The Tamarind Seed (9 page)

‘All right, why bother to do something for me?'

‘Ah,' Sverdlov said. ‘Because I hope to get something out of it for myself. And you know what
that
is.'

‘I see; thanks.'

‘You believe me,' he said. ‘You are very gullible. No wonder the Group Captain made such a fool of you. He told you he loved you, and you believed him. I tell you I do something to please you because I want to go to bed with you and you believe me. We are both liars. How are you going to survive, if you can't tell the difference between one lie and another—I am really worried for you.'

‘Stop making fun of me. And I've asked you not to keep on mentioning Richard. I shouldn't have told you. It was very stupid of me.'

‘You don't know how charming it is to find an intelligent woman who does stupid things,' Sverdlov said solemnly. ‘Now tell me something. Are you as sad about your lover as you were when I first met you? Is your heart still broken—we have a clinic in Moscow where they do wonderful operations for the heart—does it really hurt so much when I talk about him?'

‘No,' Judith admitted. ‘No, it doesn't. It seems less real out here. But I'm not looking forward to going back.'

‘It will be easier than you expect. You will think of me, instead of him. We can meet perhaps, in New York. If we are very discreet about it.'

‘It mightn't be a good idea for you,' Judith said. ‘I'm sure it wouldn't be popular with your Ambassador.'

‘I said discreet,' Sverdlov reminded her. ‘Leave the arrangements to me. Now, if you are hungry, we will have dinner.'

It was their last evening, and as they drove back to the hotel Judith noticed that he was silent. Normally he talked most of the time they were together. He came to her door with her and waited. His face was in shadow and she couldn't see its expression.

‘Will you meet me in New York?'

‘I don't know,' Judith answered truthfully. ‘Here is different. There'd be so many complications there. Wait till we're both back at work. You may feel it would be better not.' She put the key in the lock; it was stiff and he had to turn it for her.

‘You've been very nice to me,' she said suddenly. ‘And you've helped me a lot over that other business … to get it in proportion. I hope you feel happier too, about going back.'

‘I feel the same,' he said. ‘This is not just a broken love affair for me. It is a way of life. But it is the only one I know. I told you tonight, survival is what matters. I will be ready to drive you tomorrow morning.'

She let him kiss her; there was no gaiety between them now; she felt torn and sad by saying goodbye to him outside the door. But nothing would have made her ask him in. She'd had enough of that with Richard Paterson. Enough of the impermanence of sex, the sense of crushing anti-climax watching him dress and whistle happily as he prepared to walk away. She got free of the Russian with some effort. He had bruised her mouth; she could feel his arms trembling. ‘Good night.' She said it very quickly and went inside her bungalow.

When he drove her to the airport he was his usual self; he joked and talked through the short twenty-minute drive. Everything seemed brighter that last morning, even the blood-coloured poinsettias appeared richer in colour, the graceful bougainvillaeas more royally purple.

If I never see it again, Judith thought suddenly, I'll remember this place all my life. At the reception lounge she said goodbye to Sverdlov; the flight was called, there was no point in delaying. She had a sense of unreality, as if the man and the island were part of the same suspension from life. ‘Here,' he said. ‘I kept this for you. And I have one; a souvenir of our holiday.'

He gave her an envelope. She opened it as she walked to the plane. Inside was a tamarind seed.

‘Tell me about your holiday, Mrs. Farrow. Did you have a good time in Barbados?'

‘I'm not answering any questions.' Judith was standing: the man with ginger hair was sprawling back in one of her armchairs. He had met her with a car at the airport; another man, who was also in the apartment but out of sight, picked her up as she came out of Customs. He had established himself as a member of the Embassy staff, and Judith, supposing that there must be some link-up with Nielson and the work in hand for the Security Council Meeting, accepted and followed him. Inside the big blue Chevrolet she found the second man, who walked into her apartment with her. There was nothing she could do.

