel. They had lunchthere.Fischer joinedthemthereandalsohadlunch.Thentheywalkedback to thegarage,pickedup thecar,and returnedhere.MajorTufansaysthatyouaretoreportonachartlater.”“If Ican.TellhimImadeasearchof thebedroomswhile theywereout, but couldnot find the chart. Iwill try to search the living roomstonight.ItmaybequitelatebeforeIcanreport.Willyoubehere?”“Someonewillbe.”“Allright.”

Aswe turnedandwalkedback towards theOpel, I crossed the roadand re-entered the drive. I had something to think about now. Fromwhat I had overheard in the courtyard the night before, I knew thatFischer had some special task to perform that day. Had he alreadyperformedit,orwasityettobeperformed?DrivingthecarintoIstanbulsothatheandtheotherscouldhavesomeeatablefooddidn’tseemveryspecial.On theotherhand, itwasodd that I shouldhavebeen told tostaybehind,andoddaboutthatvisit tothegarage.Therewasnothingwrongwiththecaranditneedednospareparts.AndwhyhadFischernot walked to the Divan with the other three? Why had he stayedbehind?ItisobviousthatIshouldhavethoughtofthecardoorsfirst.Ididn’tdo so for a very simple reason: I knew from personal experience howlongittooktoremoveandreplaceonepanel,andFischerhadnotbeenat the garage long enough to empty one door, let alone four. Thepossibility that his functionmight have been to give orders instead ofdoingtheactualworkdidn’toccurtome,then.And,Imaysay,itdidn’toccur to Tufan at all. If it had, I should have been spared a ghastlyexperience.Anyway,whenIwentbackthroughtheyardtotakealookatthecar,mymindwasonspareparts.Ilookedintheluggagecompartmentfirstto see if anything had been stowed away there; then I examined theengine.Youcanusuallytellbythesmudgesandoilsmearswhenworkhasbeendoneonanengine.Idrewablank,ofcourse.Itwasn’tuntilIopened the door to see if anything had been left in the glovecompartmentthatIsawthescratches.Whoever had taken the panels off hadmade the verymistake I hadbeen so careful to avoid; he had used an ordinary screwdriver on thePhillipsheads.Therewere scratches andbrightmarks on themetal aswellascutsintheleatherwherethetoolhadslipped.Ofcourse,nobodywouldhavenoticedthemonacasualinspection,butIwassoconsciousof thepanelsandwhat Ihadseenbehindthemthat theslightestmarkstoodout.Iwentoverallfourandknewatoncethattheyhadallbeentakenoffandreplaced.Ialsoknew,fromthedifferentfeelofthedoorswhen I swung them on their hinges, that the heavy thingswhich hadbeenconcealedinsidewerenolongerthere.Presumably,theyhadbeenremovedinthegarageneartheSpanishConsulate.Wheretheywereat

thatmomentwasanybody’sguess.IwonderedwhetherIshouldgodowntotheroadagainimmediately

andreporttothesurveillancecar,orwaituntilIreportedlateraboutthemap. I decided to wait. If the stuff was still in the garage, it wouldprobablystillbethereinthemorning.If,asseemedmorelikely,ithadalready been moved somewhere else, then the damage was done andtwoorthreehourswouldmakenodifference.Anyway,Ididn’twanttogobackdowntotheroad.IfeltthatIhadrunenoughrisksforonedayalready;andIstillhadtogolookingforthatdamnedmap.IthinkIdidthesensiblething.Ican’tstandpeoplewhoarewiseaftertheevent,butitmustbeobviousnowthat itwasTufanwhomadetherealmistakes,notme.ThetroublewithGevenbeganwhilewewereinthekitcheneatingour

dinner; or, rather, while I was eating and he was putting awaymorebrandy. Itwas about seveno’clock, andhehadbeendrinking steadilysince six. In thathourhemusthavehadnearlya thirdofabottle.Hewasn’tyetquitedrunk;buthewascertainlyfarfromsober.Hehadmadeaperfectlydeliciousrisottowithfinelychoppedchicken

livers and pimientos in it. I was on my second helping and trying topersuadehimtoeatwhathehadonhisplate,whenFischercamein.“Geven!”Gevenlookedupandgavehimhiswetsmile.“VivelaCompagnie,”he

saidconvivially,andreachedforadirtyglass.“Unpetitverre,monsieur?”Fischerignoredtheinvitation.“Iwishtoknowwhatyouarepreparing

fordinnertonight,”hesaid.“It isprepared.”Gevengavehimadismissivewaveofhishandand

turnedtomeagain.“Thenyoucantellmewhatitis.”AtthatmomentFischercaughtsight

ofmyplate.“Ah,Isee.Arisotto,eh?”Geven’s lipquivered.“Thatis forusservants.Forthemasterandhis

gueststhereisamoreimportantdishinthemannerofthecountry.”“Whatdish?”“Youwouldnotunderstand.”“Iwishtoknow.”Gevenanswered inTurkish. Iunderstoodonewordofwhathe said:

kuzu,babylamb.Tomysurprise,andtoGeven’s, too, I think,Fischeransweredinthe

samelanguage.Gevenstoodupandshoutedsomething.Fischer shoutedback, and thenwalked from the roombeforeGeven

hadtimetoanswer.Gevensatdownagain,hislowerlipquiveringsoviolentlythat,when

he tried to drain his glass,most of the brandy ran down his chin.Herefilledtheglassandgloweredatme.“Pislik!”hesaid.“Domuz!”ThosearerudewordsinTurkish.Igatheredthattheyweremeantfor

Fischer,soIsaidnothingandgotonwithmyfood.Herefilledmyglassandshovedittowardsme.“Atoast,”hesaid.“Allright.”“There’llbenopromotionthissideoftheocean,sodrinkup,mylads,

bless’emall!”Onlyhedidn’tsay“bless.”Ihadforgottenthathehadbeeneducated

inCypruswhenitwasunderBritishrule.“Drink!”Idrank.“Bless’emall.”Hebegantosing.“BlessallthesergeantsandW.O.ones,blessallthe

corporalsandtheirbleedingsons!Drink!”Isipped.“Bless’emall.”He drained the glass again and leaned across the chopping table

breathingheavily.“Itellyou,”hesaidmenacingly;“ifthatbastardsaysonemoreword,Ikillhim.”“He’sjustafool.”“Youdefendhim?”Thelowerlipquivered.“No,no.Butisheworthkilling?”Hepouredhimselfanotherdrink.Bothlipswereworkingnow,asifhe

hadbroughtanotherthoughtagencyintoplayinordertograpplewiththeunfamiliardilemmamyquestionhadcreated.TheHamulsarrivedjustthentopreparefortheserviceoftheevening

meal, and I saw the old man’s eyes take in the situation. He begantalkingtoGeven.HespokeacountrydialectandIcouldn’tevengetthedrift ofwhathewas saying;but it seemed to improvematters a little.Geven grinned occasionally and even laughed once. However, he stillwentondrinking,and,whenItriedtoslipawaytomyroom,therewasasuddenflareoftemper.

“Whereyougo?”“Youhaveworktodohere.Iamintheway.”“You sitdown.Youaremyguest in thekitchen.Youdrinknothing.

Why?”I had a whole tumblerful of brandy in front of me by now. I took

anothersip.“Drink!”IdrankandtriedtolookasifIwereenjoyingmyself.Whenhewasn’t

looking,Imanagedtotiphalfthebrandyinmyglassdownthesink.Itdidn’t do much good. As soon as he noticed the half-empty glass, hefilleditupagain.Dinnerhadbeenorderedforeight-thirty,andbythenhewasweaving.

ItwasMrs.Hamulwhodidthedishingup.Heleanedagainsttherange,glass in hand, smiling benignly onherwhile she ladled the loathsomecontents of the stewpot onto the service platters. Dinner was finallyserved.“Bless’emall!”“Bless’emall!”“Drink!”Atthatmomenttherewasanindistinctshoutfromthedirectionofthe

diningroom.Thenadooralongthepassagewasflungopen,andtherewere quick footsteps. I heardMiss Lipp call out: “Hans!”ThenFischercameintothekitchen.Hewascarryingaplatefuloffood.AsGeventurnedunsteadilytoconfronthim,Fischeryelledsomething

inTurkishandthenflungtheplatestraightathishead.TheplatehitGevenontheshoulderandthencrashedtothefloor;but

quitealotoffoodwentontohisface.Gravyrandownhissmock.Fischer was still shouting. Geven stared at him stupidly. Then, as

Fischerflungafinalinsultandturnedtogo,amostpeculiarexpressioncameoverGeven’sface.Itwasalmostlikeawide-eyedsmile.“Monsieurest servi,”he said.At the same instant, I sawhishanddartout for thechoppingknife.IshoutedawarningtoFischer,buthewasalreadyoutinthepassage.

Geven was after him in a flash. By the time I got through the door,Fischerwasalreadybackingawayandyellingforhelp.Therewasbloodstreaming from a gash on his face and he had his hands up trying toprotecthimself.Gevenwashackingandslashingathimlikeamadman.

AsIranforwardandclungontothearmwieldingthechoppingknife,Harpercameintothepassagefromthediningroom.“Sendenillâllah!”bawledGeven.ThenHarperhithiminthesideoftheneckandhewentdownlikean

emptysack.Fischer’sarmsandhandswerepouringbloodnow,andhestoodthere

lookingdownatthemasiftheydidnotbelongtohim.Harperglancedatme.“Getthecararound,quick.”Istoppedthecaratthefootofthestepsandwentinthroughthefront

ofthehouse.Itdidnotseemtobeamomentforstandingonceremony.Fischer was sitting in a marble-floored washroom just off the main

hall.HarperandMissLippwerewrappinghishandsandarmsintowels;Millerwas trying to stanch the facewound.TheHamulswere runningroundincircles.HarpersawmeandmotionedtoHamul.“Asktheoldguywherethe

nearestdoctoris.Notahospital,aprivatedoctor.”“Iwillaskhim,”mutteredFischer.Hisfacewasadirtygray.IcaughtHamul’sarmandshovedhimforward.ThereweretwodoctorsinSariyer,hesaid,butthenearestwasoutside

Bülyükdere intheotherdirection.Hewouldcometothevilla ifcalledbytelephone.HarpershookhisheadwhenFischertoldhimthis.“We’llgotohim,”

hesaid.“We’llgivehimfivehundredliraandtellhimyoutrippedoveranelectricfan.Thatshouldfixit.”HelookedatMissLipp.“YouandLeohadbetterstayhere,honey.Thefewer,thebetter.”Shenodded.“I don’t know theway to this doctor’s house,” I said. “Maywe take

Hamulasaguide?”“Okay.”Harper sat in the back with Fischer and a supply of fresh towels;

Hamulcameinfrontwithme.Thedoctor’shousewastwomilesalongthecoastroad.Whenwegot

there,FischertoldHamultowaitoutsideinthecarwithme;soitwasnotpossibleformetowalkbackandtellthemenintheOpelwhatwasgoing on. Presumably, they would find out from the doctor later on.Hamulfingeredtheleatheroftheseatforawhile,thencurleduponitandwenttosleep.ItriedtoseeifIcouldgetoutwithoutwakinghim,

butthesoundofthedooropeningmadehimsitupinstantly.Afterthat,I just sat there and smoked. I suppose that I should have written acigarette packet message about the car doors and dropped it then—Hamulwouldn’thavenoticedthat—butatthatpointIstillthoughtthatIwasgoingtobeabletomakeaverbalreportlater.Theywereinsidewelloveranhour.Whenhecameout,Fischerdidn’t

looktoobadatfirstsight.Thecutonhisfacehadalintdressingneatlytapedover it, andhis left armwas resting ina small slingof thekindthatsuggestscomfortforaminorsprainratherthanaseriousinjury.Butwhenhegot closer I could see thatbothhishandsand forearmswerequiteextensivelybandaged,andthatthelefthandwascuppedroundathickpadtapedsoastoimmobilizethefingers.Igotoutandopenedthedoorforhim.Hesmelledofdisinfectantandsurgicalspirit.HeandHarpergotinwithoutaword,andremainedsilentontheway

backtothevilla.MillerandMissLippwerewaitingontheterrace.AsIpulledupinto

thecourtyard,theycamedownthesteps.IopenedthedoorforFischer.Hegotoutandwalkedpastthemintothehouse.Still,nothingwassaid.Hamulwasalreadymakingforhisownquartersattheback.MillerandMissLippcameuptoHarper.“How is he?” Miller asked. There was nothing solicitous about the

question.Itwasagrimrequestforinformation.“The left handhas seven stitches onone cut, four on another,more

stitchesonthearm.Therightforearmhassevenstitches.Theothercutsweren’t so deep. The doctor was able to tape those up. He gave himsome shots and a sedative.”His eyeswent toMiss Lipp. “Where’s thecook?”“Gone,” she said.“Whenhewokeup,heasked ifhecouldgo tohis

room.Welethim.Hejustpackedhisthingsandwentoffonthatscooterofhis.Wedidn’ttrytostophim.”Henodded.“ButaboutFischer…”Millerbegan,histeethshowingasifhewanted

toeatsomeone.Harperbrokeinfirmly.“Let’sgoinside,Leo.”Heturnedtome.“You

canputthecarawayfornow,Arthur,butImaywantitagainlatertodrive toPendik,soyoustickaround.Makeyourself somecoffee in thekitchen,thenI’llknowwheretofindyou.”

“Verygood,sir.”WhenIgottothekitchenIfoundthatsomeone,Mrs.Hamulnodoubt,hadwashedthedishesandcleanedtheplaceup.Thecharcoal firesonthe rangewerenotquitedead,but Imadenoattempt to reviveone. Ifoundabottleofredwineandopenedthat.Iwasgettinganxious. Itwasnearlyten-thirtyandtheradiocallwasdueateleven;but Ididn’t somuchmindmissinganotherEssentialyoureport progress; it was the undelivered report on the car doors thatbotheredme.Obviously,Fischer’sgettinghurthadthrownsomesortofwrench into theworks and changes of planwerebeingmade. If thosechanges meant that I was going to be up all night driving Harper toPendik and back, I would have to deliver themessage via a cigarettepacketafterall.Iwentintothescullery,incaseHarpershouldsuddenlycome into the kitchen, and wrote the message—Car doors now empty,checkgoragenearSpanishConsulate—onapieceofpapertornoffashelflining. I feltbetterwhen Ihaddone that.Myotherassignment for thenight,thesearchforthemysteriousmap,didn’tworrymeatall.Infact,though itmay seem funnynow,at thatpoint in theproceedings Ihadcompletelyforgottenaboutit.Itwasaftereleven-thirtyandIhadfinishedthelastofthewine,whentherewas thesoundofadooropeningandHarpercamethroughfromthediningroom.Igottomyfeet.“Sorrytokeepyouupthislate,Arthur,”hesaid;“butMr.MillerandIare having a friendly argument, and we want you to help us decidewho’sright.Comein.”I followedhim through thedining room,andalongapassage to theroominwhichIhadseenthemthepreviousnight.It was L-shaped and even bigger than I had thought. When I hadlooked through thewindows,all Ihadseenhadbeen the shortarmoftheL.The longarmwentall thewayto themainentrancehall.Therewas a low platform with a concert-size grand piano on it. The roomlookedasifithadbeenusedatsometimefor“musicalsoirées.”Miss LippandMillerwere sitting at the librarydesk. Fischerwas inthe background, sitting in an armchair with his head thrown back sothathestaredattheceiling.Ithoughtforamomentthathehadpassedout, but as I came in he slowly raised his head and stared atme. Helookedterrible.

