The Agency

11 - Truth

The two suits rose and stepped out onto the balcony, heads together like some Siamese aberration, while they whispered cryptically. Murray efficiently made a pot of tea and another of coffee and arranged some mugs, sugar, and cream on the living room coffee table. Nathan lit another cigarette and poured himself a cup of tea.

"Care for anything, Richard?" He asked solicitously.

"Yeah, an end to these stupid inquisitions." Richard stood and poured himself a drink from the bar.

"Oh, I think that's a little harsh."

"Harsh! How's this for harsh. Murray had me watch some poor bastard get strangled to death in Italy to impress me with your power, and I imagine now it was a lesson in preparation of this little charade."

"We were just following a thread that's come unraveled." Nathan responded, showing no emotion over Richard's outburst. "Le Chat was something else we've been busy with, something that touches peripherally on your situation."

"Jesus, what a bunch." He said, disgustedly. "What thread? This mysterious other organization thing?"

"The one that binds you and Monique St. Croix." Nathan's face grew red.

"That's a crock." There it was; the crux of this whole interview.

"Really? Money is missing, my boy, money and diamonds. Our inquisitors are convinced Peter didn't know and Dalton, as you astutely pointed out, had been running his business according to Hoyle. You see our reason for confusion, you come aboard and over time things slip beneath the covers again."

"I've been doing this job for you for years! And what the hell convinced everyone Peter was being truthful?"

"They have seen the reports from his uh- debriefing."

Richard snorted in disdain. "I can imagine. Did he say everything you wanted him to, Murray?" The fleeting tic by Murray's eye confirmed a direct hit, surprising Richard that Murray actually could react emotionally.

"And did all those years include creaming a taste for ourselves?" Nathan asked over Richard's comment, the blank stare almost as disturbing.

"Nathan, this is the last time I'm going to say this so listen up. As far as I knew, whatever merchandise received from his contacts was deposited as arranged into your accounts. Cash from the same accounts was paid directly to on-site, so-called administrators of the Whycliffe Foundation. End of my direct knowledge of Peter's business."

"And the rest, Richard?"

"What rest? Why is there a rest?"

"I told you. We had Peter denying your version."

"And of course I'm the one lying."

"We are quite positive that Peter wasn't."

If Peter didn't break under God knows what kind of torture, they were either bluffing or he was so well trained they just couldn't break him . . . maybe he managed to kill himself first. Richard gulped down the last of his drink and set the glass aside. Or, as he suspected, Peter said what he was told.

"And the fact that I did the job you set for me has no bearing on my case? The fact that an organization has been expropriated, turned, and is now yours to do with as you please? Was my management as Peter's replacement not satisfactory?"

The suits returned from the balcony and stood looking at Richard.

"Your performance was exemplary, Richard. We are all more than pleased with the outcome." Nathan turned to the others and nodded, receiving a physical echo. "Our concern is the unexplained shortage of funds. We have all the records of the transactions, Richard; there is a large discrepancy."

"You made several trips here to France over the last two years." Suit two.

"Yes." A long sigh.

"Why?" Annoyance seeping in.

"Nathan," Richard started with exasperation. "Can you make these two understand that I have already told them that I was obviously responsible for monitoring the distribution and collection for various recipients. And for the past few years it has been Monique's job; now I just hop around vetting new sources."

"Here in France," Nathan responded calmly.

"All over, you know that. What are you doing for new sources, Nathan, got another scapegoat filling in for me?"

"When you were still doing the transactions, most of that took place here, in France." Suit one.

"I suppose." Richard watched Nathan grind his teeth.

"That was to pay Roger Léger, Pierre Tremblay and Avalon Bremmer . . . Monique St. Croix's initial contacts." The last was delivered with an extra serving of sugar.

"Monique was working with her partner delivering money, and I never made transactions with Roger or Avalon."

"They don't back you up either!" Suit two blurted, and Nathan turned a vicious scowl in his direction.

"Who don't?"

"I think we should take another pause." Nathan signaled Murray to take Richard outside.

Richard stared out at the sea from the balcony aware that Murray was close behind, watching him. He ignored the feeling and focused on his earlier trips to France . . . and Monique. Had she really betrayed him? And what of Pierre? Was his loyalty that thin? Christ, what had he ever done to him? He tried to imagine what they might have said. Only he and Monique knew the real truth . . . didn't they? Had she enlisted them in a scheme of her own?

Murray's cough brought him back from his preoccupation and he forced himself to return to the living room and the continuation of the interview.

"Rested, Richard? Ready to continue?" Nathan always liked to sound accommodating and concerned.

"Let's just get it over with." Richard flopped back into his seat and gave the two suits a foul look. Suit one looked like Roger Moore only younger, with a grayish, dissipated shade to his face. Suit two was edgier, anger on simmer. Both men gazed at him dispassionately but they had the appearance of being chastised for their careless remark.

Nathan began, his voice tight. "I believe the comment that your dealers held a different view of how the money was distributed was made before we took our break."

"What do you want me to say? I dealt the same with all I met." He knew the longer this went on the chances of coming out in one piece . . . or at all, was slim. His mind scurried over alternatives, none encouraging.

"All of them?" Suit one. "Madame Le Croix had a different version in that regard."

Richard didn't respond immediately, he just gave the man a blank stare and turned to Nathan. Had Monique really revealed their indiscretions?

"I dealt with all of them the same."

"There was a bit more, shall we say, history, in Madame Le Croix's tale."

Richard knew they knew what had taken place. He could see Monique, her head tossing that auburn mane as she blinked dismissively when admitting their liaison and denying any fraudulent behaviour. He also knew that it apparently meant very little to her.

The Agency didn't care about the affair either, beyond digging out the dirt in the cracks to see if any stuck to their asset.They needed to know that the chain of dealings remained intact and untainted because it was they who now ran the operation Dalton and Peter had so helpfully established.

They would keep at him until they did know. They wanted to satisfy their suspicions with God sworn confessions.

"There might have been a few moments not described as business. A considered break in the tedium of commerce." Richard confessed wryly.

Nathan smiled a Cheshire smile. "And the delectable Monique could certainly provide that, eh, my son?"

Suit two shot his cuffs from his jacket and sat up straight. "During these respites from, the tedium of commerce, that was when you came up with the idea to cream some of the money from the deals and pad your little retirement love nest."