They didn't lock the doors or adopt a sinister attitude. The senior man with the ugly freckled face and regional accent told the younger one to go and rustle up some tea. Then he just sat down, lit a cigarette and asked her if she would give him an hour of her time and answer a few questions. ‘You may be asked questions when you get back.' Sverdlov had warned her what might happen. She felt angry as well as frightened. How dare they behave as if they were in some third rate espionage movie. Loder saw the look on her face and guessed what her reaction was going to be.

‘What is this all about?' She stood in front of him, hoping it gave her an advantage. ‘You collect me in a car and you come up here without any invitation from me, and have the damned nerve to start asking me questions. Who and what are you, Mr. Loder?' He had introduced himself in the car, holding out his stubby hand to shake hers.

‘I told you. I'm the Liaison Officer with Plans,' he said. ‘Tell me about Barbados. I've never been to any of the islands. You've got a nice tan; weather must have been good.'

‘The weather was marvellous; you didn't come all the way from Washington to ask me about that.'

‘No,' Loder agreed. ‘I didn't. But I do want to hear about your holiday. Meet anyone interesting?'

Standing looking down at him didn't give her an advantage; it made her feel as if she were on trial in some way. At that moment the younger man put his head round the door. ‘No tea,' he said, speaking to Loder. ‘Coffee do?'

‘Coffee's all right. You'll have some, won't you, Mrs. Farrow?'

If she hadn't been so scared of him, Judith would have told him to go to hell. She should have done so, and she was furious with herself for not taking the initiative away from him. He had no right to sit there, no right to send his driver out to her kitchen. No right to look at her like that and offer her a cup of her own coffee.

He wasn't a big man, he didn't look like a detective or a strong-arm investigator; he looked like a middle-aged official in a government office. He wore an R.A.F. tie. She should not have been afraid of him, but she was.

‘You haven't told me,' he said. ‘Did you meet anyone interesting while you were abroad? Make any friends?'

‘You know very well I did,' she surprised herself by answering with a confidence she didn't feel. ‘That's why you're here, isn't it? He said you people would come round.'

‘Well he should know,' Loder remarked. ‘I'd be glad if you'd tell me exactly what happened. What was this man's name anyway—you said “he”, didn't you, Mrs. Farrow?'

‘His name was Feodor Sverdlov. He's a military attaché at the Soviet Embassy. That's all there is to tell you, unless you want a day by day account of how many times we went swimming, where we went to dinner, what we ate. I can't remember every little detail, I'm afraid.'

‘You won't be asked to,' Loder answered. ‘I wonder what our boy Joseph's doing with the coffee—I hate the bloody stuff myself. But it's better than nothing. Did he make friends with anyone else, besides you?'

‘No,' Judith gave up and sat down herself. She found some of Nancy Nielson's cigarettes in a box and lit one. It tasted thin and insipid after Sverdlov's brand. He had given her a box to take home.

‘We spent the time together. As far as I know he never spoke to anyone else.'

‘Did he go out alone at all—take trips round the island; did he start off with you in the car and then leave you on a beach while he went somewhere on his own? Anything like that?'

‘No,' Judith said. ‘We spent all day together. He never went anywhere without me.'

‘Sounds as if you got on very well.'

‘If you're going to speak to me like that …' She half got out of the chair; he held up his hand, palm outwards like a schoolmaster admonishing a difficult pupil.

‘Don't take it personally, Mrs. Farrow. I'm just doing my job. Here's Joseph. Where the hell have you been? Cooking a three-course dinner?'

‘Sorry,' the driver said. ‘Couldn't find the gear.'

‘You're not domesticated,' Loder said. ‘How do you like it, Mrs. Farrow—milk and sugar?'

‘I don't want any, thank you.' She looked up and caught the man he called Joseph watching her. There was a curious relationship between the two. Both had completely dropped the Foreign Office pose of official and chauffeur. They seemed to be playing a private game for her benefit. Or perhaps to amuse themselves.

‘Don't be like that, Mrs. Farrow. You can't expect to pick up a senior Soviet official like Colonel Sverdlov and not set a cat among the pigeons. Especially here. You know how the Yanks feel about getting chummy with them. You must have known we'd be calling on you.'

