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seated Harvey said to Signe, ‘Let me tell you something, doll, this guy is a hot tamale: he works for a very smart little British Intelligence outfit. He’s not as dopey as he looks.’ Harvey turned to me. ‘You’ve been tangling with this guy Kaarna.’
    ‘Well…’
    ‘OK, OK, OK, you don’t have to tell me. Kaarna is dead.’
    ‘Dead?’
    ‘DED dead. It’s here in the newspaper. You found him dead. You know it, pal.’
    ‘I give you my word I didn’t,’ I said.
    We looked at each other for a minute, then Harvey said, ‘Well anyway he’s joined the major leagues, there’s nothing we can do about that. But when Signe was hustling you yesterday it was because we urgently need someone to carry between here and London. Could you take on a part-time job for the Yanks? The pay is good.’
    ‘I’ll ask the office,’ I said.
    ‘Ask the office,’ he said scornfully. He tapped his toe on the carpet. ‘You’re a big boy with a mind of your own. Why ask anyone?’
    ‘Because your smart organization might just let the word slip, that’s why.’
    Harvey put a finger across his throat. ‘So help me God, they won’t. We are a very neat, tight-fitting department. Guaranteed no snafus. Cash on the barrel-head. What sort of deal have you got with your London set-up anyway?’
    I said, ‘I work on a freelance basis. They pay me a fee per assignment; it’s a part-time job.’ I paused. ‘I could handle some extra tasks if the money was right and if you’re quite sure London won’t find out from your own people.’ It wasn’t true but it seemed a suitable answer.
    Harvey said, ‘You’ll like working with us and we’d be tickled to have you.’
    ‘Then it’s a deal,’ I said. ‘Explain my duties, as they say in domestic circles.’
    ‘Nothing to it. You’ll be carrying materials between here and London. It’ll seldom be anything you can’t declare…’
    ‘So what’s the catch?’
    ‘Valuables. We must have somebody who won’t walk off with the consignment. You’ll have your first-class airfare paid. Hotel and expenses. A retainer and a fee per trip. As one pro to another I’ll tell you it’s a good deal.’ Signe gave us drinks, and as she turned towards the kitchen Harvey gave her an affectionate pat on the bottom. ‘The fat of the land,’ he said. ‘I’m living on the fat of the land.’
    Signe wrenched Harvey’s hand away from her, snorted and walked out with a beguiling movement of the glutaeus maximus.
    Harvey moved his armchair nearer to me. ‘We don’t normally tell our operatives anything about the organization, but I’ll make an exception for you under the old pals’ act. This is a private intelligence unit financed by an old man named Midwinter. Calls himself General Midwinter. He’s from one of those old Texan families that have a lot of German blood. Originally the family came from one of the Baltic states—Latvia or Lithuania—that the Russians now have and hold. This old guy Midwinter has dreams of liberating the territory. I guess he’d like to install himself as a king or something.’
    ‘Sounds great,’ I said. ‘It’s a long time since I worked for a megalomaniac.’
    ‘Hell, I’m exaggerating, but he has got an oversimplified mind. Brilliant men often have. He likes to hear that those poor bastards across there are all set to start a revolution…’
    ‘And you help his illusions,’ I supplied.
    ‘Look, the guy’s a multi-millionaire, a multibillionaire maybe. This is his toy. Why should I spoil his fun? He made his money from canned food and insurance; that’s a dull way to make a billion, so he needs a little fun. The CIA siphon a little money to him…’
    ‘The CIA?’
    ‘Oh, they don’t take us seriously, but you know how their minds work; stealing hubcaps in Moscow is the CIA’s idea of a blow for freedom. And some of the stunts we pull are pretty good. Hehas two radio stations on ships that beam into the Baltic states. You know the sort of