The silver-haired man, whom Avedissian took to be 'Sir Michael', opened a file in front of him and moved his glasses to the tip of his nose before shuffling his way through a pile of papers and apparently back again. 'Let me see now…' he muttered, beginning the process all over again.
Avedissian noticed Bryant move impatiently in his seat and saw him raise his eyes briefly to the ceiling. The other two remained impassive but Avedissian was aware that they were watching him. The knowledge made him determined to maintain a sphinx-like expression.
'Ah, here we are,' said Sir Michael. 'Mark Avedissian, age thirty-seven, married with no children. Wife deceased. Three years with Her Majesty's Forces, commissioned, served with the Parachute Regiment, resigned commission to enter medical school, graduated third in class in 1973, specialised in paediatrics, last position, consultant paediatrician, St Jude's Hospital, Southampton. Bit of a change, army to medicine, what?'
Avedissian remained silent.
'Care to tell us why?'
'No,' replied Avedissian.
‘Too tough for you, Avedissian?' asked Bryant, attracting a sidelong glance from Sir Michael who cleared his throat in disapproval and continued before Avedissian felt obliged to reply.
'Convicted of administering a lethal dose of barbiturates to one Michael Fielding, a patient in your care… Parents and judge sympathetic to your motives but law has to be upheld… Short prison sentence and removal from the Medical Register… Subsequent employment as a medical representative with… several companies in fact. Would you agree that that is an accurate, if superficial, account of your curriculum vitae, Doctor?'
Avedissian agreed that it was.
Bryant said abrasively, 'You have been sacked from five companies in the last two years, Avedissian.'
'Yes.'
'Is that all?' demanded Bryant. 'Just 'yes'?'
'Why am I here?' asked Avedissian, seething inwardly but outwardly remaining calm.
Sir Michael looked as if he were about to reply but Bryant got there first. 'Good question,' he snorted and sat back in his seat. He stared down at the desk pad in front of him.
Sir Michael looked briefly at Bryant before turning to Avedissian and saying, 'We think that you may be able to help us.'
'How?'
'First we have to ask you some questions.'
Avedissian sighed slightly but then nodded.
'Why did you leave the army?'
'It wasn't for me.'
'You were a first-class officer with a promising career.'
Bryant showed signs of impatience again and interrupted Sir Michael's leisurely approach. 'You decided it wasn't for you after you were sent to Northern Ireland. Isn't that right?'
'I did serve in Northern Ireland,' agreed Avedissian.
'And you lost your nerve.'
'No.'
'Oh, became a pacifist did we? Got all moist-eyed over the bleeding hearts in the Emerald Isle did we?' sneered Bryant.
'I did not become a pacifist,' said Avedissian with a levelness of tone that seemed to annoy Bryant even more.
'Perhaps killing babies is more your style, Avedissian?'
'Why you son of a bitch I'll
Bryant leaned back in his seat and grinned with self- satisfaction. 'So you're not a complete wimp after all, Avedissian. Good to know.'
Sir Michael seemed embarrassed at Bryant's psychological game. Stapleton and Carlisle remained impassive.
'Your wife committed suicide?' asked Carlisle.
'Yes.'
'How do you feel about that?'
'That's a bloody stupid question.'
Carlisle ignored the comment and asked, 'Any dependent relations?'
'None.'
'How would you like to practise medicine again, Doctor?' asked Sir Michael.
Avedissian was angry. 'Just what is this bloody farce?' he demanded. 'You know damned well that I can never practise again. It's against the law.'
Sir Michael took off his glasses and sat back in his chair. He looked into the distance over Avedissian's shoulder and said, 'In any society, Doctor, it is essential that people be subject to the law. However, there will always be a criminal element who ignore it and, at the other extreme, there will always be the necessity for a small group of people who are not entirely subject to every nuance and letter of it.'
There was a long silence in the room while words kept sticking in Avedissian's throat. When he did finally manage to interpret what he had been told he cleared his throat and said, in acute embarrassment, 'Am I being recruited into the Intelligence Services?' He thought it sounded like a bad line from a village hall play and was relieved when no one laughed.
'In a manner of speaking,’ said Sir Michael.
Avedissian felt as if he were alone on a tightrope, the butt of some tasteless joke. In an effort to defend himself he said, 'I am, or rather was, a paediatrician. I am thirty-seven years old, heterosexual and I am not a graduate of this university. That, I would have thought disqualified me on all counts.'
The four men at the table remained impassive. Sir Michael said, 'We have need of a doctor, you are a doctor and you are available. The fact that you have served with the armed forces has some bearing on our choice.'
'Why do you need a doctor?'
'I can't tell you.'
'If you are looking for someone to feed Scopolamine to Russian spies then it isn't me.'
'No Russian spies.'
'And if I say no?'
'Then you can go back to becoming an aimless drunk,' rasped Bryant.
A spark of anger flared in Avedissian but he controlled it, for whatever way he looked at it, the comment was not without foundation. 'Very well, I agree,' he said.
'You will now sign this,' said Stapleton, bringing out a document from his briefcase. 'It's the Official Secrets Act.'
Avedissian signed and said, 'Now can you tell me what this is all about?'
'Not yet,' answered Sir Michael, collecting his papers and getting up to leave. 'Mr Bryant will tell you all you need to know for the moment,' and with that, he, Stapleton and Carlisle were gone.
Avedissian was left alone in the room with Bryant who said, 'You will not be returning to your home. Your things will be collected and brought to you. Miss Milek will give you your instructions.'
As the door closed behind Bryant, Avedissian felt hopelessly alone and filled with foreboding about what he had let himself in for. He crossed to the window and looked down at the courtyard to see a black saloon disappear through an arch. The sun shone on the cobbles and it was quiet, deathly quiet.
Sarah Milek came into the room and joined him at the window. 'Welcome aboard,' she said softly.
'Do people really say that?' asked Avedissian, still looking out of the window.
'When they can't think of anything else.'
Avedissian turned to face her and said, 'I'm sorry, that was rude.'
'Don't mention it. I understand life has not been treating you too kindly, and now this…' said Sarah Milek.
'What exactly is 'this'?' asked Avedissian.
I'm sorry. I can't tell you any more than I've been instructed to.'
'Which is?'
