A Gathering of Spies Read Free Page B

by the crook of her arm, into the living room. Bright winter sunshine, thick with dust, gushed in through a window. There was a lot of dust in the house; Catherine was not much of a housekeeper.
    She sat heavily on the couch. Richard looked down at her, trying to contain himself. He should really give her time to wake up. She could be moody, as he well knew, if she wasn’t given enough time to wake up. But he had just come from a meeting with the most brilliant men in the world— me , he thought, they chose me !—and proximity to such brilliance had set him on fire. He couldn’t help himself. He blurted it out.
    â€œDarling,” Richard said, “it’s a job. A phenomenal job.”
    She blinked up at him sleepily.
    â€œGovernment work,” he said, sitting down beside her. “It’s a great honor, Catherine, just phenomenal.”
    She yawned.
    â€œOut of all the people in the department, they chose—”
    â€œRichard,” she said.
    â€œMe. They chose me .”
    â€œI need tea,” she said.
    She stood up and brushed past him into the kitchen.
    Richard sat and listened as Catherine made herself a pot of tea. So far, he was thinking, so good. He had told her only half of it, of course. The easy half. He hadn’t gotten to the part about needing to leave Princeton. But that could wait until she’d had her tea. Her mood after waking improved greatly, as a rule, with the consumption of caffeine.
    After a few minutes she came back into the living room, cup in hand, her blond hair bouncing, and sat beside him on the couch again. She looked more alert now. Her eyes, green flecked with gray, were sharp. The beginnings of crow’s-feet were imprinted around those eyes, but in Richard’s opinion they only made her look more lovely. Catherine possessed a rare kind of beauty, a true beauty, which would only grow deeper and more profound as she got older.
    She had brought her pack of cigarettes from the kitchen. She lit one and exhaled a thin stream of smoke. Her eyes found his.
    â€œA job,” she said.
    He nodded eagerly. “Not just any job. A phenomenal job. A phenomenal oppor—”
    â€œWhat does it pay?”
    â€œPay?” he said.
    The truth was, he hadn’t even thought to ask what it paid. He didn’t even know, as a matter of fact, if he would get paid. And he didn’t especially care. This was a chance to work alongside the most brilliant men in the world. Elbow to elbow; cranium to cranium. Hell, he would pay for this opportunity, if that was what it took.
    But Catherine’s eyes, over the rim of her cup, were not only sharp—they were arch.
    â€œI don’t know exactly what it pays,” he said cautiously. “But I’m sure the money’s good.”
    â€œHow good?”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œHow good?” she asked, taking a drag from her cigarette, chasing it with a sip of tea.
    â€œI don’t know exactly. But that’s not the point, Catherine. The point is that I’ll be working with the greatest thinkers in the world. The greatest thinkers in the world .”
    â€œThe greatest thinkers in Princeton, you mean.”
    â€œNo, no, no. They’ll be coming from all over. Chicago, Berkeley, maybe even—”
    â€œComing to Princeton?”
    He blinked.
    â€œNot coming to Princeton?” she said.
    He shook his head.
    â€œComing where?” she asked.
    â€œWell … Albuquerque.”
    â€œAlbuquerque?”
    â€œNew Mexico.”
    â€œWe’re going to New Mexico?”
    â€œThat depends,” he said. “Some of the boys are bringing their wives. But some of them …” He left the thought unfinished.
    A ridge of concentration appeared between her eyes.
    That ridge, even after nearly eight years of marriage, mystified Richard Carter.
    The things Catherine said, after getting that ridge between her eyes, invariably came as a surprise to him.
    When