viewed this eventuality with particular trepidation, since the Ministry manuals had nothing to say on the subject.
âI have no choice but to put you in charge of the investigation,â Owen said. âYou must be thorough, but discreet.â
âNaturally. I will need to travel to Europe to begin my inquiries.â
âWhy?â asked Owen suspiciously.
âI will need to find out the exact circumstances of these arrests. Ordinarily I would do so through the normal channels of the Firm. Since we wish to minimize publicity, I will have to avoid these channels and use a back door.â
âWhat do you have in mind?â
âIâd prefer not to explain the details, if you donât mind, but suffice it to say that I do have some contacts throughout Europe who arenât working for anybody at the moment, and who might have access to the kind of information we need.â
âI see,â Owen said, though obviously he didnât see. âIs this all going to be very expensive?â
âI donât know,â Wyman said flatly.
âWe canât afford to finance holiday trips, you realize.â
Wyman suddenly felt an overpowering urge to grab Owen by the throat and bang his head against the desk.
âIâll keep the expense to a minimum,â he said.
âDo that,â Owen said. âThereâs a recession on, you know.â
Chapter Nine
W YMANâS SON RICHARD lived in a squat in Hackney. He shared it with two girls and a fourth party of dubious gender called Leslie. Wyman did not know whether Leslie was a male homosexual or a female transvestite, and he was always too embarrassed to ask. So when Leslie opened the front door one afternoon, Wyman merely said:
âGood afternoon. Is Richard in?â
âWhy hello, Dr Wyman,â Leslie said. âYes, heâs upstairs. Do come in.â
Wyman entered the hallway and noted that Leslieâs hair was now a delicate shade of violet, which clashed with Leslieâs orange eye-shadow and green lipstick.
âI presume heâs still in bed,â Wyman said. âAfter all, itâs only three in the afternoon.â
âHeâs a delicate boy,â Leslie said. âHe needs rest.â
âHeâs always resting,â Wyman said. âPerhaps one day some one will tell me what heâs resting from.â
âIâm sure you can guess,â Leslie grinned, winking an eye.
Wyman shuddered and went upstairs.
Richardâs door bore the legend âAbandon all hope ye who enter hereâ. Wyman read it, smiled, and knocked.
âRichard? Itâs your father,â Wyman said. âYou know, the man who clears your overdrafts for you.â
âCome in,â Richard mumbled.
Wyman opened the door and beheld the cataclysm in Richardâs room. Wyman was not a tidy or fastidious man, but he was positively spartan in comparison to his son.
âHi, Dad,â said Richard. He grinned sleepily from beneath a duvet, surrounded by an avalanche of books, records, dirty clothes, magazines, plates of decaying food, coffee cups, bottles and cigarette packets.
âGood afternoon,â Wyman said. âI see that little has changed around here. You still wake up at the crack of sunset, your friends are still having hormonal crises, and you still have a splendid disregard for those old bourgeois concepts of order and hygiene.â
âSpare me the irony,â Richard groaned. âItâs too early in the day. Have a seat.â
Wyman waded through the rubble and found a chair that was relatively free of garbage. He sat down and offered his son a cigarette.
âThanks,â Richard said. âWhatâs new?â
âA lot, actually. Thatâs why I called.â Wyman lit both their cigarettes, took a deep puff and continued.
âFirstly, the Firm is making me redundant, and secondly, so is the College.â
âWow!â exclaimed