to build something?'
'Not one like ours, no. It's too spread out over too great an area. I'd say it's patently, obviously academic. Anything else would - ' Alison stopped as her eyes met McAuliffs. 'Good Lord! If it was anything else, it's unbelievable!'
'Perhaps there are those who do believe it. If they did, what do you think they'd do?' Alex signalled the waiter by holding up two fingers for refills. Alison Booth's lips were parted in astonishment.
'Millions and millions and millions,' said the girl quietly. 'My God, they'd buy up everything in sight!'
'Only if they were convinced they were right.'
Alison forced him to look at her. When, at first, he refused, and glanced over at the waiter, who was dawdling, she put her hand on top of his and made him pay attention. 'They are right, aren't they, Alex?'
'I wouldn't have any proof of it. My contract's with London University, with countersigned approvals from the Society and the Jamaican Ministry. What they do with the results is their business.' It was pointless to issue a flat denial. He was a professional surveyor, not a clairvoyant.
'I don't believe you. You've been primed.'
'Not primed. Told to be on guard, that's all.'
'Those... deadly little instruments aren't given to people who've only been told to be on guard.'
'That's what I thought. But you know something? You and I are wrong, Alison. Scanners are in... common use these days. Nothing out of the ordinary. Especially if you're working outside home territory. Not a very nice comment on the state of trust, is it?'
The waiter brought their drinks. He was humming and moving rhythmically to the beat of his own tune. Alison continued to stare at McAuliff. He wasn't sure, but he began to think she believed him. When the waiter left, she leaned forward, anxious to speak.
'And what are you supposed to do now? You found those awful... things. What are you going to do about them?'
'Nothing. Report them to the Ministry in the morning, that's all.'
'You mean you're not going to take them out and step on them or something? You're just going to leave them there?'
It was not a pleasant prospect, thought Alex, but Holcroft had been clear: If a bug was found, let it remain intact and use it. It could be invaluable. Before eliminating any such device, he was to report it and await instructions. A fish store named Tallon's, near Victoria Park.
'They're paying me... paying us. I suppose they'll want to quietly investigate. What difference does it make? I don't have any secrets.'
'And you won't have,' said the girl softly but pointedly, removing her hand from his.
McAuliff suddenly realized the preposterousness of his position. It was at once ridiculous and sublime, funny and not funny at all.
'May I change my mind and call someone now?' he asked.
Alison slowly - very slowly - began to smile her lovely smile. 'No. I was being unfair... And I do believe you. You're the most maddeningly unconcerned man I've ever known. You are either supremely innocent or superbly ulterior. I can't accept the latter; you were far too nervous upstairs.' She put her hand back on top of his free one. With his other, he finished the second drink.
'May I ask why you weren't? Nervous.'
'Yes. It's time I told you. I owe you that... I shan't be returning to England, Alex. Not for many years, if ever. I can't. I spent several months... cooperating with Interpol. I've had experience with those horrid little buggers. That's what we called them. Buggers.'
McAuliff felt the stinging pain in his stomach again. It was fear, and more than fear. Holcroft had said British Intelligence doubted she would return to England. Julian. Warfield suggested that she might be of value for abstract reasons having nothing to do with her contributions to the survey.
He was not sure how - or why - but Alison was being used.
Just as he was being used.
'How did that happen?' he asked with appropriate astonishment.
Alison touched on the highlights of her involvement. The marriage was sour before the first anniversary. Succinctly put, Alison Booth came to the conclusion very early that her husband had pursued and married her for reasons having more to do with her professional travels than for anything else.
'... it was as though he had been ordered to take me, use me, absorb me...'
The strain came soon after they were married: Booth was inordinately interested in her prospects. And, from seemingly nowhere, survey offers came out of the blue, from little-known but