The Spoilers. Desmond Bagley

      Follet stopped dead and turned his head to speak over his shoulder. ‘And how did you learn about that?’

      ‘A good story like that soon gets around, Johnny. You and Kostas were very clever.’

      Follet turned back to Warren and said seriously, ‘Dr Warren: I’d be very careful about the way you talk – especially about Argentinian millionaires. Something might happen to you.’

      ‘I dare say,’ agreed Warren. ‘And something might happen to you too, Johnny. For instance, if the Argentinian were to find out how he’d been had, he’d raise a stink, wouldn’t he? He’d certainly go to the police. It’s one thing to lose and quite another to be cheated, so he’d go to the police.’ He tapped Follet on the chest. ‘And the police would come to you, Johnny. The best that could happen would be that they’d deport you – ship you back to the States. Or would it be the best? I hear that the States is a good place for Johnny Follet to keep away from right now. It was something about certain people having long memories.’

      ‘You hear too damn’ much,’ said Follet coldly.

      ‘I get around,’ said Warren with a modest smile.

      ‘It seems you do. You wouldn’t be trying to put the bite on me, would you?’

      ‘You might call it that.’

      Follet sighed. ‘Warren, you know how it is. I have a fifteen per cent piece of this place – I’m not the boss. Whatever was done to the Argentinian was done by Kostas. Sure, I was around when it happened, but it wasn’t my idea – I wasn’t in on it, and I got nothing out of it. Kostas did everything.’

      ‘I know,’ said Warren. ‘You’re as pure as the driven snow. But it won’t make much difference when they put you on a VC-10 and shoot you back to the States.’ He paused and said contemplatively. ‘It might even be possible to arrange for a reception committee to meet you at Kennedy Airport.’

      ‘I don’t think I like any of this,’ said Follet tightly. ‘Supposing I told Kostas you were shooting your mouth. What do you suppose would happen to you? I’ve never had a beef against you, and I don’t see why you’re doing this. Just watch it.’

      As he turned away, Warren said, ‘I’m sorry, Johnny; it seems as though you’ll be back in the States before the month’s out.’

      ‘That does it,’ said Follet violently. ‘Kostas is a bad guy to cross. Watch out for your back, Warren.’ He snapped his fingers and a man who was lounging against the wall suddenly tautened and walked over to the bar. Follet said, ‘Dr Warren is just leaving.’

      Warren glanced over at Andy Tozier and held up a finger. Tozier strolled over and said pleasantly, ‘Evening, all.’

      ‘Johnny Follet wants to throw me out,’ said Warren.

      ‘Does he?’ said Tozier interestedly. ‘And how does he propose to do that? Not that it matters very much.’

      ‘Who the hell’s this?’ snapped Follet.

      ‘Oh, I’m a friend of Dr Warren,’ said Tozier. ‘Nice place you’ve got here, Follet. It should be an interesting exercise.’

      ‘What are you talking about? What exercise?’

      ‘Oh, just to see how quickly it could be taken apart. I know a couple of hearty sergeant types who could go through here like a dose of salts in less than thirty minutes. The trouble about that, though, is that you’d have a hell of a job putting back the pieces.’ His voice hardened. ‘My advice to you is that if Dr Warren wants to talk to you, then you pin back your hairy ears and listen.’

      Follet took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks. ‘All right, Steve; I’ll sort this out,’ he said to the man next to him. ‘But stick around – I might need you fast.’ The man nodded and returned to his position against the wall.

      ‘Let’s all have a nice, soothing drink,’ suggested Tozier.

      ‘I don’t get any of this,’ protested Follet. ‘Why are you pushing me, Warren? I’ve never done anything to you.’

      ‘And you won’t, either,’ observed Warren. ‘In particular you won’t say anything about this to Kostas because if anything happens to me all my information goes directly to the places where it will do most good.’

      Tozier said, ‘I don’t know what this is all about, but if anything happens to Dr Warren then a certain Johnny Follet will wish he’d never been born, whatever else happens to him.’

      ‘What the hell are you ganging up on me for?’ said Follet desperately.

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Tozier. ‘Why are we ganging up on him, Doc?’

      ‘All you have to do is to take a holiday, Johnny,’ said Warren. ‘You come with me to the Middle East, help me out on a job, and then come back here. And everything will be as it was. Personally, I don’t care how much money you loot from Argentinian millionaires. I just want to get a job done.’

      ‘But why pick on me?’ demanded Follet.

      ‘I didn’t pick on you,’ said Warren wearily. ‘You’re all I’ve got, damn it! I have an idea I can use a man of your peculiar talents, so you’re elected. And you don’t have much say about it, either – you daren’t take the chance of being pushed back to the States. You’re a gambler, but not that much of a gambler.’

      ‘Okay, so you’ve whipsawed me,’ said Follet sourly. ‘What’s the deal?’

      ‘I’m running this on the “need to know” principle. You don’t have to know, you just have to do – and I’ll tell you when to do it.’

      ‘Now, wait a goddam minute.…’

      ‘That’s the way it is,’ said Warren flatly.

      Follet shook his head in bewilderment. ‘This is the screwiest thing that ever happened to me.’

      ‘If it’s any comfort, brother Jonathan, I don’t know what’s going on, either,’ said Tozier. He eyed Warren thoughtfully. ‘But Doc here is showing unmistakable signs of acting like a boss, so I suppose he is the boss.’

      ‘Then I’ll give you an order,’ said Warren with a tired grin. ‘For God’s sake, stop calling me “Doc”. It could be important in the future.’

      ‘Okay, boss,’ said Tozier with a poker face,

      V

      Warren did not have to go out to find Mike Abbot because Mike Abbot came to him. He was leaving his rooms after a particularly hard day when he found Abbot on his doorstep. ‘Anything to tell me, Doctor?’ asked Abbot.

      ‘Not particularly,’ said Warren. ‘What are you looking for?’

      ‘Just the usual – all the dirt on the drug scene.’ Abbot fell into step beside Warren. ‘For instance, what about Hellier’s girl?’

      ‘Whose girl?’ said Warren with a blank face.

      ‘Sir Robert Hellier, the film mogul – and don’t go all pofaced. You know who I mean. The inquest was bloody uninformative – the old boy had slammed down the lid and screwed it tight. It’s amazing what you can do if you have a few million quid. Was it accidental or suicide – or was she pushed?’

      ‘Why ask me?’ said Warren. ‘You’re the hotshot reporter.’

      Abbot grinned. ‘All I know is what I write for the papers – but I have to get it from somewhere or someone. This time the someone is you.’

      ‘Sorry, Mike – no comment.’

      ‘Oh well; I tried,’ said Abbot philosophically. ‘Why are we passing this pub? Come in and I’ll buy you