Chapter 9 unwanted spy

Rand felt uneasy whenever Hastings came over for dinner.Since his retirement as director of the Covert Communications Service, he had found himself coaxed by his former boss to return to the service, a request he could not refuse.Usually, it's at the dinner table in Rand's and his wife Layla's country home that he makes his request. "No business tonight," Rand warned one January night as he poured his drink. "I hope you're not coming from afar, not for your new case." Hastings smiled, "Of course not. It's just a simple social visit to see how you two are doing. After all, I haven't seen you since the incident in Reading last September. Holiday Are you having a good time?"

"It's peaceful," Rand admitted. "When a person retires, he needs to build a new circle of friends." "The old friend still misses you. Parkinson ran the Secret Communications Bureau very well. He also asked me to say hello to you." "Parkinson, he's a nice guy." Leila cooked a unique roast beef meal, and even Hastings was full of praise: "It's so delicious, my dear! Only your beauty can surpass your cooking skills." Leila glanced at Rand aside. "He has something to ask for." She said with a smile. Rand wiped his mouth with a napkin and refilled them with wine, "Yes, Hastings, stop pretending, it's time to tell us? You can say that this is just a social visit , but Layla knows you're not here just for that."

"And I won't let you take Jeffrey away from me again!" she said firmly. Hastings suddenly became serious. "I'm not here for Geoffrey, Layla. For him, my visit is purely social, as I said. What we need is You, my dear lady." "Me?" Leila stared at him blankly, "Why?" "Because you are brave, beautiful, and wise. And you are an ancient Egyptologist." Leila has been teaching Archeology at the University of Reading.Rand is always pleased whenever she is recognized by others in the field.But he still didn't want her to be involved in what was going on in Hastings' head. "She can write you a dissertation on the subject," he said. "Is that satisfactory to you?"

Hastings just smiled.He has extensive experience dealing with Rand. "We need her to go to New York. It's important." "New York! Why New York?" "Actually, it's for another department. They need a female Egyptologist to meet some suspicious people in New York. Of course, Leila was kidnapped in the last plot to steal Pharaoh Tut's treasure. This When the word got around, she became famous, naturally. We knew from past experience that she could take care of herself, Layla, and you are the perfect choice for us for this assignment." "But—what do you want me to do?"

"These guys are selling some Egyptian artefacts in New York that we presume are from a recently discovered tomb on the banks of the Nile, smuggled out of the country and sold to museums. It's surprising how many prestigious institutions are willing to acquire them this way artwork." After listening to him, Leila shook her head, "I'm afraid I don't see what this has to do with me." Hastings smiled like a kind uncle. "Before you moved to England and married Rand, you worked at the Cairo Museum, didn't you?" "When I was teaching at Cairo University, I worked there," Layla frowned, concentrating on the conversation. "That's why those who kidnapped me were convinced that I could identify artifacts from Pharaoh Tut."

"We need you for the same reason. We think that the artifacts that these people in New York are trying to sell are stolen from the Cairo museum." "Is that possible?" Rand asked her. "Anything is possible, I think, but there are no reports of cultural relics being stolen in the newspapers." "We thought it might have been swapped with a replica," replied Hastings, "I've heard that's possible in the Cairo Museum." Layla readily agrees, "There's a lot in need of repairs. The last time I was there, pigeons could fly in through the broken skylight. Many of the exhibits are displayed in dark, chaotic corridors—often without labels. Lighting in some places The conditions are particularly poor, and it is very possible that the imitation and fine replicas have not been detected."

"So you're going to do us this favor?" She spread her hands helplessly, "I've never been to New York. And in the middle of this month, the new semester of university will start." "You can come back before school starts. If not, we will explain the situation to the school. As for you, you have never been to New York. I seem to remember that you did a great job when you went to Moscow for the first time last year." "What does she need to do?" Rand asked. "Just pretend to be a buyer representing a British museum with an interest in artefacts. Examine the artefacts and tell us if you've seen them in the Cairo museum. The New York police will do the rest."

"Sounds easy," Layla said to Rand. "I'll go too," he decided. "No," said Hastings, "you're too famous. You'll reveal yourself." In this way, after a short discussion, Hastings let Layla take on a secret mission and boarded the plane to New York.It wasn't until she was over the Atlantic that Rand began to wonder why British intelligence was so interested in a possible theft from an Egyptian museum. But it was too late to stop her now. Leila Land stepped off the plane at JFK Airport and rushed through customs.By the time she arrived at the Manhattan Hotel where she was staying, she had fallen in love with the city and was amazed by the afternoon sun shining on the glass facade of the building.My only regret is that Geoffrey was not able to share this with her peers. "I'm only a phone call away from you," he said. "You can dial our home number directly from New York."