“Sitdown,Arthur.”HarpermotionedmetoachairfacingMiller.I sat down.Miss LippwaswatchingMiller.Millerwaswatchingmethroughhis rimless glasses. The toothy smilewas there as ever, but itwas the most unamused smile I have ever seen; it was more like agrimace.Harperleanedagainstthebackofthesettee.“It’s really two problems, Arthur,” he said. “Tellme this. How longdoes it taketoget toPendikat this timeofnight?Thesameasduringtheday?”“Less,perhaps;butitwoulddependontheferrytoUskudar.”“Howoftendoesthatrunatnight?”“Everyhour,sir.”“Soifwemissedoneitcouldtakeuswellovertwohours?”“Yes.”He looked at Miller. “Two hours to Pendik, two hours to persuadeGiulio,twomorehourstopersuadeEnrico…”“Ifhewouldbepersuaded,”MissLippputin.Harper nodded. “Of course. And then two hours back. Not a veryrestfulnight,Leo.”“Thenpostpone,”Millersnapped.Harpershookhishead.“Theoverheads,Leo.Ifwepostpone,itmeansabandon.Whatwillourfriendssaytothat?”“Itisnottheirnecks.”MillerlookedresentfullyatFischer.“Ifyouhadnot…”hebegan,butHarpercuthimoffsharply.“We’vebeenoverallthat,Leo.Now,whydon’tyouatleastgiveitawhirl?”Millershrugged.Harper looked atme. “Wewant tomake an experiment,Arthur.Doyoumindgoingoverthereandstandingagainstthewallwithyourbackagainstit?”“Overhere?”“That’sright.Yourbacktouchingthewall.”HewentovertoFischer,pickedupa lengthof thick cordwhichwas lyingacross thebandagedhands, and threw one end of it to me. I saw that the other end wasattachedtoalegofthesettee.“Nowhere’swhatitis,Arthur,”hewenton;“I’vetoldMr.Millerthatyoucanpullthatsetteesixfeettowardsyoujust with the strength of your arms. Of course, your back’s leaning

againstthewall,soyoucan’tuseyourweighttohelpyou.Ithastobejustyourarms.Mr.Millersaysyoucan’tdoit,andhe’sgotahundred-dollar bill that sayshe’s right. I’ve got one that sayshe’swrong. If hewins,Ipay.IfIwin,youandIsplitfifty-fifty.Howaboutit?”“I’lltry,”Isaid.“Verywell,begin,”saidMiller.“Yourshouldersagainstthewall,yourheels notmore than ten centimeters from it and together.”HemovedoversothathecouldseethatIdidn’tcheat.Ihavealwaysdetestedthatkindofparlortrick; infact, Idislikeanysortoftrialofphysicalstrength.TheyalwaysremindmeofalotofboysIoncesawintheschoollavatories.Theywerestandinginarowseeingwhocouldurinatethefarthest.Suddenlytheystartedlaughingandthenbegantoaimateachother.Ihappenedtogetinthewayanditwasveryunpleasant. In my opinion, rugger is the same kind of thing—justchildish,smelly,homosexualhorseplay.IalwaysgotoutofitwheneverIcould.Today,anysortofexercisebringsonmyindigestionimmediately.Frankly,then,Ididn’tthinkthattherewastheslightestchanceofmybeing able to pull that heavy settee one foot,much less six. I am notparticularlystronginthearmsanyway.WhyshouldIbe?Ihaveenoughstrengthtoliftasuitcaseanddriveacar;whatmoredoIwant?“Goon,”saidMiller.“Pullwithallyourstrength!”Ishouldhavedoneashesaidandfallenflatonmyface.Then,Harperwouldhave lost ahundreddollars, and I shouldhavebeen spared theordeal.ButMissLipphadtointerfere.“Justaminute,Arthur,”shesaid;“ItriedthisandIcouldn’tdoit.Butyou’reamanwithagoodpairofshouldersonyou,andIthinkyoucandoit.”EvenifIhadneverheardherusethephrase“indignantsheep”aboutme, Iwouldhaveknownthisheavy-handedguile forwhat itwas. Idonothaveagoodpairof shouldersonme. Ihavenarrow, slopingones.Womenwhothinktheycangetawaywiththatchildishsortof flatterymakeme sick. I was really annoyed. Unfortunately, thatmademe gored. She smiled. I suppose she thought I was blushing because of herbloodycompliment.“I’mnotmuchgoodatthissortofgame,”Isaid.“The thing is topull on the cord steadily,Arthur.Don’t jerk it. Pullsteadily, and when it starts moving, keep pulling steadily hand over

hand.It’saneasyfiftydollars.Iknowyoucandoit.”Iwasgettingreallybrownedoffwithhernow.“Allright,youbitch,”Ithought tomyself;“I’ll showyou!”So Idid theexactoppositeofwhatshe’dsaid.IjerkedonthecordashardasIcould.The settee moved a few inches; but, of course, what I’d done byjerkingit,wastogetthefeetoutofthedentsthey’dmadeforthemselvesin the thick carpet. After that, I just kept on pulling and it slid somemore.AsitgotneareritbecameeasierbecauseIwaspullingupaswellasalong.HarperlookedatMiller.“Whataboutit,Leo?”Millerfeltmyarmsandshouldersasifhewerebuyingahorse.“Heisflabby,outofcondition,”hesaidsourly.“Buthedidthetrick,”Harperremindedhim.Millerspreadouthishandsasiftoabandontheargument.Harper took a note from his wallet. “Here, Arthur,” he said, “fiftydollars.”Hepausedandthenwentonquietly:“Howwouldliketoearntwothousand?”Istaredathim.“Sitdown,”hesaid.Isatdownandwasgladtodoso.Mylegsweretrembling.WithtwothousanddollarsIcouldbuyaCentralAmericanpassportthatwouldbegoodforyears;and itwouldbearealpassport, too. Iknow,because Ihave looked into suchmatters.As longasyoudon’tactuallygo to thecountryconcerned, there’sno troubleatall.You justbuythepassport.That’sthewaytheirconsulsabroadlinetheirpockets.Ofcourse,Iknewit was all a pipe dream. Even if I did whatever it was they wanted,Harperwasn’tgoingtobeinapositiontopayme,becausethechanceswere that Tufan would have him in jail by then. Still, it was a gooddream.“I’dlikethatverymuch,”Isaid.Theywereallwatchingmeintentlynow.“Don’tyouwanttoknowwhatyouhavetodoforit?”Harperasked.I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me. I sat back. “What Mr.Fischerwas going to do, I suppose,” I answered; “that is, if he hadn’tthatlittleaccidentthisevening.”MissLipp laughed. “I toldyouArthurwasn’tas simpleashe looks,”shesaid.

“Whatelsedoyouknow,Arthur?”ThiswasHarperagain.“Only what Miss Lipp told me, sir—that you are all very sensible,

tolerantpersons,whoareverybroad-mindedaboutthingsthat the lawdoesn’talwaysapproveof,butwhodon’tliketakingrisks.”“Itoldyouallthat,Arthur?”Shepretendedtobesurprised.“ItwaswhatIgathered,MissLipp.”Harper smiled.“All right,Arthur,”he said;“supposewe just leave it

there.Wehaveadeal.”“IthinkI’mentitledtoknowalittlemorethanthat.”“And you will, Arthur. We’ll be leaving here tomorrow afternoon

aroundthree,bagspackedandeverythingbecausewewon’tbecomingback.Beforewegoyou’llhaveacompletebriefing.Anddon’tworry.Allyou have to do is just pull on a rope at the right place and time.Everythingelseistakencareof.”“Isthisapolicematter?”“It would be if they knew about it, but they don’t. I told you, you

don’thavetoworry.Believeme,you’vetakenbiggerrisksinAthensforalotlessthantwothousand.”“Onthatsubject,sir,IthinkIamnowentitledtohavemyletterback.”HarperlookedquestioninglyatMillerandFischer.Thelatterbeganto

talkinGerman.Hespokeslowlyandwearilynow,andIguessedthatthesedative had taken effect, but his attitude was clear enough. So wasMiller’s.Harperturnedtomeandshookhisheadregretfully.“I’msorry,Arthur,that’llhavetowait.Infact,myfriendsseemtofeel

thatyoumaybequiteasecurityriskforthenexttwelvehoursorso.”“Idon’tunderstand.”“Sureyoudo.”Hegrinned.“I’llbettheidea’sbeenchurningaroundin

thatcutelittlebrainofyoursforthelastfiveminutes.‘Iftwohandsonaropeareworthtwothousanddollarstothesepeople,whatwouldatip-offbeworthtothepolice?’”“Iassureyou…”“Of course you do, Arthur. I was only kidding.” His tonewas quite

friendly.“Butyouseetheproblem.Weliketofeelsafe.Eventhatletterdoesn’tmeanmuchhere.Doyouhavethecarkeys?”“Yes.”“Letmehavethem.”Ihandedthemtohim.

“Youseewewouldn’twantyoutohavesecondthoughtsandmaybewalkoutonus,”heexplained.“Andwewouldnotlikehimtousethetelephone,”saidMiller.“That’s right.”Harper thought foramoment.“Hans isgoing toneed

helpundressing,”hesaid;“andthedoctor’sgivenhimanotherantibiotichehastotake.IthinkitwouldbebestifwemadeupanextrabedinhisroomandArthursleptthere.”“So that he can kill me when I am helpless and get out by the

window?”Fischerdemandedthickly.“Oh,Idon’tthinkArthurwoulddothat.Wouldyou,Arthur?”“Ofcoursenot.”“That’s right. But we don’t want Hans to be worrying, do we? The

doctorsayshereallyneedstosleep.Andyoushouldhaveagoodnight’ssleep, too, Arthur. You won’t get any tomorrow night. You wouldn’tmind taking a couple of good strong sleeping pills, would you? Ormaybeeventhree?”Ihesitated.“Oh, theywon’thurt you,Arthur.”Miss Lippgavemea fond smile.

“I’ll tellyouwhat. Ifyou’llbeagoodboyand takeyourpills, I’ll takeone,too.We’llallneedoursleeptomorrow.”WhatcouldIsay?

9

Myheadfeltasifithadbeenstuffedwithsteelwool.Therewasevenametallictasteinmymouth.IttookmesometimetorememberwhereIwas.Icouldhearaloudbuzzingnoise.When,atlast,Imanagedtoopenmyeyes,IsawFischer.Thebuzzingcamefromanelectricshaverwhichhewasholding,awkwardly,inhisrighthand.Mybedconsistedofamattressonthefloorandtheblanketsfrommy

oldroom.Irolledoffthemattressandgottomyfeetunsteadily.Fischergavemeadisagreeablelook.“Yousnorelikeapig,”hesaid.Hehadashirtandslackson,Iwasgladtosee;HarperorMillermust

have helped him. Undressing him, the night before, had been anunpleasanttask.Ithadmeanttouchinghim,andIhatetouchinganyoneIdislike—anothermanespecially.“What’sthetime?”Iasked.Theyhadtakeneverythingfrommeaftertheyhadmademeswallow

thesleepingpills,evenmywatch.AllIhadbeenallowedhadbeenmypajamacoat.“Abouteleven,”heanswered.“Yourclotheshavebeenput in there.”

Heindicatedadoor.Iwentthroughandfoundmyselfinoneofthepartlyfurnishedrooms

Ihadseenthedaybefore.Mythingswerepiledonabrowncut-velvetchaise longue. Idisposedofaminoranxiety first.Thecigarettepacketwith the message inside it was still in my hip pocket and apparentlyundetected. I left itwhere itwas.Withany luck, I thought, Imightbeabletoaddtoit.Mypaperswerethere.Theradiowasinitscase.FromthebedroomFischersaid:“Ihave finishedwiththisbathroom.

Youmayuseit.”“IthinkIwillgoandgetsomecoffeefirst.”“Thenbringallyourpapersandmoneyinhere.”

Therewasnopointinarguing.Ididashesaid,putsometrouserson,andfoundmywaydownstairstothekitchen.Mrs. Hamul was there. The sight of the hired driver unshaven andwearingapajamajacketateleveninthemorningmusthaveseemedoddtoher.ShelookedatmeasifIwereravingmad.Iaskedherforcoffee.Shegavemetea,andsomeofthepreviousday’sbreadtoasted.Theteawasn’tbad.Myheadbegantoclear.As Iate thetoast, Iwondered if IcouldmusterenoughTurkishtopersuadeherorherhusbandtotakeamessagetothesurveillancepeopleontheroad.ThenMissLippcamein,wellgroomedandverychicinwhiteandyellowstripes.“Goodmorning,Arthur.Howdoyoufeel?”“Goodmorning,MissLipp.Ifeelterrible,thankyou.”“Yes,youlookit,butIexpectyou’ll feelbetterwhenyou’vecleanedupabit.What’stheTurkishfor‘eggs’?”“Yumurta,Ithink.”Mrs. Hamul heard the word and they began a sign-languageconversationabouteggs.Iwentbackupstairs.Miller was helping Fischer to pack. I slipped the empty cigarettepacket and a pencil intomy shaving kit andwent into the bathroom.Therewasa lockon thedoor.Whilemybathwas running, Iadded tothemessage Ihadwritten thepreviousnight.Amforced replace injuredFischer and closely watched. Event planned for tonight. Details unknown.Millermaybekeyperson.ThebedroomwasemptywhenIreturnedtoit. Idressed,packedmybag,andwentbackdowntothekitchen.Miss Lipp was supervising the Hamuls’ preparations for lunch. ShelookedupasIcamein.“Theothersareoutontheterrace,Arthur,”shesaid.“Whydon’tyougooutthereandgetyourselfadrink?”“Verywell.”Iwentthroughthediningroomintothemainhall.There,Ihesitated.Iwasstilltryingtothinkofawayofgettingdowntotheroadandbackwithout their knowing.As theywere on the terrace, itwas, of course,hopeless to attempt to cross the courtyard. Iwould have to find someway round the back and down through the trees. But thatmight taketwenty minutes or more. And supposing Miss Lipp came out to theterrace and asked where I was? I gave up, and decided to rely upon

droppingthecigarettepacket.The first thing I saw on the terrace was the cardboard box whichHarper had brought back with him from Pendik. It was open anddiscarded on a chair. Harper, Fischer, and Miller were contemplatingsomethinglaidoutacrosstwotables.Itwas a block and tackle, but of a kind I had not seen before. Theblocks were triple-sheaved and made of some light metal alloy. Theyweresosmallthatyoucouldholdbothoftheminonehand.The“rope”wasawhitecordaboutaquarterofaninchindiameterandtherewasalotofit.Onanothertabletherewasathingthatlookedlikeabroadbeltwithhooksateachend,likethoseyouseeondogleashes.Fischerlookedupandstaredatmehaughtily.“MissLipptoldmetocomehereandhaveadrink,”Isaid.Harperwavedtoatablewithbottlesandglassesonit.“Helpyourself.Thenyou’dbetterhavealookatthis.”I gavemyself some raki and lookedat the cordof the tackle. Itwaslikesilk.“Nylon,”Harper said;“breakingstrainovera ton.Whatyouhave torememberaboutitisthatit’salsoslightlyelastic.There’salotofgiveinthistackle.Youknowhowthesethingswork?”“Yes.”“Showme,”saidMiller.Hepickedupthebeltandhooked itaroundone of the terrace pillars. “Show me how you would pull this pillardown.”Ihookedoneblock to thebelt, tied theother to thebalustrade,andpulledonthetackle.“Okay,” said Harper, “that’ll do. Leo, I think you’d better carry thetackle.Arthur’stoofat.It’llshowonhim.Hecantaketheslingandtheanchor rope. I don’t think Hans should carry anything except his gunandthewaterflask.”“ItisonlybecausemyskinisverysensitivethatIobject,”saidMiller.“Well, itwon’t be for long.As soonas you’re insideyou can take itoff.”Millersighedirritablybutsaidnomore.“MayIknowwhatitisIhavetodo?”Iasked.“Justpullonthistackle,Arthur.Oh,youmeanabouttakingthisgearalong? Well, you’ll have to carry that sling”—he indicated the belt

