begin."
Immediately, Eldon said: "Sir Kenneth, did you know that at your
last Helsinki meeting your controller was wired for sound, even though
you were not… by his request, if I remember your report correctly."
Aubrey was silent for some moments. The information had winded him.
Suspicions crowded in his mind, just out of the light. "Wired for
sound?
Controller
!" He squeezed contempt into his voice.
"Your KGB contact, if you prefer," Eldon corrected himself. "Yes,
wired for sound. We have the tape."
"Then —"
"It seems very conclusive."
"Where is it?"
"We'll let you hear it, Kenneth," Babbington soothed, savouring
Aubrey's failure of nerve.
"Conclusive, you say - then why the need for… ?"
"Conclusive of treason, perhaps I should have said, Sir Kenneth."
"Then it's faked! Where did you get it?"
"The Finns. They have people in the Soviet
apparat
in
Helsinki. One of them got it out, the Finns handed it straight on to us
- to Sir William and the Cabinet Office…"
"You bloody fools - you
dangerous
fools!" Aubrey snapped.
"We're in the process of submitting it to the most stringent
technological tests, Sir Kenneth," Eldon continued, unperturbed. "I may
say that, thus far, it holds up. It would appear to be genuine. The
meeting took place at the zoo. Near the monkey house, from the
background noises."
"Kenneth," Babbington interrupted with what might have been genuine
concern, "it's not good. This tape holds up just like the file that
fell into the hands of the CIA. They're convinced that file is genuine
- and so are we." His voice hardened on the last words, as if he were
pressing them in a vice.
"My God…" Aubrey whispered. He saw the way ahead very clearly; a
dark path between close, high trees in failing light. It was the only
path, and his feet were already upon it.
"The file indicates quite clearly that you were the instrument of
Robert Castleford's betrayal," Babbington insinuated. The use of his
name brought the man himself back vividly to Aubrey; not the photograph
in the newspapers nor on the television, but a haggard, defeated,
cunning face - the last occasion they had met. The last time he had
seen Castleford alive. An older, surprised, appalled, finally dangerous
Castleford. Careful of your face, your eyes, Aubrey reminded himself,
as if afraid that the memories would become visible like stigmata.
"I'm afraid that is precisely what the
Teardrop
file
indicates, Sir Kenneth," Eldon agreed.
"What did you call it?" Aubrey demanded, stunned.
"
Teardrop
." Eldon appeared to permit himself a smile, and a
catlike smoothing of his moustache. His eyes glinted with
concentration. "Your codename, apparently."
"
My
codename? My
God
—!" Aubrey half raised
himself from his chair. "You know it was
his
codename,
dammit!"
"Do we? The file now in Washington has
Teardrop
upon its
cover. It was opened in 1946, Sir Kenneth."
"But you've checked the records - dammit, you know that Kapustin was
Teardrop
…" His jaw dropped. "The records are ambiguous," he
admitted in a hoarse whisper. "I could just as easily have been meeting
- my controller from Moscow…"
"Precisely, Sir Kenneth."
"And you - have drawn that conclusion."
"Let's say we're proceeding on that assumption, Kenneth," Babbington
supplied. "It will be up to you to disprove it, if you can."
"I might add, Sir Kenneth, that we have some film with the Helsinki
tape. We're examining that, too, for signs that it might be a forgery.
We don't think it is."
Aubrey shook his head weakly, and then looked at them, his eyes
moving from face to face. He felt as close to pleading with them to be
believed as he felt distant from their sympathy and understanding.
"Where's Hyde?" he asked unexpectedly. "Why did he flee the scene?"
Babbington appeared taken aback.
"We - we're looking for him now."
"He hasn't called in?"
"No."
"Why not? What smell's in his nose, Babbington?"
"Hyde could be on a binge for all we know, Sir Kenneth," Eldon
Immediately, Eldon said: "Sir Kenneth, did you know that at your
last Helsinki meeting your controller was wired for sound, even though
you were not… by his request, if I remember your report correctly."
Aubrey was silent for some moments. The information had winded him.
Suspicions crowded in his mind, just out of the light. "Wired for
sound?
Controller
!" He squeezed contempt into his voice.
"Your KGB contact, if you prefer," Eldon corrected himself. "Yes,
wired for sound. We have the tape."
"Then —"
"It seems very conclusive."
"Where is it?"
"We'll let you hear it, Kenneth," Babbington soothed, savouring
Aubrey's failure of nerve.
"Conclusive, you say - then why the need for… ?"
"Conclusive of treason, perhaps I should have said, Sir Kenneth."
"Then it's faked! Where did you get it?"
"The Finns. They have people in the Soviet
apparat
in
Helsinki. One of them got it out, the Finns handed it straight on to us
- to Sir William and the Cabinet Office…"
"You bloody fools - you
dangerous
fools!" Aubrey snapped.
"We're in the process of submitting it to the most stringent
technological tests, Sir Kenneth," Eldon continued, unperturbed. "I may
say that, thus far, it holds up. It would appear to be genuine. The
meeting took place at the zoo. Near the monkey house, from the
background noises."
"Kenneth," Babbington interrupted with what might have been genuine
concern, "it's not good. This tape holds up just like the file that
fell into the hands of the CIA. They're convinced that file is genuine
- and so are we." His voice hardened on the last words, as if he were
pressing them in a vice.
"My God…" Aubrey whispered. He saw the way ahead very clearly; a
dark path between close, high trees in failing light. It was the only
path, and his feet were already upon it.
"The file indicates quite clearly that you were the instrument of
Robert Castleford's betrayal," Babbington insinuated. The use of his
name brought the man himself back vividly to Aubrey; not the photograph
in the newspapers nor on the television, but a haggard, defeated,
cunning face - the last occasion they had met. The last time he had
seen Castleford alive. An older, surprised, appalled, finally dangerous
Castleford. Careful of your face, your eyes, Aubrey reminded himself,
as if afraid that the memories would become visible like stigmata.
"I'm afraid that is precisely what the
Teardrop
file
indicates, Sir Kenneth," Eldon agreed.
"What did you call it?" Aubrey demanded, stunned.
"
Teardrop
." Eldon appeared to permit himself a smile, and a
catlike smoothing of his moustache. His eyes glinted with
concentration. "Your codename, apparently."
"
My
codename? My
God
—!" Aubrey half raised
himself from his chair. "You know it was
his
codename,
dammit!"
"Do we? The file now in Washington has
Teardrop
upon its
cover. It was opened in 1946, Sir Kenneth."
"But you've checked the records - dammit, you know that Kapustin was
Teardrop
…" His jaw dropped. "The records are ambiguous," he
admitted in a hoarse whisper. "I could just as easily have been meeting
- my controller from Moscow…"
"Precisely, Sir Kenneth."
"And you - have drawn that conclusion."
"Let's say we're proceeding on that assumption, Kenneth," Babbington
supplied. "It will be up to you to disprove it, if you can."
"I might add, Sir Kenneth, that we have some film with the Helsinki
tape. We're examining that, too, for signs that it might be a forgery.
We don't think it is."
Aubrey shook his head weakly, and then looked at them, his eyes
moving from face to face. He felt as close to pleading with them to be
believed as he felt distant from their sympathy and understanding.
"Where's Hyde?" he asked unexpectedly. "Why did he flee the scene?"
Babbington appeared taken aback.
"We - we're looking for him now."
"He hasn't called in?"
"No."
"Why not? What smell's in his nose, Babbington?"
"Hyde could be on a binge for all we know, Sir Kenneth," Eldon
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