Ghosts of War Read Online Free PDF Page B

department?”
    Banks shook his head. He glanced at Montague, who nodded, urging him on. “No, Inspector. But here in the city. He's been posing as a young philanthropist from Boston. Quite successfully, I might add. He was able to insinuate his way into various political circles here in New York, and over the course of the last year became quite influential in certain quarters.” The senator pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and mopped his brow. “Even had him over to dinner at my own home,” he said wistfully, as if embarrassed to admit he'd ever been taken in by such a dangerous scoundrel.
    “So he's still at large?” Donovan asked, furrowing his brow. He wasn't quite sure where this was going.
    “Quite so, Inspector. Quite so. Yesterday, it seems, he came into possession of certain…facts that could prove very damaging indeed if they were to fall into enemy hands. But he made a mistake, blew his cover. Now he's somewhere in the city, and I imagine by now he knows that we're on to him.”
    Donovan nodded. “What are these…facts, Senator?”
    Banks frowned. “Suffice to say, Inspector, that they would leave this country very exposed if they were to come into the possession of a hostile nation.”
    “And you think the British mean to use them to that end?” Donovan tried to hide the incredulity in his voice. Did they really think the British were likely to invade?
    Banks inclined his head, just a fraction. “I think anything that puts this nation at risk, Inspector, should be taken very seriously indeed.”
    “Felix, what I believe the senator is getting at is that he would like the help of this department in locating and containing the British spy.” The commissioner beamed at him, as if the very thought of such patriotic work filled him with pride.
    Donovan turned to face the commissioner. “But surely, sir, there's some sort of counterespionage unit who'd be much better placed to deal with something as significant as this? We're a local police force, and we have our hands full with this plague of abductions. I'm not really sure how we can help.”
    Montague shook his head. “Donovan, the security of the nation comes first. It must. Of course there are government men already working on the case. How else do you think we're aware of the spy in the first place? All the senator is asking for is some local assistance with containment. Our men know these streets better than anyone else in the city. We can hound this man down. We can close the borders. We can stop him getting off this island and, in doing so, prevent the outbreak of war.” The commissioner took a swig of his own drink. “Once we've got him, we'll simply hand him over to the right government agency and the matter will be closed.”
    Donovan wanted to laugh. Montague made it sound so easy, instilled it with such romance and melodrama. Closing the borders would be nigh on impossible, and while his men did know the city like the back of their hands, they were hardly trained to be able to handle an active foreign agent. Particularly one who knew he was being hunted. The Englishman was probably armed to the teeth and would fight like a cornered animal if any of Donovan's men even got near him.
    Nevertheless, he supposed he had no choice in the matter. And besides, he knew a man who might be able to help. He nodded, glancing at Banks. “What's his name?”
    “Jerry Robertson. An alias, we presume. We don't know if he operates under any other names.”
    “A description?” Donovan prompted.
    “Commissioner Montague has photographs and descriptions for you already, as well as his last known address.”
    “Very well.” Donovan reached for his scotch and emptied the glass with another long pull. He dropped the barely smoked cigar into the ashtray, scattering dust. “I'll get my men onto it right away. Commissioner?” He glanced at the portly old man, who returned his look with a confused expression. “The photographs?”
    “Ah,