—“andthisextraropehere,woundaroundthatbeautifulbodyofyoursunder your shirt, so that nobody can see it. It’ll be a bit warm for awhile,butyou’llhaveplentyoftimetocooloff.Anyotherquestions?”Ihadadozenandheknewit,butthereisn’tanysenseinaskingwhen

youknowyou’renotgoingtobeanswered.“Whoisgoingtocarrythebag?”askedMiller.“You’dbettertakethat,foldedinyourpocket.”MissLippcameout.“Lunchinthirtyminutes,”shesaid.“Lunch!”Millerlookedsour.“You can eat eggs, Leo. You’ve got to eat something.” She took the

drinkHarperhandedher.“DoesArthurknowthathe’sgoingtohavetowaitforhisdinnertonight?”“Idon’tknowanything,MissLipp,”Isaidcalmly;“butIwillsaythis.I

wastoldthatIwouldbegivenabriefingtoday.Sofar,all Ihavebeengivenisabadattackofnervousindigestion.WhetherIeatdinnerornot,and,forthatmatter,whetherIeatlunchornot,aremattersofcompleteindifferencetome.”Shewentquiteredintheface,andIwonderedforamomentifIhad

said anything offensive; then I realized that the damned woman wastryingnottolaugh.ShelookedatHarper.“Okay,” he said. “Come in here.” He led the way through a french

window into the drawing room. Only Miss Lipp followed with me. IheardFischeraskingMillertopourhimanotherdrinkandMillertellinghimthatheoughttoexercisethehand,notpamperit.Then,Inolongerlistened.Harperhadwalkedtothelibrarytable,openedadrawerinit,andpulledoutthe“map.”“Recognizethisplace?”heasked.“Yes.”ItwasaplanofpartoftheSeraglioareaandoftheroadsadjacentto

thewalls.ThetriangularshapeIhadnotedwasformedbythecoastline.“Thisiswhatwearegoingtodo,”hewenton.“Whenweleavehere,

wewilldrivetoagarageinIstanbul.OurbagswillbeinthetrunkoftheLincoln.Atthegarage,Mr.Miller,Mr.Fischer,you,andIwillgetoutoftheLincolnandintoadifferentcar,whichwillbewaitingthere. IwillthendriveyoutotheSeraglioPalace.There,Mr.Miller,Mr.Fischer,andyouwillgetout.ThePalaceisopentothepublicuntilfive.Thethreeofyouwillbuyticketsandenterintheordinarywayastourists.Youwill

thencross theSecondCourtyard to theGateofFelicity.Whenyouaresurethat theguideshave lost interest inyou,youwillgothroughintotheThirdCourtyardandturnleft.Youthenhaveashortwalk—exactlysixtypaces—beforeyoucometoabigbronzegateinacourtyardtotheleftwithasmalldoorbesideit.Bothgateanddoorarekeptlocked,butMr.Millerwillhaveakeytothedoor.BeyondthedoorisapassagewithastairwayleadinguptotheroofoftheWhiteEunuchs’apartments”—hepointedtotheplan—“here.Thenyoulockthedoorbehindyouandwait.Clearsofar?”“Quiteclear,exceptaboutwhywe’redoingallthis.”“Oh, I thought you’d have guessed that.” He grinned. “We’re justgoing to have ourselves a piece of the old Sultans’ loot. Just a littlepiece,that’sall—aboutamilliondollars’worth.”IlookedatMissLipp.“I was being cagey, Arthur,” she said. “There is some obsidian andgarnetthere,andgreentourmaline,too.Butalotofthatstuff’stherealthing.Therearesixpigeon’sbloodrubiesinthatthroneroomthatmustbeovertwentycaratsapiece.Doyouknowwhatjustonerubylikethatisworth,Arthur?AndtheemeraldsonthoseKorancaskets!MyGod!”Harper laughed. “All right, honey, I think Arthur has the picture.Now”—he turned again to the plan—“there are civilian watchmen onduty,butnotverymanyofthem,andthenightshiftcomesonateight.Yougivethemanhourtosettledown.Atnineyoumove.Yougoupthestairs to the roof and turn left. There are three little domes—cupolas,they call them—on the roof there, and youwalk along to the right ofthem.After that the roof ismore or less flat until you get to the gatearch.YougoaroundthatovertheroofoftheAudienceChamberandonuntilyouseethechimneysofthekitchensonyourright.Thenyouturnleftagain,crosstheroofoftheplacewheretheyhavetheminiaturesandtapestries.Attheendofitthere’sathree-footdropontotheroofoftheTreasuryMuseum. That’s where you have to be careful. The Treasuryroofisthirty-fivefeetwide,butit’svaulted.Thereisaflatareaaroundthecupolathough,soyouclimbdownthere.Allquitesafe.Thecupolaisten feet in diameter and that’ll be your anchor for the tackle. Mr.Miller’lltietheknotsforyou.Whenhe’sgottheslinghookedup,he’llsitinit.Thenallyouhavetodoislowerhimoverthesideuntilhe’slevelwithasteelshuttereighteenfeetbelow.He’lldotherest.”

“Mr.Millerwill?”Helookedatmewithamusement.“Youthinkhe’stoooldforthatsort

of thing?Arthur,whenMr.Millergetsbusyhemakesa fly look likeamanindivingboots.”“Yousaidtherewasasteelshutter?”“You could open it with a toothpick. Thewall’s four feet thick and

solidstone.Iguessit’dstanduptoasix-inchshell.Buttheshuttersoverthe window apertures are just quarter-inch plate with ordinary drawboltsonthem.Theydon’tevenfitproperly.Andnoalarmsystem.”“Butifthisjewelryissovaluable…”“Have you ever looked through one of those window apertures,

Arthur? There’s a sheer drop of three hundred feet below. It’s quiteimpossible to get up or down there. That’s why we’re going in fromabove.Thetrickisgettingoutagain.Whattheirsecuritysetupreliesonisthefactthatthewholeareaiswalledlikeafortress.Therearegates,ofcourse,and thegateshave troopsguarding thematnight;butgatescanbeopenedifyouknowhow.That’llallbetakencareof.You’llwalkout of there just aseasily as youwalked in.”His eyes foundmine andheldthem.“Yousee,Arthur,we’reprofessionals.”

Iforcedmyselftolookaway.IlookedatMissLipp;buthereyeshadthesameintentlookashis.“I’msorry,”Isaid;“I’mnotaprofessional.”“Youdon’thavetobe,”shesaid.“Ican’tdoit,Mr.Harper.”“Whynot?”“BecauseI’dbetooafraid.”Hesmiled.“That’sthebestthingI’veheardyousay,Arthur.Youhad

mequiteworriedforamoment.”“Imeanit.”“Sure you do.Whowouldn’t be scared? I’m scared. In a few hours’

timeI’llbeevenmorescared.That’sgood.Ifyouaren’tabitscaredyoudon’tstayonyourtoes.”“I’m not talking about being a bit scared, Mr. Harper. I’m talking

about being too scared. I’d be no use to you.” And I meant it. I wasthinking ofmyself on top of that roofwith a three-hundred-foot dropdowntotheroad.Ican’tstandheights.There was a silence, and then she laughed. “I don’t believe you,

Arthur,”shesaid.“You?Youwithtwogoodarmsandhandstoholdonwith,scaredofgoingwhereHansFischerisn’tafraidtogowithonlyhalfahand?Itdoesn’tmakesense.”“I’msorry,”Isaidagain.Therewasanothersilenceandthenheglancedatherandmovedhis

headslightly.Shewalkedoutontotheterrace.“Let’sgetacoupleofthingsstraight,Arthur,”hesaid.“AllI’masking

youtodoistakealittlerideandthenalittlewalk,andthenhandlearopefortwentyminutes.You’llbeinnodanger.Nobody’sgoingtotakepot shots at you. And when it’s done you get two thousand bucks.Right?”“Yes,but…”“Letmefinish.Now,supposingyouchickenout,whatdowedo?”“Getsomeoneelse,Isuppose.”“Yes,butwhatdowedoaboutyou?”Hepaused.“Yousee,Arthur,it’s

notjustaquestionofgettingthejobdone.Youknowtoomuchnownottobeapartofit.Ifyou’regoingtobeontheoutside,well,we’llhavetoprotectourselvesanotherway.Youfollowme?”HecouldseethatIdid.Ihadachoice:Icouldeitherfrightenmyselfto

deathontheroofoftheSeraglioortakeashorter,quickerroutetothe

policemortuary.“Nowgogetyourselfanotherdrinkandstopworrying,”hesaid;“justthinkofthetwothousandbucks.”Ishrugged.“Allright.I’mmerelytellingyouhowIfeel,that’sall.”“You’llbeokay,Arthur.”Heledthewaybackontotheterrace.ItwasonthetipofmytonguetoaskhimhowokayMr.MillerwouldbeiftheheightgotmedownandIpassedoutwhileIwashandlingthetackle;but I thoughtbetterof it. Ifherealized that I reallywasn’t justbeingtimid,thatIreallycouldn’tstandheights,hemightdecidethat Iwastoodangerousaliabilityineveryway.Besides,Iwascomingtomysenses again now. Tufan’s “politicals” had turned out to be big-timecrooksafterall. Ihadbeenrightallalong,andhehadbeenhopelesslywrong;buthewasstillapowerfulally,andIstillhadagoodchanceofbeingable to stop thewhole thing.All Ihad todowasadd just threewords—raidingSeragliotreasury—tothenoteinthecigarettepacketanddropitforthesurveillancepeople.Afterthat,myworrieswouldbeover,andHarper’s would begin. I had a pleasing vision of the lot of them,rounded up and in handcuffs, watching Tufan hand me a brand-newBritishpassport.“Whatareyougrinningat,Arthur?”Harperasked.Iwas pouringmyself the seconddrinkhe hadprescribed. “You toldmetothinkofthetwothousanddollars,Mr.Harper,”Ianswered.“Iwasjustcarryingoutorders.”“You’re a screwball,Arthur,” he said amiably; but I sawa reflectivelook in his eyes and decided that I had better watch myself. All thesame,Icouldn’thelpwonderingwhathewouldhavesaidanddoneifhehadbeenwarned,atthatmoment,thatthecustomspeopleinEdirnehadlooked inside the doors of the car, and that everymove he hadmadesince had been made with the knowledge and by permission of thesecuritypolice—if,inotherwords,hehadbeentoldhowvulnerablehewas.Notthat Ihadtheslightestdesiretowarnhim;Ihadn’t forgottenthecaninghehadgivenmeinAthens;butifithadbeensafetodoso,Iwouldhave likedto tellhimthat itwasmy lousyout-of-dateEgyptianpassport that had done the job. I would have liked to have seen thebastard’sface.Hamul shuffled out and made signs to Miss Lipp that lunch wasserved.Sheglancedatme.“Bringyourdrinkinwithyou,Arthur.”

Presumably Iwas being promoted to eatingwith the gentry so thattheycouldkeepaneyeonme.Millerwasagloomyfeeder,andmadetheomeletlessappetizingthanitcouldhavebeenbytalkingaboutinfectiousdiseasesallthetime.Howdidtheygrowvirusculturesinlaboratories?Why,ineggs,ofcourse!Hediscussedthepossibleconsequencesatlength.Theotherstooknonotice;evidentlytheywereusedtohim;butitgotmedown.Ihadn’tfeltmuchlikeeatinganyway.When the fruit came Harper looked across at me. “As soon as theHamuls have cleared away,” he said, “youhad better start getting thebagsdown.Theythinkwe’regoingtoAnkaraforacoupleofdays,soitdoesn’t matter if they see us. The important thing is that we leaveourselvestimetocleanuptherooms.”“Cleanthemup?”“For fingerprints.With any luck we’ll never be connected with thisplace.Therentwaspaidinadvanceandtheownercouldn’tcarelessifwe don’t show up again. The Hamuls will dust off most of itautomatically. They’re great polishers, I’ve noticed. But things theycouldmiss,likewindowhandlesandclosetmirrors,weshouldtakecareofourselves—justincase.”Bytwoo’clockIhadallthebagsdownandaskedHarperifIcouldgotomyoldroomtocleanupthere.Henodded.“Okay,Arthur,butdon’tbelong.IwantyoutogiveMr.Fischerahand.”Ihurriedupstairs. In thebathroom, I completed the cigarette-packetmessage. Then I went through the motions of “cleaning up”—Tufanalreadyhadmyfingerprints—andreturnedtoFischer’sroom.At a quarter to three Harper drove the car from the garage to thecourtyardandIloadedthebags.Therewasn’troomforallofthemintheluggagecompartment,sosomehadtogoonthefloorbythebackseat.Atthree,Harper,Miller,andIwentuptoMiller’sroom.There,Millerand I took our shirts off and swathed ourselves in the tackle, Harperassisting and rearranging things until he was satisfied that nothingwouldshow.Ihadthespringhooksoftheslinghangingdowninsidemytrouserlegs.Itwasdreadfullyuncomfortable.Harpermademewalkupanddownsothathecouldseethatallwasinorder.“You look as if you’ve wet your pants,” he complained. “Can’t youwalkmorenaturally?”

“Thehookskeephittingoneanother.”“Well,wearonehigherandonelower.”Afterfurtheradjustments,hewassatisfiedandwewentdownstairsto

be inspected byMiss Lipp. She had fault to find withMiller—he haddevelopedthesametroublewiththeblocksasIhadhadwiththehooks—and while they were putting it right I managed to transfer thecigarette packet frommy hip to my shirt pocket, so that it would beeasiertogetatwhenthetimecame.Fischerwasgettingedgynow.Thebandagespreventedhiswearinga

wristwatchandhekeptlookingatMiller’s.Millersuddenlygotirritated.“Youcannothelp,sodonotgetintheway,”hesnapped.“It is timewewere leaving.After four-thirty, they count the people

goingin.”“I’ll tellyouwhenit’s timetoleave,”Harpersaid.“Ifyoucan’tkeep

still,Hans,gositinthecar.”Fischer sulked, while Miller returned to his bedroom for final

adjustments.Harperturnedtome.“You’re looking warm, Arthur. Better you don’t drive with all that

junkunderyourshirt.You’llonlygetwarmer.Besides,MissLippknowstheway.Yourideintheback.”“Verywell.”IhadhopedthatImightbeabletodropthepacketwhile

Iwasmakingahandsignal;butIknewitwasnousearguingwithhim.Atthree-thirtyweallwentoutandgotintothecar.Miller,ofcourse,

wasfirstintheback.Harpermotionedmetofollow,thenFischergotinaftermeandHarpershutthedoor.SoIwasn’tevennexttoawindow.MissLippdrovewithHarperbesideher.Fromwhere Iwassitting, thedrivingmirrordidnotreflect theroad

behind.Afteraminuteortwo,andonthepretextofgivingFischermoreroomforthearmthatwas inthesling, Imanagedtomakeahalf turnandglancethroughtherearwindow.ThePeugeotwasfollowing.Miss Lipp drove steadily and very carefully, but there wasn’t much

traffic and we made good time. At ten to four we were past theDolmabahçe Palace and following the tramlines up towards TaximSquare. Ihadassumedthat thegarageHarperhadspokenofwouldbetheoneneartheSpanishConsulate,andwithinwalkingdistanceoftheDivan Hotel, which I had heard about from the surveillance man. Itlooked at that point as if the assumption were correct. Then, quite

suddenly,everythingseemedtogowrong.InsteadofturningrightatTaximSquare,shewentstraightonacrossitanddown thehill towardsGalata. Iwas so surprised that Inearly lostmy head and told her she was going the wrong way. Just in time, Iremembered that I wasn’t supposed to know the way. But Miller hadnoticedmyinvoluntarymovement.“Whatisthematter?”“Thatpedestrianbackthere—Ithoughthewasgoingtowalkstraightinto us.” It is a remark that foreigners driving in Istanbulmake everyotherminute.He snorted. “They are peasants. They deny the existence ofmachinery.”Atthatmoment,MissLippturnedsharplyleftandweplungeddownarampbehindaservicestation.Itwasn’talargeplaceunderground.Therewasgaragespaceforabouttwentycarsandagreasingbaywithaninspectionpit.OverthepitstoodaVolkswagenMinibusvan.Infrontofitstoodamaninoverallswithafilthyraginhishand.MissLipppulledtheLincolnovertotheleftandstopped.Harpersaid:“Hereweare!Out!”Miller andHarper alreadyhad theirdoors open, andHarperopenedFischer’ssideaswell.AsIslidoutafterMiller,Igotthecigarettepacketfrommyshirtpocketintothepalmofmyhand.NowHarperwasclimbingupintothedriver’sseatofthevan.“Moveyourselves,”hesaid,andpressedthestarter.Theotherdoorofthevanwasattheside.Millerwrencheditopenandgot in. As I followed, I pretended to stumble and then dropped thecigarettepacket.Isawitlandonthegreasyconcreteandclimbedonin.ThenthedoorswungtobehindmeandIheardFischerswearasitcaughthimontheshoulder.I leanedbacktoholditopenforhim,soIwaslookingdownand saw ithappen.Asheputouthisgoodhand tograsp thehandrailandclimbin,hisleftfootcaughtthecigarettepacketandsweptitunderthevanintothepit.Itwasn’tintentional.Hewasn’tevenlookingdown.Millershutthedoorandlatchedit.“Holdtight,”Harpersaid,andletintheclutch.As the van lurched forward, the back of my legs hit the edge of a

packingcaseandIsatdownonit.Myfacewasrightupagainstthesmallwindowattheback.Wewentuptothetopoftherampagain,waitedamomentortwofor

abustogoby,andthenmadea left turnondowntowardstheGalataBridge.ThroughthewindowIcouldseethePeugeotparkedoppositethegarage.It was still there when I lost sight of it. It hadn’t moved. It was

waiting,faithfuluntodeath,fortheLincolntocomeout.

