"Archer, Geoffrey - The Burma Legacy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Archer Geoffrey)

Comments from his former mates. Adds a little colour."
"I'd like to see it."
He handed her the printout. "Basically it says he was never happier than
sleeping in a ditch. Had a reputation for putting up with any amount of shit
and terror so long as there was a good piss-up and a willing woman at the
end of it. But a little out of his depth in the real world. And not used to
handling big sums of money."
"Times have changed, then." She frowned down at the sheet of paper.
"What's all this about him being fascinated by military history? World War
Two in particular."
"Simply that his views on national characteristics are pretty much formed
by the past. All Germans are Nazis . . . Japs are torturers. That sort of stuff.
Half the UK population thinks that way."
"And the people who use his smack are cockroaches, I suppose . . ."
"Yeah." Once again her bitterness flagged some personal motive in her
quest to nail the man. "Don't worry. You'll get another crack at him."
"Unless he gets his crack in first." Her face was pale and drawn. "I have to
be honest, Steve. He's got me scared, him and Hu Sin."
Sam wanted to give her a big hug and tell her it'd be okay, but feared she
might sink her teeth into his neck. She handed the email back to him.
"Tell you what," he suggested, "why don't we find some cosy bar where
they do food, and forget all about it for the night. It's New Year's Eve."
"I don't want to go anywhere. Just for tonight I've lost my nerve."
"Then let's get some booze and a takeaway and we'll eat here in my
room."
She agreed to that and he took himself off to a nearby shopping mall to
get in supplies. On his way he paused by an international call centre,
thinking of ringing Julie. Then he remembered Bangkok was seven hours
ahead of London. She'd be at work. Better to wait until after midnight his
time and try to catch her at home before she went out.
Three quarters of an hour later he and Midge started on the first bottle of
Australian Chardonnay, with CNN's world coverage of the Millennium
celebrations flickering on the TV in the corner. Midge ignored it. She was
fidgeting.
"You asked why Hu Sin knew me," she said eventually, thrusting fingers
through her hair, then clenching them as if trying to tear the stuff out by its
roots. "I'll tell you why. I got photographed a few weeks ago. Walking into
a government building in Bangkok. There was a Narcotics Bureau seminar
going on. Meant to be covert, but somebody found out about it. The
cameraman rode off on a motorbike." She let out a long sigh. "And here
comes the confession. I didn't take it seriously enough. Should have
changed my appearance afterwards. I've even kept the same bloody hair
colour, Steve. Talk about unprofessional. They'll string me up when I get
home."
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Been there, done
that." He told her how he'd been snapped by a newspaper photographer in
London a year ago and identified in the press as an MI6 agent. "It's why I'm
here. Sent to Singapore in the hope my face wouldn't be so familiar."
"Thanks," she said. "I guess we all blow it sometime or other."
They looked at one another across the table and knew what they had to