jamesclavell.noblehouse-第93部分

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　〃But　they　haven't。　Our　Narcotics　Branch's　the　best　in　Asia　…　they've　never　e　up　with　anything　to　support　your　misguided　official　theory　that　they're　behind　the　trade。　Nothing。　The　PRC　are　as　anti…drug　traffic　as　the　rest　of　us。〃
　〃Have　it　your　way；〃　Rosemont　said。　〃Rog；　you　got　a　file　on　this　agent？　He's　KGB；　isn't　he？〃
　Crosse　lit　a　cigarette。　〃Voranski　was　here　last　year。　That　time　he　went　under　the　cover　name　of　Sergei　Kudryov；　again　seaman　first　class；　again　off　the　same　ship　…　they're　not　very　inventive；　are　they？〃　Neither　of　the　two　men　smiled。　〃His　real　name's　Major　Yuri　Bakyan；　First　Directorate；　KGB；　Department　6。〃
　Rosemont　sighed　heavily。
　The　FBI　man　glanced　at　him。　〃Then　you're　right。　It　all　ties　in。〃
　〃Maybe。〃　The　tall　man　thought　a　moment。　〃Rog；　what　about　his　contacts　from　last　year？〃
　〃He　acted　like　a　tourist；　staying　at　the　Nine　Dragons　in　Kowloon。　。。。〃
　〃That's　in　AMG's　report；　that　hotel's　mentioned；〃　Langan　said。
　〃Yes。　We've　been　covering　it　for　a　year　or　so。　We've　found　nothing。　Bakyan　…　Voranski　…　did　ordinary　tourist　activities。　We　had　him　on　twenty…four…hour　surveillance。　He　stayed　a　couple　of　weeks；　then；　just　before　the　ship　sailed；　sneaked　back　aboard。〃
　〃Girl　friend？〃
　〃No。　Not　a　regular　one。　He　used　to　hang　out　at　the　Good　Luck　Dance　Hall　in　Wanchai。　Quite　a　cocksman；　apparently；　but　he　asked　no　questions　and　met　no　one　out　of　the　ordinary。〃
　〃He　ever　visit　Sinclair　Towers？〃
　〃No。〃
　〃Pity；〃　Langan　said；　〃that'd've　been　dandy。　Tsu…yan's　got　a　place　there。　Tsu…yan　knows　Banastasio；　John　Chen　knows　Banastasio；　and　we're　back　to　guns；　narcotics；　AMG　and　Sevrin。〃
　〃Yeah；〃　Rosemont　said；　then　added；　〃Have　you　caught　up　with　Tsu…yan　yet？〃
　〃No。　He　got　to　Taipei　safely；　then　vanished。〃
　〃You　think　he's　holed　up　there？〃
　〃I　would　imagine　so；〃　Crosse　said。　But　inside　he　believed　him　dead；　already　eliminated　by　Nationalist；　munist；　Mafia　or　triad。　I　wonder　if　he　could　have　been　a　double　agent　…　or　the　supreme　devil　of　all　intelligence　services；　a　triple　agent？
　〃You'll　find　him　…　or　we　will　…　or　the　Taiwan　boys　will。〃
　〃Roger；　did　Voranski　lead　you　anywhere？〃　Langan　asked。
　〃No。　Nowhere；　even　though　we've　had　tabs　on　him　for　years。　He's　been　attached　to　the　Soviet　Trade　mission　in　Bangkok；　he　spent　time　in　Hanoi；　and　Seoul；　but　no　covert　activities　we　know　of。　Once　the　cheeky　bugger　even　applied　for　a　British　passport　and　almost　got　one。　Luckily　our　fellows　vet　all　applications　and　spotted　flaws　in　his　cover。　I'm　sorry　he's　dead　…　you　know　how　hard　it　is　to　identify　nasties。　Waste　of　a　lot　of　time　and　effort。〃　Crosse　paused　and　lit　a　cigarette。　〃His　major's　rank　is　quite　senior　which　suggests　something　very　smelly。　Perhaps　he　was　just　another　of　their　specials　who　was　ordered　to　cruise　Asia　and　get　into　deep　cover　for　twenty　or　thirty　years。〃
　〃Those　bastards　have　had　their　game　plan　set　for　so　long　it　stinks！〃　Rosemont　sighed。　〃What're　you　going　to　do　with　the　corpse？〃
　Crosse　smiled。　〃I　got　one　of　my　Russian…speaking　fellows　to　call　the　captain　of　the　ship　…　Gregor　Suslev。　He's　a　Party　member；　of　course；　but　fairly　harmless。　Has　a　sporadic　girl　friend　with　a　flat　in　Mong　Kok　…　a　bar　girl　who　gets　a　modest　allowance　from　him　and　entertains　him　when　he's　here。　He　goes　to　the　races；　theater；　Macao　gambling　a　couple　of　times；　speaks　good　English。　Suslev's　under　surveillance。　I　don't　want　any　of　your　hotshots　ponging　on　one　of　our　known　hostiles。〃
　〃So　Suslev's　regular　here　then？〃
　〃Yes；　he's　been　plying　these　waters　for　years；　based　out　of　Vladivostok　…　he's　an　ex…submarine　mander　by　the　way。　He　wanders　around　the　fringe　here；　mostly　under　the　weather。〃
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　〃Drunk；　but　not　badly　so。　Cavorts　with　a　few　of　our　British　pinkos　like　Sam　and　Molly　Finn。〃
　〃The　ones　who're　always　writing　letters　to　the　papers？〃
