Our Man In Havana by Graham Greene Read Free Book Online Page A

don’t.’
    ‘Well, wouldn’t you say it was natural enough?’
    Wormold gave up. He left eighty cents on the counter and said, ‘I must be getting back to the shop.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I don’t like to leave Lopez for long.’
    ‘Ah, Lopez. I want to talk to you about Lopez.’ Again the explanation that seemed most probable to Wormold was that the stranger was an eccentric inspector from headquarters, but surely he had reached the limit of eccentricity when he added in a low voice, ‘You go to the Gents and I’ll follow you.’
    ‘The Gents? Why should I?’
    ‘Because I don’t know the way.’
    In a mad world it always seems simpler to obey. Wormold led the stranger through a door at the back, down a short passage, and indicated the toilet. ‘It’s in there.’
    ‘After you, old man.’
    ‘But I don’t need it.’
    ‘Don’t be difficult,’ the stranger said. He put a hand on Wormold’s shoulder and pushed him through the door. Inside there were two wash-basins, a chair with a broken back, and the usual cabinets and pissoirs. ‘Take a pew, old man,’ the stranger said, ‘while I turn on a tap.’ But when the water ran he made no attempt to wash. ‘Looks more natural,’ he explained (the word ‘natural’ seemed a favourite adjective of his), ‘if someone barges in. And of course it confuses a mike.’
    ‘A mike?’
    ‘You’re quite right to question that. Quite right. There probably wouldn’t be a mike in a place like this, but it’s the drill, you know, that counts. You’ll find it always pays in the end to follow the drill. It’s lucky they don’t run to waste-plugs in Havana. We can just keep the water running.’
    ‘Please will you explain …?’
    ‘Can’t be too careful even in a Gents, when I come to think of it. A chap of ours in Denmark in 1940 saw from his own window the German fleet coming down the Kattegat.’
    ‘What gut?’
    ‘Kattegat. Of course he knew then the balloon had gone up. Started burning his papers. Put the ashes down the lav and pulled the chain. Trouble was – late frost. Pipes frozen. All the ashes floated up into the bath down below. Flat belonged to an old maiden lady – Baronin someone or other. She was just going to have a bath. Most embarrassing for our chap.’
    ‘It sounds like the Secret Service.’
    ‘It
is
the Secret Service, old man, or so the novelists call it. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about your chap Lopez. Is he reliable or ought you to fire him?’
    ‘Are you in the Secret Service?’
    ‘If you like to put it that way.’
    ‘Why on earth should I fire Lopez? He’s been with me ten years.’
    ‘We could find you a chap who knew all about vacuum cleaners. But of course – naturally – we’ll leave that decision to you.’
    ‘But I’m not in your Service.’
    ‘We’ll come to that in a moment, old man. Anyway we’ve traced Lopez – he seems clear. But your friend Hasselbacher, I’d be a bit careful of him.’
    ‘How do you know about Hasselbacher?’
    ‘I’ve been around a day or two, picking things up. One has to on these occasions.’
    ‘What occasions?’
    ‘Where was Hasselbacher born?’
    ‘Berlin, I think.’
    ‘Sympathies East or West?’
    ‘We never talk politics.’
    ‘Not that it matters – East or West they play the German game. Remember the Ribbentrop Pact. We won’t be caught that way again.’
    ‘Hasselbacher’s not a politician. He’s an old doctor and he’s lived here for thirty years.’
    ‘All the same, you’d be surprised … But I agree with you, it would be conspicuous if you dropped him. Just play him carefully, that’s all. He might even be useful if you handle him right.’
    ‘I’ve no intention of handling him.’
    ‘You’ll find it necessary for the job.’
    ‘I don’t want any job. Why do you pick on me?’
    ‘Patriotic Englishman. Been here for years. Respected member of the European Traders’ Association. We must have our man in Havana, you know. Submarines