The Lucy Ghosts

Billie sat next to him, her head tilted down as she read the latest copy of PEOPLE magazine. Across the aisle, Phil Tucker had fallen asleep, his head tilted sideways as his snores rumbled gently on.

They sat in Executive Class. Trimmler and his wife, Trudi, were up front in First. Adam had decided not to follow his usual habit and upgrade himself to First Class. It would have alienated him from Billie and Tucker and he felt no desire to do that, at this stage anyway. He grinned as he thought of the effect it would have had on Trimmler. Maybe he should've upgraded, if only to annoy the touchy little scientist.

'Ever been to New Orleans before?' Billie asked, putting her magazine down. She was relieved the airline had a total restriction on smoking throughout their fleet, it was his one habit she couldn't tolerate.

'No. You?'

'Yes. For my honeymoon.'

'Good timing.'

'Isn't it?'

'Did you get hold of your lawyers?'

'Yes.'

'I thought in California the wife automatically got half her husband's money?'

'I signed a settlement waiver. When we got married.'

'Waiving everything?'

'I was in love. You don't think about things like that when you're in love. And when I signed, he promised that he would always look after me. Some promise.'

'What do your lawyers say?'

'That I might win. They don't care, do they? They win either way.'

'That's the same all over the world. The worse the news, the richer they get. How long were you married?'.

'Twelve years. And separated for six. They were good and bad years. The highs were high and the lows were even worse. Shit. Some mess.'

'Miss him?'

'What are you? A detective?'

'Sorry. I just sensed that.'

'Well, you sensed wrong.'

They sat in silence for a while, still unsure of each other.

'There's nothing wrong with missing someone you lived with for twelve years,’ she said eventually.

'I’m not sitting in judgement.'

'Whatever. So I miss him. So what?'

'No chance of getting back with…'

'If I want your advice, I'll ask for it.'

'Okay.'

'There's no chance of getting back. I tried for long enough.'

'Why did you split up?'

'You really keep pushing, don't you? You can't let go,'

‘ Except you keep coming back to it. But then, that’s what my Mother always said.’

‘We're here working, not on some agony aunt tour.'

'I'll shut up.'

'Good. Anyway, what did your mother always say?'

'That my lips moved faster than my brain.'

'She was right.'

'So why did you split up?'

'Because I grew too old for him. Just like you said, tough guy?'

'When?'

'First time we met. That I was too old for the job.'

'No. I wasn't talking about you as a person. I was talking about you as a field agent.'

'Old and inexperienced, huh?'

'Don't knock yourself. You don't need to.'

'You're right. I don't need to when you're doing it for me.'

'And stop feeling sorry for yourself.'

'Fuck off,' she hissed at him.

'Chance would be a fine thing.'

'What?'

'Chance would be a fine thing. It's an old English saying. You really want me to fuck off?'

'Course not.'

'So why did you split up?'

She started to laugh, his cheek winning through her defences. 'I told you why. Because I grew too old. No, that's not true. He wanted to stay young. Suddenly developed an interest in teenage girls. The older he got, the younger they got. You know, I found him crying once. After we'd broken up and I called round to pick up some things. You know why he was crying. Because this girl of twenty, the one he was living with, didn't walk up to him and touch him. Said that made him feel old. Because, before he went out with her, he'd seen her with her boyfriend at a softball game in the park. She'd walked up to her boyfriend from behind and just put her arms round his shoulder. Hugged him, I guess. Peter said it was the most natural thing he'd ever seen. And he was fucking crying because in three months together she'd not done that to him. You know what I did? I walked up behind him and put my arms round him. I felt sorry for him. He deserved better.'

'What did he do?'

‘Pushed me away. He was embarrassed. He didn't love them, you know. He was obsessed. By their fresh bodies, their soft pubic hair and their wide eyed innocence.'

'Maybe you expected too much?'

'No. I knew what Peter was. I just didn't want to let go. I never wanted anyone else. And here I am, sitting in this metal tube, going to New Orleans where I had my honeymoon, watching over some nothing scientist with a crazy gunman for my partner. And back home the lawyers are moving in to take away everything I've got. It’s crazy, is it?'

'What about Gary?'

'What about him? Probably move out while we're in New Orleans. No, that's unfair. But he does his own thing. It's not…permanent. Not for Gary. Maybe Peter isn't the only one holding on.'

'To what?'

'To whatever it was we were. He's just frightened. Middle age is like sand. The tighter you hold it in your hand, the faster it runs through your fingers. You're a great person for asking questions. About other people. What about you?'

'What about me?'

'Don't answer a question with a question.'

'Why?'

'Because it's rude. I thought you English types were always polite.'

'Sometimes.'

'You married?'

'No.'

'Girlfriend?'

'No.'

'Divorced?'

'No.'

'Gay?'

'Only when I'm happy.'

'Meaning?'

'I prefer queer. When they adopted that phrase they took a great word out of the English language.'

'Macho type, huh?'

'Just normal.'

'You rich?'

'A little.'

'And you like your job?'

'Yes.'

'You good at it?'

'Better than most.'

'Don't let much out, do you?'

'No.'

'If we walk into trouble, and my back's against the wall, will you come and save me?'

'You'll have to wait and see.'

'Whatever happened to the age of chivalry?'

Adam laughed. 'I'll tell you that when your back's to the wall.'

Ch. 28

KGB Headquarters

Dzerzhinsky Square

Moscow

'Dimitri tells me that the Americans have uncovered a problem with their records regarding all counter-espionage action from 1945 until 1958.'

'What problem?' asked the Director.

'Nothing specific. But they believe it could be tied up with our common predicament,' said Rostov.

'And what do they expect from us in return?'

'They have an index of all the subjects that their records deal with during that period. They would like to see if we would be willing to provide a similar list so that they could determine if there were any common factors.'

'Our little fire in this building suddenly takes on a new complexion.'

'It'll be interesting to find out what problem the Americans have with their records.'

'There are things in those files, in those cabinets, that would cause us great embarrassment if they were ever to get out,' grunted the Director.

'We can't always be responsible for the past. It is a chance I feel we have to take.'

'And if the Americans are out to deceive us?'

'We have people on the ground over there.'

The Director raised his eyebrows. 'Nothing against the spirit of cooperation between our two great countries, I hope.'

'Of course not,' Rostov lied, as was expected of him. 'We'll follow their actions as closely as we can.' He wasn't prepared to say any more. They both understood that the Director was to be protected when faced with awkward questions from the Kremlin. 'We'll take it step by step. If they're prepared to show us the outline of their files, without giving away any specific details, then we can do the same. I already have an index prepared. It was for my benefit. Maybe there is some common ground.