Free Patricia Highsmith - The Tremor of Forgery by Patricia Highsmith

that ’ s complicated enough, I understand. I know only one man in the group. I broadcast pro-American, pro-Western — what shall I call it? Philosophy. Pep talks. ’ Adams chuckled.
    ‘ Very interesting, ’ Ingham said. ‘ How long ’ ve you been doing this? ’
    ‘ Almost a year now. ’
    ‘ How did they contact you? ’
    1 met a man on a ship. About a year ago. We were on the same ship going from Venice to Yugoslavia. He was a great card-player on the ship. ’ Adams smiled reminiscently. ‘ Not dishonest, just a brilliant bridge-player. Poker, too. He ’ s a journalist, lives in Moscow. But of course he ’ s not allowed to write what he thinks. He sticks strictly to the party line when he writes for the Moscow papers. But he ’ s an important man in the underground organization. He got this equipment for me in Dubrovnik and gave it to me. ’ Adams gestured with a proud flourish at his tape recorder and sender.
    Ingham looked down with, he felt, a dazed respect at the suitcase. He wondered just how much they paid Adams. And why, when Radio Free Europe and the Voice of America were booming the same kind of thing into Russia free? ‘ Have you a special wavelength or something that the Russians can ’ t jam? ’
    ‘ Yes, so I was told. I can shift the wavelength, depending on the orders I have. The orders come in code to me here from Switzerland — Italy sometimes. Would you like to hear a tape? ’
    ‘ I would indeed .’ Ingham said.
    Adams lifted the tape recorder from the suitcase. From a metal box in the suitcase he took a roll of tape. ‘ March-April inclusive. We ’ ll try this. ’ He fixed it in the machine and pushed a button. ‘ I won ’ t play it loud. ’
    Ingham sat down on the other side of the bed.
    The machine hissed, then Adams ’ s voice came on.
    ‘ Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, Russians and non-Russians, brothers everywhere, friends of democracy and of America. This is Robin Goodfellow, an ordinary American citizen, just as many of you, listening, are ordinary citizens of your own… ’
    Adams had winked at Ingham at the name ‘ Robin Good-fellow ’ . He advanced the tape a bit.
    ‘ … what many of you thought of the news that came from Vietnam today. Five American planes shot down by the Viet-cong, say the Americans. Seventeen American planes shot down, say the Vietcong. The Vietcong say they lost one plane. The Americans say the Vietcong lost nine. Someone is lying. Who? Who do you think? What country discloses her failures as well as her successes when it comes to rocket take-offs? When it comes even to the poverty in its land — which the Americans are fighting just as hard to erase as they are fighting lies, tyranny, poverty, illiteracy and Communism in Vietnam? The answer is America. All of you… ’
    Adams pushed a button which advanced the tape in jerks. ‘ Sort of a dull section. ’ The muted tape screamed, hiccuped, and Adams spoke again. Ingham was aware of Adams ’ s tense, self-satisfied smile as he sat perched on the other side of the bed, though Ingham could not look at him, but kept his eyes on the tape machine. His abdomen was contracting, getting ready for another wave of pain.
    ‘ … comfort to us all. The new American soldier is a crusader, bringing not only peace- eventually-but a happier, healthier, more profitable way of life to whatever country he sets foot in. And unfortunately, so often that setting foot ’ (Adams ’ s voice had dropped dramatically to a hushed tone and stopped) — ‘ that setting foot means the death of that soldier, the telegram of bad news to his family back home, tragedy to his young wife or sweetheart, bereavement to his children.. .’
    ‘ Again not too exciting .’ Adams said, though he looked very excited himself. More squeaks and gulps from the tape machine, a couple of samples which did not please Adams, then:
    ‘ … the voice of God will prevail at last. The men who put people before all else will