Windfall

'I didn't know Pasternak when I was here but I knew him from Langley. We weren't really buddy-buddy in those days but we had a drink together from time to time. It's useful that he's here.'

'Where's Curtis?'

'He went downtown.' Hardin looked over Stafford's shoulder. 'Here's Pasternak now.'

Pasternak was a lean, rangy man with a closed look about his face. As they shook hands he said, 'Mike Pasternak. Good of you to see me, Mr Stafford.'

'It's no trouble,' he said. 'But I don't know that I can tell you much. I'm a security man and it's my job to keep secrets. Care for a drink?'

'I'll get them,' said Hardin. 'Beer, Mike?'

Pasternak nodded and Hardin went to the poolside bar. Pasternak said, 'Ben tells me you're interested in Pete Chipende.'

'That's right.' Stafford gestured. 'Let's sit.'

They sat face to face across a table and Pasternak looked at Stafford thoughtfully. 'I'd give a whole lot to know why you're running with Pete Chipende.'

'Didn't Ben tell you?'

'Yeah.' Pasternak smiled wryly. 'I didn't believe him. I'm hoping you'll tell me.'

'I'm afraid it's my business, Mr Pasternak.' said Stafford.

'I thought you'd take that attitude. I'm sorry. I hope you know what you're getting into.' Pasternak lit a cigarette. 'Ben tells me you're in the same line as Gunnarsson, but in Europe. He also told me you were in British army intelligence at one time.'

'That's correct. It's a matter of record. And you are CIA but you won't admit it outright.'

Pasternak smiled. 'Would you expect me to?' The smile faded. 'Now, here's a funny thing. Hendrix, a newly hatched millionaire, and Gunnarsson, ex-CIA, are in a party kidnapped into Tanzania. Along comes Stafford, again an ex-intelligence guy, and he chases after the kidnappers together with Chipende and Nair Singh. Then I see Ben, also ex-CIA. Don't you think it's strange, Mr Stafford?'

Stafford said, 'Do you know a man called Abercrombie-Smith from the British High Commission?'

Pasternak straightened. 'Don't tell me he's in on this? Whatever it is.'

'I had lunch with him. And now you are here. Perhaps we'd better hire the Kenyatta Conference Centre for a secret service congress,' Stafford said dryly. 'But what's jour interest in Chipende?'

Pasternak gave Stafford a strange look. 'Are you kidding?'

'I never kid about serious matters, Mr Pasternak. I really would like to know.'

'It seems as though I'm wasting my time after all,' he said. 'And probably wasting yours. Here's Ben with the beer. Let me put it on my expense account.'

'Don't bother,' Stafford said. 'Just tell me about Chipende.

Abercrombie-Smith wants to know, too. He tried to twist my arm this afternoon.'

'Successfully?'

'He got a flea in his ear.'

'I don't want to get the same treatment, Mr Stafford," said Pasternak. 'So just let's concentrate on the beer.'

Hardin came up with a tray which he placed on the table. They drank beer and chatted about inconsequential subjects such as the necessity for adjusting the carburettor of a car when driving from Mombasa at sea level to Eldoret which is at an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet. Hardin was baffled, as Stafford could see by the odd looks he received.

Pasternak drained his glass. 'I must be going,' he said, and stood up. 'Nice to have met you, Mr Stafford.'

'Come again,' said Stafford ironically.

He walked with Pasternak through the courtyard. Pasternak stopped by one of the aviaries and said, 'Have you noticed that there are no songbirds in Africa? They cheep and chirp but don't sing.' He paused. 'Do you mind if I give you some advice?'

Stafford smiled. 'Not at all. The great thing about advice is that you needn't follow it.'

'Watch Gunnarsson. I got a report on him this morning. That guy is bad news.'

'That's the most superfluous advice I've ever been given,' said Stafford chuckling. 'But thanks, anyway.' They shook hands and Pasternak went on his way.

Stafford turned to go to his room and met Hardin who said, 'Were you two talking in code or something? That meeting was supposed to be about Chip.'

'Ben, I know where I am now.' Stafford clapped him on the back. 'Bismarck was reputed to be silent in seven languages, but I'll bet his silence told more than his speeches. It was what Pasternak didn't say that interested me.'

'Nuts!' said Hardin disgustedly.

Chapter 21

Next morning after breakfast Stafford said to Hardin, 'Ben I'm tired of this pussyfooting around; we're going to do some pushing.'

'Who are you going to push?'

'We'll start with Chip. Sergeant?'

Curtis stiffened. 'Yes, sir.'

'You've been liaising with Chip. I want him in my room by ten o'clock.'

'Yes, sir.' Curtis pushed back his chair from the breakfast table and left the room.

Hardin said, 'Why Chip? He's on our side.'

'Is he?' Stafford shook his head. 'Pete Chipende is on no side other than his own. What's more, he has Corliss hidden somewhere and that gives him leverage should he want to use it. You uncovered Corliss but Chip has got him and I don't like that one little bit.'