Free Our Game by John le Carré Page A

Russian dinosaurs ... insist on a proper respect for small nations ... renounce our love of large political groupings and give more thought to individual minorities ..." I was quoting Larry word for word—the Pettifer Sunday sermons. Like Larry, I could have gone on all day. "Care about the detail. The humanity, which was what we fought the Cold War for in the first place."
    "Did we?"
    "He did."
    "And Checheyev influenced him in this, obviously.”
    “Obviously."
    Her eyes had scarcely left mine all this time. Now they flashed accusingly. "And did you share this view—you personally?"
    "Checheyev's view?"
    "This perception of our Western duty."
    No, I bloody well didn't, I thought. It was Larry at his worst, stirring up a storm because he was bored. But I didn't say that. "I was a professional, Marjorie. I didn't have the time to share views or reject them. I believed whatever was necessary to the job at the time."
    But I had the feeling, as she continued watching me, that she was listening less to my words than to things I hadn't said.
    "Anyway, we heard him," she said, as if that absolved us of blame.
    "Oh, we heard him, all right. Our analysts heard him. The Foreign Office's expert on Southern Russia heard him. But it wasn't a success."
    "Why not?"
    "They told him there was no British interest in the area. We'd told him much the same ourselves, but when he heard it from the horse's mouth he lost his temper. He quoted a Mingrelian proverb at them. 'Why do you want light if you're blind?' "
    "Did you know Checheyev retired from his service with full honours two years ago?"
    "Of course."
    "Why of course?"
    "It was happening by the time we stood Larry down.
    Checheyev's departure was a contributing factor to the Top Floor's decision to wrap up the Pettifer operation."
    "Had Checheyev been offered another posting?"
    "According to him, no. He was resigning."
    "Where was he going? According to him."
    "Home. He wanted his mountain back. He was tired of being an intellectual and wanted to go back to his tribal roots."
    "Or that was his story."
    "It's what he told Larry, which is slightly different."
    "Why?"
    "They liked to think they had a relationship of trust.
    Checheyev never lied to him. Or so he said, and Larry believed him."
    "Did you?"
    "Lie to Larry?"
    "Believe Checheyev."
    "We never caught him out."
    Marjorie Pew placed the thumb and forefinger of her right hand to the bridge of her nose, as if adjusting its position.
    "But of course Checheyev wasn't head resident here, was he?" she said, leading me for the benefit of the jury.
    Not for the first time, I wondered how much she knew and how much she was depending on my answers. I decided that her technique was a blend of ignorance and cunning; that she was rehearsing me in things she already knew and concealing what she didn't.
    "No, he wasn't. The head resident was a man named Zorin. A blackarse could never have made top man in a major Western post. Not even Checheyev."
    "Didn't you have dealings with Zorin?"
    "You know I did."
    "Tell us about them."
    "They occurred under the strict orders of the Top Floor. We met every couple of months or so in a safe house.”
    “Which one?"
    "Trafalgar. In Shepherd Market."
    "Over what period?"
    "Altogether I suppose we had a dozen meetings. They were recorded, naturally."
    "Did you have meetings with Zorin that were not recorded?"
    "No, and he brought his own tape recorder along for good measure."
    "And the purpose of these meetings?"
    I gave her the whole mouthful, exactly as it had read in my brief: "Informal exchanges between our two services on matters of potential mutual interest, to be conducted in the new spirit of cooperation."
    "And precisely?"
    "Shared headaches. Drugs traffic. Maverick arms pedlars. Bomb-slinging extremists. Cases of major international fraud involving Russian interests. When it began, we were keeping our voices low and not quite telling the Americans. By the time I left, the collaboration was pretty well