'them', I presume is the Komitet Gosudarst-venoi Bezopasnosti?'
'That's by no means certain, Theodore.'
Nothing was certain, that was the trouble. All he had was an elaborate house of cards built on only partially interlocking theories. But as he drove back to the office Audley felt fairly satisfied. He had set things moving for which he did not have to account to Stocker: Jake would dig further out of sheer curiosity, and anything Theodore turned up could be cross-checked in the Israeli Berlin files as well as the London ones. If only he had one good hard fact to convince himself that it was all worthwhile . . .
Without that one hard fact, however, there was really nothing he could do. Butler was hard at work in Belgium; half an hour with Roskill should be long enough to work out Monday's schedule.
There was no point in rushing things, and he could look forward to a blessedly peaceful weekend. Even the presence of the Steerforth-Jones girl seemed acceptable now. It made a change to have a girl about the house again, even though she hardly qualified as a girl-friend. She might even cook Sunday lunch!
Even the department was reassuringly empty, with Mrs Harlin's chair unoccupied, a certain sign of the absence of external crises.
dummy4
On such a quiet Saturday as this Lord George Germain had lost the American colonies–and well lost them, too, in the interest of his long weekends.
He tiptoed past Fred's door and slipped into his own room noiselessly.
Stocker, the man from the JIG, was sitting in the armchair opposite the door.
'Good morning, Audley. I hope you don't mind me lying in wait for you like this in your room, but I wanted to get to you first. Have you made any progress?'
Audley composed his face. 'Here and there,' he said guardedly. 'It's rather early days yet for anything concrete -if there is anything.'
Stocker gave him a thin, satisfied smile.
'Well, I can give you something nice and hard: Nikolai Panin's coming to see you.'
Audley carefully set his brief-case alongside the desk, undipped it and drew out the Steerforth file. It never did to let anyone throw you. Or to show it when they did. Friend or enemy, the same rule applied.
But if Panin was coming to England, then the thing -whatever it was–must truly be in England and could be found. Until now he had never quite believed in his own theory: it had been a mere intellectual exercise in probabilities. Now it was all true because it had to be.
'You don't seem very surprised.' Stocker sounded disappointed.
The devil tempted Audley, but only momentarily. There were dummy4
times to take undue credit, but assumed coolness was usually more highly regarded than omniscience.
'On the contrary,' he replied mildly. 'I'd rather discounted the possibility. But then we've got twenty years of lost ground to make up. He didn't say what he wanted of me by any chance?'
Stocker sat back, seemingly reassured by Audley's fallibility.
'Actually he doesn't know yet that he'll be meeting you, so you have one small advantage at least. To be precise we've simply been informed that a certain Prof. N. A. Panin, a distinguished member of the Central Committee, would like to visit England informally, in a semi-official capacity. Apparently he wants to discuss 'a matter of mutual interest' with what they term 'an official of appropriate seniority'.'
'That hardly describes me. It might describe you.'
Stocker laughed shortly. 'It had the Foreign Office a little baffled, I think. Indeed, they were all too ready to agree that it was more our concern than theirs. Their Mr Llewelyn actually suggested that this might be very much up your street — I believe he's a friend of yours?'
God help the Israelis, thought Audley. And Allah protect the poor Arabs too.
'Anyway, I'm going to lay down a welcome mat for our distinguished visitor, Audley. And then you are going to take over from me. You are going to show the professor all the sights of interest.'
They had it all worked out: mark the mysterious Professor Panin dummy4
with the inconvenient Audley. No matter that Audley isn't trained for this sort of thing. What he doesn't know he can't give away.
Or did they really think he could do what no one else had yet done?
'And just what am I expected to do with him?'
'Be nice to him. Find out what he wants and why he wants it. Get to it first. Then give it to him.'
'Give it to him?'
Stocker coughed apologetically. 'The official view is that whatever it is, it's unlikely to be more valuable than his gratitude. If it was valuable to us he'd never come openly asking for help, which is what he appears to be doing. It's thought that one good turn may lead to another.'
'And what do you think?'
'My dear Audley, I've always found gratitude a somewhat intangible thing. But on the whole I go along with the official view. We don't want to offend him if we can help it. We'd like to know a lot more about him, but we don't want him to put one over on us, if you see what I mean.'
Audley didn't–and did to the uttermost degree. Everyone was in the dark.
'But I've got freedom of action?'
'Within all reasonable limits.'
