The Spy Who Knew Too Much by Howard Blum

Author:Howard Blum
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-04-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

THE DRAWING WAS DONE ON graph paper, the lines dark and bold, the lettering in a legible print, block letters and all capitals. It showed the layout of a Maryland shopping center. In small, neat boxes, the words clear and direct, was a roll call of the shops: Hamburger Hamlet, Giant Food Store, Sloane’s Furniture Store, Ice Cream Parlor. At a glance, it had the appearance of a child’s impromptu handiwork, something crafted while looking out the window of that family station wagon after Mom had dashed into a store.

Yet it was a map for a secret agent behind enemy lines.

And X marked the spot.

It was there, as bold as a beacon, just below the box marked “K-B Theater.” A very carefully drawn X. As a further clue there was a bubble, the kind that appears above a character’s head in a cartoon, only inside this one were the words “telephone booth.”

Koecher had received this map from his wife. She’d been on her way to her job in New York’s Midtown diamond district and had just exited a packed subway car. As she weaved through the morning rush-hour crowd spilling about the Times Square subway platform, her handler passed her a Dunhill cigarette pack. He didn’t stop. He didn’t even break stride. It was a perfect brush pass. And wedged inside the cigarette pack, folded fastidiously, was the map. When she went down to Washington to visit her husband that weekend, she handed it over.

Now it was his guide. It was the dead of night, well after midnight, a time when the shopping center was as dark and deserted as a ghost town and every stray noise seemed as loud as an explosion. Koecher carried a brown paper shopping bag, the sort checkout clerks fill with groceries. Inside the bag was another bag, but this one was plastic, and it was firmly bound with strips of masking tape.

Koecher found the telephone booth and entered. He dialed the number for the correct time because, as every professional knows, you must be able to account for every movement; you never know who’s lurking about. He listened to the recording and hung up. Then he left, making sure to leave the shopping bag on the floor of the phone booth.

He drove back home to Washington and crawled into bed. Only more often than not, he’d later share, he’d be too wired to sleep after a drop. He’d reach for a book and try to read, but concentration would be impossible. His mind wouldn’t stop racing, his thoughts careening every which way. He’d be filled with a restless, excited energy. All he could do, he’d explain, was pray he wouldn’t look too fatigued when he showed up at his desk a few hours later at the CIA.

Pete, who in his youth had also known the solitary dread of the spy sneaking through the night, the throbbing fear that the enemy was monitoring your every move, read the accounts of Koecher’s deliveries with a particular understanding.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.