the op but Stratton couldn’t begin to imagine what.
‘I wouldn’t say it was rubbish, but I wouldn’t argue in its favour,’ Stratton said.
‘What about clairvoyants? Do you believe they can get in touch with the afterlife and learn about things that have happened or are about to happen?’
‘I’ve never met one. I’ve heard stories from police officers who’ve used them on occasion.’
‘Oh? What sort of stories?’
‘I was told how a clairvoyant helped find the body of a little girl who had been murdered and then she, the clairvoyant, directed the police to clues that led them to who did it.’
‘And do you believe that was what happened?’
‘I believe the officer who told me the story believed it.’
‘You mean you would have to see it for yourself to believe it?’
‘I think if I bet money against it being true I would lose, but that doesn’t mean I’m a believer . . . Can I ask what this is all about?’
The man smiled slightly then checked his watch, leaned forward, picked up his drink and took another sip. He put the glass down and stood up to pull on a heavy, dark-blue wool coat.
‘You can go ahead, Sumners,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Right, sir,’ Sumners said without getting up.
The man smiled thinly at Stratton again. ‘Good luck,’ he said, and walked out of the pub.
Stratton watched him go then looked at Sumners for an explanation. ‘What was that all about?’
‘After I tabled your name for the job, he asked me how broad-minded you were in the area of the supernatural and I couldn’t give him a satisfactory answer, not knowing you that well. So before we went ahead with the brief he wanted to ask you himself.’
‘Well that’s made it all perfectly clear,’ Stratton said.
Sumners finished his drink and stood.
‘You’re saying that was a test,’ Stratton said, his expression conveying that if so it was a strange one.
‘If you like . . . Let’s go for a walk,’ Sumners said as he stood and headed for the door.
Stratton sighed, got up and followed.
They stepped outside and Sumners put his hands in his coat pockets and at a slow pace walked towards the river where a cold mist was starting to form.
‘He simply wanted to know how open-minded you are.’
‘I’d have thought assassinating people required an open mind.’
‘Not as much as this job I fear,’ Sumners said tiredly, as if he wasn’t quite as open-minded as the task required. ‘If you thought this was going to be on the front line I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.’
‘You said it was to do with the supertanker.’
‘In this world of global terrorism no source of intelligence can be ignored, no matter how far it stretches the boundaries of reality, or our concept of it. As you know, no form of intelligence gathering is one hundred per cent reliable. That’s why we employ a great variety of methods to acquire it. To corroborate and substantiate, analyse and cross check.’
Sumners walked a little further in silence, gathering his thoughts. ‘You’re going to meet someone,’ he said. ‘A man. He works for the CIA.’
‘A field operative?’
‘No. Not your idea of one anyway.’
Stratton pondered why a member of the American Central Intelligence Agency would need a Brit MI6 operative assigned to him. ‘Is this some kind of local bodyguard task?’ he asked, praying it was not.
‘Not exactly . . . You’re going to be doing some decoding.’
‘Decoding?’
‘He will provide information and you will decode it.’
‘Have you forgotten who and what I am? This is Stratton. I’m a thug, which is what you turned me into by the way. I used to see myself as an intelligence gatherer and a sophisticated direct-action operative, until you made me into a murderer.’
‘That’s a bit over the top, Stratton. Unlike you.’
Stratton realised he was much more flippant with Sumners than he used to be. That was not so much to do with familiarity as with experience. Even though it had been a year since they last talked, Stratton felt he knew the man better.
‘Decoders have large brains and sit in comfortable offices,’ Stratton said.
‘It’s not quite that kind of decoding.You’ll understand better when you meet him.’
‘So who exactly is this person?’
‘You’ve heard of psychic spies?’
Stratton’s brow furrowed.‘Is that what all the supernatural questions were about?’
‘I empathised with your analogy about not betting against its existence but then not quite being a believer. I would have described this man to you as a kind of clairvoyant but when I suggested as much