Free Yesterday's Spy by Len Deighton

up every which way, so I’m not joining the fan club. Champion is a creep, an over-confident creep, and if he steps out of line we’ll clobber him, but good!’
    â€˜That’s the way it looks,’ I agreed.
    â€˜You’re telling me it’s all a set-up?’
    I shrugged. ‘That’s one of the new couplers, is it?’
    Schlegel stroked the metal case that was intended to make it look like a cheap typewriter. ‘I can plug that baby into any computer with terminals. Last week I used the CIA TELCOM from a call-box, and tomorrow I’ll abstract from the London Data Bank.’
    â€˜London will ring you back?’
    â€˜But not here. Not secure enough. That old doll downstairs … no, I’ll have to get going.’
    â€˜Meet her,’ I said. ‘Otherwise I’ll get endless questions.’
    â€˜One drink,’ he said.
    â€˜You could be right … about Champion, I mean. People change.’
    We picked our way down the narrow creaking staircase before the time-switch plopped. I opened the door marked ‘No Entry’ and went through it into the bar.
    Through the bead curtain I could see a patch of sunlight on the scaly brickwork of the alley. But inside, the room was as dark as night. An ornate table-lamp at one end of the bar made a golden spot on each of the bottles lined up behind the counter, and gave just enough light for the Princess to see the cash register.
    â€˜Come and sit here, Charlie darling,’ she said, but her eyes were fixed on Colonel Schlegel. Obediently, I took the bar stool she indicated. Schlegel sat down, too. I put my arm round the Princess and gave her rouged and powdered cheek a circumspect kiss.
    â€˜Rapist!’ said the Princess.
    A girl appeared from out of nowhere and put her hands on the counter to show us how willing she was to serve expensive drinks.
    â€˜Underberg,’ said Schlegel, ‘and soda.’
    â€˜And Charlie will have Scotch,’ said the Princess. ‘So will I.’
    The girl served the drinks and, without discussing the subject, put it all on my bill. Schlegel had the coupler at his feet and I noticed the way he kept his shoe pressed against it to be sure it was not removed.
    â€˜Does your friend know that you were here in the war, Charlie?’
    â€˜Yes, he knows,’ I said.
    â€˜What war was that, Charlie?’ said Schlegel.
    The Princess pretended not to hear Schlegel. She craned her neck to look in the fly-specked mirror behind the bar, so that she could make adjustments to her rouge and eye make-up.
    â€˜We had good times, didn’t we, Charlie? We had good times as well as bad ones.’ She turned to face us again. ‘I can remember nights when we sat along this bar counter, with the German sentries walking along the sea-front there. Guns in my cellar and the wireless set in a wine barrel. My God! When I think of the risks we took.’
    â€˜You knew this guy Champion then?’ Schlegel asked her.
    â€˜And I liked him. I still do like him, although I haven’t seen him for years. A gentleman of the old sort.’ She looked at Schlegel as he swilled down his Underberg and then crunched the ice-cubes in his teeth. ‘If you know what I mean,’ she added.
    â€˜Yeah, well, there’s a lot of definitions,’ said Schlegel affably, ‘and most of them are obscene. So you liked him, eh?’
    â€˜Well, at least he didn’t betray us,’ said the Princess.
    â€˜Did anyone?’ I said.
    â€˜That filthy little Claude betrayed us,’ said the Princess.
    â€˜Claude
l’avocat
?
I saw him only yesterday.’
    â€˜Here? The little swine is here?’ shouted the Princess angrily. ‘He’ll get killed if he comes here to Villefranche.’ She clasped her beads and twisted them against her neck, staring at me as if angry that I didn’t understand. ‘If only I’d kept the newspaper