The Polish Officer
Page 34
Herbert took no pleasure in this—a show of humiliation was, to him, unbearable weakness. And what might come next, he wondered. Tears? Hysterics? Aggression? Whatever it might be, he didn’t want to see it. “I’m sure,” he said, his voice reaching for sympathy, “there was a reason. There’s always a reason.”
Prideaux started to rise, but Herbert stood up quickly, raised a hand like a traffic policeman stopping a car, and a defeated Prideaux sat obediently back down on the bed. Herbert stayed on his feet, stared at Prideaux for a moment, then said, “Monsieur Prideaux, I think it will be easier for both of us if you simply tell me where the money is. Really, much easier.”
It took a few seconds—Prideaux had to get control of himself—then he said, so quietly that Herbert could only just hear the words, “Under the bed.”
Herbert slid the valise from beneath the bed, undid the buckles, and peered inside. “Where are your personal things?” he said.
Prideaux gestured toward another valise, standing open at the foot of the bed.
“Did you put any of the money in there? Have you spent some of it? Or is it all, every franc of it, in here? Best now to be truthful.”
“It’s all there,” Prideaux said.
Herbert closed the valise and pulled the straps tight. “Well, we’ll see. I’m going to take this money away and count it and, if you’ve been honest with me I’ll be back, and I’ll give you a few hundred francs—at least something for wherever you’re going next. Shall I tell you why?”
Prideaux, staring at the floor, didn’t answer.
“It’s because people like you can be useful, in certain situations, and people like you never have enough money. So, when such people help us out, with whatever we might need, we are always generous. Very generous indeed.”
Herbert let this sink in. It took some time, but Prideaux eventually said, “What if I’m … far away?”
Herbert smiled. Prideaux’s eyes were cast down so he didn’t see the smile, which was just as well. “Monsieur Prideaux,” Herbert said, as though he were saying poor Monsieur Prideaux, “there is no such thing as far away.” Then he stepped into the hall and drew the door shut behind him.
Herbert left Lothar to watch the hotel, likely unnecessary but why take chances. Prideaux, he thought, had taken the bait and would remain where he was. Herbert then returned to the nightclub, told General Aleksey where to find Prideaux and described him, in his pajama top and underdrawers. Thirty minutes later, as the canvas horse capered and danced to the music of the accordion, Lothar and the Russian returned. Herbert counted out two thousand Swiss francs, General Aleksey put the money in his pocket, wished them a pleasant evening, and walked out the door.
ALAN FURST is widely recognized as the master of the historical spy novel. Now translated into eighteen languages, he is the author of Night Soldiers, Dark Star, The Polish Officer, The World at Night, Red Gold, Kingdom of Shadows, Blood of Victory, Dark Voyage, The Foreign Correspondent, The Spies of Warsaw, Spies of the Balkans, and Mission to Paris. Born in New York, he lived for many years in Paris and now lives on Long Island.
Visit the author’s website at www.alanfurst.net
ALSO BY ALAN FURST
Night Soldiers
Dark Star
The World at Night
Red Gold
Kingdom of Shadows
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1995 by Alan Furst
Reader’s guide copyright © 2001 by Random House, Inc.
Excerpt from Mission to Paris by Alan Furst copyright © 2012 by Alan Furst
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
Published in the United States by Random House Trade Paperbacks, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
RANDOM HOUSE TRADE PAPERBACKS and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
This work was originally published in hardcover by Random House in 1995.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Furst, Alan
The Polish officer: a novel / Alan Furst.
p. cm.
1. World War. 1939–1945—Secret service—Fiction 2. World War, 1939–1945—Poland—Fiction. 3. Military intelligence—Fiction. 4. Poland—Fiction. I. Title
PS3556.U76 P64 2001
813’.54—dc21 2001041913
Random House website address: www.atrandom.com
eISBN: 978-1-58836-100-4
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