10

Foraminuteor two I couldn’tbelieve that ithadhappened, andkeptlookingbackthroughthewindowexpectingtoseethatthePeugeotwasfollowingafterall.Itwasn’t.Fischerwasswearingandmassaginghisleftshoulderwherethedoorhadcaughthim.Millerwasgrinningtohimselfas if at someprivate joke.Aswebouncedover the tramlines onto theGalataBridge,Igaveuplookingbackandstaredatthefloor.Atmyfeet,amid some wood shavings, there were torn pieces of an Athensnewspaper.Of the six packing cases in the van, threewere being used as seats.

Fromthewaytheotherthreevibratedandslidabouttheyappearedtobeempty.FromthewayMillerandFischerwerehaving toholdon tosteadythemselvesonthecorners,itlookedasiftheircaseswereempty,too. Mine was more steady. It seemed likely that the case that I wassittingonnowheld thegrenades, thepistols,and theammunition thathadcomefromAthensinsidethedoorsofthecar.Iwishedthewholelotwould blow up then and there. It didn’t even occur to me, then, towonderhowtheyweregoingtobeused.Ihadenoughtothinkofwithmyowntroubles.AsHarperdrovepastAyaSophiaandheadedtowardsthegateinthe

oldSeragliowall,hebegantotalkoverhisshouldertous.“Leogoesfirst.HansandArthurtogetherahundredyardsbehindhim.

Arthur,youpay forHans so thathedoesn’thave to fumble formoneywiththosebandageson.Right?”“Yes.”HedrovethroughintotheCourtyardoftheJanissariesandpulledup

underthetreesoppositeSt.Irene.“I’mnottakingyouanynearertotheentrance,”hesaid.“There’llbe

guideshangingaroundandwedon’twantthemidentifyingyouwiththisvan.Onyourway,Leo.Seeyoutonight.”

MillergotoutandwalkedtowardstheOrtakapiGate.Hehadaboutahundredandfiftyyardstogo.Whenhehadcoveredhalfthedistance,Harpersaid:“Okay,youtwo.Get ready. And, Arthur, you watch yourself. Leo and Hans both havegunsandthey’llusethemifyoustartgettingoutoflineinanyway.”“Iwillthinkofthetwothousanddollars.”“Youdothat.I’llberightbehindyounow,justtoseethatyoumakeitinside.”“We’llmakeit.”I wanted to appear as co-operative as I could just then, because,althoughIwassickwithpanic,Ihadthoughtofawayofstoppingthemthattheycouldn’tblameonme—atleastinadangerousway.Istillhadmyguide’slicense.TufanhadwarnedmeagainstattractingattentiontomyselfasaguideincaseIwaschallengedandhadtoshowit.Hehadsaid that, because I was a foreigner, that would cause trouble withmuseumguards.Well,troublewithmuseumguardswastheonekindoftroubleIneededatthatmoment;andthemorethebetter.FischerandIbegantowalktowardsthegate.Millerwaswithinafewyardsofit,andIsawaguideapproachhim.Millerwalkedstraightoninwithoutaglanceattheman.“That’stheway,”Fischersaid,andbegantowalkalittlefaster.Thehooksbegan to thumpagainstmy legs. “Not so fast,” I said; “ifthesehooksswingtoomuchthey’llshow.”Hesloweddownagainimmediately.“Youneedn’tworryabouttheguides,”Isaid.“I’vegotmylicense.I’llbeyourguide.”AswegotneartheGate,Ibegantogivehimthesetspeech,allabouttheweeklyexecutions,theblock,thefountain,theExecutionerwhowasalsotheChiefGardener.TheguidewhohadapproachedMillerwaswatchingus,soIraisedmyvoiceslightlytomakesurethatheheardmeandknewwhatIwasupto.WhatIhopedwasthathewouldfollowusandcomplainaboutmetotheguardatthegate.Instead,helostinterestandturnedaway.Itwasdisappointing,butIhadanotherplanworkedoutbythen.Justinsidethegatehousethereisthecounterwhereyoupaytogoin.When I got to it, Ihanded theman three separate liraand said: “Twotickets,please.”AtthesametimeIshowedhimmyguide’slicense.

FromhispointofviewIhaddonethreewrongthings.Ihadshownaguide’slicense,andyet,byaskingfortwotickets,revealedthatIdidn’tknowthatguideswereadmittedfree;Ihadgivenhimthreelira,whicharealguidewouldhaveknownwasenoughtobuysixtickets;andIhadspokentohiminEnglish.He was a haggard man with a small black mustache and adisagreeable expression. I waited for trouble. It never came. He didabsolutelynothingbutglanceatthelicense,pushacrossoneticket,takeoneof the lira, andgiveme sixty kurush change. Itwasmaddening. Ipickedthechangeupveryslowly,hopinghewouldstarttothink,buthewasgazingintospace,boredtodeath.“Let’sgo,”Fischersaid.OutofthecornerofmyeyeIcouldseeHarperapproachingthegate.There was nothing for it but to go on. Usually there are one or twoguidestoutingforcustomersinsidetheSecondCourtyard.Infact,ithadbeen there that I had been challenged three years previously. Thatepisodehadendedupinmybeingjailedforthenight.Icouldonlycountonthesamethinghappeningagain.Ofcourse,thesamethingdidnothappenagain.Becauseitwasthelasthourofthemuseumday,all thecourtyardguideswereeitheroutwithparties of suckers completing tours of the palace or cooling their fatarsesinthenearestcafé.I didmy best. Aswewalked on along the right side of the SecondCourtyard, I gave Fischer the set speech on the Seraglio kitchens—allabout the Sung, Yuna, and Ming porcelains—but nobody as much aslooked at us.Miller had already reached the Gate of Felicity andwasstandingtheregawkingatitlikeatourist.Whenheheardourfootstepsbehindhim,hewalkedthroughintotheThirdCourtyard.I hesitated. Oncewewere through the gate, the Audience ChamberandtheLibraryofAhmedtheThirdwouldscreenusfromthebuildingsacrossthecourtyardthatwereopentothepublic.Unlessaguardcameoutofthemanuscriptlibrary,andtherewasnoreasonwhyoneshould,there would be nothing to stop us from getting to the door to whichMillerhadthekey.“Whyareyoustopping?”Fischerasked.“Hesaidthatweweretostophere.”“Onlyiftherewereguideswatching.”

There were footsteps on the paving stones behind us. I turned myhead.ItwasHarper.“Keepgoing,Arthur,”hesaid;“justkeepgoing.”Hisvoicewasquite

low,butithadanedgetoit.Hewasonlyaboutsixpacesawaynow,andIknewsuddenlyfromthe

lookonhisfacethatIdarenotlethimreachme.SoIwentonwithFischerthroughtheGateofFelicity.Isupposethat

obedience to Harper had become almost as instinctive with me asbreathing.Ashehadsaid,thewalkwasexactlysixtypaces.Nobodystoppedus.

Nobodynoticedus.MilleralreadyhadthedooropenwhenFischerandIgotthere.AllIrememberabouttheoutsideofthedoorwasthatithadwoodmoldingsonitarrangedinanoctagonpattern.Then,withFischerbehind me, I was standing in a narrow stone passage with a vaultedceilingandMillerwasrelockingthedoor.The passagewas about twenty feet long and ended in a blankwall

with a coiled fire hose inside a glass-fronted box fastened to it. Thespiral stairway to the roofwasof ironandhad thenameofaGermancompany on it. The same company had supplied the fire hose. Millerwalkedtothebottomofthestaircaseandlookedupatitappreciatively.“Averyclevergirl,”hesaid.Fischer shrugged. “For someone who interpreted air photos for the

Luftwaffe itwas not difficult,” he said. “A blindman could have seenthisontheenlargedphotoshehad.ItwasIwhohadtofindthewaytoit,andIwhohadtogetakeyandmakealltheotherarrangements.”Miller chuckled. “Itwas shewho had the idea,Hans, andKarlwho

workedoutthearrangements.Weareonlythetechnicians.Theyaretheartists.”He seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly, and looked more

wolfishthanever.Ifeltlikebeingsick.Fischer sat on the stairs. Miller took off his coat and shirt and

unwoundthetacklefromabouthisskinnywaist.Theredidn’tseemanypointinbeinguncomfortableaswellasfrightened,soIunbuttoned,too,andgotridoftheslingandanchorrope.Heattachedthemtothetackle.Then,hetookablackvelvetbagfromhispocket.Itwasaboutthesizeofa man’s sock and had a drawstring at the top and a spring clip. Heattachedthecliptooneofthehooksonthesling.

“Now,”hesaid,“weareready.”Helookedathiswatch.“InanhourorsoGiulioandEnricowillbeontheirway.”“Whoarethey?”Iasked.“Friendswhowillbringtheboatforus,”saidMiller.“Aboat?Howcanaboatreachus?”“It doesn’t,” said Fischer. “We reach the boat. You know the yardsalongtheshorebytheoldcitywall,wheretheboatslandthefirewood?”I did. Istanbul is awood-burning city inwinter. The firewood yardsstretchfornearlyamilealongthecoastroadsoutheastofSeraglioPoint,wherethewaterisdeepenoughforcoasterstocomecloseinshore.Butweweretwomilesfromthere.“Dowefly?”“TheVolkswagenwillcallforus.”HegrinnedatMiller.“Hadn’tyoubettertellmemorethanthat?”“Thatisnotourpartoftheoperation,”Millersaid.“Ourpart isthis.WhenweleavetheTreasurywegoquietlybackoverthekitchensuntilwecometothewalloftheCourtyardoftheJanissariesabovetheplacewhere the carsparkduring theday.Thewall is only twenty feethighand there are trees there to screenuswhenwe lowerourselves to thegroundwiththetackle.Then…”“Then,” Fischer broke in, “we take a little walk to where theVolkswagenwillbewaiting.”IansweredMiller.“IsMr.Fischertolowerhimselftothegroundwithonehand?”“Hewillseathimselfinthesling.Onlyonehandisneededtoholdontothebuckles.”“Evenintheoutercourtyardwearestillinsidethewalls.”“Therewillbeawaythroughthem.”Hedismissedthesubjectwithanimpatient wave of his hand and looked about him for a place to sitdown. Therewas only the iron staircase.He examined the steps of it.“Everything here is very dirty,” he complained. “That these people donotalldieofdiseaseisincredible.Immunity,perhaps.TherewasacityhereevenbeforeConstantine’s.Two thousandyearsormoreofplagueareinthisplace—cholera,bubonic,lavérole,dysentery.”“Not any more, Leo,” said Fischer; “they have even cleaned thedrains.”“Itisallwaitinginthedust,”Millerinsistedgloomily.

Hearrangedthenylonropesoastomakeaseatonthestairsbeforehesatdown.Hisexuberancehadgone.Hehadrememberedaboutgermsandbacteria.Isatonthebottomstepwishingthat Ihadanirrationalanxiety like

his to occupy my mind, instead of the real and immediate fears thatoccupiedmylungs,myheart,andmystomach.At fiveo’clock,bellswere sounded in thecourtyardsand therewere

one or two distant shouts. The guardswere herding everyone out andclosingupforthenight.I started to light a cigarette, butMiller stoppedme. “Not until it is

dark,”hesaid.“Thesunmighthappentoilluminatethesmokebeforeitdispersedabove the roof. It isbetteralso thatwe talknomore. Itwillbecomeveryquietoutsideandwedonotknowhowtheacousticsofaplacelikethismaywork.Nounnecessaryrisks.”That was what Tufan had said. I wonderedwhat he was doing. He

must,Ithought,alreadyknowthathehadlosteveryoneandeverything,exceptMissLippand theLincoln.ThePeugeotwouldhave radioed in.ThequestionwaswhetherthesurveillancepeoplehadrememberedtheVolkswagenvanornot.Iftheyhad,therewouldbeafaintpossibilityofTufan’sbeingabletotraceitusingthepolice;butitseemedveryfaint.Iwondered how many thousand Volkswagen vans there were in theIstanbularea.Ofcourse,iftheyhadhappenedtonoticetheregistrationnumber—ifthis,ifthat.FischerbegantosnoreandMillertappedhisleguntilhestopped.Thepatchofskyatthetopofthestaircaseturnedredandthengray

and then blue-black. I lit a cigarette and saw Miller’s teeth gleamingyellowlyinthelightofthematch.“What about flashlights?” I whispered. “We won’t be able to see a

thing.”“Therewillbeathird-quartermoon.”Atabouteighttherewasamurmurofvoicesfromoneorotherofthe

courtyards—in there it was impossible to tell which—and a manlaughed.Presumably,thenightwatchmenweretakingover.Thentherewas silence again. A plane going over became an event, something tothinkabout.Was itpreparing to landatYesilköyairportorhad it justtakenoff?Fischerproduceda flaskofwaterwithametalcupon thebase,and

we each had a drink. Another age went by. Then there was the faintsoundof a train pulling out of the Sirkeci station and chugging roundthesharpcurveatSeraglioPointbelow.Itswhistlesoundedshrilly,likea French train, and then it began to gather speed. As the sound diedaway,a lightglared,almostblindingme.Millerhadapen light inhishandandwaslookingathiswatch.Hesighedcontentedly.“Wecango,”hewhispered.“Thelightamoment,Leo,”Fischersaid.Millerheldthelightupforhim.Withhisgoodhand,Fischereaseda

small snub-nosed revolver from his breast pocket, worked the safetycatch, and then transferred the thing to a side pocket. He gaveme ameaninglookashepattedit.Miller got up, so I stood up, too.He came down the stepswith the

tackle and looped it around one shoulder like a bandolier. “I will gofirst,”hesaid;“Arthurwillfollowme.Thenyou,Hans.Isthereanythingelse?Ahyes,thereis.”Hewentandrelievedhimselfinthecornerbythefirehose.Whenhe

hadfinishedFischerdidthesamething.Iwassmoking.“Putthatoutnow,”Millersaid.HelookedatFischer.

