This Drakotny_A Gripping Spy Thriller
Page 23
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“No anaesthetic this time,” I told Max. “It was lethal: Coniine. It comes from the common spotted hemlock. Old and dishonourable history of usage. Anyway, it would have done for Drakotny. There would have been a blocking of neuromuscular transmission, very rapid, first of the legs, then the rest of the body. After that, he would have stopped breathing.”
“Erudite, aren’t you,” Max murmured. “Who told you all that?”
“Fierlinger,” I said, “before he died. He was quite a boastful little man. As a matter of fact, he’d taken the precaution of secreting a capsule in his mouth. Same poison. He crunched it while he was telling me the symptoms, so I was able to see just how right he was a few minutes later.”
Max grimaced. “No need to gloat,” he said.
“I’m not,” I told him. My voice sounded dead even to me. “By God, I’m not. I’ve done my job successfully, but I’m damned if I like looking at myself in the mirror any more. Fierlinger was a bloody patriot really. Oh, all’s well in the Czechoslovak State now Racilek’s back, but how long is it going to last, with Drakotny still alive and kicking?”
Max said, “Don’t bother your head about it, old man. Forget it! It’s a job over, that’s the way to look at it. And well accomplished too, with the minimum of diplomatic fuss and bother, and —”
“No aggro?”
Max looked down his nose. “No aggro. I gather the others are all right?”
I nodded. “I hope so. I tried my best. I have Racilek’s promise that the Frumms will be okay. I believe he’ll keep it as long as he’s able to. That ability may not survive the eventual unearthing of Heilersetz’s briefcase.”
“Too bad,” Max said sympathetically. “This Bassett?”
“This Bassett,” I said, “should be back in Haltwhistle, or wherever it was, by now, hoping he won’t have a nightmare and yap to his old woman about a night on the tiles in the Prague brothels. I guess we’d better all hope he doesn’t do that. What a bloody mess it all is,” I added witheringly, “and how we use innocent people! You know something?”
“No, what?” Max grinned at me, guessing, I think, what was coming.
“You’re a bastard. So’s Lattenbury. And I bet you both went to church on Christmas Day and mumbled about peace and goodwill!”
Max only grinned again. He was used to being told things like that when I came back from a job. He said mildly, “So did you, fortunately.” I left it at that and banged out of his office. Nada Strecka and the old lady were waiting in reception, and I needed a drink, partly because of them. Racilek and Drakotny, prodded by me, had decided the best thing to do was to eject them to the West. I was delighted they were safe and I still had a lot of time for that girl, but I did wonder how in hell I was going to cope with them both.
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