Parker, you might perhaps spend your time instead with that charming lady who was earlier here. Your associate could rapidly and succinctly tell you the highlights later."
Parker shook his head, got to his feet, and went over to lie down on the bed. The world was full of people who never did anything but talk. "Any time you feel like it," he said.
"You are most gracious." Menlo took a deep breath, thought for a second to organize his thoughts, and began talking. "Our mutual target, Lepas Kapor, has for the past eight years been one of our most important liaison agents with our espionage network in this country. As an aide at the embassy of such a small and insignificant nation as Klastrava, he was far less likely to come under the scrutiny and suspicion of American counter-intelligence. His duties have been twofold. First, he transmits information from the network to the Soviet Union. Second, he furnishes funds to pay for the network's continued existence, to cover the cost of bribes and payoffs and so on. Just recently, we discovered that Kapor has systematically been cheating us ever since getting this assignment. His method is simplicity itself. Say a particular document cost one thousand dollars to obtain. In his report he would state that it cost fifteen hundred dollars, and the overage he would merely transfer to his own pockets. How much he has accrued for himself in this way we can only guess, but the estimate is that he has stolen more than ten thousand dollars a year for eight years. Perhaps in all, one hundred thousand dollars."
Menlo looked smilingly at Handy, and then at Parker. "Interesting? Yes. Of course it is. And even more interesting is the question, what has he done with this money? Has he spent it? Hardly. An obscure aide in an obscure embassy? If he were to live beyond his means, it would be noticed at once. Shall he bank it? Considering the political orientation of Klastrava and the passion for voluminous records among bankers, this too seems hardly the answer. Nor can he invest it. He can, in fact, do nothing with it so long as he remains in his present post. He can only secrete it, somewhere in his own house, against the day when he will suddenly disappear. He intends to retire, of course, in some out-of-the-way place. South America perhaps, or Mexico. Or it is entirely possible that he will remain in the United States, in Vermont or Oregon or Nebraska. A man with a hundred thousand dollars can arrange to disappear almost anywhere."
Handy interrupted. "How do you know for sure it's in cash, and that it's in his house? Maybe he's got it buried out in the country some place."
"Ah, wait. I'm coming to that. Please be patient."
Parker sat up and lit a fresh cigarette. For half of a hundred thousand dollars, he could make himself be patient.
"Now comes my own entry into the story," Menlo continued. "I am, in a way, a policeman. Not precisely the sort you two have undoubtedly encountered at one time or another in your careers. My occupation has no true counterpart in your country, except unofficially, among the members of some stern-jawed American society or the more belligerent American Legion posts. My duties are, in a way, religious, with an analogy drawn from the Spanish Inquisition. I am an inquisitor, a seeker of heretics, of those whose heresies are against the state. It was felt that a man of my background and unquestioned loyalty would be best suited to the task of punishing Lepas Kapor and of regaining the embezzled funds. It was decided not to trust this delicate task to our espionage organization; news of his impending doom might perhaps somehow reach the ears of our suspect. And so, for the first time in my life, I left my native land armed with a valid passport and a map to a cache containing one hundred thousand American dollars!'
Menlo threw his head back and laughed, a full booming laugh of delight. "It was wonderful! The opportunity of a lifetime!" Then his laughter subsided and he
Parker shook his head, got to his feet, and went over to lie down on the bed. The world was full of people who never did anything but talk. "Any time you feel like it," he said.
"You are most gracious." Menlo took a deep breath, thought for a second to organize his thoughts, and began talking. "Our mutual target, Lepas Kapor, has for the past eight years been one of our most important liaison agents with our espionage network in this country. As an aide at the embassy of such a small and insignificant nation as Klastrava, he was far less likely to come under the scrutiny and suspicion of American counter-intelligence. His duties have been twofold. First, he transmits information from the network to the Soviet Union. Second, he furnishes funds to pay for the network's continued existence, to cover the cost of bribes and payoffs and so on. Just recently, we discovered that Kapor has systematically been cheating us ever since getting this assignment. His method is simplicity itself. Say a particular document cost one thousand dollars to obtain. In his report he would state that it cost fifteen hundred dollars, and the overage he would merely transfer to his own pockets. How much he has accrued for himself in this way we can only guess, but the estimate is that he has stolen more than ten thousand dollars a year for eight years. Perhaps in all, one hundred thousand dollars."
Menlo looked smilingly at Handy, and then at Parker. "Interesting? Yes. Of course it is. And even more interesting is the question, what has he done with this money? Has he spent it? Hardly. An obscure aide in an obscure embassy? If he were to live beyond his means, it would be noticed at once. Shall he bank it? Considering the political orientation of Klastrava and the passion for voluminous records among bankers, this too seems hardly the answer. Nor can he invest it. He can, in fact, do nothing with it so long as he remains in his present post. He can only secrete it, somewhere in his own house, against the day when he will suddenly disappear. He intends to retire, of course, in some out-of-the-way place. South America perhaps, or Mexico. Or it is entirely possible that he will remain in the United States, in Vermont or Oregon or Nebraska. A man with a hundred thousand dollars can arrange to disappear almost anywhere."
Handy interrupted. "How do you know for sure it's in cash, and that it's in his house? Maybe he's got it buried out in the country some place."
"Ah, wait. I'm coming to that. Please be patient."
Parker sat up and lit a fresh cigarette. For half of a hundred thousand dollars, he could make himself be patient.
"Now comes my own entry into the story," Menlo continued. "I am, in a way, a policeman. Not precisely the sort you two have undoubtedly encountered at one time or another in your careers. My occupation has no true counterpart in your country, except unofficially, among the members of some stern-jawed American society or the more belligerent American Legion posts. My duties are, in a way, religious, with an analogy drawn from the Spanish Inquisition. I am an inquisitor, a seeker of heretics, of those whose heresies are against the state. It was felt that a man of my background and unquestioned loyalty would be best suited to the task of punishing Lepas Kapor and of regaining the embezzled funds. It was decided not to trust this delicate task to our espionage organization; news of his impending doom might perhaps somehow reach the ears of our suspect. And so, for the first time in my life, I left my native land armed with a valid passport and a map to a cache containing one hundred thousand American dollars!'
Menlo threw his head back and laughed, a full booming laugh of delight. "It was wonderful! The opportunity of a lifetime!" Then his laughter subsided and he
Similar Books
