Evensong

“Because Arden believes it was a single opponent that did that to Chulo. Probably to Miles too. Whoever they are, if they have something that can do that...I know, I’m repeating myself, but I offered you help or a way out and you won’t take either. So I think we’re done here.” And I feel you’re going to your death. I don’t think I’ll see you again.

They stood and shook hands.

Anwar saw Rafiq’s mouth open to speak, and could tell from its shape that the back of his tongue was against the roof of his mouth, about to form the hard G in Good Luck. He didn’t say it. Instead he said, “I’ll see you again, when all this is finished.”

“I’ll walk back to the VSTOL with you,” Arden said.

“That extraordinary car...” she began, as they walked across the parkland in front of Fallingwater.

“You can only get them in England, from a specialist company in Surrey. I’ve always wanted a Cobra. Perhaps, when this mission is over, I’ll have it shipped back here.”

“Perhaps,” she said.

“Rafiq didn’t seem like his usual self.”

“He isn’t,” she said, and, “Anwar, if you want, we could...”

“Don’t, Arden, don’t finish what you were going to say.”

“You’re involved elsewhere, aren’t you?”

“No!” he said, too loudly.

When they reached the VSTOL, which was hovering politely a couple of inches above the lawn where a marquee had stood ten years ago, he added, “Really, I’m not. She’s poison. Whatever she stands for publicly, inside she’s poison.”

“Protesting too much? Be careful, Anwar. Not just of what they send to kill her, but of her.”

She shook his hand, and remained holding it for a moment. A door melted open in the VSTOL’s silvered flank. He stepped inside, and it melted shut behind him. The VSTOL lifted silently into the Kuala Lumpur night. It was 10:10 p.m. local time, on October 1.

“He was a waste of time,” Rafiq told Arden, later. “He gave me nothing. Why didn’t he mention the link with Marek? I gave him at least three opportunities, and he missed them all.”

She said nothing.

“He’s not good enough,” he said, unwittingly echoing Olivia. “I should have sent someone better. Why did I pick him for this mission anyway?”

Still she said nothing.

“I really don’t care about her, Arden. Better if they don’t kill her, but if they do it isn’t the end of the world.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course not. It would be sensational, and public, and would throw everything into chaos. But I’d back myself to be better than them in picking my way through the wreckage.”

“Do you think,” she asked him, “the Secretary-General will go to war with you over UNESCO?”

“He’ll try, but a no-confidence vote will fail. I have the voting covered.” He paused, and added, “I’m proud of UNEX. It works. It delivers on schedule and on budget. But it’s unelected; it could turn into a monster. That’s what he’ll argue in the General Assembly. He’ll lose, but he does have a point.”

“Maybe it works because it’s unelected.”

“Maybe...Arden, about Anwar. I gave him at least three openings to mention Marek and he missed them all. He knew, from you, that Marek’s the common factor in Levin’s and Asika’s deaths, but he didn’t mention it.”

“He’s only a Consultant. He’s not good at the Before and After.”

“He was a waste of time. He gave me nothing. I thought I’d shaken him when I started acting like I was in trouble, but it didn’t work. Wasn’t my acting convincing enough?”

“Yes,” Arden said. “It convinced me.”

He glanced at her sharply, but did not reply.

It was in his nature to think ahead, in long cycles. When the time came, he wanted his successor to be a member of his personal staff, rather than an outsider. Arden Bierce was a possible contender, but not the leading one. She wasn’t ruthless enough, though she had other qualities: intelligence, interpersonal skills, motivation. And something else, her empathy.

“And it wasn’t all acting,” she added. “If it was, he’d have spotted it. He’s still a Consultant.”

Rafiq was well aware of her empathy, her instinct for what made people tick. She wasn’t like him—subtle, labyrinthine, always holding something back—but her empathy was a quality even he couldn’t match, either genuinely or by faking.

Maybe she could do his job with the aid of that empathy, but she wouldn’t do it like him. She couldn’t manipulate people, or cheat them, or ruin or sacrifice them. No, people like Zaitsev and Olivia would eat her alive. And yet...  

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