Part 10 (1/2)

The word friends friends seems to trouble him. He repeats it, breaks off, mutters something in Russian to himself, and takes a pull of vodka before resuming. seems to trouble him. He repeats it, breaks off, mutters something in Russian to himself, and takes a pull of vodka before resuming.

'My friends friends, they talk these pilots, do deal, very private deal, no comebacks, OK?'

OK. No comebacks.

'Know what they fly in these empty planes, Professor? No customs, freight on board, direct to buyer, GuantanamoKabul, cash up front?'

No, Perry has no suggestions for a likely cargo out of Guantanamo bound for Kabul, cash up front.

'Lobster, Professor!' slapping his hand on his great thigh in a fit of savage laughter. 'Couple thousand G.o.ddam lobster from Bay of Mexico! Who buy G.o.ddam lobster? Crazy warlords! From warlords, CIA buy prisoners prisoners. To warlords, CIA sell G.o.ddam lobsters G.o.ddam lobsters. Cash. Maybe also a few K heroin for prison guards at Guantanamo. Best grade. 999. No s.h.i.+t. Believe me, Professor!'

Is Perry supposed to be shocked? He tries to be. Is this really sufficient reason to drag him to a rickety lookout bombarded by the wind? He doesn't believe so. Neither, he suspects, does Dima. The story sounds more like some kind of sighting shot for whatever lies ahead.

'Know what my friends friends do with this cash, Professor?' do with this cash, Professor?'

No, Perry does not know what Dima's friends friends do with the profits from smuggling lobsters from the Bay of Mexico to Afghan warlords. do with the profits from smuggling lobsters from the Bay of Mexico to Afghan warlords.

'They bring this cash to Dima Dima. Why they do that? Because they are trusting trusting Dima. Many, many Russian syndicate trust Dima! Not only Russian! Big, small, I don't give a s.h.i.+t! We take Dima. Many, many Russian syndicate trust Dima! Not only Russian! Big, small, I don't give a s.h.i.+t! We take all all! You tell your English spies: you got dirty money? Dima wash it for you, no problem! You wanna save and conserve? Come to Dima! Out of many little roads, Dima make one big big road. Tell road. Tell this this to your G.o.ddam spies, Professor.' to your G.o.ddam spies, Professor.'

'So how are you reading reading the b.u.g.g.e.r at this stage?' Hector asks. 'He's sweating, bragging, drinking, joking. He's telling you he's a crook and a money-launderer and he's boasting about his bent chums what are you really the b.u.g.g.e.r at this stage?' Hector asks. 'He's sweating, bragging, drinking, joking. He's telling you he's a crook and a money-launderer and he's boasting about his bent chums what are you really seeing seeing and and hearing hearing? What's going on inside him?'

Perry considers the premise as if it has been set for him by a higher examiner, which is how he is beginning to see Hector. 'Anger?' he proposes. 'Directed at a person or persons yet to be defined?'

'Keep going,' Hector orders.

'Desperation. Also to be defined.'

'How about honest-to-G.o.d hatred, always good?' Hector insists.

'To come, one suspects.'

'Vengeance?'

'Is somewhere in there, definitely,' Perry agrees.

'Calculation? Ambivalence? Animal cunning? Think harder!' spoken in jest, but received in earnest.

'All of the above. No question.'

'And shame shame? Self-disgust? Self-disgust? None of that about?' None of that about?'

Taken aback, Perry ponders, frowns, peers about him. 'Yes,' he concedes in a long-drawn-out voice. 'Yes. Shame. The apostate's apostate's shame. shame. Ashamed Ashamed to be dealing with me at all. to be dealing with me at all. Ashamed Ashamed of his treachery. That's why he had to boast so much.' of his treachery. That's why he had to boast so much.'

'I'm a G.o.ddam clairvoyant,' says Hector with satisfaction. 'Ask anyone.'

Perry doesn't need to.

Perry is describing the long minutes of silence, the conflicting grimaces of Dima's sweated face in the half-darkness, how he pours himself another vodka, chucks it back, mops his face, grins, glowers indignantly at Perry as if questioning his presence, reaches out and grabs him by the knee in order to hold his attention while he makes a point, relinquishes it, and forgets him again. And how finally, in a voice of deepest suspicion, he growls out a question that must be squarely answered before any other business can be conducted between them: 'You see my Natasha?'

Perry has seen his Natasha.

'She beautiful?'

Perry has no difficulty a.s.suring Dima that Natasha is indeed very beautiful.

'Ten, twelve book a week, she don't givva s.h.i.+t. Read them all. You wanna get a few student like that, you be G.o.ddam happy.'

Perry says he would indeed be happy.

'Ride horse, dance ballet. Ski so beautiful like G.o.ddam bird. Wanna know something? Her mother. She got dead. I loved this woman. OK?'

Perry makes noises of regret.

'Maybe I f.u.c.k too many women once. Some guys, they need a lotta women. Good women, they wanna be the only one. You screw around, they go a bit crazy. That's a pity.'

Perry agrees it's a pity.

'Jesus G.o.d, Professor!' He is leaning forward, stabbing at Perry's knee with his index finger. 'Natasha's mother, I love love that woman, I love her so much I explode, hear me? Love like make your guts on fire. Your p.r.i.c.k, b.a.l.l.s, heart, brain, your soul: they live only for this love.' He makes another pa.s.s of the back of his hand across his mouth, mutters 'like your Gail, beautiful', takes a shot of vodka and continues. 'Her b.a.s.t.a.r.d husband kill her,' he confides. 'Know that woman, I love her so much I explode, hear me? Love like make your guts on fire. Your p.r.i.c.k, b.a.l.l.s, heart, brain, your soul: they live only for this love.' He makes another pa.s.s of the back of his hand across his mouth, mutters 'like your Gail, beautiful', takes a shot of vodka and continues. 'Her b.a.s.t.a.r.d husband kill her,' he confides. 'Know why why?'

No, Perry does not know why Natasha's mother's b.a.s.t.a.r.d husband killed Natasha's mother, but he is waiting to discover, just as he is waiting to discover whether he really is in a madhouse.

'Natasha she my my child. When Natasha's mother tell this to him because she cannot lie, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d kill her. One day, maybe I find this b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Kill him. Not with gun. With these.' child. When Natasha's mother tell this to him because she cannot lie, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d kill her. One day, maybe I find this b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Kill him. Not with gun. With these.'

He holds up his improbably delicate hands for Perry's inspection. Perry dutifully admires them.

'My Natasha go to Eton School, OK? Tell this to your spies. Or no deal.'

For a brief moment, in a violently rotating world, Perry feels himself on firm ground.

'I'm not absolutely sure that Eton takes girls yet,' he says cautiously.

'I pay good. I give swimming pool. No problem.'

'Even so, I don't think they'll change the rules for her.'

'So where she go?' Dima demands recklessly, as if it's Perry and not the school who is making the difficulties.

'There's a place called Roedean. It's supposed to be the girls' equivalent of Eton.'

'Number one for England?'

'People say so.'