He rose from the desk, put the portfolio back in the filing cabinet, closed the drawer and tested the lock. "Suppose we meet again after I have my dinner with Commander New at the Embassy tomorrow night. He's our new Intelligence man. Understand he took quite a beating from the Hun at Dunkirk."
"Swell. Same place?"
"I don't know yet, old man. Suppose I give you a ring." The Englishman suddenly lapsed into a lisping, Castillian Spanish. "Señor Hall? Eh, Señor Hall? This is Father Arupe. Bless you, my son. Would you care to come to confession tonight?"
"Then it will be Father Arupe on the phone?"
"Yes, Señor. If I ask you to confession, it means this office in an hour. If I suggest you attend mass in the morning, drive out to my house. I'll write the address for you."
"Good."
"Oh, just another word about tonight's reports. If you could help me bring the facts about the waterfront to your government, I think it would be most beneficial. Most beneficial, old man."
"I'll do my best."
"I know I can count on you. Knew it before I ever laid eyes on you, Hall. One of my associates can keep us both posted on the waterfront. Name's Harrington. Grand chap, Harrington. Straight as a die, and intelligent."
Hall poured a cup full of cold coffee and swallowed it in a gulp. "God, that's good coffee," he said.