Maguire and Hackett got up later the next morning. The happy woman on the reception desk was there again, laughing away to herself when they came down for breakfast. After another barely adequate morning meal, they headed out from the hotel. As they did not want to arrive out in Ealing too early, in case Agaskayon only worked afternoons or some such, they walked around the area of the hotel for a bit and then got the Tube up to Hyde Park and strolled around there. Maguire saw a number of squirrels, which made her excitable in a manner that even she found a bit embarrassing. Hackett kept a careful but unobtrusive eye on the other walkers, checking that they were not being followed. It was, of course, hard to tell. Even before the Transition, London had a lot of people in it who occupied themselves by keeping an eye out for suspicious behaviour (broadly defined) and following around anyone they thought might be up to something. Now there were, clearly, a number of plain-clothes operatives from National Security at work in the park, but as far as Hackett could make out, none of them were following her and Maguire. Maguire's obviously unfeigned delight in the antics of the park's squirrels was probably a help here.
Eventually, though, Hackett felt able to say: "I think we've killed enough time. Let's go to Ealing". So they did. As they were still a bit early they stopped for a coffee. While in the small local café, two clowns came in and ordered from the counter in the miming way beloved of those strange painted people. The clowns sat down at a table together and drank their coffees, but everyone else was now tense, uncertain as to what the unpredictable comedians might do next. Maguire and Hackett looked at each other, their eye contact communicating that they were not going to be intimidated. They sat there slowly sipping their coffees (a mocha for Hackett and a latte for Maguire) and continuing to make small talk, in an attempt to convince both themselves and the others in the café that they at least were not afraid of the oddly dressed new arrivals. But when their drinks were finished they did not linger, making their way out onto the street. As she left, Maguire somehow caught the eye of one the clowns. He was made up as a Sad Clown, but he seemed to be smiling at her, though it was hard to tell under all the make-up.
"Fucking clowns", said Hackett, once they were out on the street. "We've got our problems at home, but at least we don't have clowns. If I lived here I really would be wondering why National Security aren't doing something about those jokers. I mean, what's the point of the Transition if it can't get rid of freaks like them?".
"Woaah there, Lexa", said Maguire, so astonished by Hackett's comments that she broke the Organisation's cardinal rule and used her colleague's real first name and not the fake one she was using for the mission. "Maybe if Agaskayon's open we should get you some of the Nazi stuff Ryan mentioned in his report. Some of that SS underwear would go well with what you're saying. Those clowns seemed harmless enough to me".
"You know, I could engage with what you've said, but by mentioning the Nazis you've just lost the argument".
"Oh really? I suppose when you set up your Clown Concentration Camps you'll say that anyone who compares your policy of clown extermination to the Third Reich has also lost the argument?".
Hackett did not respond. She could to an extent see the point Maguire was making, but she really hated clowns.
They turned onto the antiques dealer's street and walked up to the shop. It was still closed.
"Arse", said Hackett.
"I don't think we can keep coming back here day after day indefinitely on the off chance that the place will be open", said Maguire. "Let's see what they say about when the shop was last open". She indicated a small corner shop across the road. Hackett nodded and they went over.
"Hello!", said Maguire to the South Asian woman who eyed them suspiciously from behind the cash register. "That antiques shop across the road – Agaskayon's – we were told they had some good stuff there, but it seems to be closed".
"Yes, it is closed", answered the shopkeeper.
"But is it just closed today?" said Maguire.
"It was closed yesterday as well".
"I see, but how about before that? Has it closed down for good, do you think?"
"I do not know these things. It is not my shop".
"Right", said Hackett. "But sitting across here, you would surely be able to notice when it is open and when it is closed. So do you remember when it was last open?"
The woman thought for a bit and then reluctantly spoke. "It was open last week, I think, early last week. Maybe Monday. Or Tuesday. I was here and I could see it open. And then in the afternoon, early in the afternoon, the shop man came out of it with some other men and pulled down the shutters, and then they went away. I have not seen the shop open since".
"Have you seen Mr Agaskayon, the antique dealer, since?" asked Maguire.
"No", answered the woman.
"And do you remember anything about the men he went away with?" said Hackett.
"No".
"Did he seem to be going away willingly with them?"
"You ask a lot of questions".
"Yes, but we're just trying to find out whether the shop is likely to be reopening again soon", said Maguire. "We heard they had some things for sale that would really have suited my friend here".
The shopkeeper looked at Hackett in a manner that suggested she was thinking about what items Agaskayon had that might suit her. Then she said: "He seemed to be friends with the men, but I was not paying close attention. I do not work for National Security". The last sentence was polite but contained a slight barb.
"Well thanks", said Maguire. "Sorry to have taken up your time". And then to Hackett: "Come on, let's go".
They went for a stroll, pondering their next move.
"I think Agaskayon was tipped off that we were onto him", said Maguire. "His pals advised him to shut up shop and he has scarpered".
"That seems likely", said Hackett. "So, should we try and track him down?"
"How would we?"
"Oh, the usual. There are probably some kind of publicly accessible records associated with the shop that could give us a home address for him. Or we could get the phone book and contact some of the other Agaskayons and see if they know him. I mean, it's not a common name, they're probably all related. And maybe one of the shop's neighbours has a forwarding address for post".
"I don't like it", said Maguire. "Any of those could draw attention to us. If Agaskayon's people have any links to the authorities here, they'll notice someone poking around in public records looking for his home address. And contacting his friends and relations through the phone book will definitely set off alarm bells. They may even spring a trap on us".
"I take your point", said Hackett. "But that leaves us with few options".
"We do have some other lines of inquiry. There's the hotel Ryan was staying in. The Cartwright Friendly. We've assumed that this is all to do with Agaskayon, but maybe there is something fishy going on there. Or maybe they just know something that would help us work out what happened to Ryan".
"OK, let's go there. Now. But we'll have to be on our guard there, I think".
"Just like everywhere", said Maguire, with an air of bravado that even she was somewhat convinced by.
18/11/2011
An inuit panda production
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