“Areyouready?”Fischernodded;then,aninstantbeforethelightwentout,Isawhim

cross himself. That is something I don’t understand. I mean, he wasaskingablessing,orwhateveritis,whenhewasgoingtocommitasin.Miller went up the stairs slowly. At the top he paused, looking all

round,gettinghisbearings.Thenhebenthisheaddowntomine.“Karl said that you may have vertigo,” he said softly; “but it is all

quite simple.Followmeat threepaces.Donot look sidewaysorback,only ahead. There is one step down from this ironwork. Then there isleadsheet.Iwillstepdown,gothreepaces,andwaitalittlesothatyoureyescanadjustthemselves.”Ihadbeen so long in thedarkness that the intermittentglareof the

pen light had been almost painful.Outside on the roof, themoonlightseemedtomakeeverythingasbrightasday;toobrightformyliking;Iwas certain that someone would see us from the ground and startshooting. Fischer must have had the same feeling. I heard him swearunderhisbreathbehindme.Miller’steethgleamedforaninstant;thenhestartedtomoveforward

pastthethreecupolasoverthequartersoftheWhiteEunuchs.Therewasaspaceofaboutfivefeetbetweenthecupolasandtheedgeoftheroof.Staying close to the cupolas and looking only ahead as Miller hadinstructedme,Ihadnosensationatallofbeingonahighplace.Forawhile,myonlyproblemwaskeepingupwithhim.Harperhadcomparedhimtoafly.Tomehelookedmorelikeanearwigasheslitheredroundthe last of the three cupolas and scuttled on, leaning inward over theslight hump in the center of the roof. He stopped only once. He hadcrossed the roof of the Audience Chamber, to avoid what looked likethreelargefanlightsovertheGateofFelicity,andwasreturningtotheEunuchs’ roof when another fanlight appeared and the flat surfacenarrowedsuddenly.Thewayacrosswasonlyabouttwofeetwide.Isawthegroundbelowandstartedtogodownonmyknees—Imightjust have been able to crawl across by myself, I suppose—when hereachedback,grippedmyforearm,anddrewmeafterhim.ItwasdonesoquicklythatIhadnotimetogetsickandlosemybalance.Hisfingerswerelikesteelclamps.Then, we were level with the kitchens and I could see the conicalbasesoftheirtensquatchimneysstretchingawaytotheright.Millerledthewaytotheleft.TheflatspaceherewasoverthirtyfeetwideandIhadnotrouble.Therewasafour-footrisethen,whichbroughtusoverthebigroomwiththeexhibitionofminiaturesandglassinit.Ahead,Icould see thewhole of one cupola and, beyond it, the top of anothersmaller one. The smaller one, I knew,was the one on the roof of theTreasuryMuseum.Millerbegantomovemoreslowlyandcarefullyasheskirtedthebigcupola.Everynowandagainhestopped.ThenIsawhimlowerhimselfover a ledge.Whenhis feet foundwhatever therewasbelow,onlyhisheadandshoulderswereshowing.Iwasfollowingroundthebigcupola,andhadstartedtomoveawayfromittowardstheledge,whenMillerturnedandbeckonedtome.Hehad moved a yard or two towards the outer edge of the roof, so Ichangeddirectiontowardshim.ThatishowitwasthatwhenIcametotheledgeIsawtoomuch.TherewasthevaultedroofoftheTreasury,andthecupolawithaflatspaceaboutfourfeetwideallaroundthebaseofit.ThatiswhereMillerwas standing. But beyond him there was nothing, just a great black

emptiness,andthen,horriblyfarawaybelow,thefaintwhitehairlineofaroadinthemoonlight.I felt myself starting to lose my balance and fall, so I knelt downquicklyandclungtotheleadsurfaceoftheroof.ThenIbeganretching.Icouldn’thelpit;I’veneverbeenabletohelpit.FromwhatI’veheardfrompeoplewhogetseasick,thatmustbethesamesortoffeeling;onlymyfeelingaboutheightsisworse.Ihadnothing inmy stomach to throwup,but thatdidn’tmakeanydifference.Mystomachwentontryingtothrowup.Fischer began kicking me and hissing at me to be silent. Millerreached up and draggedme by the ankles down over the ledge, thenmademesitwithmybackagainstthesideofthecupola.Heshovedmyhead hard between my knees. I heard a scuffling noise as he helpedFischerdownofftheledge,thentheirwhispering.“Willhebeallright?”“Hewillhavetobe.”“Thefatfool.”FischerkickedmeasIstartedtoretchagain.Millerstoppedhim.“Thatwilldonogood.Youwillhavetohelp.Aslongashegetsnonearertheedgeitmaybepossible.”Iopenedmyeyes justenoughtoseeMiller’s feet.Hewas layingouttheanchorroperoundthecupolaandpresentlyhepulledoneendofitdownbetweenmybackandthepartIwasleaningagainst.Amomentortwolater,hecroucheddowninfrontofmeandbeganknottingtherope.Whenthatwasdone,heslippedontheupperblockoftheliftingtackle.Thenhebroughthisheadclosetomine.“Canyouhearme,Arthur?”“Yes.”“Ifyoudidn’thavetomove,you’dfeelsafehere,wouldn’tyou?”“Idon’tknow.”“Youaresafenow,aren’tyou?”“Yes.”“Thenlisten.Youcanhandlethetacklefromhere.Openyoureyesandlookupatme.”Imanagedtodoso.Hehadtakenhiscoatoffandlookedskinnierthanever.“Hanswillbeattheedge,”hewenton,“andwithhisgoodhandwillholdmycoatinplacethere.Inthatwaytheropeswillrunsmoothlyoveritandnotbecut.Youunderstand?”

“Yes.”“Andyouwillnothavetogoneartheedge—onlyletoutropeandpull

inwhenyouaretold.”“Idon’tknow.SupposingIletitslip.”“Well,thatwouldbebad,becausethenyouwouldhaveonlyHansto

dealwith,andhewouldcertainlymakesurethatyouslipped,too.”The teeth, as he smiled,were like rows of gravestones. Suddenlyhe

pickedupacoilofropefromtheleadbesidehimandputitinmyhands.“Get ready to take the strain,” he said, “and remember that it

stretches.Idon’tmindhowslowlyIgodownorhowquicklyIcomeup.Hanswillgiveyouthesignalstolower,stop,andraise.”Hepointedtoaridgeinthelead.“Braceyourfeetagainstthis.So.”The day Mum died, the Imam came and intoned verses from the

Koran.Nowtastethetormentofthefireyoucalledalie.Miller slipped the end of the rope around my chest and knotted it

firmly.Thenhehauledintheslack.“Areyouready,Arthur?”Inodded.“ThenlookatHans.”IletmyeyesgotoFischer’slegsandthenhisbody.Hewaslyingon

hisrightsidewithhisshoulderonMiller’scoatandhisrighthandonthetacklereadytoguideit.Idarednotlookanynearertheedge.IknewIwouldpassoutifIdid.I sawMillerputapairofgloveson, step into the sling, thencrouch

downandmoveoutofsight.“Now,”Fischerwhispered.The strain didn’t come suddenly; the stretch in the nylon had to be

takenupfirst.MyhandswereslipperywithsweatandIhadloopedtheroperoundthesleeveofmyleftarmtogivememorepurchase.Whenthe full strain came, the loop tightened like a tourniquet. Then thepressure fluctuatedand Icould feelMillerbouncing in theslingas thetacklesettleddown.“Steady.”Fischerheldhisrighthandpalmdownwardsoverthetackle.Themovementintheblockbytheanchorropebesidemeceased.“Lowerslowly.”Ilettheropeslideroundmyarmandthebouncingbeganagain.“Keepgoing,smoothly.”Iwentonpayingouttherope.Therewaslessbouncingnow,justan

occasionalvibration.Millerwasusinghisfeettosteadyhimselfagainstthewallashedescended.Iwatchedthecoilofropebesidemegrowingsmaller and had another terror to fight. The end of the ropewas tiedroundmychest.Icouldn’tuntieitnowwithoutlettinggo.Iftherewerenot enough rope in the coil to reach the shutter below, Fischerwouldmakememovenearertotheedge.Therewas about six feet left to gowhen he raised his hand. “Stop.

Holdstill.”I was so relieved that I didn’t notice the pain in my arm from the

tightenedloop;Ijustclosedmyeyesandkeptmyheaddown.Therewereslightmovementsontherope,and,afteramomentortwo,

faintclickingsoundsashewenttoworkonthemetalshutters.Minuteswentby.Myleftarmbegantogonumb.Then,therewasanothersoundfrombelow, a sort of hollow tapping. It only lasted amoment, beforeFischerhissedatme.Iopenedmyeyesagain.“Loweralittle,veryslowly.”AsIobeyedIfeltthetensionintheropesuddenlyslacken.Millerwas

inside.“Rest.”I loosened the rope onmy arm andmassaged it until the pins and

needlesbegan. Ididn’t try tomassage themaway.Theykeptmymindon my arm and away from other things, such as the day the gamesmasterhadmademedive.Whenyougotintothecadetcorpsyouhadtobe able to swim, and, once a week, all the boys in each squad whocouldn’t do so were marched to the Lewisham Public Baths to takelessons.Whenyouhad learnedtoswimyouhadtodive. Ididn’tmindtheswimmingpart,butwhenmyheadwentunderwaterIwasalwaysafraidofdrowning.ForatimeIdidn’thaveto,becauseIkepttellingthegamesmasterthatIhadbadears;butthenhesaidthatIwouldhavetogetadoctor’scertificate. I tried towriteonemyself,but Ididn’tknowtheproperwordstouseandhecaughtmeout. IexpectedhimtosendmewithanotetoTheBristle,butinsteadhemademedive.Isay“dive.”Whathedidwaspickmeupbyonearmandalegandthrowmeinthedeepend;andhekeptondoingit.EverytimeImanagedtogetout,evenwhileIwasstillchokingupwater,hewouldthrowmeinagain.OneoftheattendantsattheBathshadtostophimintheend.Hewasmarried,so I wrote a letter to his wife telling her how he messed about with

certainboys in the changing cubicles andpestered them to feelhim. Iwascarelessthough,becauseIusedthesamehandwritingasIhadusedonthecertificate,andheknewforcertainitwasme.Hecouldn’tproveit,ofcourse,becausehehadtornupthecertificate.Hetookmeintoalobby and accusedme and calledme an “unspeakable little cad”; butthatwas all he did.Hewas really shaken.When I realized it, I couldhavekickedmyself. If I hadknown thatheactuallyhadbeenmessingaboutwithboysinthecubicles,Icouldhaveputthepoliceontohim.Asitwas,Ihadsimplywarnedhimtobemorecareful.Hehadthin,curlybrownhairwithanofficer’smustache,andwalkedasifhehadspringsonthesolesofhisfeet.Thetermafterthatheleftandwenttoanotherschool.FischerhissedatmeandIopenedmyeyes.“Takethestrain.”Iwrappedtheroperoundmywaist this timeso that Icouldusemy

weighttopushawayfromtheedgeifnecessary.“Ready?”Inoddedandheldontight.TherewasajerkasMillergothisweight

intotheslingagain.ThenFischernodded.“Up.”Istartedtopull.Thefrictionoftheropeagainstthecoatontheedge

of the roofmade it terriblyhard.The sweat ran intomyeyes.Twice IhadtostopandknottheroperoundmywaistsothatIcouldwipemyhandsandeasethecrampinmyfingers;butthecoilgotlargeragainandthen Fischer began to use his good hand on one of the ropes in thetackle.“Slow…slower…stop.”SuddenlythetackleranfreeandMiller,grinning,wascrawlingacross

therooftowardsme.Hepattedmyleg.“Merci,monchercollègue,”hesaid.I shutmy eyes andnodded.Through the singing inmy ears I could

hearhimreportingtoFischerashegatheredinthetackle.“Allthosewecountedonandafewmoretogarnishthedish.Ieven

fastenedtheshuttersagain.”Ifelthimuntyingtheropefrommychest.WhenIopenedmyeyeshe

was clipping the velvet bag tohis belt. Fischerwas fumblingwith theknots in the anchor rope. I crawledover andbegan tohelphim.All I

wantedwastogetaway,andIknewthattheywouldhavetohelpme.Fischerwithhisinjuredhandneededhelptogetbackontotheupper

rooflevel.Then,Millersomehowmanagedtoheavemeuphighenoughformetoclawmywayovertheledge.Icrawledthenonmyhandsandkneestotheshelterofthebigcupola.BythetimeMillerreachedme,Iwasabletostandup.Westartedback,aswehadstartedout,withMiller inthe lead.This

time,however, therewasnoturntomake.Weleft theWhiteEunuchs’quartersonourrightandwentonoverthekitchenroofstothewallbytheGateofSalvation.Therewasoneawkwardplace—forme,thatis—by the old water tower, but I somehow got past it onmy hands andknees; then we were on the wall overlooking the Courtyard of theJanissaries.Therewasarowoftallplanetreesclosetothewall,andMillerused

anoverhangingbranchasananchorforthetackle.HeloweredFischerfirst, in the sling, and thenme; but hewouldn’t use the sling himself,becausethatwouldhavemeantleavingthetackleinthetree.Itwasnotthe tackle itself he cared about, he said; he didn’t want to leave anytraces behind of how the job had been done. He got off the wall bylooping theanchor ropeover thebranchand slidingdown it.Doubledlikethat,itwasn’tquitelongenoughtoreachtheground,sohedroppedthe last six feet, pulling one end of the rope with him. He landed aslightlyasacatandbegangatheringintherope.Afterallhehaddone,hewasn’tevenoutofbreath.Fischer tookover the leadnow, andheaded for the outerwall on a

lineparallelwith the road the tourist carsusedduring theday.Millerwalkedbehindme.Afteraminuteortwo,wecouldseethelightsoftheguard room beside the huge Bab-i-Hümayun Gate and Fischer sloweddown.Wehadbeenwalking in theshadowofa rowof trees,butnowthey came to an end. Fifty yards across the road to the rightwas thebulk of St. Irene; ahead the road forked, the right prong going to thegate,theleftprongnarrowingandcurvinginwarddownthehilltowardsthesea.Fischerstopped,staringatthegate.Itwasnomore than fiftyyardsawayand I could see the sentry.He

hadhiscarbineslungoverhisshoulderandwaspickinghisnose.Fischerputhismouthtomyear.“Whattimeisit?”

“Fivetoten.”“Wehavetimetowait.”“Waitforwhat?”“Wehavetogoleftdownthehill.Theguardchangesinfiveminutes.

Itwillbesaferthen.”“Wherearewegoingto?”“Therailroad—whereitbridgesthewall.”Asectionoftherailwayranalongtheshorelinejustinsidethebigwall

for about three quarters of a mile; but I knew that there were guardpostsatbothendsofit.Isaidso.Hegrinned.“Guardposts,yes.Butnogates.”Millerhissedawarning.Anoblongoflightglowedasthedooroftheguardroomopened.For

aninstanttwomenwereoutlinedinthedoorway.Then,asthebusinessofchangingsentriesbegan,Fischertouchedmyarm.“Now.”Hemoved forward out of the shadow of the trees and cut across a

patchofroughgrasstotheroad.Itdescendedsharplyandnarrowedtolittlemorethanatrack.Withinthirtysecondsthetopoftheslopehidusfrom the sentries. Fischer glancedback to see thatwewerewithhim,andthenwalkedonatamoreleisurelypace.Ahead was a strip of sea and beyond it the lights of Selimiye and

HaydarpasarontheAsianside.Otherlightsmovedacrossthewater—aferry and small fishing boats. In the daylight, tourists with moviecameraswastehundredsof feetof filmontheview.Isupposeit’sverybeautiful.Personally,Ineverwanttoseeitagain—inanysortoflight.Aftera coupleofminutes’walkingwecame toanother track,which

ledoff to theright towards theouterwall.Fischercrossed itandwentstraightondownoverastretchofwasteland.Therewerepilesofrubblefromarchaeologicaldiggings,andpartwasterracedasifithadatsometime been cultivated as a vineyard. At the bottom was the railwayembankment.There was a wooden fence running alongside it, and Miller and I

waitedwhileFischerfoundthedamagedsectionwhichhehadchosenonan earlier reconnaissance as the bestway through. Itwas about thirtyyardstotheright.Weclamberedoversomebrokenboardstothesideofthe embankment and walked along the drainage ditch. Five minutes

later itwas possible to see the bigwall again.Wewalked on anotherhundred feet, and there the embankment ended. Ifwewere to go anyfartherwehadtoclimbupandwalkalongthetrackoverthebridge.Fischerstoppedandturned.“Whatisthetime?”“Ten-fifteen,”saidMiller.“Whereistheguardpostexactly?”“On the other side of the bridge, a hundredmeters from here.” Heturnedtome.“Nowlisten.Atrainwillbecomingsoon.Whenitstartstocrossthebridgewegotothetopoftheembankment.Assoonasthelastwagon has passed us, we start to follow along the tracks at walkingspeed.When we have gone about twentymeters we will hear a loudexplosionahead.Thenwestart torun,butnot toofast.Haveyoueversmelledteargas?”“Yes.”“Youwillsmellitagain,butdonotworry.Itisourteargas,nottheirs.And therewill be smoke, too, also ours. The trainwill have just gonethrough. The guard post will not knowwhat is happening. Theymaythink the trainhasblownup. Itdoesnotmatter.The teargasand thesmokewillmake ithard for themto think,orsee. Ifanyof themtriestoohardhewillgetabulletoraplasticgrenadetodiscouragehim.Intheconfusionwerunthrough.Andthen,asItoldyou,theVolkswagenwillbewaitingforus.”“Whataboutourconfusion?”Isaid.“Howdoweseewheretogowithteargasandsmoke?”Millernodded.“Iaskedthesamequestion,myfriend.Weshouldhavehadrespirators.ButKarl’sargumentwasgood.Withsomuchtoconceal,howcouldwecarryrespirators,too?”“Imade the experiment,” Fischer said defensively. “I tried to take arespiratorin.Theystoppedmebecauseofthebulgeinmypocket.Theythought I was trying to smuggle a camera into the Seraglio. They arestrictaboutthat,asyouknow.Itwasembarrassing.”“Howdidyouexplainit?”Millerasked.“IsaidIwasadoctor.”“Theybelievedyou?”“If you sayyouare adoctor, peoplewill believe anything.Weneednot worry where to go. We simply follow the rail tracks and leaveeverything to Karl.We have done ourwork for this evening.Nowweonlywaitforourtrain.”