‘I don't see any reason why you should.' Judith found it more difficult to keep up with him because of the second man's presence in the room. She couldn't understand why, but it was so. ‘I've done nothing wrong. I met a man staying in the same hotel, we went around together. I liked his company and he liked mine, apparently. I don't see how that concerns anyone else. I'm sorry.'

‘That's a point of view,' Loder admitted. ‘But not a very valid one. You work for a man in a very important position, don't you, Mrs. Farrow? Sam Nielson deals with a lot of confidential stuff.

‘You're a very attractive woman. Don't misunderstand me, but don't you think it's a bit odd this man choosing you, out of the whole island? It couldn't be he had another motive, besides being friendly on a holiday?'

‘No,' Judith said. ‘You're absolutely wrong. I know what you're getting at, and it's not true.'

Loder turned to Joseph. ‘Go and see you switched off all the gadgets, will you? We don't want anything burning.'

When the other man had gone out, Loder suddenly stood up. His expression was unpleasant.

‘You got very friendly, didn't you? You got well past the chummy stage. You spent every minute together. But he hadn't any ulterior motive. He just liked you, is that it? He didn't know who you worked for, you never discussed your job … he's going to try and contact you again, isn't he? Here in New York?'

‘Yes,' Judith said, ‘but not to recruit me; that's what you're trying to infer, isn't it?'

‘It's what I expect,' Loder answered. ‘It follows the pattern. That's why he went out there, to get hold of you.'

‘You're wrong.' She saw his mistake and she found the nerve to strike back at him. ‘He didn't go there to meet me. He was already there when I arrived, and I only arranged the trip at the last moment; forty-eight hours before. He couldn't possibly have gone to Barbados because of me. I didn't know I was going myself.'

‘All right, all right.' Loder agreed with her. ‘But they don't miss a trick, these boys. He met you, he found out who you were and he latched on. Did you sleep with him?'

‘How dare you ask me that!'

‘I'll ask you what I bloody well like.' Loder's voice was pitched low. ‘And it's not just Sam Nielson, is it? You work for one man in a confidential post and you're having it off with another. We know all about Group Captain Paterson. Did you tell your Russian boy friend about him too? For Christ's sake, you're a gift to them.'

He had come closer to her until he was standing directly in front of her and over her. Then he walked away and went back to his chair.

‘He'll get in touch with you again,' he said. ‘I'll make a bet on that. And when he does, Mrs. Farrow, you won't try and fuck about, you'll come direct to me and tell me. Do you understand that? Immediately. They've baited a big hook to catch you. That means there's something they want which must be within your capacity to give them.

‘I'm not saying you'd do it. I'm not suggesting anything like that. But they don't play according to the rules. It's surprising what you can make a woman do when you've got a hold on her. Like blackmail.'

‘Get out of here.' Judith got up. ‘Get out of this apartment. I'm going to Washington and complain to the Minister. You won't get away with this.'

‘The CIA will be the next,' Loder said. ‘If I can't persuade them that you're co-operating fully with us, they'll get their boys on your back. You'll lose your job with Nielson, that's for sure. And if you don't like me, believe me, Mrs. Farrow, you won't like the way the Yanks'll handle you. They've had enough of our people farting around with the Russians. And I don't blame them.'

He used the language deliberately; it was part of the technique. He wanted to insult her and frighten her, to show that he could say and do whatever he liked. Then he waited. She looked very upset, likely to cry if he pressed her too far. She was a pretty woman. He remembered his envious thoughts about Sverdlov. He
had
been having a nice time. Setting up a useful operative the pleasant way. He could see that the threat of the CIA had really worried her.

‘You should co-operate with us without all this being necessary,' he said. ‘You know how important security is; you've been here for two years, you're not a newcomer, all pink and white from England. One thing you must undertake. Cut out the liaison with Group Captain Paterson. We've kept that quiet from the Americans or they would be on to you like a ton of bricks. Drop him flat.'

‘I've already done so.' Judith had another cigarette and was trying to light it in spite of shaking hands. ‘That's over anyway, so you don't have to threaten me. That's why I went to Barbados if you want to know. I wish to God I'd stayed right here!'