His words added confidence to her journey alone this time.But she felt a little hasty in agreeing to Hastings' request, and reconsidered.The plan he described was very simple.As soon as she got to her hotel room, a man named Grazer would call and give her an address.Once there, she examines the artifacts for sale and reports to Gray whether they are from the Cairo Museum. She called room service and calculated that it was almost ten o'clock in the UK at this time.Just then, someone knocked on her door. "Who is it?" she asked. "Gregor," a man's voice answered.

She opened the door and let in a muscular, disheveled man.He was wearing a tweed jacket and was carrying a suitcase. "You should have called," she reminded. The man named Gregor just smiled. "Yes, but there are some minor changes in the plan. You go to see a Mr. Changdo at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, and give him this envelope." He took out a manila paper envelope sealed with wide tape from the suitcase , "This is a catalog of the collections of Egyptology in the Cambridge Museum, and there is also a document that the curator authorized you to purchase as an agent. Here is another copy for you, take a look first and get familiar with it."

"Is this person named Chang Duo selling cultural relics?" "Yes. He's a sub-officer at the Egyptian consulate here. We think the artwork was brought in in a diplomatic bag. He has a store on Upper Madison Avenue, you meet him there. After nine o'clock , call this number to make an appointment.” "OK." Gray seemed to realize the abruptness of his visit.As he turned to leave, he said, "I hope you have a good trip when you come." "Everything went well, thank you." "Good luck. I'll call here tomorrow afternoon for your report." With that, he left, buttoning his coat as he walked down the corridor toward the elevator. Layla was exhausted from the long flight, and thinking of Jeffrey at home, she gradually fell asleep and had a dreamless night. Still jet-lagged, she woke up early and had breakfast in her room.Before nine o'clock, she was showered, dressed, and ready to go.But she waited another fifteen minutes before dialing Changduo's phone number that Geri had given her. "Can I talk to Mr. Chang Duo?" She asked the man who answered the phone. The voice sounded very young, and the accent was recognizable as American. She knew it was not Chang Duo. "Wait a minute," he replied. The line was momentarily cut, and then another voice rang out, presumably redirected to an inner office. "Mr. Changdo?" "Are you Layla Land?" "Yes. I'm calling to make an appointment to see all the Egyptian art you have for sale." "Where do you represent, Miss Rand?" "Egyptology, Cambridge Museum. I teach at Cairo University." "I see. Can you come this morning?" "I can be there by ten. I have a catalog of our collections, and a letter from our director." "This is a great help," Chang said. "I'll see you at ten." Layla picked up the envelope Grey handed her and went downstairs to hail a taxi.In less than ten minutes, she was on Madison Avenue.She spent half an hour shopping around there until ten o'clock.This is a small gallery located between 75th and 76th streets.Before entering, she examined a painting hanging in the window.It was a watercolor of a mosque in Alexandria, and she couldn't help wondering if it was a hint. Inside, a slender young man in a gray suit stepped forward. "Is there anything I can do to help you?" he asked.She recognized that it was the voice on the phone. "I'm Leila Gade. I'm here to see Mr. Changdo." He smiled and held out his hand. "Ron Janus. I run the gallery for Mr. Changdo. You know, the consulate takes up a lot of his time. This way, please." He led her into an outside office, and Layla handed him the envelope. "This is for Mr. Chang Duo. Our catalogue." "Okay," he put it on the table, "Mr. Chang Duo is talking on the phone, it will be fine in a while." He relaxed and lit a cigarette, "How are you doing in our city?" "I can't tell yet. I only arrived yesterday afternoon. But it's much colder here than in England." "But it's not that humid. It's said that it will get warmer tomorrow." He gesticulated with a cigarette between his fingers.It reminded her of a stilted English actor she had seen at a party once. "There's a Hyde Parker painting on the wall behind you. Reminds you of where you came from." She glanced at the watercolor, which was in the same style as the one in the window. "I'm actually from Egypt," she explained. "I moved to England after I got married, but my mother is British. Is this by the same artist as the one in the window?" Ron Janus laughed. "Actually, Chang Duo painted both. See the signature in the corner? He's really good." "I didn't know he could draw." "You can talk to him about it. Now he's hung up." Janus picked up her envelope and led her into the inner office.Mr. Chang Duo was a small man with dark, wrinkled skin and older than she expected.He stood up and held out his hand. "How good to see you, Miss Land. Or ma'am?" "I'm married," she said succinctly. "A lucky man." Janus handed him the envelope and left. "What is this—a catalog you speak of?" She nodded, "There