The Ringmaster by Morris West

Author:Morris West [West, Morris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781760638481
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2017-07-10T16:00:00+00:00

Ten

I was back in Tokyo at two in the afternoon. I went straight to my office and telephoned the Australian Ambassador. Our conversation was brief. I told him he might get a call from the Americans to check on my character and my security rating, if any. He promised to classify me A1 at Lloyds. I thanked him and told him I would try to keep him out of gaol too. Then I called Max Wylie at the United States Embassy.

‘Mr Wylie, this is Gil Langton. We have a mutual friend, Marta Boysen.’

‘A pleasure to hear from you, Mr Langton.’

‘Thank you. I’ve just left Marta in Nara. She’s working there with Carl Leibig’s team, as she told you.’

‘She did mention she might be going out of town.’ I noted the instinctive caution of the reply. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Langton?’

‘Marta did express the thought that she would like to bring us together. I think this might be an opportune moment. Would you be free for a drink this evening? Say, five-thirty at the Seiyo Ginza. I have a suite there, we can be quite private.’

‘Is this business or pleasure, Mr Langton?’

‘Let’s say the liquor’s honest and the talk should be interesting.’

‘I’ll look forward to it. Five-thirty at the Seiyo Ginza.’

So, the die was cast and I was back once more in a world through which I had walked briefly but without any sense of attachment or real commitment. Strangely enough, it was my father, that most liberal and free-spirited of men, who had first introduced me into the demi-monde of spooks and snoopers and sundry intrigues and guardians of buried secrets. We were in Canberra, the Commonwealth capital of Australia. We were lunching with the Governor-General, who was an old friend of my father and who wanted to honour his retirement. I was well launched by then. Polyglot Press was making a sound profit. I had flown home from London to be with the old man for the closing ceremonies of his academic career and then to take him marlin fishing among the northern stretches of the Great Barrier Reef.

Among the guests at the luncheon was another of my father’s friends who turned out to be the director of the Australian Security Intelligence Service. My father, as fathers do, had made a hymn of praise about my accomplishments as a linguist. The director offered me a job. I declined. He asked me would I be open to occasional assignment; for example, as an observer or consultant to diplomatic or trade missions. That seemed innocuous enough, but my agreement led me into some strange byways. My training provided me with a certain professional status which might help in my encounter with Max Wylie.

I was just settling down to a little quiet tactical planning when Tanizaki came in almost at a gallop. Had I heard the news? What news? Matsushita had just bought out the US entertainment giant Universal-MCA with all its associated enterprises, for six point one billion dollars! This was big money in any financial language.

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