Oh, Daddy; Im so glad! She scrambled off the bed and went to her bag. Look what it says in here. I had to get a new passport, anyway. She opened the passport and displayed it Occupation teacher! she said proudly.
He looked up. Was it a good degree?
He looked up. Was it a good degree?
She made a wry face. Middling-good. There was no smile on her face now. I suppose you think a Meyrick should have passed with honours.
Mentally he damned Meyrick who, apparently, set a superhuman standard. This girl was set on a hair trigger and his slightest word could cause an explosion in which somebody would get hurt probably Lyn. Im very glad youve got your degree, he said evenly. Where are you going to teach?
The tension eased from her and she lay on the bed again. First I need experience, she said seriously. General experience. Then I want to specialize. After that, if Im going to have a lot of money I might as well put it to use.
How?
Ill have to know more about what Im doing before I can tell you that.
Denison wondered how this youthful idealism would stand up to the battering of the world. Still, a lot could be done with enthusiasm and money. He smiled, and said, You seem to have settled on a lifetime plan. Is there room in the programme for marriage and a family?
Of course; but hell have to be the right man hell have to want what I want. She shrugged. So far no one like that has come my way. The men at university could be divided into two classes; the stodges who are happy with the present system, and the idealists who arent. The stodges are already working out their retirement pensions before they get a job and the idealists are so damned naive and impractical. Neither of them suit me.
Someone will come along who will, predicted Denison.
How can you be so sure?
He laughed. How do you suppose the population explosion came about? Men and women usually get together somehow. Its in the nature of the animal.
She put out her cigarette and lay back and closed her eyes. Im prepared to wait.
My guess is that you wont have to wait long. She did not respond and he regarded her intently. She had fallen asleep as readily as a puppy might, which was not surprising considering she had been up all night. So had he, but sleep was the last thing he could afford.
He put on his jacket and took the keys from the zippered compartment of her bag. In the lobby he saw two suitcases standing before the desk and, after checking to make sure they were Lyns, he said to the porter, Id like these taken to my daughters room. Whats the number?
Did she have a reservation, Mr Meyrick?
Its possible.
The porter checked and took down a key. Room four-thirty. Ill take the bags up.
In Lyns room Denison tipped the porter and put the two cases on the bed as soon as the door closed. He took out the keys and unlocked them and searched them quickly, trying not to disturb the contents too much. There was little that was of value to him directly, but there were one or two items which cast a light on Lyn Meyrick. There was a photograph of himself or, rather, of Harry Meyrick in a leather case. The opposing frame was empty. In a corner of one suitcase was a small Teddy-bear, tattered with much childish loving and presumably retained as a mascot. In the other suitcase he found two textbooks, one on the theory and practice of teaching, the other on child psychology; both heavyweights, the pages sprinkled with diagrams and graphs.
He closed and locked the suitcases and put them on the rack, then went down to his own room. As the lift door opened on to the third floor he saw Armstrong just stepping out of the other lift. Armstrong held out an envelope. Mr Carey told me to give you this.
Denison ripped open the envelope and scanned the sparse typescript on the single sheet. The only thing it told him that he had not learned already was that Lyn Meyricks sport was gymnastics. Carey will have to do better than this, he said curtly.
Were doing the best we can, said Armstrong. Well get more later in the day when people have woken up in England.
Keep it coming, said Denison. And dont forget to remind Carey that Im still waiting for an explanation.
Ill tell him, said Armstrong.
Another thing, said Denison. She said shed find me either here in Oslo or in Helsinki in Finland. That baffled me until I realized I dont know a bloody thing about Meyrick. Carey mentioned a dossier on Meyrick I want to see it.
I dont think that will be possible, said Armstrong hesitantly. Youre not cleared for security.
Denison speared him with a cold eye. You bloody fool! he said quietly. Right now I am your security and dont forget to tell Carey that, too. He walked past Armstrong and up the corridor to his room.
Twelve
Carey walked past the Oslo City Hall in the warm midafternoon sunshine and inspected the statuary with a sardonic eye. Each figure represented a different trade and the whole, no doubt, was supposed to represent the Dignity of Labour. He concluded that the Oslo City Fathers must have been socialist at one time.
He sat on a bench and looked out over the harbour and Oslofjord. A ship slid quietly by the ferry bound for Copenhagen and there was a constant coming and going of smaller, local ferries bound for Bygdøy, Ingierstrand and other places on the fjord. Camera-hung tourists strolled by and a tour bus stopped, disgorging more of them.