　〃Yes。　They're　more　of　a　nuisance　than　a　security　risk。　Anyway；　under　instructions；　my　Russian…speaking　fellow　told　Captain　Suslev　we　were　frightfully　sorry　but　it　seemed　that　one　of　his　seamen　had　had　a　heart　attack　in　a　phone　booth　at　Golden　Ferry　Terminal。　Suslev　was　suitably　shocked　and　quite　reasonable。　In　Voranski's　pocket　there　'happened'　to　be　an　accurate；　verbatim　report　of　the　assassin's　phone　conversation。　We　put　it　in　Russian　as　a　further　sign　of　our　displeasure。　They're　all　professionals　aboard　that　ship；　and　sophisticated　enough　to　know　we　don't　remove　their　agents　without　very　great　cause　and　provocation。　They　know　we　just　watch　the　ones　we　know　about　and；　if　we're　really　very　irritated；　we　deport　them。〃　Crosse　looked　across　at　Rosemont；　his　eyes　hard　though　his　voice　stayed　matter…of…fact。　〃We　find　our　methods　more　effective　than　the　knife；　garrotte；　poison　or　bullet。〃
　The　CIA　man　nodded。　〃But　who　would　want　to　kill　him？〃
　Crosse　glanced　at　the　photos　again。　He　did　not　recognize　the　two　Chinese；　but　their　faces　were　clear　and　the　body　in　the　background　unbelievable　evidence。　〃We'll　find　them。　Whoever　they　are。　The　one　who　phoned　our　police　station　claimed　they　were　14K。　But　he　only　spoke　Shanghainese　with　a　Ningpo　dialect；　so　that's　unlikely。　Probably　he　was　a　triad　of　some　sort。　He　could　be　Green　Pang。　He　was　certainly　a　trained　professional　…　the　knife　was　used　perfectly；　with　great　precision　…　one　moment　alive；　the　next　dead　and　no　sound。　Could　be　one　of　your　CIA's　trainees　in　Chiang　Kai…shek's　intelligence　agency。　Or　perhaps　the　Korean　CIA；　more　of　your　trainees　…　they're　anti…Soviet　too；　aren't　they？　Possibly　PRC　agents；　but　that's　improbable。　Their　agents　don't　usually　go　in　for　quai　loh　murder；　and　certainly　not　in　Hong　Kong。〃
　Rosemont　nodded　and　let　the　censure　pass。　He　gave　Crosse　the　remaining　photos；　wanting　the　Englishman's　cooperation　and　needing　it。　〃These're　shots　of　the　house　they　went　into。　And　the　street　sign。　Our　guy　couldn't　read　characters　but　it　translates；　'Street　of　the　First　Season；　Number　14。'　It's　a　rotten　little　alley　in　back　of　the　bus　depot　in　North　Point。〃
　Crosse　began　to　examine　them　with　equal　care。　Rosemont　glanced　at　his　watch；　then　got　up　and　went　to　the　single　window　that　faced　part　of　the　harbor。　〃Look！〃　he　said　proudly。
　The　other　two　went　over　to　him。　The　great　nuclear　carrier　was　just　rounding　North　Point　heading　for　the　navy　yard。　Hong　Kong　side。　She　was　dressed　overall；　all　her　obligatory　flags　stiff　in　the　breeze；　crowds　of　white…clothed　sailors　on　her　vast　deck；　with　neat　lines　of　her　vicious　fighter　jet　airplanes。　Almost　84；000　tons。　No　smokestack；　just　a　vast；　ominous　bridge　plex；　with　an　eleven…hundred…foot　angled　runway　that　could　retrieve　and　launch　jets　simultaneously。　The　first　of　a　generation。
　〃That's　some　ship；〃　Crosse　said　enviously。　This　was　the　first　time　the　colossus　had　entered　Hong　Kong　since　her　missioning　in　1960。　〃Pretty；〃　he　said；　hating　the　fact　she　was　American　and　not　British。　〃What's　her　top　speed？〃
　〃I　don't　know　…　that's　classified　along　with　most　everything　else。〃　Rosemont　turned　to　watch　him。　〃Can't　you　send　that　goddamn　Soviet　spy　ship　to　hell　out　of　port？〃
　〃Yes；　and　we　could　blow　it　up；　but　that　would　be　equally　foolish。　Stanley；　relax；　you　have　to　be　a　little　civilized　about　these　things。　Repairing　their　ships　…　and　some　of　them　really　do　need　it　…　is　a　good　source　of　revenue；　and　intelligence；　and　they　pay　their　bills　promptly。　Our　ways　have　been　tried　and　tested　over　the　years。〃
　Yes；　Rosemont　was　thinking　without　rancor；　but　your　ways　don't　work　anymore。　The　British　Empire's　no　more；　the　British　raj　no　more　and　we've　a　different　enemy　now；　smarter　rougher　dedicated　totalitarian　fanatic；　with　no　Queensberry　rules　and　a　worldwide　plan　that's　lavishly　funded　by　whatever　it　takes。　You　British've　no　dough　now；　no　clout；　no　navy；　no　army；　no　air　force；　and　your　goddamn　government's　filled　with　socialist　and　enemy　pus；　and　we　think　they　sold　you　out。　You've　been　screwed　from　within；　your　security's　the　pits　from　Klaus　Fuchs　and　Philby　on　down。　Jesus；　we　won　both　goddamn　wars　for　you；　paid　for　most　of　it　and　both　times　you've　screwed　up　the　peace。　And　if　it　wasn't　for　our　Strategic　Air　mand；　our　missiles；　our　nuclear　strike　force；　our　navy；　our　army；　our　air　force　our　taxpayers　our　dough；　you'd　all　be　dead　or　in　goddamn　Siberia。　Meanwh