Chapter 8: Who is Derek Clarkson?

The Governor-General's secretary looked up as I approached her.

"Is he free? I've got something important to show him."

"He's got the Defense Minister with him at the moment. Can it wait?

"No, it can't really wait. Besides, it concerns the Minister, as well.

"Wait here. I'll check if they'll see you," she said.

She crossed to the Oval Office door, knocked and opened it. "Agent MacLeod wants to see both of you, urgently."

There was a murmured reply and she turned to me and beckoned. I crossed to the door and the Secret Service Agent held up his hand.

"Your wand, please, Sir."

I didn't know what he expected me to do. Perhaps turn the Governor-General into a toad. I took my wand from its sheath and handed it to him.

"Come in Robert." Baron Clinton said, "I believe you know the Defense Minister?"

"Yes, Sir. We've already met."

"Come in, Robert, come in. I'm sorry that I wasn't here the other day to welcome you. Now what can we do for you?"

"Last night," I said, "I caught a spy extracting a document from the Minister's safe."

"What? Who? How? What did he take?" the minister spluttered.

I took the purloined document from my jacket, and handed it to him. He and Baron Clinton examined it briefly.

"This could be dangerous. How long did the spy have it? And where is he now?"

"Not long, but it could have been long enough to register what it's about. He's now in one of the basement cells. I questioned him, after I caught him. He told me that a geas was laid on him to prevent him revealing the identity of his director, but I was able to get the director's name and address. The spy is now back in the basement cell."

"Well! Don't you think you ought to be out arresting this director?" The Minister said.

"No, Sir. I'd rather be watching him. He could lead us to more agents or even to his handler."

"Good thinking, Bob," said Baron Clinton.

I handed the stolen documents and the safe key to the Minister and left the Oval Office.

I asked the secretary. "Do you have a map of Washington?"

"No, but I may know what you want. Where are you after?"

"I have a name and address. I want to know if it's real. The name is Derek Clarkson and the address is ten ten Evarts Street NE DC."

"I know that street. It's real enough. Now let me look up the name in a teleson directory. Clarkson, you said?

"Yes. That's right."

"Yes. Here we are. D. Clarkson at one thousand and ten, Evarts Street North East."

"Is that Derek?"

"It doesn't say. Just 'D'. Let me look in the voter's list." She thumbed quickly through another directory. "No it's David Clarkson."

"Hmm. I wonder. Could you look to see if there's another Clarkson on that street."

"Ah! Here's one. At number ten, Evarts Street lives a Derek Clarkson, but there's no entry in the Teleson book."

"Thank you. That's very helpful."

I retired to my cubbyhole to use the teleson. I contacted my head office to speak with my Supervising agent, Edwin Crownfield. When he heard my news, he told me that there were some points that needed looking into and that he would get back to me.

I called the White House Library to request a large scale map of Washington. When it arrived, I found much to my surprise that Evarts Street was not one but four streets. It looked as though it had been one continuous street at some time in the past. Now it was split up by subsequent developments. This included a cemetery, a railroad and a jog caused by commercial buildings. The two Clarksons lived in the two end sections of Evarts Street.