McCready walked up and sat on the bench. Carey did not look at him but said dreamily, Once my job was easy just simple eyeball stuff. That was back in the days when Joshua sent his spies into the land of Caanan. Then the bloody scientists got busy and ballsed the whole thing up.
McCready said nothing; he had encountered Carey in this mood before and knew there was nothing to do but wait until Carey got it off his chest.
Do you realize the state weve got ourselves into now? asked Carey rhetorically. I think youre George McCready, but I could be wrong. Whats more, you could think youre George McCready and, if Harding is to be believed, still be wrong. How the hell am I supposed to cope with a situation like that?
He disregarded McCreadys opening mouth. The bloody boffins are lousing up the whole damned world, he said violently, and pointed towards the line of statuary. Look at that crowd of working stiffs. Theres not a trade represented there that isnt obsolete or obsolescent. Pretty soon theyll put up a statue of me; therell be a plaque saying Intelligence agent, Mark II and my jobll be farmed out to a hot-shot computer. Wheres Denison?
Asleep in the hotel.
And the girl?
Also asleep in her own room.
If hes had five minutes sleep thats five minutes more than Ive had. Lets go and wake the poor bastard up. Mrs Hansen will join us at the hotel.
He stood up, and McCready said, How much are you going to tell him?
As much as I have to and no more, said Carey shortly. Which may be more than I want to tell him. Hes already putting the screws on me through young Ian. He wants to see Meyricks dossier.
You cant expect him to carry out an impersonation without knowing something of Meyrick, said McCready reasonably.
Why did that damned girl have to turn up? grumbled Carey. As though we dont have enough trouble. I had a row with Harding this morning.
Im not surprised.
George I have no option. With Meyrick gone I have to use Denison. Ill play fair; Ill tell him the truth maybe not all of it, but what I tell him will be true and let him make up his own mind. And if he wants out thats my hard luck.
McCready noticed the reservation and shook his head. The truth, in Careys hands, could take on a chameleon-like quality. Denison did not stand a chance.
Carey said, Something Iredale told me gave me the shudders. This silicone stuff that was rammed into Denisons face is a polymer; its injected in liquid form and then it hardens in the tissues to the consistency of fat and its permanent. If Denison wants to get his own face back it will be a major surgical operation theyll have to take his face apart to scrape the stuff out.
McCready grimaced. I take it thats a part of the truth youre not going to tell him.
That and a few other titbits from Harding. Carey stopped. Well, heres the hotel. Lets get it over with.
Denison woke from a deep sleep to hear hammering on his door. He got up groggily, put on the bathrobe, and opened the door. Carey said, Sorry to waken you, but its about time we had a talk.
Denison blinked at him. Come in. He turned and went into the bathroom, and Carey, McCready and Mrs Hansen walked through into the bedroom. When Denison reappeared he was wiping his face with a towel. He stared at Diana Hansen. I might have known.
You two know each other, said Carey. Mrs Hansen was keeping tabs on Meyrick. He drew back the curtain, letting sunlight spill into the room, and tossed an envelope on to the dressing-table. Some more stuff on the girl. We have quite a few people in England running about in circles on your behalf.
Not mine, corrected Denison. Yours! He put down the towel. Any moment from now shes going to start playing Do you remember when? No information you can give me will help in that sort of guessing game.
Youll just have to develop a bad memory, said McCready.
I need to know more about Meyrick, insisted Denison.
And Im here to tell you. Carey pulled the armchair forward. Sit down and get comfortable. This is going to take a while. He sat in the other chair and pulled out a stubby pipe which he started to fill. McCready and Diana Hansen sat on the spare bed.
Carey struck a match and puffed at his pipe. Before we start on Meyrick you ought to know that we discovered how, and when, the switch was made. We figured how wed do a thing like that ourselves and then checked on it. You were brought in on a stretcher on July 8 and put in room three-sixty-three, just across the corridor. Meyrick was probably knocked out by a Mickey Finn in his nightly Ovaltine or something like that, and the switch was made in the wee, small hours.
Meyrick was taken out next morning before you woke up, said McCready. He was put into an ambulance, the hotel management co-operating, and driven to Pier Two at Vippetangen where he was put aboard a ship sailing to Copenhagen. Another ambulance was waiting there which took him God knows where.