Assassin

57

'Very interesting,' said Tyzack. He was standing a couple of paces from Carver, looking down on him. He'd adopted the attitude of a QC cross-examining a witness. Carver wondered how long he'd been dreaming of this moment, working on his delivery, polishing up his questions.

'So you admit that Trench knew that I had superior military skill to you?' Tyzack went on.

'That was his opinion, yes. You were good under training conditions. I always felt combat would be a different matter.'

'And yet, when we landed on that boat, we advanced together and both of us took out our designated targets.'

'Yes.'

'And those were certainly combat conditions.'

Carver nodded. 'Yes, you were doing a good job at that point.'

'It was my first kill, you know. Do you remember your first kill?'

'Yes.'

'Did you enjoy it?'

'Not particularly.'

'Really?' said Tyzack. 'I thought it was an amazing moment. I'd heard all about that sort of thing, of course. Growing up in my family, I could hardly avoid it. But it's a bit like sex, isn't it? Until you've actually done it, you really have no idea…'

'If you say so.'

Tyzack ignored him. 'I can still see the way the rounds hit their target. There was much more blood than I expected. I'd allowed for the wounds going in, you see, but not for the mess coming out the far side. The poor chap I hit, his body sort of rippled with the impact; it was the most extraordinary sight, filled me with absolute, pure pleasure. But you say it wasn't the same for you?'

'No.' Carver leaned back a fraction and the open wounds on his back touched the frame of the chair. He gasped with pain.

'I'm so sorry,' said Tyzack with exaggerated concern. 'Painful, is it? Well, concentrate on what you're saying, why don't you? Take your mind off it. Tell you what, I'll give you a little drink just to wet your throat. I really can't say fairer than that.'

Tyzack walked across to the table and poured a dribble of water into the bottom of the paper cup. He gave it to Carver, who gulped it down in one swallow.

'There,' said Tyzack, 'we've got a little system going, water for talk. So let's talk some more. Answer me this: if you hate killing so much, why do you keep doing it?'

Carver smiled wearily. Tyzack was not best pleased.

'Did I say something funny? I wasn't aware that I'd been trying to amuse.'

'No,' said Carver, shaking his head. 'I've just heard that one before.'

He thought back to a clinic by the shore of Lake Geneva and the sessions he'd had there. Carver's mind had been torn apart by unendurable trauma. A psychiatrist called Karlheinze Geisel had helped to put it back together. He'd harped on about Carver's deadly profession, too. So Carver gave Tyzack the same answer he'd given the shrink.

'I do it because it's the thing I can do. I look on it as a curse, for what it's worth. I wish I had another saleable talent. And if you want to know how I justify it, I'll tell you. The people I take out have got it coming. The world is a better place for them not being there.'

'Not always, it isn't,' said Tyzack, a teasing smile playing around the corners of his mouth. 'Dear old Percy Wake told me how you once killed a certain well-known woman in Paris. That was hardly a service to mankind. And all those poor people at the hotel last night. Did they have it coming?'

'No, they didn't. But both those times, I was set up, and you know it.'

'Oh, I see. They were unintentional killings?'

'Yes.'

'What about all the people who've died just because they happened to get in the way? How do you justify it when you trot off to Canada and take out a plane with someone on it you think deserves to die and – oh dear! – the pilot dies too, and the chap next to him, and the poor little trolley-dolly, and a couple of passengers too? This is an actual case I'm quoting…'

'I know.'

'You were trying to get a man named Waylon McCabe.'

'That's right.'

'But he was the only person who walked away. Dearie me, that was a bit of a mistake.'

'Yes… yes, it was.'

Tyzack stepped forward till his mouth was just inches from Carver's right ear. 'So why, when I make a mistake, just one mistake… a mistake which harmed far fewer people… why did you have to ruin my entire… fucking… life?'