Wewaitedtwenty-fiveminutes.It was a mixed train, Fischer said, carrying newspapers, mail-bags,localfreight,andafewpassengerstothesmalltownsbetweenIstanbuland Pehlivanköy. It chuffed towards the bridge as noisily andimportantly as the Orient Express. There was a slight offshore breezeblowing.Thethickblacksmokefromtheenginerolledalongoursideoftheembankmentandengulfedus.“Los!Vorwärts!”Fischershouted,and,coughingandspluttering,MillerandIscrambledafterhimuptheembankment.Forhalfaminutewestayedtherewiththetrainwheelsclackingovera joint in the railsabout three feet fromournoses.Then, the lastaxleboxwentby.“Los!”saidFischeragain,andwewerestumblingalongthesideofthetracksbetweenthejuttingendsofthetiesandtheparapetofthebridge.Wemusthavebeenaboutseventyyardsfromtheguardpostwhentheconcussion grenadewent off, and even at that distance the detonationmade my ears sing. In front of me Fischer began to trot. Almostimmediatelyhetrippedoversomethingandfell. Iheardhimgaspwithpainashis leftarmhita tie;buthewasonhis feetandmovingagainbeforeIgottohim.Therewasshoutingaheadnow,andIcouldheartheplunking,sizzlingnoiseof tear-gasand smokegrenadesdetonating.The train smokewasstill billowing around, but a moment later I got the first whiff ofchemical smoke. Three yards more and I saw the white bandage onFischer’srighthandgotohisforehead.Then,Iwasintheteargas,too,andthefirstexcruciatingreactionofthesinusesbegantospreadintomyeyes. Iblunderedon,choking.As the tearsbegan toblindme,anotherconcussiongrenadewentoff.Then,ashapeloomedupoutofthesmokeandarespiratorgoggledatme;ahandgrippedmyarmandsteeredmetotheright.Ihadavague,tear-blurredimpressionofalightedroomanda man in uniform with his hands above his drooping head leaningagainstawall.Then,thearmbelongingtothehandwassupportingmeasIstumbleddownalongflightofsteps.I was out of the smoke now and I could just see the door of theVolkswagen van. The arm shoved me towards it. I almost fell inside.Fischerwasalreadythere,hawkingandcoughing.Moregrenadeswereexploding on the bridge above as Miller scrambled in after me. Then

therewasasoundofrunning feetandthemenin therespiratorspiledin. Someone pressed the starter. A moment later the van was on themove. I was crouched on the floor against one of the empty packingcasesandsomebodywastreadingonmyfeet.Thestinkofteargaswaseverywhere.IheardHarper’svoicefromthefrontpassengerseat.“Everythingokay,Leo?”Millerwascoughingandchucklingatthesametime.“Thedogshavefedandclothedthemselves,”hewheezed.

11

TherewerefivemenbesidesHarperintherespirators,butmyeyeswerestillsopainfulthatIdidn’tseeanyoftheirfaceswellenoughtobeabletoidentifythem.OneofthemwasnamedFranzandhespokeGermanaswell asTurkish. I know,because I heardhimuseboth languages—theGermantoFischer.TheotherfouronlyspokeTurkish,Ithink.Ican’tbecertain,becauseIwasonlywiththemafewminutes,andIwascoughingmostofthetime.The van must have gone about three miles when it slowed down,

madeawideUturn,andstopped.Harperopenedthedoorfromtheoutside.Miller was nearest the door and he got out first. I followed, with

Fischerbehindme.Theothermenjustmovedenoughtomakewayforus.ThenHarpershutthedooragainandthevanwasdrivenoff.“Thisway,”Harpersaid.Wewereoppositeoneofthebigwoodyardsbyanunloadingpierand

somebeachedcaïques.Heledthewayalongthepier.IwasbeginningtoseewellenoughagainnowtorecognizeGiuliostandingupintheBulut’soutboarddinghy.Weclimbeddownintoit.IheardGiulioaskingwhoIwasandbeingtoldthathewouldfindoutlater.Thenthemotorstarted,andweshotawayfromthepier.TheBulutwasanchoredaquarterofamileaway,andamanondeck,

Enrico presumably, was at the small gangway waiting to help us onboard.Ifollowedtheotherstothesaloon.By the time I reached thebottomof thenarrowcompanionway that

led down to it, Harperwas already untying the drawstring ofMiller’svelvetbag,whiletheotherscrowdedroundtolook.Isawtheglitterofdozensof green and red stones and I heardGiuliodraw inhis breath.Thestonesdidn’tlookallthatlargetome;but,ofcourse,Iamnojudgeofsuchthings.

Harperwasgrinninghisheadoff.“Nothingbutthebest,Leo,”hesaid.“You’reagreatman.”“Howmuch?”saidFischer.“Better than amillion and a half,” Harper replied. “Let’s be on ourwayassoonaswecan,Giulio.”“Pronto.”Giuliobrushedpastmeandwentup thecompanionway.Thereweresandwichesanddrinkssetoutattheotherendofthetable.Whiletheydrooledoverthestones,Ipouredmyselfalargewhisky.Harper looked across at me. “Aren’t you interested in the loot,Arthur?”I had a sudden desire to hit him. I shrugged indifferently. “I’m notinterested in counting chickens,” I said. “I’ll settle for two thousanddollars,cashonthebarrel.”They all stared at me in silence for a moment. The deck began tovibrateastheboat’sdieselsstartedup.Harper glanced at Miller. “I take it Arthur behaved himself thisevening.”“Hewasadamnednuisance,”Fischersaidspitefully.Harperignoredhim.“Well,Leo?”“He was afraid,” Miller answered; “but what he did was enough.UnderthecircumstancesIthinkhedidwell.”Harper looked at me again. “Why the cracks, Arthur? What’s theproblem?”“Howdoyouimagineyou’regoingtogetawaywithit?”“Oh,Isee.”Herelaxedagain,allsmiles.“SoourArthur’sworriedthatthe bloodhounds are going to start snapping at his butt, is he? Well,forgetit.Theywon’t.AlltheyknowsofaristhatabunchofarmedmeninaVolkswagenvan rougheduponeof their guardposts. So the firstthingthey’lldoissetupblocksonalltheroadsleadingoutofthecityand look for the van. They’ll find it, abandoned, over inGalata. Thenthey’llstarttheusualroutine—Who’stheowner?Whereishe?Whatdidhelooklike?—andgetnoplace.Bythen,though,they’llhavedonesomethinking,too,andsomebigbrainwillbestartingtowonderwhyithadto be that particular post and why nobody got killed—why a lot ofthings.HemayeventhinkofcheckingouttheTreasuryMuseumandsocomeupwiththerightanswer.Whenhedoes,they’lldoubleuponthe

roadblocksandthrowoutthedragnet.Onlywewon’tbeinsideit.We’llbe going ashore at a little place sixtymiles fromhere and two hours’easy driving from Edirne and the frontier.” He patted my arm. “Andwherewegoashore,Arthur,MissLippwillbewaitingtopickusup.”“WiththeLincoln?”“What else?Wewouldn’twant towalk,wouldwe, or leavewithoutourbags?”Ihadtolaugh.Icouldn’thelpit.Anditdidn’tmatter,becauseHarperthoughtthatitwasthebeautyofhisplanthatIfoundsoamusing,andnotthebloodygreatholeinit.Ithoughtofthecustomsinspector’sfacewhentheLincolndroveupforclearance—ifTufanallowedittogetthatfar—andwhenhesawmeagain.IlaughedsomuchthatFischerbeganto laugh, too. It was the best moment I had had in days. I ate somesandwiches and had another drink. There was garlic sausage in thesandwiches,butIdidn’tevenhaveatwingeofindigestion.Ithoughtmyworrieswereover.TheplaceweweretogoashorewasaportcalledSerefli,afewmilessouthofCorlu.Harpersaidthatitwouldtakefivehourstogetthere.IcleanedoffthefilthIhadcollectedfromtheSeraglioroofasbestIcouldandwenttosleepinthesaloon.Theothersusedthecabins.GiulioandEnricorantheboatbetweenthem.I foundoutlaterthattheyhadsenttheboat’sregularcrewashoreatPendikforaneveningonthetown,andthen slipped out of the harbor after dark. The patrol boat that wassupposedtobekeepinganeyeontheBulutmisseditcompletely.Itwasgetting lightwhenvoices in the saloonwokeme.HarperandMiller were drinking coffee, and Fischer was trying tomake his dirtybandages look more presentable by brushing them. He seemed to behaving some sort of discussion with Harper. As it was in German, Icouldn’t understand. Then Harper looked at me and saw that I wasawake.“Arthurcanuseascrewdriver,”hesaid,“ifyoujustshowhimwhattodo.”“Whichdoor?”Fischerasked.“Doesitmatter?Howabouttherightrear?”“Weweretalkingaboutasafeplacefortheloot,”Harpersaidtome.“Insideoneofthecardoorsseemsagoodplaceforthecustomspeopletoforgetabout.”

“Arthurwouldnotknowaboutsuchthings,”Millersaidwaggishly.They had a good laugh over that gem of wit, while I tried to look

mystified.Luckily,Enricocamein just thenandsaidthatwewouldbeenteringportintenminutes.Ihadsomeofthecoffeeandastalesandwich.Harperwentuptothe

wheelhouse. Half an hour later, the sunwas up andweweremooredalongsideastonejetty.Fishermenareearlyrisersandtheharborwasalreadybusy.Cuttlefish

boats were unloading the night’s catch at the quayside. Caïques withsingle-cylinder engineswere chugging out to sea. A port official cameaboard tocollectdues.Afterawhile,Harpercamedownandsaid thathewasgoingashoretomakesurethatMissLippwasthere.HeleftthevelvetbagwithFischer.He returned fifteenminutes later and reported that the Lincolnwas

parkedinasidestreetbesideacafé-restaurantonthemainsquare.MissLippwasintherestauranteatingbreakfast.Thesidestreetwasaquietone.FischerandIcouldgetbusyonthedoor.Wewouldbeallowedhalfanhourtocompletethejob.Fischer borrowed a screwdriver from Enrico and we went ashore.

Nobodyseemedtotakeanynoticeofus,probablybecausewelookedsoscruffy.Icouldn’tseetheOpelorthePeugeotanywhereabout,butthatdidn’tworryme.Iknewthatoneorotherofthemwouldbeontap.Wefound the car without difficulty and I started on the door. It was anordinaryscrewdriverIhadtoworkwith,buttheearlierremovalsofthepanel had eased the screws and I didn’t do any more damage to theleather. It tookme tenminutes to take the panel off, five seconds forFischertowedgethevelvetbaginclearofthewindowmechanism,andfifteenminutesformetoreplacethepanel.ThenFischerandIgotintothebackseat.Twominutes later,MissLippcameoutof therestaurantand got behind thewheel. If shehad slept the previous night it couldonlyhavebeenattheinninCorlu;butshelookedasfreshasshealwaysdid.“Good morning, Hans. Good morning, Arthur. The others are just

comingacrossthesquarenow,”shesaid.They arrived amoment after.Harper got in the front seatwith her.

Millersatonmyleft.Shesaid“goodmorning”toMiller,anddroveoffthemomentsheheardthedoorclose.

FromSereflitoCorlu,wherewewouldjointhemainIstanbul-Edirneroad,therearetwelvemilesofnarrowsecondaryroad.Thefirstmileorso is winding, and I waited until we got to a straighter part before Iriskedalookback.ThePeugeotwasthere,andIcaughtaglimpseofanothercarbehindit.TheOpelwasonthejobaswell.Harper had started tellingMiss Lipp about the night’swork and thesizeofthehaul.Millerwasputtinginhisword,too.Therewasalotofmutual congratulation. It was like being in the winning team’s bus. Iwasn’tneededintheconversation,anddidn’thavetolistentoiteither.Icouldthink.Therewereseveralpossibleexplanationsforthetwocarsbeingthere.MissLipphadprobablydriven straight toCorlu from thegarage, afterdroppingusthepreviousafternoon.BythetimeshehadlefttheIstanbularea,Tufanmusthavebeentoldthatthemenwerenolongerinthecar,andrealizedthathisonlyhopeofre-establishingcontactlayinkeepingtrackof theLincoln.TheOpelcouldhavebeen sent tomake sure thattherewerenofurthermistakes.Oritmayhavebeentocompensateforlack of radio communication outside the Istanbul area. The two carscouldtalktooneanother;ifanurgentreportbecamenecessary,onecarcould stop and reach Istanbul by telephonewhile the other continuedthe surveillance. Then a third possibility occurred to me. Tufan musthavebeentoldabouttheattackontheguardpost.Assoonasheheardthedetails—smoke,teargas,concussiongrenades,sixmeninrespirators—hewouldknowthattheattackandtheLincolnwererelated.IfhealsoknewthattheBuluthadleftPendikandthattheLincolnhadstoppedatCorlu,hemighthavedecidedthatreinforcementswerenecessaryinthatarea.Theonlycertainty,Idecidedsourly,wasthatTufanwouldnotbethe“big brain” who would think of checking the Treasury Museum. Hewouldstillbeoffonhispoliticalwild-goosechase.Well,hewouldhavesomesurprisescoming.AtthatmomentMissLippsaidsharply:“Karl!”Millerhadbeen in themiddleof saying somethingandhebrokeoffabruptly.“Whatisit?”Harpersaid.“Thatbrowncarbehindus.ItwasbehindmeyesterdaywhenIdrove

outfromIstanbul.IthoughtthenthatI’dnoticeditbefore,earlierintheday.Infact,IwassosurethatwhenIstoppedatCorluIwaitedtogetalookatit.Whenitdidn’tshowupIfiguredithadturnedoffsomewhereandthoughtnomoreaboutit.”“Don’t look around, anyone,” Harper said. He swiveled the driving

mirror so that he could look behind. After a moment, he said: “Tryslowingdown.”Shedid so. Iknewwhatwouldhappen.ThePeugeotwouldkeep its

distance. After about a minute, Harper twisted the mirror back intoposition.“Doyouthinkyoucouldloseit?”hesaid.“Notontheseroads.”“Okay.Justkeepgoing.Doesn’tlooklikeapolicecar.Iwonder…”“Franz!”Fischersaidsuddenly.“Allsetforalittlehijackingoperation,youmean?”“Whynot?”“Hecouldhavedonethatbetterlastnightwhenhehadusinthevan,”

saidMiller.“I’mnotsosure,”saidHarper.“Hemighthavefiguredthat itwould

besafertowaituntilwewerealloutsidethecity.”“ButFranzdidn’tknowthisendoftheplan,”MissLippobjected.“Ifheputatailonyou,”Fischersaid,“hecouldhaveguessed.”“Wellwe’llsoonfindout,”Harpersaidgrimly.“Thereareonlytwoof

them in that car. If it’s Franzwe’redealingwith, thatprobablymeansthathe’ssetupanambushsomewhereaheadwithhisothertwomugs.Thatmakes five.Weonlyhave threeguns, sowe’dbetter takecareofthislotfirst.We’llpickaspotwithsometreesandthenpullofftheroad.Okay?”“MayIlookroundatthiscar?”Iasked.“Why?”“ToseeifIrecognizeit.”IknewthatIhadtodosomething.IftheystartedshootingatTurkish

security agents, Turkish security agents were going to start shootingback—and theyweren’t going to stop to ask questions orworry aboutwhogothit.“Okay,”hesaid;“butmakeitcasual.”Ilookedback.“Well?”heasked.

