There were m.u.f.fled noises in the corridor outside the small room. They were voices. It broke Thomas's concentration and he glanced at his watch. He had been alone with Whiteside for almost an hour.

"From there we lost track of Sandler. We thought the Russians had him.

But then he turned up some way in New York. How he got from one place to the other I've never known. All I know is that he did. And his plates were with him."

"In the United States?"

"Where do you think all those pounds were being printed, d.a.m.n it"

snapped Whiteside.

"In your citadel of democracy. Our pound was being sabotaged unmercifully. It was happening on United States soil and nothing was done to stop it."

"Maybe . . " "Washington knew," said Whiteside flatly.

"They knew and did nothing" After an annoyed pause, he added,

"It strengthened the dollar, you know."

Thomas felt a tinge of embarra.s.sment. Whiteside knew it and played the moment to its advantage, letting several seconds pa.s.s before speaking again.

"So you see, we knew that our currency was being sabotaged by counterfeits, we knew who was doing it, and we knew it had to be stopped. Your Uncle Sam wouldn't help" Whiteside sighed.

"We don't like to do things this way, really we' don't, But it became inc.u.mbent upon us." He -paused.

"We ordered him 'put down ' "Is that what you call a.s.sa.s.sinated?"

Thomas asked. Whiteside nodded.

"Sounds like the mercy killing of a horse."

"Term it anything you like,- said Whiteside.

"Men are much more vile than animals anyway. Call it killed. I gave the order myself.

Personally. In 1954. And in case you're wondering," he added without hesitation,

"I'd order it again today."

"You might have to," Thomas said.

"You missed the first time" "Yes " said Whiteside.

"I know. Sandler was up to the chauen ' as usual. He had a double.

Imagine" gel mused Whiteside pensively.

Then his expression brightened.

"But in any event, the forgery of pounds stopped soon thereafter. So the put-down of the double may have accomplished its purpose in a roundabout manner. Maybe it drove Sandler farther underground. Maybe it genuinely scared him, though I doubt it. Or maybe he was plain ready to graduate to other things. Who knows?"

Both men were silent in thought for a moment. Whiteside spoke next.

"All I know is that the forgery of British pound sterling stopped within weeks. That was all I was ever concerned with" "No, it's not"

Thomas reminded him gently.

"Not all. Not by a long shot "Ah, yes he said, remembering.

"Leslie "You certainly took steps to protect her. But why after all those years did Sandler feel that he had to come back and kill a wife and daughter? That makes no sense, either."

"Vaguely, it does," said Whiteside.

"But only when considered from a certain angle, and conceding that with Sandler one isn't always dealing with a rational man" "Can you elaborate?" asked Thomas.

"This is merely speculation, but maybe we never knew the full story of the post marital breakup. Perhaps there was a good reason why Sandler never returned to her after the war. Thus he could have been infuriated that she'd claim part of his 'estate' after he was 'dead." "

"Maybe," said Thomas.

"But why wait so long?"

"She initiated the contact," Whiteside said. His hands were busily working a small Canary Islands cigar out of a compact gold case.

He took the cigar in his lips, lit it, and was enshrouded by a mild white cloud of smoke as he continued to talk.

"Perhaps Sandler had believed her to be long lost and forgotten. Or perhaps he thought she'd been killed during the war. Maybe he doubted that the daughter was his." Whiteside shrugged.

"I don't know," he said.

"And from my standpoint, it's not all that important."

"Not to you, maybe. But there's something big that's still missing."

"Granted."

"He loved Elizabeth Chatsworth enough during the war to want to provide for her in the case of his death. Then suddenly after the war he's totally oblivious to her. British and American intelligence knew he was a spy and helped cover him up. Right?" Whiteside nodded absently.

"Then this same man wants to come back and kill his wife and daughter nine years later." Thomas was shaking his head.

"There are large pieces of this missing" he concluded.

Whiteside managed a pained smile.

"Larger than you imagine he said.

"Particularly in view of this woman who has come to you in New York Thomas frowned.

"Meaning what?"

Whiteside rubbed his hands together gently, then flicked a small tip of ashes into an ashtray. He stood.

"Come along," he said.

"We're going for a ride. I want to show you something" Thomas stood and let Whiteside lead him to the door.