Free The Burma Effect by Michael E. Rose

climbed out of one of London’s rotund black cabs just as Delaney arrived. Leaning through a half-opened window in front to pay the driver from the street, Winton was short, bespectacled, very intense, very Oxford or Cambridge and, Delaney soon learned, hungry and very thirsty. They shook hands on the club steps.
    â€œNice to meet you, Delaney, so glad we could do this,” Winton said. “They serve a nice lamb couscous here at lunchtime.The chap who does the catering is from Tunisia, his whole family seems to be with him at lunch. I would suggest we avoid the FPA wine at all costs. I suggest we stick to the beer.”
    The small dining area on the main floor was still empty. They chose a table near the door. A couple of what appeared to be superannuated foreign correspondent types sat at the small bar, nursing pints of bitter. Winton ordered a bottle of Beck’s, Delaney a local pale ale. The couscous idea was confirmed. The menu was not large.
    â€œWe have been doing everything we possibly can to locate Kellner, you must understand that straightaway,” Winton said after the waiter had poured his beer. “British embassy involved, the Canadians as well. The local police over there are useless, of course.”
    Delaney decided to let him roll.
    â€œBut now perhaps with you going over there, a friend of Kellner’s on the case, as it were, we might have some better luck. The editor-in-chief says to thank you very much for your efforts in this, by the way. He says to give you his best regards.”
    Winton raised his glass, drank deeply. Delaney thought it would be interesting to time how long that first beer would last.
    â€œWe’re very worried about him, of course. All of us at this end,” Winton said. He blinked at Delaney through his round glasses. “Gravely worried now. More than a month has gone by.”
    â€œLong even for Kellner, I would imagine,” Delaney said.
    â€œQuite,” said Winton, looking intently at Delaney. “Exactly so.”
    â€œShall we assume we both know Kellner and his idiosyncrasies well enough to talk frankly, Jeremy?” Delaney said. “That would save us a bit of time.”
    â€œIt would, yes, I quite agree,” Winton said.
    â€œWe both know he is a bit of a wild man, can be a bit of a wild man, at times,” Delaney said.
    â€œNot quite how I would have put it, but, yes, I do know what you’re getting at,” Winton said. “A firstrate correspondent, however. First rate. Amazing contacts. He has done some very fine work for us over the years. Very good stuff.”
    Defence Monthly was, essentially, a trade magazine. Its trade was war, and particularly arms. Who wanted them, who was buying them, who was supplying them and how, who would buy advertising space for at least some of them in Defence Monthly magazine. This required people in the field who knew that world very well indeed.
    â€œTell me something, Jeremy, just so we can eliminate possibilities right away,” Delaney said. “Do your people think Kellner has just gone off on some jaunt to abuse substances or that he is in some kind of serious trouble?”
    Winton looked uncomfortable with this. “I don’t think it would be right for me to start speculating about what Kellner does on his own time,” Winton said. “Much as we would all like to help. It’s true he sometimes worked to what I suppose you could say is an unusual schedule. Of course he did take rather more time off than most of our correspondents and sometimes he wouldn’t tell us exactly when he was going and when he was coming back. But it has never been like this. A day or so, maybe, and then he would call in from somewhere or other or he would be back in Bangkok. And when he was on assignment we might not hear from him for a while but he would often be in obscure places, where the mobile network was not good, for example, or where he might simply have