A Spy by Nature - Charles Cumming [111]
In the inside pocket of my long overcoat, zipped up against thieves and spooks, there is a single high density IBM 1.44 MB floppy disk inside a small manila envelope containing crude oil assay data from a well-head sample in Tengiz. My adrenalin, as always, is up, my heart beating rapidly with a rush like caffeine pushing me quickly down the street. I tilt my head downward for warmth and watch my breath as it disappears into the folds of the coat.
For perhaps the tenth time today, my mind casts back to a confrontation I had with Cohen last week. I cannot ignore what happened, because it convinced me that he is assured of my guilt. This, at least for once, is not paranoia, not just some by-product of my persistent agitation. There are hard facts to consider.
We were standing beside the printer, the same one where three months before he had discovered me spooling out the commercial price sets on a quiet Saturday afternoon.
‘Those Americans you’ve been spending so much time with,’ he said, adjusting his tie.
‘What about them?’ I replied, a void immediately opening up inside me.
‘Alan has found out about it.’
‘What do you mean he’s found out about it? You two been keeping tabs on me?’
This was my first mistake. I was too aggressive too early. There had been nothing in what Cohen had said to cause me any alarm: simply a sly tone of voice, an implied rebuke in his manner.
‘We like to keep an eye on new people.’
‘What do you mean, “new people”? I’ve been with the company over a year.’
‘Did you know they work for Andromeda?’
‘No kidding, Harry. I thought they were guides at the British Museum. Of course I know they work at Andromeda.’
‘And do you think it’s wise to be spending so much of your time with a competitor?’
‘Implying what?’
‘Implying nothing.’
‘Why ask the question, then?’
‘You’re getting very ruffled, Alec.’
‘Listen, Detective Inspector. If I’m ruffled it’s because I don’t like the undercurrent of what you’re saying.’
‘There’s no undercurrent,’ he said, calm as quicksand. ‘I merely asked if it was a good idea.’
‘I know what you asked. And the answer is that it’s my private affair. I don’t keep tabs on what you do behind closed doors.’
‘So you do things behind closed doors?’
‘Fuck off, Harry. OK? Just fuck off.’
At this both Piers and Ben looked up from their desks and stared at us. Cohen knew he had me cornered so he kept on probing. Typically, he phrased his next remark as a statement, not a question.
‘I was simply going to say that they don’t ring as often as they used to.’
I responded to this without thinking through my reply.
‘No, they don’t,’ I told him. ‘I wonder why that is.’
That was my second mistake. I should have reacted to the strangeness of Cohen’s observation.
‘Look,’ he said, sympathy suddenly in his voice. ‘I’m just telling you this because you might need to be prepared for some questions.’
‘Questions? What about?’
‘Anybody who spends an unusual amount of time socializing with employees of a rival firm is bound to come under suspicion. At some point.’
I had to presume that this was a lie designed to flush me out. He paused, leaving a silence that I was supposed to fill. My body was wretched with heat, exacerbated by the warmth of the office. I managed to say:
‘Suspicion of what?’
‘We both know what I’m talking about, Alec.’
‘This conversation is finished.’
‘That’s something of an over-reaction, don’t you think?’
‘Fortner and Katharine are my friends. They are not work associates. Try to make that distinction. Your life may begin and end with Abnex, and that’s admirable, Harry, it really is. We all admire you for your dedication. But the rest of us try to have a life away