The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared

think.
    ‘And then what happened?’ he asked, as he had to say something.
    Allan thought it best not to miss out too many details now that a president was asking him. So he told him about Vladivostok, about Marshal Meretskov, about Kim Il Sung, about Kim Jong Il, about Stalin’s fortunate death, about Mao Tse-tung, about a pile of dollars that Mao had been so kind as to supply him with, about the calm life on Bali and about the not so calm life on Bali, and finally about his journey to Paris.
    ‘That’s about all, I think,’ said Allan. ‘But with all this talking I’ve become really parched.’
    The president ordered some more beer, but added that a person who spilled atomic secrets in a state of inebriation ought to consider becoming a teetotaller. Then he asked:
    ‘You had a fifteen-year-long holiday, financed by Mao Tse-tung?’
    ‘Yes. Sort of. Really it was Chiang Kai-shek’s money, and he had got it from our mutual friend Harry Truman. Now that you mention it, Mr President, perhaps I ought to phone Harry and thank him.’
    President Johnson had enormous problems with the knowledge that the bearded and long-haired man opposite him had given Stalin the Bomb. And had lived a life of leisure paid for by American foreign aid. And on top of it all, you could now faintly hear how demonstrators on the street outside the embassy were shouting: ‘USA out of Vietnam! USA out of Vietnam!’ Johnson sat there in silence, his face a picture of misery.
    Meanwhile, Allan emptied his glass while he studied the worried face of the American president.
    ‘Can I be of any help?’ he asked.
    ‘What did you say?’ President Johnson said, deep in his own thoughts.
    ‘Can I be of any help?’ Allan repeated. ‘The president looks dreadful. Perhaps he needs some help?’
    President Johnson was on the point of asking Allan Karlsson to win the Vietnam War for him, but then he returned to reality and what he saw before him again was the man who gave the Bomb to Stalin.
    ‘Yes, you can do one thing for me,’ said President Johnson in a tired voice. ‘You can leave.’
     
    Allan said thank you for the dinner, and went on his way, leaving behind President Johnson and the European CIA director, the oh so secret Ryan Hutton.
    Lyndon B. Johnson was horrified at the way Allan Karlsson’s visit had developed. First such a nice start but then Karlsson sat there and admitted he had given the Bomb not only to the USA but also to Stalin. Stalin! The communist of communists!
    ‘Now, Hutton,’ said President Johnson. ‘What should we do? Shall we pick up that damned Karlsson again and boil him in oil?’
    ‘Yes,’ said secret agent Hutton. ‘Either that or we could make sure to put him to good use.’
     
    Secret agent Hutton was not only secret, he was also well-read on most things of politically strategic interest from the perspective of the CIA. For example, he was very well aware of the existence of the physicist that Allan Karlsson had had such a pleasant drinking session with on the submarine between Sweden and Leningrad. Yury Borisovich Popov had made quite a career from 1949 onwards. And his first big break might very well have been thanks to the information that Allan Karlsson had delivered — in fact it was highly likely that such was thecase. Now, Popov was sixty-three years old and technical director of the entire atomic arsenal of the Soviet Union. As such, he had knowledge that was so valuable to the USA that you couldn’t even put a price on it.
    If the USA could find out what Popov knew and thereby determine whether the West was in advance of the East when it came to atomic weapons – well, then President Johnson could take the initiative to mutual disarmament. And the path to such knowledge went via – Allan Karlsson.
    ‘You want to make Karlsson an American agent?’ said President Johnson while he thought about how some serious disarmament could do a great deal of good for how he would be remembered as a president, regardless of that damned war in Vietnam.
    ‘Yes, exactly,’ said secret agent Hutton.
    ‘And why would Karlsson go along with that?’
    ‘Well… because… he seems the type. And just a moment ago he sat there and asked the president if there was anything he could do to help.’
    ‘Yes,’ said President Johnson. ‘He actually did.’
    The president was silent again for a few moments. Then he said:
    ‘I think I need a strong drink.’
     
    Initially, the French government’s