is also a letter of introduction from our curator." "For a lady who is knowledgeable about Egyptian antiquities, you are too young and charming." She saw him undo the clasp with his fingers and lift the flap of the envelope. "Egypt is my homeland," she explained, "I grew up in—" The words froze in her mouth.She saw him pull a cardboard card out of the envelope, something snapped like a mousetrap, Mr Chando disappeared in a flash of fire, and a loud bang made her fall backwards and fall out. "No broken bones," the emergency room doctor said after examining her in less than an hour. "You're a lucky girl. We'll take care of these wounds. You'll feel some pain in a few days." Pain, but nothing serious." "Thanks, doctor," she said, trying to adjust her right leg on the examination table to ease some of the pain. "There's a detective outside waiting to see you." "I'm not surprised at all. I think I'd better meet him." The detective was a friendly middle-aged man named Philly. "Captain George Filley, ma'am. I'm investigating the bombing." "Chang Duo died?" "I'm afraid so. The bomb wasn't very powerful, but it was deadly at such a short distance. It was a plastic blast panel that was triggered by a mousetrap device when the envelope was opened. Letter bombs, A common method used by common terrorists." "I thought it contained museum catalogues," she snapped. The detective showed a reassuring smile, "If you knew that there was a bomb in the envelope, obviously, you would not stay in that room. Even if you were sitting ten meters away, you could be killed or seriously injured .” "I still can't believe it," Layla said. "That envelope was next to my bed when I went to bed last night." "Who gave it to you?" She knew that her situation was not good.So she replied carefully: "A man named Gregor. He's the New York representative for the museum that employs me." "Where can we find him?" "I have no idea." "Can you describe his physical features?" "Hey, about forty, black hair, glasses. Nothing special, just a little disheveled." "Do you know why he wanted to kill Changduo?" "no idea." "What business are you and Mr. Chang Duo doing?" "I—purchased Egyptian antiquities for a British museum." Fili still had a smile on his face when he asked the next question, "Although I don't know much about it, isn't exporting antiquities a violation of Egyptian law?" "Of course that doesn't count. You can't suspect an Egyptian consulate employee of any illegal activity!" The smile fades away, "Ma'am, this man was blown to pieces. That's where the violations start. I see consular officers and UN employees engage in violations every day. Many of them park illegally, for example. If you You'd better think twice about keeping something from me. You survived the explosion, but you're still in big trouble unless you hand over this mysterious Grezer." "You mean I'm under arrest?" Leila asked. "I mean you might be taken into custody as a material witness." "Can I make a phone call?" "To your lawyer? Sure." "Not to the lawyer, but to my husband. He's in England." It was a gloomy afternoon in London in January, which suited Rand's mood.He strode into Hastings' office, throwing a single word in greeting to the secretaries and other staff who had been his colleagues. "Hello, Rand," Hastings said, rising to meet him, "you sounded worried on the phone." "I have reason to be concerned. By this time, Layla may be in a New York jail." "No, no—that's not going to happen. I'm afraid her phone call has upset you unnecessarily. I've checked with our people over there." "Who? The Grezer who gave her the letter bomb? What the hell did you get her into?" Hastings held up his hands, as if expecting Rand to hit him. "My God, Rand, you know me, you know I won't! You think I got Layla involved in an assassination plot." "All I know is what happened. The more I think about it, the more unreliable your original story is. British intelligence won't help other services—unless it's your area of ​​responsibility. You sent Layla to New York What's the real reason?" "It's about the same as what I said before." Hastings defended himself. "Almost, but not exactly the same." The older man sighed. "You know how things work at the Bureau, Rand. You've been here a long time yourself. An agent knows only what he or she needs to know to do the job." "Need to know. My wife doesn't need to know she's carrying a letter bomb that could kill or maim her!" "I swear to you, Rand, I don't know anything about the bomb!" "Then what do you know?" "What I told you was highly classified. You're no longer a member of the Intelligence Service, so you didn't—" "Tell me!" Rand ordered. "Well, this is a joint operation with the United States. You must know that this endless Middle East peace talks have been receiving a lot of attention, and many intelligence groups are trying to sabotage it. There are still some people in the Egyptian government who are opposed to a ceasefire with Israel negotiated a peace, and has taken action to try to stop it. Changdo is one of them." "He is employed by Russia?" "More likely employed by some of the more belligerent Arab countries." "So you decided to