and said, ‘No, I couldn’t do it. What would Sally say?’
‘I know it’s a dangerous job, Dan.’
‘I’m not worried about that—not for meself. I could have got killed in Korea. It’s just that…well, I’ve not much insurance, an’ what would she do with three kids if anythin’ happened to me?’
Warren said, ‘I’ll tell you this much, Dan. I don’t think the worst will happen, but if it does I’ll see that Sally gets a life pension equal to what you’re getting now. No strings attached—and you can have it in writing.’
‘You’re pretty free wi’ your money—or is it your money?’ asked Parker shrewdly.
‘It doesn’t matter where it comes from. It’s in a good cause.’
Parker sighed. ‘I’d trust you that far. I know you’d never be on the wrong side. When is this lark startin’?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Warren. ‘It might not even start at all. I haven’t made up my mind yet. But if we do get going it will be next month.’
Parker chewed the stem of his pipe, apparently unaware it had gone out. At last he looked up, bright-eyed. ‘All right, I’ll do it. Sally’ll give me hell, I expect.’ He grinned. ‘Best not to tell her, Doctor. I’ll cook up a yarn for her.’ He scratched his head. ‘I must see me old Navy mates an’ see if I can get hold of a service manual for the Mark XI—there ought tobe some still knockin’ around. I’ll need that if I’m goin’ to redesign the circuits.’
‘Do that,’ said Warren. ‘I’d better tell you what it’s all about.’
‘No!’ said Parker. ‘I’ve got the general drift. If this is goin’ to be dangerous then the less I know the better for you.
When the time comes you tell me what to do an’ I’ll do it—if I can.’
Warren asked sharply, ‘Any chance of failure?’
‘Could be—but if I get all I ask for then I think it can be done. The Mark XI’s a nice bit o’ machinery—it shouldn’t be too hard to make it do the impossible.’ He grinned. ‘What made you think o’ goin’ about it this way? Tired of treatin’ new addicts?’
‘Something like that,’ said Warren.
He left Parker buzzing happily to himself about batteries and circuits and with a caution that this was not a firm commitment. But he knew that in spite of his insistence that the arrangements were purely tentative the commitment was hardening.
IV
He telephoned Andrew Tozier. ‘Can I call on you for some support tonight, Andy?’
‘Sure. Doc; moral or muscular?’
‘Maybe a bit of both. I’ll see you at the Howard Club—know where that is?’
‘I know,’ said Tozier. ‘You could choose a better place to lose your money, Doc; it’s as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.’
‘I’m gambling, Andy,’ said Warren. ‘But not with money. Stick in the background, will you? I’ll call on you if I need you. I’ll be there at ten o’clock.’
‘I get the picture; you just want some insurance.’
‘That’s it,’ said Warren, and rang off.
The Howard Club was in Kensington, discreetly camou—flaged in one of the old Victorian terraced houses. Unlike the Soho clubs, there were no flashing neon signs proclaiming blackjack and roulette because this was no cheap operation. There were no half-crown chips to be bought in the Howard Club.
Just after ten o’clock Warren strolled through the gambling rooms towards the bar. He was coolly aware of the professional interest aroused by his visit; the doorkeeper had picked up an internal telephone as he walked in and the news would be quick in reaching the higher echelons. He watched the roulette for a moment, and thought sardonically, If I were James Bond I’d be in there making a killing.
At the bar he ordered a Scotch and when the barman placed it before him a flat American voice said, ‘That will be on the house, Dr Warren.’
Warren turned to find John Follet, the manager of the club, standing behind him. ‘What are you doing so far west?’ asked Follet, ‘If you’re
‘I know it’s a dangerous job, Dan.’
‘I’m not worried about that—not for meself. I could have got killed in Korea. It’s just that…well, I’ve not much insurance, an’ what would she do with three kids if anythin’ happened to me?’
Warren said, ‘I’ll tell you this much, Dan. I don’t think the worst will happen, but if it does I’ll see that Sally gets a life pension equal to what you’re getting now. No strings attached—and you can have it in writing.’
‘You’re pretty free wi’ your money—or is it your money?’ asked Parker shrewdly.
‘It doesn’t matter where it comes from. It’s in a good cause.’
Parker sighed. ‘I’d trust you that far. I know you’d never be on the wrong side. When is this lark startin’?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Warren. ‘It might not even start at all. I haven’t made up my mind yet. But if we do get going it will be next month.’
Parker chewed the stem of his pipe, apparently unaware it had gone out. At last he looked up, bright-eyed. ‘All right, I’ll do it. Sally’ll give me hell, I expect.’ He grinned. ‘Best not to tell her, Doctor. I’ll cook up a yarn for her.’ He scratched his head. ‘I must see me old Navy mates an’ see if I can get hold of a service manual for the Mark XI—there ought tobe some still knockin’ around. I’ll need that if I’m goin’ to redesign the circuits.’
‘Do that,’ said Warren. ‘I’d better tell you what it’s all about.’
‘No!’ said Parker. ‘I’ve got the general drift. If this is goin’ to be dangerous then the less I know the better for you.
When the time comes you tell me what to do an’ I’ll do it—if I can.’
Warren asked sharply, ‘Any chance of failure?’
‘Could be—but if I get all I ask for then I think it can be done. The Mark XI’s a nice bit o’ machinery—it shouldn’t be too hard to make it do the impossible.’ He grinned. ‘What made you think o’ goin’ about it this way? Tired of treatin’ new addicts?’
‘Something like that,’ said Warren.
He left Parker buzzing happily to himself about batteries and circuits and with a caution that this was not a firm commitment. But he knew that in spite of his insistence that the arrangements were purely tentative the commitment was hardening.
IV
He telephoned Andrew Tozier. ‘Can I call on you for some support tonight, Andy?’
‘Sure. Doc; moral or muscular?’
‘Maybe a bit of both. I’ll see you at the Howard Club—know where that is?’
‘I know,’ said Tozier. ‘You could choose a better place to lose your money, Doc; it’s as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.’
‘I’m gambling, Andy,’ said Warren. ‘But not with money. Stick in the background, will you? I’ll call on you if I need you. I’ll be there at ten o’clock.’
‘I get the picture; you just want some insurance.’
‘That’s it,’ said Warren, and rang off.
The Howard Club was in Kensington, discreetly camou—flaged in one of the old Victorian terraced houses. Unlike the Soho clubs, there were no flashing neon signs proclaiming blackjack and roulette because this was no cheap operation. There were no half-crown chips to be bought in the Howard Club.
Just after ten o’clock Warren strolled through the gambling rooms towards the bar. He was coolly aware of the professional interest aroused by his visit; the doorkeeper had picked up an internal telephone as he walked in and the news would be quick in reaching the higher echelons. He watched the roulette for a moment, and thought sardonically, If I were James Bond I’d be in there making a killing.
At the bar he ordered a Scotch and when the barman placed it before him a flat American voice said, ‘That will be on the house, Dr Warren.’
Warren turned to find John Follet, the manager of the club, standing behind him. ‘What are you doing so far west?’ asked Follet, ‘If you’re
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