Read A Spy's Life for Free Online Page B

tide was still low. Marker buoys floated on slack lines in the water and flag-sticks protruded from the mud. There was a fair amount of ice about and for a moment Harland’s eyes settled on a brittle white shelf which projected over the mud.
    ‘That’s where we located the cockpit voice and flight data recorders,’ said Ollins, pointing to the furthest flag. ‘They were carried in the tail section which is why they were thrown out along this line.’ He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. ‘Over there is where we found Mr Griswald’s body. And right over there is where the chopper picked you up. It’s a long way between the two points. How’d you get there, Mr Harland?’
    Harland was finding this harder than he’d expected. He stared down at the tufts of grass and the little streams that snaked through the mud. It all looked harmless enough now, but down there in the dark and with the tide rushing in, he had been damned certain that he was going to lose his life. He thought of Al Griswald’s body propped up grotesquely in his seat and the freezing water swirling round his chest and sucking at his legs.
    ‘Mr Harland!’ shouted Ollins over the roar of a plane that had just landed on the other runway. ‘What happened? How did you get there?’
    ‘Swam,’ he shouted back.
    ‘That’s a hundred yards or more. You were swimming out into the East River?’
    ‘I was being swept out there – I was taken by the current.’
    ‘And the phone?’ asked Ollins, leaning into Harland’s face and shouting over the noise of the plane that was now manoeuvring towards the terminal. ‘Can you say where you were when you dropped the phone?’
    Harland looked down at the place where Griswald’s body had been and worked out that he had waded in a line that was parallel to the runway. With the tide being so low now, it was difficult to pinpoint the spot where he’d dropped down into the water and let go of the phone, but he hazarded a guess that it was where the mud shelved down sharply into a gully. At high tide it would be way out of his depth and he could see that what was a trickle of water would become a channel for the tide flowing from the west. Ollins produced a radio from his pocket and guided his beachcombers to the area. A voice came back to tell him that they had already searched there several times. The phone had probably been taken out on the tide. It could be anywhere.
    ‘Why’s the phone so important to you?’
    ‘We’re just researching as much as we can about all the victims.’
    It occurred to Harland that they would want it to see who Griswald had been calling.
    Ollins looked out towards Riker’s Island and then turned to him. ‘I have to ask you this: did you take anything from Alan Griswald’s body?’
    ‘No,’ said Harland, mystified. ‘I thought I was about to lose my life. I wasn’t in the business of ripping off the dead.’
    ‘Nothing?’
    ‘No.’
    Ollins looked at him intently. The wind made his hair stand up vertically in a crest. ‘Were you … er … involved with Mr Griswald in any way? I mean his business at the War Crimes Tribunal. You had nothing to do with that?’
    ‘My work is much less glamorous, if I can put it that way. I barely knew what Al was doing and I expect you’ve found out that he was an exceptionally discreet person.’
    ‘Yes, that’s what the agency said. You’re sure that you didn’t take anything? It could be important.’
    ‘Why are you asking this?’
    Ollins didn’t answer. He turned towards the car and said, ‘Let’s get out of the cold, Mr Harland.’
    They climbed in. ‘Clark says the two black boxes have been retrieved,’ said Harland. ‘Surely they will tell you all you need to know about the plane? As I understand it, they record everything that happened during the flight. They’re very sophisticated these days.’
    Ollins started the engine distractedly and executed a lazy turn towards the Marine Terminal, steering the car with