point – call it frustration or bewilderment or the involuntary awakening of a protective instinct – that I felt compelled to make an appeal on Ed’s behalf which, had my head been that much cooler, I might have thought twice about.
I select Marion.
‘I was just wondering, Marion,’ I say, adopting the speculative tone of one of Prue’s more academic fellow lawyers, ‘whether Shannon in any legal sense has committed a crime. All this talk about top-secret codeword material that he claims to have glimpsed. Is that reality speaking out of him, or is it his own fantasy? The other stuff he’s offering seems to be all about establishing his credentials. It may not even be classified, or not in any sense that matters. So I mean, might it not be better for you people to pull him in, read him the riot act, turn him over to the psychiatrists and save yourselves a lot of bother?’
Marion turns to the spear-carrier who had shaken my hand and nearly broken it. He peers at me in a kind of marvel.
‘Are you being serious at all?’ he enquires.
I reply stoutly that I have never been more serious in my life.
‘Then allow me to quote to you, if I may, Section 3 of the Official Secrets Act of 1989, which provides as follows: A person who is or has been a Crown servant or government contractor is guilty of an offence if without lawful authority he makes a damaging disclosure of any information, document or other article relating to international relations. We also have Shannon’s solemn oath in writing that he will not divulge state secrets, plus his awareness of what will happen to him if he does. Put together, I’d say we’re looking at a very short trial in a secret court, terminating in a prison sentence of ten to twelve years, six with remission if he owns up, plus free psychiatric attention if he requires it, which frankly I’d have thought was a no-brainer.’
*
I had vowed to myself sitting alone in the empty waiting room for an hour and more that I would remain composed and above the fray. Accept the premise, I kept telling myself. Live with it. It’s not going to go away when you wake up. Ed Shannon, the blushing new member of the Athleticus who’s so shy he needs Alice to introduce him, is an established member of our sister Service and a walk-in Russian spy. Along the road, for reasons yet to be explained, he picked you up. Fine. Classic. All honour. A really neat job. He cultivated you, schmoozed you, led you by the nose. And obviously he knew. Knew that I was a veteran officer with a potential chip on my shoulder, and therefore ripe for cultivation.
Then blandish me, for God’s sake! Cultivate me as a future source! And when you’ve cultivated me, either take the plunge and make a pass at me, or hand me over to your Russian controllers for development! So why didn’t you? What about the basic mating signals of agent acquisition? Where were they ever? How is your rocky marriage getting along, Nat? You never asked me. Are you in debt, Nat? Do you feel under-appreciated, Nat? Passed over for promotion? Have they chiselled you out of your gratuity, your pension, at all? You know what the trainers preach. Everyone has something. The job of the recruiter is to find it! But you didn’t even bloody look for it! Never probed, never went anywhere near the brink. Never chanced your arm.
And how could you chance your arm when all you did from the moment we sat down together was pontificate about your political beefs, and I barely got a word in even if I’d wanted to?
*
My plea of mitigation for Ed has not gone down well with my chers collègues. Never mind. I’ve recovered. I am composed. Guy Brammel gives a perfunctory nod to Marion who has signified that she has questions for the accused.
‘Nat.’
‘Marion.’
‘You implied earlier that neither you nor Shannon had the smallest idea how the other was employed. Am I correct?’
‘Not correct at all, Marion, I’m afraid,’ I reply jauntily. ‘We had very clear ideas. Ed was working for some media empire that he loathed, and I was scouting for business opportunities while I helped out an old business friend.’
‘Did Shannon specifically tell you it was a media empire he was working for?’
‘In as many words, no. He implied to me that he was filtering news stories