The Betrayers

Chapter Twenty-seven

THE WOUND WASN'T too bad. Apparently the whole front end of the revolver-the barrel and part of the frame-had come flying at me, bruising and tearing things a bit but getting no substantial penetration. What really laid me out was a case of some kind of tropical dysentery I seemed to have picked up along the way.

It was a couple of weeks, therefore, before I could limp onto a plane and settle myself for the flight back to the Mainland. As we took off, I looked down at the Honolulu waterfront and the ocean, although what I expected to see down there, after two weeks, I don't know. Of course, the Monk was down there somewhere, but an anchor and twenty feet of chain were taking care of him. It's easier to explain an agent's disappearance than his dead body, particularly when you don't want to answer too many questions about his penultimate activities.

By evening I was in Washington, pretty well exhausted, sitting in a room on the second floor of a familiar building, telling the gray-haired man behind the desk the stuff I hadn't put in my official report.

"So you let the Chinese gentleman go," Mac said.

"Yes, sir," I said. "I didn't figure his detonating device was anything our boys couldn't figure out by themselves, and I owed him a little something for his cooperation."

"Your personal debts are beside the point, Eric. The man might have been able to tell us something."

"Not us," I said. "But he could certainly have told a lot of other people about Monk. I thought you wanted that hushed up, sir. It was either kill him or let him go, so I put him ashore." I shrugged. "As Monk said, there are four hundred million of them. I didn't figure one more was going to outnumber us."

"Um," Mac said. "And the girl? She was never found?"

"No, sir." I was silent for a moment, seeing again two skis floating on an empty ocean. "She was too good a swimmer to drown, and she couldn't have swum out of sight in the time she had. I did see a fin, sir, but I'm not an expert on fins. Even if it was a shark, it could have been a perfectly harmless and friendly one. On the other hand, Irina wasn't there. Just the skis."

Mac said, "You'll be interested to know that when I asked just what it was Monk had put aboard the ship, I was told that it was a security matter."

I grinned. "That's nice. We save their damn transport, and they won't tell us what we saved it from. Well, if you don't mind, sir, I think I'll go to a hotel and sleep for a week."

"Yes, of course." He waited until I'd limped to the door, and said, "Eric. In regard to this business in Asia, just what are your feelings on the subject?"

I laughed. "Sir, the political opinions of an agent are those required by the job at hand."

He gave me his thin smile. "Precisely. I was just making sure you hadn't forgotten. Well, don't forget to stop by the recognition room on your way out."

I was careful not to stare at him reproachfully. I mean, an order is an order and to hell with it-even if I had just crawled out of a hospital bed and flown halfway around the world.

"Yes, sir," I said, and went down to let Smitty run off his films for me.

I won't say I learned a great deal. My powers of concentration weren't at their highest peak. Having done my duty, I limped out of the projection room and started down the hail, but stopped abruptly, hearing a voice I remembered.

"I think that shiny one looks very pretty," Isobel was saying to the supply man when I came in. "I'll take that one."

She turned, hearing me, and we stood for a moment looking at each other. She was a stranger again, nicely dressed in a light summer suit, with her hair done in the smooth way I remembered. She looked polished and expensive, and it was hard to remember the exact details of what had happened on a tropical beach and by a pool in the jungle.

"Hello, Mart," she said. "You look terrible."

"I'm glad I can't say the same for you." I looked at the attractive woman in front of me, remembering how I'd seen her last. "So you made Kalaupapa in spite of the calm," I said.

"Kalaupapa?" she said. "Why should I sail fifteen miles to Kalaupapa when there was a road and a car only a couple of miles back along the shore? I was there before the wind dropped. The only trouble was, all the nice people kept telling me to rest instead of listening to me; it was almost dawn before I could get somebody to pick up a telephone." She smiled. "You're a nice person even if you are a terrible sailor, darling. I want to thank you for putting all that money in trust for Kenneth. But you shouldn't have given it all away."

"It wasn't really my money," I said. "Claire-Winnie – would have wanted her brother to have it."

"I think so. She was just prejudiced against me," Isobel said. "But she doesn't have to worry. I'm divorcing Kenneth as soon as I can. Don't look so surprised, darling. What do you think I wanted the money for? I couldn't divorce him when he was broke, could I? But now that he's all set, to hell with him." She glanced at the man behind the desk. "Well, I'd better finish my business and get out of here. I have the feeling I'm intruding on realms of desperate security.

Oh, you'd better wrap it. I can't very well go through the streets carrying it in my hand."

"Yes, ma'am," the man said.

I looked at the stainless steel revolver, and at the handsome woman in front of me. "What's that for?" I asked.

"Why, you know I've always wanted one," she said. "When the man upstairs asked me how he could repay me for everything, I just asked him to give me a gun with all the proper documents to make it legal." She hesitated, and gave me a questioning, smiling glance. "Oh, and he did say something about finding a man who'd teach me how to shoot it. Are you… are you the man?"

"I guess I could be," I said.

I was.