“I don’t recognize the brown one,” I said; “but there’s another onebehindit,agrayOpel.”“That’sright,”MissLippsaid;“it’sbeentheresometime.Butsowhat?

Theroad’stoonarrowforpassing.”“I’m almost sure it was outside that garage yesterday afternoon.” I

triedtosoundlikeareallyworriedman.Itwasn’tverydifficult.“TherearemanygrayOpels,”Millersaid.“Butnotwithsuchaverylongradioaerial.ThatiswhyInoticedit.”Harperhadswiveledthemirroragainandwaspeeringintoit.“You’d

betterlook,too,Leo,”hesaidgrimly.“Seetheantenna?”Millerlookedandswore.“Itcouldbeacoincidence,”hesaid.“Couldbe.Doyouwanttotakeachanceonit?”“No,”saidFischer.“Iagree,”saidMiller;“butwhatdowedoaboutthem?”Harperthoughtforamoment.Thenheasked:“Howmuchfartherto

Corlu?”“Aboutthreekilometers,”MissLippanswered.“ThenhemusthaveitsetupsomewherebetweenCorluandEdirne.”“So?”“So, insteadof turning left atCorluandgoing toEdirne,we change

ourplansandturnright.”“ButthatwouldtakeusbacktoIstanbul,”Millerobjected.“Notalltheway,”Harpersaid;“onlyasfarastheairportandthefirst

planeout.”“Leavingthecarbehind?”askedMissLipp.“Don’tworry,sweetie.We’llallbeabletobuyfleetsofLincolnswhen

wecashinthispileofchips.”Suddenlytheywereallsmilesagain.I triedto think. Itwasbarelyseven-thirtyandtherunfromCorluto

theIstanbulAirportatYesilköywouldtakelittlemorethananhour.Itwas Wednesday, which meant that the Treasury Museum wouldnormally stay closed until the followingday.Unless the big brain hadalreadystartedworking,orunlessTufanhaddecidedtostopuncoveringnonexistent terroristplots and let thepoliceknowwhatwasgoingon,therewaseverychance that,withinacoupleofhours,Harperand therestwouldbeoutof thecountry. Inthatcase, ifanyoneweregoingtostopthemitwouldhavetobeme.Thequestionwas:DidIwanttostop

them?Whydidn’tIjustgoalongwiththemandcollectmytwothousanddollars?IwasstilltiredandconfusedorIwouldhaverememberedthattherecould be only one answer to that—my passport was not valid and anairlinewould not carryme. But instead of the answer, another stupidquestioncameintomymind;and,stupidly,Iaskedit.“AmIincludedinthis?”Harper turned right round in his seat to faceme, and gaveme thecold,unpleasantsmileIlikedleast.“Included,Arthur?Why?Didyouhavesomethingelse inmind—likemakingaquickdealwithFranz,forinstance,oreventhepolice?”“Ofcoursenot.Ijustwantedtobecertain.”“Well,thatmakesfiveofuswhowanttobecertain.Don’tyouworry,Arthur.Untilwe’reonthatplanewiththelootallsafeandsound,you’renot even going to the can by yourself. That’s how much you’reincluded.”Fischer and Miller thought that hilariously amusing. Miss Lipp, Inoticed,waskeepingherattentiondividedbetweentheroadaheadandthecarsbehind.We came to Corlu and turned right onto the main Istanbul road.Harperbegantoorganizethechangeofplan.“Thefirstthingistogetthestuffoutofthedoor.Hans,you’dbetterchangeplaceswithArthur.Hecangetbusynow.”“He can’t,” Fischer said. “There are seven screws on the rear door.Withthedoorshuthecannotgetatthem.Thedoorhastobeopen.”“Allthewayopen?”“Nearly.”Harperlookedattheheavydoors.Theywerehingedattherear,andwould swingopen against thewind.Weweredoingover sixty. Itwasobviouslyoutofthequestiontotakethepaneloffwhilewewereonthemove.Henodded.“Allright.Here’swhatwe’lldo.Assoonaswegettothe airport, Elizabeth and Leowill take all the passports and get busybuyingticketsandfillingoutpassportcardsandcustomsformsforallofus.Right?”Theynodded.“Then I follow them inside just to check on the flight number andboardingtimesothatweallknowwhatthescoreis.AssoonasIhave

that, IreturntothecarandArthurdrivesustotheparkinglot.There,weopenthedoorandgetthestuff.Whenit’sout,Hansgetsportersandweunloadthebaggage.Weleavethecaronthepark.Anyquestions?”“Youcouldunloadthebaggagefirst,”saidMiller;“whilethecarisinfront.”“Maybe. If we have plenty of time. If we don’t have too much, I’dsoonermakesureofthelootfirst.”“We must have some baggage for the customs,” Miss Lipp put in.“Peoplewithoutbaggagegetapersonalsearch.”“Allright.We’llunloadjustthestufffrominsidethecarandleavetherestuntillater.”There was a murmur of agreement. Miller asked: “If there are twoflightsavailablewithinashorttime,whichdowetake?”“IfoneofthemfliesoveralotofTurkishterritory—say,toAleppoorBeirut—wetaketheother.Otherwise,wetakethefirst.”Theywentondiscussingwhichcitytheywouldpreferasadestination.Iwaswonderingwhatwouldhappenif I toldthemaboutmypassport.FromHarper,Idecided,therewouldbeonlyonereaction;iftheycouldnot take me with them, yet dared not leave me because I knew toomuch,Iwouldhavetobeeliminatedfromthepicturealtogether.Therewouldbeacorpseonthefloorofthecartheyleftbehindthem.Ontheotherhand,ifIwaiteduntilthepassportwaschallengedattheairport,therewasn’tmuch theycoulddo. I couldyellmyheadoff,demand toseeasecurityofficialandtellhimtocontactTufan.True,thethreemenhadguns;buteveniftheymanagedtoshoottheirwayoutoftheplace,Iwouldstandabetterchanceofcomingoutofitalive.“Anymoreproblems?”Harperasked.“No?Okay,then,let’shavethepassports.”Inearlythrewup,butmanagedtocoughinstead.Fischer askedme to get his out of his inside pocket for him.Millerpassed his over and Harper flipped through the pages. I gave himFischer’s.MissLippsaid:“Mybagisonthefloor,ifyouwanttoputtheminitnow.”“Okay. Where’s yours, Arthur?” Has any boy not handed in hishomework?Ihandedthewretchedthingtohimandwaited.

He lingered over my vital statistics. “Know something, Arthur? I’dhave said youwere a good three years older. Toomuchouzo and notenough exercise, that’s your trouble.” And then, of course, his tonechanged.“Waitaminute!Thisisovertwomonthsoutofdate!”“Outofdate?Butitcan’tbe!”IknowIhandedinmyworkwiththerest,

sir.“Lookatit!”Heleanedoverandjammeditundermynose.“ButIhadnotroublecomingin.Yousee,there’sthevisa!”“Whatdifferencedoesthatmake,youstupidslob?It’soutofdate!”He

gloweredatmeandthen,unexpectedly,turnedtoMissLipp.“Whatdoyouthink?”Shekepthereyesontheroadassheanswered.“Whenyouleavehere

the immigration people are mostly interested in seeing that the exitcards are properly filled in. He’ll get by there. It’s the airline-countercheckthatmatters.Theyareresponsibleattheportofdisembarkationifpapersarenotinorder.We’llhavetowriteinarenewal.”“Withoutaconsularstamp?”She thought for a moment. “There’s a Swiss airmail stamp in my

purse,Ithink.Wecouldusethat.Tentoonetheywon’tlookatitcloselyifthereiswritingacrossit.Anyway,I’llkeepthemtalking.”“Whataboutwhereweland?”askedMiller.“Supposingtheycatchit

there?”“That’shisworry,”Harpersaid.“Notiftheysendhimbackhere.”“Theywouldn’t trouble to do that. It’s not that serious. The airport

policewouldholdhimuntiltheairlinecouldgettheEgyptianconsultocomeoutandfixtherenewal.”“Hehas beennothingbut a nuisance from thebeginning.”Thiswas

Fischer,ofcourse.“Hewasusefulenoughlastnight,”remarkedMissLipp.“Bytheway,

thatrenewalhadbetterbeinhishandwriting.WoulditbeinArabic?”“French and Arabic, both.” Harper stuck the stamp on the renewal

space.“Okay,Arthur.Hereyouare.Writeacrossthecenterofthestamp.‘Bon jusqu’au,’ let’s see—make it April ten of next year. Then do it inArabic.Youcan,Isuppose?”IdidasIwastold—asever—andhandedthepassportbacktohim.Ididn’tknowwhereIstoodnow.IftheplanewenttoAthensImight

beabletogetawaywithit;IstillhadmyGreekpermisdeséjourtofallback on. But if I went to Vienna, or Frankfurt, or Rome, or (hideousthought) Cairo, then I’d be completely up the creek. I would have towait until I knewwhether theywere going to Athens or not, before Idecidedwhether I would go along or try to stay. If I wanted to stay,though, it would be more difficult now. With Harper and Fischerkeepingtheireyesonme,andnoofficialtosinglemeoutbecauseofmyinvalidpassport, yelling forhelpwouldn’tdomuchgood.Aquickclipon the jaw from Harper and some fast talking—“So sorry. Our friendtrippedandhit hisheadona suitcase.He’ll be all right in amoment.We’lltakecareofhim”—wouldbetheendofthat.Iwouldhavetorelyupon the surveillance cars. The only trouble was that before theyregaineddirectcontactwithTufan,wewouldbeattheairport.Iwouldhavetogivethemeninthecarstimetodrawtherightconclusionsandissuethenecessaryorders.Icouldonlythinkofonewayofcausingadelay.WhenIhadfinished

putting back the door panel, I had slipped the screwdriver into mypocket.Therewasn’tanotheroneinthecar,Iknew.WhileweweregoingthroughMimarsinan,fifteenminutesorsoaway

fromtheairport,Imanagedtoeasethescrewdriverfrommypocketandlet it slide back on the seat until Iwas sitting on it. Aminute or twolater,Ipretendedtostretchmylegsandstuffeditdeepdownbehindtheseatcushionandbelowthebackof theseat. If Iwantedtogo, Icould“find” it; if Iwanted todelay, I could look for it in vainon the floor.Thatway,Ithought,Iwouldatleasthavesomesortofcontroloverthesituation.AndthenMissLippbegantoworryagainaboutthePeugeotandthe

Opel.“They’re still tailing us,” she said. “I don’t get it. Franz must have

guessedwherewe’reheadingforbynow.Whatdoeshethinkhe’sgoingtodo?”“Supposingitisn’tFranz?”Millersaidsuddenly.“If it isn’tFranz,who is it?”Fischerdemanded irritably. “Theycan’t

bepoliceortheywouldhavestoppedus.CoulditbeGiulio?”“That is an imbecile suggestion,” Miller retorted. “Giulio is of our

company. You are not. If youwere, youwould not say such a stupidthing.”

Ihaveauniquecapacityforself-destruction.Isaid,helpfully:“PerhapsitisFranz.Perhapshethinksthatwearegoingbacktothevilla.Ifwewere,wewouldstillbeonthisroad.”Harperlookedback.“Whenwillheknowbetter,Arthur?”“Notuntilweturnrightfortheairport.”“Howfaristheturn-off?”“Aboutsixmiles.”“Howfarthen?”“Amileandahalf.”He looked atMiss Lipp. “Do you think you could lose them so that

theywouldn’tseeusmaketheturn?”“Icouldtry.”TheLincolnsurgedforward.SecondslaterIsawtheredspeedometer

needleswingpasttheninetymark.Harperlookedback.Afteraminute,hesaid:“Leavingthemcold.”“We’regoingtoofastforthisroad”wasallshesaid.Itdidn’tseemto

beworryingherunduly,though.Shepassedtwocarsandatruckgoinginthesamedirectionasiftheywerestandingstill.I already knew that I hadmade a badmistake, and didmy best to

retrieve it. “There’s a bridge amile or so ahead,” I warned her. “Theroadnarrows.You’llhavetoslowdownforthat.”Shedidn’t answer. Iwasbeginning to sweat. If the surveillance cars

lostus,thatwasreallytheendasfarasIwasconcerned.Shebeataconvoyofarmytruckstothebridgebyfiftyyards.Onthe

otherside,theroadwoundalittleandshehadtoslowdowntoseventy;butwhenIlookedbacktherewasn’tacarinsight.Asshebrakedhardandturnedrightontotheairportroad,Harperchuckled.“For that extra ounce of get-up-and-go,” he announced facetiously,

“thereisnothing,butnothing,likeaLincolnContinental.”There’snothing like feelinga completebloodyhalf-wit either.When

we drew up outside the airport building,my legs were quivering likeGeven’slowerlip.Millerwasoutofthecarandintothebuildingalmostbeforethecar

hadstopped.MissLippandHarperfollowedwhileFischerandIhandedthebagsinsidethecar,mineincluded,toaporter.I couldn’t help looking back along the airport approach road and

Fischernoticed.Hesmiledatmylily-liveredanxiety.

“Don’tbeafraid.TheyareontheirwaytoSariyerbynow.”“Yes.”Iknewthatatleastoneofthemwouldbe;butIalsoknewthat

themeninthecarswerenotincompetent.Whentheyfailedtopickupthe Lincoln again, the second carwould turn back and try the airportroad. How long would it take them to get the idea, though? Fiveminutes?Ten?Harpercameoutofthebuildingandhurriedtothecar.“There’s an Air France jet to Rome,” he said. “Seats available.

Boardingintwentyminutes.Let’sgetmoving.”Idrovetothecarpark,achain-fencedareajustofftheloopofroadin

frontof thebuildingandbeyond the taxi rank.Therewereonlya fewcarsalreadythereand,onHarper’sinstructions,Ibackedintoanemptyspacebetweentwoofthem.“Whereisthescrewdriver?”Fischerasked.“Onthe floor.” Iwasstillbacking thecarandcouldsee thathewas

alreadysearchingforit.“Itmusthaverolledunderoneoftheseats,”Harpersaidimpatiently.

“Okay,Arthur,that’lldo.Let’sgetthedoorsopensowecansee.”Ipulledup,gotout,andimmediatelybegantryingtopeerunderthe

seats.WithaLincolnthereisnotmuchtosee.Theseatsaresnugagainstthefloor.“Oh,forGod’ssake!”Harpersaidangrily.Suddenlyhegrabbedatmy

jacket.“Youmusthaveputitinyourpocket.”Hestartedslappingthemtofindout.“Iputitonthefloor.”“Well,itisn’ttherenow,”Fischersaid.Harperglancedathiswatch.“Itmusthavebeenpulledoutwiththe

baggage.”“ShallIgobackandlook?”“No,getoneoutofthetoolkit.”“Thereisn’tonethere,”Fischersaid.“Inoticedthatbefore.”“Okay, see if it’s on the ground back there.” As Fischer hurried off,

Harperlookedatthenextcartous,aRenault,andtriedthefrontdoors.They were locked, of course. Then he tried the front luggagecompartment.Tomyhorror,itopened.Thenextmomenthehadatoolrollinhishandandwastakingascrewdriverfromit.He grinned. “If the owner comes back, we’ll buy it off him as a

souvenir,”he said,andquicklywent toworkon thedoorpanelof theLincoln.IwasutterlydesperateorIcouldneverhavedonewhatIdid;butasI

stood there gaping at him I became aware of the sound of the enginerunning.Ihadn’tfinishedbackingthecarintolinewiththeotherswhenhehadmademestop.ThenIhadsimplyforgottentoswitchoff.Thedoortothedriver’sseatwasopenandsowerebothbackdoors.

