Spy Hook

'Jim got the divorce in Mexico,' she said. 'Someone told me that it's not really legal. A friend of mine: she works in the American embassy. She said Mexican marriages and divorces aren't legal here. Is that true, Bernard?'

'I don't imagine that the Mexican ambassador is living in sin, if that's what you mean.'

'But how do I stand, Bernard? He married this other woman. I mean, how do I stand now?'

'Didn't you talk to him about it?' My eyes had become accustomed to the darkness now and I could see her better. She hadn't changed much, she was the same tiny bundle of brains and nervous energy. She was short with a full figure but had never been plump. She was attractive in an austere way with dark hair that she kept short so it would be no trouble to her. But her nose was reddened as if she had a cold and her eyes were watery.

'He asked me to go with him.' She was proud of that and she wanted me to know.

'I know he did. He told everyone that you would change your mind.'

'No. I had my job!' she said, her voice rising as if to repeat the arguments they'd had about it.

'It's a difficult decision,' I said to calm her. In the silence there was a sudden loud throbbing noise close by. She jumped almost out of her skin. Then she realized that it was the freezer cabinet in the corner and she smiled.

'Perhaps I should have done. It would have been better I suppose.'

'It's too late now, Cindy,' I said hurriedly before she started to go weepy on me.

'I know; I know; I know.' She got a handkerchief from her pocket but rolled it up and gripped it tight in her red-knuckled hand as if resolving not to sob.

'Perhaps you should see a lawyer,' I said.

'What do they know?' she said contemptuously. 'I've seen three lawyers. They pass you on one from the other like a parcel, and by the time I was finished paying out all the fees I knew that some law books say one thing and other law books say different.'

'The lawyers can quote from the law books until they are blue in the face,' I said. 'But eventually people have to sort out the solutions with each other. Going to lawyers is just an expensive way of putting off what you're going to have to do anyway.'

'Is that what you really think, Bernard?'

'More or less,' I said. 'Buying a house, making a will, getting divorced. Providing you know what you want, you don't need a lawyer for any of that.'

'Yes,' she said. 'What's more important than getting married, and you don't go to a lawyer to do that.'

'In foreign countries you do,' I told her. 'Couples don't get married without signing a marriage contract. They never have this sort of problem that you have. They decide it all beforehand.'

'It sounds a bit cold-blooded.'

'Maybe it is, but marriage can be a bit too hot-blooded too.'

'Was yours?' She released her grip on the tiny handkerchief and spread it out on her lap to see the coloured border and the embroidered initials LP.

'My marriage?' I said. 'Too hot-blooded?'

'Yes.'

'Perhaps.' I sipped my drink. It was a long time since I'd had one of these heavy bitter-tasting brews. I wiped the froth from my lips; it was good. 'I thought I knew Fiona, but I suppose I didn't know her well enough.'

'She was so lovely. I know she loved you, Bernard.'

'I think she did.'

'She showed me that fantastic engagement ring and said, Bernie sold his Ferrari to buy that for me.'

'It sounds like a line from afternoon television,' I said, 'but it was a very old battered Ferrari.'

'She loved you, Bernard.'

'People change, Cindy. You said that yourself.'

'Did it affect the children much?'

'Billy seemed to take it in his stride but Sally… She was all right until I took a girl-friend home. Lots of crying at night. But I think she's adjusted now.' I said it more because I wanted it to be true than because I believed it. I worried about the children, worried a lot, but that was none of Cindy's business.

'Gloria Kent, the one you work with?'

This Cindy knew everything. Well, the FO had always been Whitehall 's gossip exchange. 'That's right,' I said.

'It's difficult for children,' said Cindy. 'I suppose I should be thankful that we didn't have any.'

'You're right,' I said. I drank some Guinness and sneaked a look at the time.

'But on the other hand, if we'd had kids perhaps Jim wouldn't have wanted to go so much. He wanted to prove himself, you see. Lately I've wondered if he blamed himself that we never were able to have children.'

'Jim was talking about that time when the kitchen caught fire,' I said.

'Jim spilled the oil. He's always been clumsy.'

'Fiona didn't do it?'

'She took the blame,' said Cindy with a sigh. 'Jim could never admit to making a mistake. That was his nature.'

'Yes, Fiona took the blame,' I said. 'She told me Jim did it but she really took the blame… the insurance… everything.'

'Fiona was a remarkable woman, Bernard, you know that. Fiona had such self-confidence that blame never touched her. I admired her. I would have given almost anything to have been like Fiona, she was always so calm and poised.'

I didn't respond. Cindy drank some of her tonic water and smoothed her dress and cleared her throat and then said, 'The reason I wanted to talk to you, Bernard, is to see what the Department will do.'

'What the Department will do?' I said. I was puzzled.

'Do about Jim,' said Cindy. I could see her squeezing the handkerchief in repeated movements, like someone exercising their hands.

'About Jim.' I blew dust from my spectacle lenses and began to polish them. They'd picked up grease from the air and polishing just made them more smeary. The only way to get them clean was to wash them with kitchen detergent under the warm tap. The optician advised against this method but I went on doing it anyway. I'm not sure what you mean, Cindy.'

'Will they pay me or this American woman, this so-called "wife",' she said angrily.

'Pay you?' I put my glasses on and looked at her.

'Don't be so difficult, Bernard. I must know. I must. Surely you can see that.'

'Pay you what?'

Her face changed. 'Holy Mary!' she said in that way that only church-going Catholics say such things. 'You don't know!' It was a lament. 'Jim is dead. They killed him Friday night when he left the office after seeing you. They shot him. Six bullets.'

'Last Friday.'

'In the car park. It was dark. He didn't stand a chance. There were two of them; waiting for him. No one told you?'

'No.'

'Don't think me callous, Bernard. But I want to put in a claim for his pension before this other woman. What should I do?'

'Is there a pension, Cindy? I would have thought all that would have been wound up when he left.'

'Left? He's never stopped working for the Department.'

'You're wrong about that, Cindy,' I said.

She became excited. 'Do you think I don't know! By God, I saw…' she stopped suddenly, as if she might be saying something I wasn't entitled to know.

'I was there in Washington asking him to come to London to give evidence. He wouldn't come,' I explained quietly.

'That was the cover-up, Bernard,' she said. She had her temper under control now but she was still angry. 'They wanted him in London but it was going to be done as if he came under protest.'

'It fooled me,' I said.

'Jim got into very deep water,' she said. 'Was it the money you had to talk to him about?'

I nodded.

'Jim arranged all that,' she said sadly. 'Millions and millions of pounds in some secret foreign bank account. A lot of people were empowered to sign: Jim was one of them.'

'You're not saying that Jim was killed because of this, are you Cindy?'

'What was it then: robbery?' she said scornfully.

' Washington is a rough place,' I told her.