Читать книгу An Affair of State - Harry Hart Frank - Страница 23

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The day before Jeff Baker was to leave for Budapest Matson summoned him to his office and said, “I had a call for you from Horace Locke. He wants to see you before you leave. Friend of yours?”

“Horace Locke? No, but I’ve heard my father speak of him. I haven’t heard his name in years. I thought he was retired, or dead, or something.”

“He isn’t, but he should be.”

“Yes?”

“He isn’t very well liked in the Department. He’s outlived his time, and should be out on pension. I wouldn’t take anything he says too seriously. That’s just a friendly hint.”

“Thanks,” Jeff said. He had tried to follow Dannenberg’s advice, and understand Matson’s viewpoint. He had been attentive, respectful, and had muffled his own opinions as much as he could. He tried to agree, at least outwardly, with whatever Matson had to say, as he did now.

“You’re not to talk about anything that goes on in this Division.”

“I won’t, sir.” He could not bring himself to like Matson. When he talked to Matson he felt that his distaste, no matter how carefully he censored it from his voice and masked it from his face, must somehow show, for he knew Matson could feel it. It was as if, like a dog, he exuded a hostile odor, for he could feel Matson bristle.

“If Locke has anything to say about this Division I want a complete report on it. He sometimes tries to start trouble.”

“Yes, sir.”