kill him." "No, no! You don't understand, Rand. We really haven't changed the old way of doing things, and neither have our American friends." "I can bet!" Hastings chuckled, "You sound like them now. We wanted to get rid of Changdo, but not kill him. We noticed that he might be involved in several museum thefts, as I told Layla's. We need her to pose as the buyer and verify that the items are indeed from the Cairo Museum. Then we plan to get rid of him - get him arrested in the United States, or notify the Egyptian police and extradite him to stand trial. Whichever method is used Either way, we could have taken him out. I'm just hiding our true motives for being interested in Changdo. It was an espionage operation from beginning to end." "Who is this Gray who handed the letter bomb to Layla?" "Well," admitted Hastings, "there's a problem. Gray isn't alone, exactly." "Not alone! Do you think he was imagined by Layla? Tell her yourself that he will contact her." "Of course he wasn't a figment of Layla's imagination! I mean Gray was between the Allies, a code name for espionage operations. The man who went to meet your wife under the name of Gray was probably six people operating in the New York area. any one of the agents." "She must be able to recognize his picture!" "That's one of the problems. This kind of handing over pictures of six people threatens national security. Then Leila, and possibly the police, would know the identities of all the members of our New York branch." "What's the difference? You said just now that the United States is an ally. You certainly won't spy on them!" "We are protecting British interests." Hastings replied with some annoyance. "And I'm protecting Layla's interests. I'm going to New York on the next Concorde!" "That's impossible, Rand! You're not needed there." "My wife needs me." "Calm down, okay? We're trying to get in touch with our folks in New York, and the American side, to find out who sanctioned this murder. At least until we get more information on the whole thing. " "I'll wait, but I'll be right here—in your office. We can have them bring dinner in." Hastings glanced at the clock disapprovingly. "It's not one o'clock in the United States. Changdo was killed in less than three hours. We'll have to wait a long time." "We'll wait all night if necessary," Rand replied coldly. Just after eleven, Layla called Rand from the hospital.It was half past one, and she was hurrying back to her hotel, accompanied by a grim-looking detective named Burke.Captain Fili agreed to her request and allowed her to change the blood-stained and tattered clothes before returning to the police station for interrogation.However, Bok beside her reminds her all the time that she has lost her freedom.Obviously, Captain Fili had no intention of releasing her until she revealed the truth of the incident, or that Gray was indeed imprisoned. "I'll wait here," Inspector Bock told her when they reached the door of her room, "be quick." After entering the room, Leila looked at herself in the mirror for the first time.The wound on the forehead and neck was wrapped in bandages, and a larger one was wrapped around the forearm.Her favorite green wool dress was torn and bloodstained.Seeing the blood, she recalled the scene in the office—Chang Duo unfastened the buckle, opened the envelope, and pulled out the cardboard.Then came the broken mousetrap fuse and the flare of the explosion.She thinks this memory will linger for the rest of her life. Just as she was about to take off her green wool dress, the man named Gregor came out of the bathroom, pointing a pistol with a suppressor at her chest. "Okay." Hastings hung up the phone with the scrambler installed, and ended the transatlantic call, "At least we have some news now. Neither we nor the United States ordered Changduo to be killed. It was Gray He did it on his own initiative.” "How is that possible?" Rand wondered. "Rand, you've been in this business long enough to know that we're occasionally tricked by some sleazy spies. It's impossible for us to control everyone on our payroll, especially in a transnational operation like this." "Okay. How's Gray doing?" "We narrowed it down to two people. One was assigned to meet with Layla, but he was on sick leave, and they felt like a second person took over from him." "It's so convenient." "Seems like that, doesn't it? Anyway, the two Grays haven't been seen since this morning. If he knew we were after him, he'd be hiding." "Layla could recognize him. She could be in danger." "I believe the police will not let her out of their sight. They have too many questions to ask her, and if they know that there is a lot of international attention on Changdo, they will ask even more questions." "I still think I should go find her." "It's over before you get to New York, even if you take the Concorde. Our people can track down the real Gray in a few hours." "Or a fake Grezer." "Yes." It was getting dark outside, and Hastings sat on the chair and turned around, overlooking the river outside the window.Rand wondered if he could see anything but their pale, troubled faces reflected in the windowpane. Layla Rand stood motionless, staring at the pistol with the weird black suppressor. "You said you'd call," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm searching your room," Gray said, "who knew you came back suddenly." "Search? Why?" "Don't play dumb!" "Listen, there's a policeman standing outside the door. If I yell, he'll come in right away." "Then you are dead." "I'll take a gamble." Gray raised his pistol slightly, "I don't have time to play games. Who hired you?" "I thought we were on the same side until a few hours ago." "What happened in the gallery—" He was interrupted by a knock on the door.Detective Burke was getting impatient.Or he heard their conversation. "Open the door!" Gray ordered, striding to the back of the door. Layla did as he was told.Opening the door, she saw Sergeant Bock's face and Gray's raised pistol, and she acted. She pulled the door open so hard that the handle hit Grezer's stomach.He gasped as the pistol rang near her head, sending bullets flying across the room.Bock pulled out his guard revolver.They fought hand-to-hand, wrestling until the detective freed a hand and thumped the butt of his gun on Gretzer.Bock backed away, and Gray collapsed on the floor. "Don't play tricks," he warned Layla, "I thought I heard voices." "Trick! I'm helping you! He gave me the letter bomb!" Bock went to the phone and dialed the operator. "Room 532 calls for police support," he said gruffly. "Can I change now?" she asked. Gray couldn't move on the floor.Bock glanced at the bathroom, presumably to make sure no one was hiding in it. "Go, but hurry up." When she took off her clothes, she once again thought of the scene when Chang Duo died, and suddenly realized that she had made a big mistake. "I have to see Captain Felix right away," she said to Bock as she came out of the bathroom. "When someone comes and takes this friend from our floor, I'll take you there." Layla waited another hour before seeing George Filley again.Still smiling when he greeted her, he led her into a small room in the police office. "Bock said you were anxious to see me." "Yes. They arrested Grezer." "The man in your hotel room," Philly nodded, "you did a great job, Mrs. Land." "Don't you understand? You are mistaken! Gray is innocent!" The smile on Fili's face slowly turned into a frown. "He's the one who handed you the letter bomb, right? He's the one who threatened you with a gun in your hotel room, right?" "He was searching my room for explosives and detonators. Don't you understand—he thought I made the letter bomb and killed Changdo!" She was annoyed at herself, looking for the right words, "He thought I was trying to put the murder on him." "How do you know Gray didn't do it?" Philly asked. "The envelope he handed me had a wide piece of tape on the seal. But before the bomb went off, I watched Changdo open the envelope. He unfastened the clasp and lifted the seal. If there was tape on it, he was Impossible to do that." "what do you mean--?" "Not that envelope! It was dropped!" "By whom?" "The only one who could do that was Ron Janus, the gallery manager. The envelope had been on his desk, and he drew my attention to a painting hanging on the wall behind me. While I turned my head When he went, he changed the envelope. I told Changduo on the phone that I would bring a copy of the exhibition catalog. At that time, Janus must have been eavesdropping, thinking that this was a way to kill Changduo and blame the crime on Great opportunity for the man. He could have easily guessed that the catalog came in a standard sized zip-on envelope. As for the tape, it's a small detail that doesn't matter. Even if I noticed at the last minute that the envelope had been swapped, I would They were killed together, that's probably what he thought." "What if your envelope is pink or green? What if you didn't put the catalog in the envelope?" "Then, he'll just leave that letter bomb on his desk and wait for other good times." "You know a lot, so what's his motive?" "Changdo smuggled art loot from Egypt in diplomatic pouches. I guess Janus wanted to monopolize the sale. This case was sparked by thieves fighting among themselves." Captain Fili immediately launched into action.He walked to the door of his small office and called out, "Bock, get the car up ahead. Let's go to the gallery and talk to Ron Janus." It was nearly midnight when the phone on Hastings' desk rang.As soon as the scrambler was turned on, Rand knew it was an overseas call.Hastings listened intently, giving only monosyllabic responses.He finally hung up the phone and looked at Rand. "She's fine. And in the end, both of us Gretzer agents were found innocent." Rand felt dry mouthed, "What's going on?" "It appears that one of Changduo's partners switched the envelope and killed him. He was moving the loot from the basement of the building when the police returned to the art gallery to question him." "Where's Leila?" "I said she's fine. In fact, she solved the case. She'll be flying back tomorrow." Rand let out a long sigh of relief, "I don't think I'm needed anymore." "It's Layla that's needed. Fuck it, Rand, we can get her a job in—" "No!" Rand cried, ending their conversation.