Circus by Alistair MacLean Page B

risks. So does Harper. Anyway, no suspicion attaches to him. There’s no connection between him and the circus.’
    â€˜Has it occurred to you that “they” may check on his background?’
    â€˜Has it occurred to you that I might make a better owner and managing director of a circus than you are?’
    â€˜Touché. I asked for that.’
    â€˜Yes, you did. Two things. There’s no more reason why they should check on him than any of your hundreds of employees. His background is impeccable: he’s a consultant at the Belvedere and this is his way of spending part of his sabbatical at someone else’s expense. Much higher qualifications and much more experienced than any of the other applicants you’ll have. A natural choice. You’re lucky to have him.’
    â€˜But he hasn’t practised – ’
    â€˜He has consulting rooms in the hospital. One of our branch offices.’
    â€˜Is nothing sacred to you people?’
    â€˜Not much. How soon are you prepared to leave?’
    â€˜Leave?’
    â€˜For Europe.’
    â€˜I have a number of alternative dates and places pencilled in for there. That’s not the problem. Three more days here then we have three more engagements on the east coast.’
    â€˜Cancel them.’
    â€˜Cancel them? We never cancel – I mean, we have all arrangements made, theatres booked, saturation advertising, thousands of tickets sold in advance – ’
    â€˜Compensation, Mr Wrinfield, will be on a princely scale. Think of a suitable figure and it will be lodged in your bank tomorrow.’
    Wrinfield was not much given to wringing his hands but he looked as if he would have liked to indulge in just a little right then. ‘We are an annual institution in those places. We have a tremendous amount of goodwill – ’
    â€˜Double the figure you first thought of. Cancel. Your sea transport will be ready in New York in one week. When you sign up Dr Harper, he’ll organize vaccinations and inoculations. If you have any visa problems, we’ll do a little leaning. Not that I expect any trouble from the east European embassies or consulates – their countries are just dying to have you. I will be around tonight for the evening performance. So will the ravishing Miss Hopkins – but not with me. Have someone show her around, but not you.’
    â€˜I have a very bright nephew – ’
    â€˜Fine. Tell him nothing. Have him give her a thorough guided tour, the new secretary getting acquainted with the physical background of her new job. Have her introduced to some of your top performers. Especially, of course, to Bruno. Let Bruno know the score in advance.’
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    Henry Wrinfield looked a great deal more like Tesco Wrinfield’s son than a nephew had any right to look, although he undoubtedly was hisnephew. He had the same dark eyes, the same lean studious face, the same quick intelligence; and if he wasn’t quite in the same cerebral league as his uncle, he was, as his uncle had said, a very bright young fellow indeed, or at least bright enough to find no hardship in the chore of escorting Maria Hopkins round the back-stage of the circus. For an hour or so he completely forgot the blue-stockinged Ivy Leaguer to whom he was engaged and was slightly surprised that, when he remembered her about an hour later – he rarely spent ten minutes without thinking about her – he experienced no twinges of conscience.
    Few men would have found cause for complaint in the performance of such a task as had been entrusted to Henry, and those only misogynists in an irretrievably advanced state. She was a petite figure, although clearly not suffering from malnutrition, with long dark hair, rather splendid liquid dark eyes and an extraordinarily infectious smile and laugh. Her resemblance to the popular concept of an intelligence agent was non-existent, which may have been one of the