The Vivero Letter

So what was I supposed to do about Jack Gatt? From what Pat Harris had said Gatt was in an unassailable position from the legal point even if he had given the word to Niscemi. There wasn't a single charge to be brought against him that would stick. And for me to tackle Gatt on his own terms would be unthinkably stupid -- the nearest analogy I could think of was Monaco declaring war on Russia and the United States.

What the devil was I doing in Mexico, anyway? I looked back on the uncharacteristic actions of my recent past and decided that the barbed words of that silly little bitch, Sheila, had probably set me off. Many men have been murdered in the past, but their brothers haven't run around the world thirsting for vengeance. Sheila's casual words had stabbed me in the ego and everything I had done since then had been to prove to myself that what she had said wasn't true. Which only went to show I was immature and probably a bit soft in the head.

Yet I had taken those actions and now I was stuck wife the consequences. If I quit now and went back to England, then I suppose I'd regret it for the rest of my life. There would always be the nagging suspicion that I had run out on life and somehow betrayed myself, and that was something I knew I couldn't live with. I wondered how many other men did stupidly dangerous things because of a suspected assault on their self-respect.

For a short period I had talked big. I had browbeaten a millionaire into doing what I wanted him to do, but that was only because I had a supreme bargaining counter -- the Vivero mirror. Now Fallon had the mirror and its secret and I was thrown back on my own resources. I didn't think he'd break his promises, but there wasn't a thing I could do if he reneged.

The grey little man was still around. He was dressed in some pretty gaudy and ill-fitting clothes and he wore his disguise with panache, but he wished to God he wore his conservative suit and his bowler hat and carried his rolled umbrella instead of this silly lance. I pulled a sour face at the man in the mirror; Jemmy Wheale -- sheep in wolf's clothing.

My mood was uncertain and ambivalent as I left the room.

I found Pat Harris downstairs wearing a stethoscope and carrying a little black box from which protruded a shiny telescopic antenna. He waggled his hand at me frantically and put his finger to his lips, elaborately miming that I should be quiet. He circled the room like a dog in a strange place, crisscrossing back and forwards, and gradually narrowed his attention to the big refectory table of massive Spanish oak.

Suddenly he got down on to his hands and knees and disappeared beneath the table, completing his resemblance to a dog. All I could see were the seat of his pants and the soles of his shoes; his pants were all right, but his shoes needed re-pairing. After a while he backed out, gave me a grin, and put his finger to his lips again. He beckoned, indicating that I should join him, so I squatted down, feeling a bit silly. He flicked a switch and a narrow beam of light shot from the little torch he held. It roamed about the underside of the table and then held steady. He pointed, and I saw a small grey metal box half hidden behind a crossbeam.

He jerked his thumb and we climbed out from under the table and he led me at a quick walk out of the room, down the passage, and into Fallon's study which was empty. 'We've been bugged,' he said.

I gaped at him. 'You mean, that thing is . ..'

'. . . a radio transmitter.' He took the stethoscope from Ms ears with the air of a doctor about to impart bad news. 'This gadget is a bug finder. I sweep the frequencies and if there's a transmitter working close by this thing howls at me through the earphones. Then, to find it, all I have to do is watch the meter.'

I said nervously, 'Hadn't you better shirt up about it?' I looked about the study. 'This place ...'

'It's clean,' he said abruptly. 'I've checked it out.'

'Good God!' I said. 'What made you think there even might be anything like that?'

He grinned. 'A nasty suspicious mind and a belief in human nature. I just thought what I'd do if I were Jack Gatt and wanted to know what goes on in this house. Besides, it's standard procedure in my business.' He rubbed his chin. 'Was anything said in that room -- anything important?'

I said cautiously, 'Do you know anything about what we're trying to do?'

'It's all right -- Fallon filled me in on everything. We stayed up pretty late last night.' His eyes lit up. 'What a hell of a story -- if true!'

I cast my mind back. 'We were all standing around that table talking about the trays. It was then I broke the news that they were really mirrors.'

That's not too good,' said Harris.

'But then we went into the projection room,' I said. 'And I demonstrated what would happen when you bounced a light off me mirrors. Everything else was said in there.'