'Well, yes, that I can believe. He's an arrogant bastard — if you'll forgive the description.'

I laughed generously, and it wasn't difficult. The breakthrough I'd made was holding up, and if this man wasn't yet convinced I was a potential ally he seemed to be getting close. But we'd reached the point where it could be dangerous to push things, and as the boy brought Slavsky's drink I looked at my watch and then at Gabrielle. 'As you can tell, we've finished our business.'

'Did it go well?'

'We needed to reach an understanding, and I think we've done that. He's a good man to negotiate with. But I'm feeling a bit under the weather — I ate some raw vegetables at lunch time, which was pretty stupid, and I'm ready for an early night. Would you like me to leave you in Boris's good care, or shall I see you to your hotel?'

She turned away to look across the table for a moment, a mischievous smile on her mouth. 'Perhaps he might ask me to dinner,' she said, 'who knows?'

'I'm damned if I like sitting this one out, but I wouldn't be much company, the way I'm feeling. How long will you be in Pouthisat?'

'For quite a while. I'm here on a photographic assignment.'

'Then maybe I can see you again.'

'I'd like that,' she said.

I looked at Slavsky and switched back to Russian. 'So let's leave it like that, Boris. If you come up against any problem with delivery, I'll be there to help.'

'How will you know?'

I smiled. 'I shall know because I'm here on what we might call a watching brief.'

'You've got your spies out.'

'Oh my dear fellow, that sounds so uncharitable. Do you speak English, by the way?'

'When necessary.'

'That's a good answer, because the lady was asking just now If you're in town overnight.'

'And what did you say, since you know so much?'

I laughed again. 'I told her there are no more planes in any case. She also suggested you might be in the mood to ask her to dinner. I'm out of the running, as I mentioned.' He swung his heavy gaze to Gabrielle. 'But you'll have to do better,' I told him, 'than "the cat sat on the mat", or there won't be much conversation.'

Leaning towards Gabrielle he said in careful English, 'It would give me greatest pleasure if you may have dinner with me tonight.'

I got up, leaving some money for the drinks on the table as Gabrielle said in pleased surprise, 'I'd be delighted.'

'You're a dark horse, Boris,' I said, 'your English is better than mine. The best restaurant in this dump is Les Deux Magots, by the way, and I recommend the escargots and the coq au vin — but for God's sake don't eat any salad or anything else uncooked. Have a nice evening, and don't worry about a single thing.' I kissed Gabrielle's hand and said in English, not to be outdone, 'It is nice for me when I may see you again.'

'Au plaisir, m'sieur.'

The clock over the bar was at twenty past six when I left, and I was stationed in cover not far from the hotel entrance an hour later when Slavsky and Gabrielle came out and climbed into a cyclo, sitting side by side as it started off in the direction of Les Deux Magots.

It was a simple tumbler lock on the door of Room 27 and I went inside and left it half open, going across to the window and opening that too, looking down. There was a drop of eight or nine feet onto a pile of what looked like empty crates outside the back entrance, be a noisy exit and I'd have to watch I didn't get a foot stuck between the broken slats when I landed, would cost precious time, but there was no yard wall or anything to stop a clear run if I needed one.

From the distance a bell tolled in one of the temples, like the incessant chiming of a clock; the relative cool of the evening crept into the stifling warmth of the room; through the plaster-and-lattice wall came the faint sound of voices, Asian by their tone.

There was a flashlight on the bed table and I used that instead of putting the lights on, found Slavsky's midnight-blue silk dressing-gown and hung it from the top hinge of the half-open door to cover the narrow gap. Then the bathroom: Slavsky wasn't an espion, wouldn't have had any training in clandestine operations, hadn't shown himself to be terribly bright this evening in the bar, was simply a man who shipped munitions out and took the money home, but he might have learned that the underneath of the toilet cistern cover and the space between the bathtub and the wall are the only places where you can hope to hide anything from the amateurs.

Nothing there.

I didn't know how long I had. I'd briefed Gabrielle to avoid putting any questions to Slavsky as to what he did for a living, simply to accept the standard cover he'd give her — that of an import-export agent. But at some stage he might think she'd been set up to coax information out of him, and that would put an end to their cosy little evening and he'd be back in this hotel in a panic trying to find a vacant line to his base in Moscow — have you heard of a man called Voss who's meant to be working with the Dmitrovich group? He would also be through that doorway over there at a run to make sure the attache case was still where he'd left it.

I checked for hairs drawn taut across the gaps between the tops of the drawers in the dressing-table, found none; the telephone directory wasn't lined up in any particular way on the bedside table, didn't have one corner exactly at the edge or anything; there were no match-ends anywhere, balanced on movable surfaces, no little traps of any kind. I hadn't expected them — again, Slavsky wasn't an espion, didn't imagine anyone in Pouthisat would search his room; but I had to take the most extreme care while I was here, because if I left any sign of intrusion he'd telephone Moscow and change his plans for delivery and we wouldn't know what they were.

We wouldn't necessarily know what they were now: I could come away with nothing, draw blank.

A great deal would depend on Gabrielle Bouchard. I wouldn't have stood a chance of getting Slavsky to open up in the bar this evening without the distraction she had offered to dull his thinking; I wasn't sure I would even have approached him, despite the in-depth briefing I'd had from Moscow via Pringle. But with Gabrielle there it had gone off well enough — I'd got Slavsky at least to admit, however tacitly, that he was running arms to the Khmer Rouge. And at this moment Gabrielle was still working for the cause, keeping the Russian amused while I checked the drawers, the cupboards, the hidden spaces in the room, coming up with only toys so far: Madonna's Greatest Hits on cassette, a plastic sachet of hard-porn photographs, a packet of exotic condoms with stars and stripes, an American DP51 high-capacity 9mm pistol, a half-empty flask of Smirnov.

The attache case was under the chest of drawers, pushed right back so that it didn't show: Slavsky hadn't trusted the hotel safe and didn't want to attract attention by carrying the thing around in a town where a kid's piggy-bank would be an instant target.

Bundles of banknotes, denomination 500 Swiss francs, nothing underneath them. I shut the case and slid it back against the wall. If Slavsky had -

Footsteps and I froze.

They were on the stairs, climbing. Not, I thought, hurrying, but then a man as big as Slavsky might have been told not to hurry up any stairs, not to surprise the heart: cardiac arrest was the leading cause of death among the top international arms dealers.

Climbing the stairs and reaching the passage now.

The window exit was an option only if I'd finished here, and I hadn't. The other option was to stay in the room and take Slavsky and give him to Pringle, have one of his agents-in-place grill the Russian to the point of death, suck him dry if he'd talk at all.