Hewascrouchedover thepanelof the right-handoneon theoppositesideofthecarfromme.I glanced at the car-park entrance tomake sure that Fischer wasn’t

comingback;andthenImoved.Iwenttothedoorbythedriver’sseat,leanedacross itas if Iweregoingtoswitchoff theengine,andlookedacrossthebackoftheseat.Harperwasbendingdowntoundooneofthescrewsbythehinge.Islidintothedriver’sseatgentlysoasnottorockthecar,andeased

thetransmissionleverfrom“Park”to“Drive.”Thecargaveaslightjerk.AtthesamemomentIstampedontheaccelerator.Iheardathumpasthedoorsenthimflying,thenIspunthewheeland

washeadingforthecar-parkentrance.About twenty feet from it, I jammedon thebrakesand the tworear

doors swung shut with a slam. Through the rear window I could seeHarper scrambling to his feet. As I closed the door beside me Iacceleratedagainandwentthroughontotheroad.AmomentlaterIwashalfwayroundtheloop.Anothercaraheadslowedmeforamoment.InthedrivingmirrorIsawHarperrunningtowardsthetaxirank.Ileanedonthehornringandthecarinfrontswerved.ThenIwasoutoftheloopandontheapproachroad.I had gone about a mile when the Opel passed me going in the

oppositedirection. Iwaved frantically,butkeptongoing. Ididn’tcarewhethertheythoughtI’dgonemadornot.AllIwantedwastogetawayfromHarper.IwentondrivingfasttowardsIstanbuluntilIsawinthemirrorthat

theOpelwasbehindme.OnlythendidIstop.Itwasn’tmyfaultthattheytookallthattimetocatchupwithme.

12

“TheDirectorisnotpleasedwithyou,”Tufaninformedme.ItwasonthetipofmytonguetotellhimwhattheDirectorcouldgo

anddotohimself;butImanagedtokeepmytemper.“Yougotthestuffback,”Iremindedhimsharply;“youhavethenamesanddescriptionsofthepeoplewhotookit.Youknowwhatwasdoneandhowitwasdone.Whatmoredoyouwant?”“Thewomanandthethreemen,”hesnapped.Thenerveofit!“Itwasn’tIwholetthemgetonthatplanetoRome,”I

said.“It was your stupidity that did. If you hadn’t panicked, if you had

stoppedimmediatelywhenyousawtheOpelinsteadofdrivingofflikeamadman, they would be in prison now. As it was, they got a closeenough look at my men to realize their mistake. We had had noinformationfromyou.Bythetimewewereabletore-establishcontactwithyou,naturallytheyhadgone.”“TheycanbearrestedinRome.Youcanextraditethem.”“Notwithoutacasestrongenoughtojustifyextraditionproceedings.”“Youhaveit.I’vetoldyouwhathappened.”“Andwhatdoyouthinkyourevidencewouldbeworth inanItalian

court?”hedemanded.“Yousmuggledtheexplosivesin.Whoistheretoconfirm your story of the subsequent robbery? Theywould have yourrecord from Interpol to discredit you. Is the court to extradite fourpersonsonyourunsupportedword thatyouhave told the truth?Theywouldlaughatus!”“WhataboutGiulioandEnrico?”“Very sensibly, for them, they are saying nothing useful. They

chartered a yacht. They decided to go for a night cruise. They werehailedbysomemen inacaiquewhosaid that theirmotorhadbrokendown.TheytookthemtoSerefliandputthemashore. Is thatacrime?

Tomorrowthepolicewillhavetoletthemgo.Thereisnothingwecando.Yourmistake,Simpson,wasinnotcarryingoutorders.”“Whatorders,forGod’ssake?”“TheordersIgaveyouinthisveryroom.Youweretoldtoreport.Youfailed todo so. Itwasunfortunate that thepacket youdropped in thegaragewasoverlooked,butyouhadotheropportunities.YoucouldhavereportedatSerefli.Youcouldhavedroppedyourguide’s licenseat theguardpostasyouweretakenthrough.Therewaswantofimagination.Wehavenochoicebuttoabandontheinquiry.”“Includingtheinquiryabouttheattackontheguardpost?”Helookedlikeamanwho,havingjustrealizedthathisflyisundone,hasdecidedthathecanonlyignorethefact.“That,”hesaidloftily,“hasalready been described officially to the newspapers as an unsuccessfulattemptbydissidentelementstoblowupatrain.”There was no polite comment I could make on that one, so I justshruggedandlookedoverhisheadatthepictureofAbdulHamidbeingdeposed.Hestoodup,asiftoendthediscussion,andsmootheddownthefrontof his tunic. “Luckily for you,” he said, “the Director is not entirelydissatisfiedwiththeaffair.TheBureauhasrecoveredtheproceedsofaseriousrobberywhich theCriminalPolicedidnotevenknowabout. Itshowsthatwearenotatthemercyofevents,butinchargeofthem,thatwe anticipate. You were not entirely useless to us. As a result theDirectorhasauthorizedthepaymenttoyouofabonus.”“SoIshouldthink.Howmuch?”“Fivethousandlira,togetherwithpermissiontosellthemforforeignexchange,dollarsorpoundssterling,attheofficialrate.”ForamomentIthoughthemusthavemadeamistake.“Lira,Major?Youmeandollars,don’tyou?”“ImeanTurkishlira,”hesaidstiffly.“Butthat’sonlyfivehundreddollars—twohundredpounds!”“Approximately. The fact that your suitcase and other personalbelongingswerelosthasalsobeentakenintoconsideration.Inaddition,arrangements are being made to have the various smuggling chargesagainst you withdrawn. A favorable report on you will be made toInterpol.Ithinkyouwillagreethatyouhavebeengenerouslytreated.”Akickinthestomachcouldn’thavebeenmoregenerous.

IopenedmymouthtotellhimthatIwishednowthatIhadtakenmychance inRome; but then I gaveup.Thesepolicemenare all piss andwindanyway.Whyaddtoit?“Youweregoingtosaysomething?”heasked.“Yes.HowdoIgetoutofthiscountry?”“TheDirectorhaspersuadedtheBritishConsul-GeneraltoissuetoyouatraveldocumentgoodforonejourneyfromheretoAthens.Imaysaythat itwas not easy. TheConsul agreed in the end only as a personalfavor to theDirector. Inaddition,anairpassagehasbeenreserved foryou on the five o’clock Olympic Airways flight to Athens. ArepresentativefromtheConsulate-Generalwillmeetyouwiththetraveldocument at theOlympicAirways office by theHiltonHotel at three-thirty. If youwill tellme inwhat currency youwould like the bonuspaid,arepresentativefromtheBureauwillalsobetheretogiveyouthemoney.”“I’lltakeitindollars.”“Verywell. That is all, I think. You do not seem as pleased as youshouldbe.”“Whatistheretobepleasedabout?”He shrugged. “Perhaps you think youwouldhavebeenbetter off inRome.Youwouldn’t,youknow.Ifthosejewelshadleftthecountry,wewouldhaveknownenoughtogetthemback,andyouwouldhavebeenthefirsttobearrested.Whynotconsideryourselflucky?”“Aren’tyouforgettingthatHarperstillhasacertainletterofmine?”“Whyshouldhesenditnow?”“Togethisownbackonme,ofcourse.”Heshookhishead.“Youareforgetting.Hecanneverbesurenowhowmuch you found out about them and how much you told us. Even Icannotbequitesureofthat.Asfarasheisconcerned,thelessyouseeofpolicemen the better.”He smiled slightly. “You see, you both have aninterestincommon.”“Verygratifying.”“Youmightevenconsiderbecominganhonestman.”Work,Simpson,forthenightcometh.Ioughttohaveblownthesmugbastardaraspberry;butIwasafraidhe might call off the bonus if I did. Even a crumb is better than nobread.SoIjustgavehimanimitationofHarper’smostunpleasantgrin,

andtriedtolethimseehowmuchIdespisedhim.Idon’treallythinkIsucceeded.Hehadahideasthickasanelephant’s.Therewasasergeantondutythistimetoescortmebacktotheguard-

roomgate.Hewatchedmeall the timeas ifhe thought Imight try tostealoneofthepictures.Then,whenIgotoutsidetherewerenotaxis.YounevercangetataxifromoutsidetheDolmabahçePalace.IhadtowalkamilebeforeIfoundone,andthatmademeangrierstill.The representative from the Bureau looked like a plain-clothes

policeman.HewatchedmecarefullyasIsignedforthemoneyandkepthis fingerson thepaperall the time in case I snatched it away.Therewerenofliesonhim.Heknewhowcarefulyouhadtobewhendealingwithcrooks.TherepresentativefromHerBritannicMajesty’sConsulate-General in

Istanbulwasasnotty-nosedclerkwhomademesignapapersayingthatIunderstoodthatthegrantingofthetraveldocumentdidnotconstituterecognitionofanyclaimIhadmadeormightmaketoUnitedKingdomcitizenship.WhenIhadsignedit,Itoldhimwhathecoulddowithit.ButonthewaybacktoAthensintheplane,itgavemeanidea.IhadbeenthinkingaboutNickiandwonderingwhetherIwouldstop

on my way to the flat and buy her a stone-marten stole. She’d beenhankering after one for a long while, and I thought that with theAmericannotesIhadImightgetagoodfurreallycheap—forthirtyorfortydollarsperhaps.Iwouldbe“papa”foratleastamonth.Thatis,ifshehadn’tmovedoutwhileIhadbeenaway.IwasdecidingthatIhadbettermakesureofthatfirstwhenthestewardessstoppedbymyseat.“Yournationality,sir?”“British,”Isaid.Shehandedmeapassportcontrolcardtofillinandmovedontothe

nextseat.Ihadsaid“British”withoutthinking.Why?BecauseIconsidermyself

British,becauseIamBritish.Itookoutthetraveldocumentandlookedatitcarefully.It,too,saidI

wasBritish.Andyettheyhadmademesignapaperwhichsaidineffectthat I wasn’t. Therefore, the travel document could be considered anadmissionofmyclaim.ThepaperwasunimportantbecauseIhadsignedthatunderduress.Youcannottakeawayaman’snationalitybyrefusingto recognizehis right to it.The1948Act is quite clear.Theonlyway

youcanloseBritishnationalityisbyrenouncingit.Ihaven’trenouncedmine at any time. Specifically, I did not renounce it by taking thatEgyptian passport. Since the Egyptians say that my EgyptiannaturalizationisnullandvoidbecauseImadefalsestatements,thenitisnullandvoid—allofit.TheBritishGovernmentcan’thaveitbothways.EitherIamEgyptianor I am British. The Egyptians say I am not Egyptian and never havebeen.IsaythatIamnotEgyptianandneverhavebeen.MyfatherwasaBritishofficer.IamBritish.ThatiswhyIhavebeensocompletelyfrankandopen.Iamnotaskingtobeloved.Iamnotaskingtobeliked.Idonotmindbeingloathed,ifthat will make some pettifogging government official happier. It is amatter of principle. If necessary, I shall take my case to the UnitedNations.TheycanedtheBritishafterSuez;theycancanethemagainforme. Sheep I may be; and perhaps certain persons find my breathdispleasing;butIamnolongermerelyindignant.Iamangrynow.IgivetheBritishGovernmentfairwarning.Irefusetogoonbeingananomaly.Isthatquiteclear?Irefuse!

ALSOBYERICAMBLER

BACKGROUNDTODANGER

Kenton’s career as a journalist depended on his exceptionalfacilitywith languages, his knowledge of European politics,and his quick judgment. Where his judgment sometimesfailedhimwasinhispersonallife.Whenhefindshimselfona train bound forAustria after a badnight of gambling, heeagerlytakesanopportunitytoearnmoneyhelpingarefugeesmugglesecuritiesacross theborder.Hesoondiscovers thatthedocumentsheholdshavemorethanmonetaryvalue,andthat European politics has more twists and turns than themostconvolutednewspaperaccount.

Fiction/Suspense

CAUSEFORALARM

NickyMarlowneedsa job.He’s engaged tobemarriedandtheemploymentmarket isprettysliminBritainin1937.Sowhen his fiancée points out the Italian Spartacus MachineTool notice, he jumps at the chance. After all, he speaksItalian and can endure Milan long enough to save somemoney. Soon after he arrives, though, he learns the sinistertruthofhispredecessor’sdeathandfindshimselfcourtedbytwo agents with dangerously different agendas. In theprocess,Marlowrealizesit’snotsosimplejusttodothejobhe’spaidtodoinfascistItalyonthebrinkofwar.

Fiction/Suspense

ACOFFINFORDIMITRIOS

A chance encounter with a Turkish colonel who has apenchant for British crime novels leads mystery writerCharles Latimer into a world of menacing political and

criminal maneuvers throughout the Balkans in the yearsbetween the world wars. Hoping that the career of thenotorious Dimitrios, whose body has been identified in anIstanbulmorgue,will inspire a story line for his next book,Latimer soon finds himself caught up in a shadowyweb ofmurder,espionage,drugs,andtreachery.

Fiction/Suspense

JOURNEYINTOFEAR

Returningtohishotelroomafteralate-nightflirtationwithacabaretdanceratanIstanbulnightspot,Grahamissurprisedby an intruderwith a gun.What follows is a nightmare ofintriguefortheEnglisharmamentsengineerashemakeshiswayhomeaboardanItalianfreighter.Amongthepassengersare a couple of Nazi assassins intent on preventing hisreturningtoEnglandwithplansforaTurkishdefensesystem,theseductivecabaretdancerandhermanagerhusband,andanumberofsurprisingallies.

Fiction/Suspense

JUDGMENTONDELTCHEV

Foster ishiredbyanAmericannewspaper tocover the trialofYordanDeltchev,whofaceschargesoftreason.Accusedofmasterminding a plot to assassinate his country’s leader,Deltchevmay in fact be a pawn and his trial all show. Butwhen Foster meets Deltchev’s powerful wife, he becomesenmeshed in a conspiracy that ismore life-threatening thanhecouldhaveimagined.

Fiction/Suspense

THELIGHTOFDAY

WhenArthurAbdelSimpsonfirstspotsHarperintheAthensairport, he recognizes him as a tourist unfamiliar with thecity and in need of a private driver. In other words, the

perfect mark for Simpson’s brand of entrepreneurship. ButHarper proves to bemore the spider than the fly when hecatches Simpson riffling through his wallet for traveler’schecks.SoonSimpsonfindshimselfblackmailedintodrivingasuspiciouscaracrosstheTurkishborder.Then,whenheiscaught again, this time by the police, he faces a choice:cooperatewiththeTurksandspyonhiserstwhilecolleaguesor end up in one of Turkey’s notorious prisons. Theauthorities suspect an attempted coup, but Harper hassomethingmuchbiggerplanned.

Fiction/Suspense

PASSAGEOFARMS

Greg and Dorothy Nilsen had wanted to go on anadventuroustrip,buttheircruiseisturningouttobeabore.SowhenthegraciousMr.TanasksGregtogotoSingaporetoresolve a bureaucratic detail involving a consignment ofsmallarms,Gregissurprisinglyreceptive.Allhehastodoissignsomepapers,he’stold,andhe’llbepaidahandsomefee.Andeverythingdoesgosmoothly,untilitcomestogettingacheckcosignedbytherebelleader.…

Fiction/Suspense

THESCHIRMERINHERITANCE

GeorgeCarey, formerWWIIbomberpilotandnewlymintedlawyer,wasgiventheignobletaskofgoingthroughthetonsof files on the Schneider Johnson case, just to make surenothing had been overlooked. But as luck would have it,Carey discovered something among the false claims anddead-end leads that made this into more than just anothermissing-heir-to-a-vast-fortunecase.Andwhathefoundwouldconnect a deserter from Napoleon’s defeated army to aguerrilla fighter in postwar Greece, and lead Carey into adangerous situationwhere his survival would dependmoreonwhathelearnedinthearmythananythinghelearnedin

lawschool.Fiction/Suspense

STATEOFSIEGE

Aftera three-yearstint in the formerDutchSoutheastAsiancolony of Sunda, Steve Fraser is looking forward to goinghome.ButSundaisnewlyindependent,andafundamentalistIslamic faction is set on overthrowing the provisionalgovernment. So instead of enjoying his lastweekend in thecapital, Fraser finds himself dodging bullets as well as theshiftingloyaltiesofthecoup’slieutenants.

Fiction/Suspense

FORTHCOMINGFROMVINTAGECRIME/BLACKLIZARD

TheAbilitytoKillTheCareofTimeTheDarkFrontierDoctorFrigo

HereLiesEricAmbler:AnAutobiographyTheIntercomConspiracyAKindofAngerTheLevanter

TheSiegeofVillaLippThisGunforHireWaitingforOrders

VINTAGECRIME/BLACKLIZARD

Availablewhereverbooksaresoldwww.vintagebooks.com