e was amusing himself with me. And yet, looking back on it now, I believe he was more than half serious. From his pouch he drew a small cylinder. "Have a drink, Grant. After all I bear you no ill-will. A man can but follow his trade: you were trying to be a good Government agent."
"Thanks."
"And then you may make it possible for me to pick a nice ransom. Here."
"I hope so." I declined the drink.
"Afraid for your wits?"
I said impulsively, "I want all my wits to make sure you handle this ransom properly, De Boer. I'm as interested as you are: in that at least, we are together."
He grinned, tipped the cylinder at his lips for a long drink.
"Quite so—a mutual interest. Let us be friends over it."
His gaze wandered back to Jetta. He added slowly: