little innocence behind them, I knew that.
âWell,â I told him, âIâm surprised,â because I was.
âReally?â
âUm . . . really. Yeah.â
He had a scent, though, and he wasnât going to let me off. It was one of Seddonâs little tricks: heâd called me in on the pretense of telling me something, when it was he who wanted answers. A technique that heâd perfected through a long and very prosperous career.
I said, âYouâve looked this up, Iâm sure. Last time in Hungary, Shailer was a trainee. They put him down as my assistant.â
âHm. Well. Roles reversed, these days, no doubt.â
âI donât see why he wants me. Weâre not, you know, in contact.â
âNo. And if I knew, of course, Iâd tell you. I presume heâs got his reasons. Tell meââÂthe index fingers steepled once againâÂâwhat happened there? When you were with him last? Eh?â
âYouâve read it. Thatâs what happened.â
âYes, yes. Only Iâd like to hear it . . . from the horseâs mouth, letâs say. Hm?â
I shrugged, sat back. âNot much to tell. I wrote what happened. Itâs a long time back. There was a bit of troubleâÂmalfunction. We sorted it, the job went fine. It was a good haul.â
âNot as good as was expected, though. There was a shortfall. Also, I notice from the file that Shailer came home early. Any reason?â
âI donât know. Probably a prior appointment.â
âWell, that would be one explanation, anyway. And you stayed on.â
I nodded. No point fuddling the facts.
âA difficult one, though? I know you ops. You have a problem, you talk about it ever after, analyze and gossip, and you never let it drop. So. Difficult?â
I said, âThere was . . . oh, a problem with a cable. Cracked core. I moved it, got the current flowing, finished off the job. After, I replaced it. Nothing much to talk about.â
âResourceful. So that must be why Shailerâs picked you.â
âWell. I wouldnât know.â
Seddon said one last thing, just before he let me go. âI knew a fellow worked for Shailer once. Bright chap, nice enough. They had a falling outâÂdonât know the details, what it was about, who was responsible.â He was watching me now, scrutinizing every twitch and nuance on my face. âDrives a cab, these days. Iâd imagine itâs a decent wage. But he isnât with the Registry.â
âAh.â
âJust so you know.â
Ten minutes later I was sitting at my desk, trying, for the third time, to make out my expenses claim.
Hungary, I thought.
And: Shailer .
Then I swore and smacked the tabletop.
Derek, pattering away at his keyboard, gave me a nasty little sideways smirk.
No wonder I preferred to work alone.
Â
CHAPTER 7
TALK SHOW
I was late getting to Budapest. I didnât mean to be. But the plane was late, and then the train was late, and I had to go to my hotel and drop my luggage off and freshen up, and, well, to tell the truth, I maybe wasnât in much of a hurry after all.
So the session was in progress when I slid into the hall. An usher proffered headphones for the simultaneous translation, but I doubted Shailer would know any words I didnât. So I skirted down the side aisle, found a spare seat about halfway from the front, and sat. Iâd assumed the gig was aimed at locals, but my neighbors here were both Chinese; they bowed politely, holding their headphones in place as they did so. A speaker mounted on the wall behind me helpfully relayed the lecture.
I sort of recognized the voice.
I didnât recognize the man at all.
Shailer was all grown up. Gone were the surfer duds, the baggy shorts and baseball cap, the hair that hung down like a curtain in his eyes. He stood upon a small stage at the front of the hall,