Bamboo and blood

5

"You spend a lot of time looking at the lake." The next morning, the tall man sat down beside me. It was the same bench, but this time he wore a dark blue beret. He seemed more comfortable in that than in the green felt hat. "It seems it might snow. Nothing to write home about," he said, looking straight ahead, almost as if he didn't know I was there. "But then, you don't write home, do you? You don't write, you don't phone. You're almost always out by yourself. Why is that, I wonder? It's very odd. You're not thinking about defecting, I hope."

"Only if it gives you sleepless nights."

"Why did they introduce you at the talks yesterday as a ministry researcher?"

"It's an honorary title." I smiled. "I'm flattered that you were listening."

"It's not what appears on your visa application. I could have you thrown out for lying to immigration authorities."

"Why, what did it say on the application?"

"You didn't fill it out?"

"Of course not. Do I look like I fill out my own visa applications?"

"It says you are a third secretary."

I turned to him. "Third secretary? They could have done better than that."

"You are more interesting than I was led to believe. How about a cup of coffee? Let's get in out of this cold wind."

"No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, though." I thought that sounded diplomatic. A little oily, perhaps.

"Don't worry, you can spend some time with me. None of your people are watching."

"Someone is covering my back."

"No. They were, but their car was in a minor accident and they've been detained."

"I see."

"These things happen in Geneva. On the weekends, with all the traffic, the roads can be difficult to negotiate."

"Just the same, I think maybe I'll just walk back to my mission. I saw some chestnut trees along the street I want to look at."

"Your mission is on the other side of the lake, a long walk, especially in this weather. Perhaps you'd allow me to drive you? I could let you off a few blocks away, near the statue, the one of the woman whose lovely backside faces the road. No one would know."

"Why this change of heart? Last time we met, you wanted me out of the country."

"I did. For one thing, you people attract others. It's as if you are flowers, and the bees of services from other countries cannot resist. They swarm in here and do silly things. That complicates my life, and I prefer life to be uncomplicated, or as uncomplicated as I can make it."

"Let me know how it turns out."

"To tell you the truth, I thought you were here to deal in missile parts. I've had enough of that for a while. In the last few weeks, I've gone through stacks of blurry copies of bills of sale and shipping manifests until I nearly went blind. If you were dealing in missile parts, I'd have booted you out without a second thought."

"Why would I be dealing in missiles?"

He shrugged. "Why not? There's money in it. Arms go through airports all the time. We usually don't stop shipments unless they are labeled "Weapons;" it's bad for commerce. In fact, yours is the only one we've stopped in a long time. We were asked to intercept it, so that's what we did. The shipping form was unimaginatively filled out. 'Bulldozer replacement parts,' it said. I haven't seen too many bulldozers with stabilizer fins, have you?"

"I don't know anything about missiles. Or bulldozers, for that matter."

"That was my conclusion, but it leaves a question. Why are you here?"

"Ah, finally. Why didn't you ask before? It's not a secret. I'm here because my mother likes chocolate, and the store near our villa in Pyongyang ran out."

"Very good." He laughed and looked around. "That will be a great shot, the chief of the Bundesamt fur Polizei, sitting on a bench and laughing with a North Korean agent. Would you like a print? Or would you rather have a video of you with one of the Portuguese girls that hang out in our bars?"

"I don't know any Portuguese girls. The other day you were pushing Indonesians." The chief of Swiss counterintelligence was following me around? You'd think the man would have more important things to do.

He stood up. "My name, in case you are interested, is Beret. Please call me Monsieur Beret. I will call you Monsieur O. Or perhaps you'd rather I call you Inspector." He watched for my reaction. I looked out at the lake and wondered briefly how much more he knew about me. And how he knew it.

"It will start to snow within the hour. Stay warm, Inspector, however you can."