Audley sighed. Maybe he did have that flair. It would be easier to admit an inspired hunch than to explain that he could look between the lines of this material to see the gaps in the narrative, the sudden thinness of the material, the changes of style, the tiny inconsistencies of editing. All of which suggested the removal of something too intriguing to be left to the common gaze.

dummy4

He looked to Fred for support.

'Quite right too,' said Fred. 'You shall see it. Stocker only wanted to know—'

'—I only wanted to see Audley pull a rabbit out of his hat.' Stocker smiled, and was transformed by his smile from a faceless JIC man into a human being. Audley felt that he had been small-minded and pompous.

'And you did pull a rabbit out. Only it was not the one I expected.

I'm sorry to have played fast and loose with you. Sir Frederick warned me. But the missing bits don't concern Steerforth, I assure you. You'll still have to find out about him for yourself. Which I believe Sir Frederick is arranging for you.

'On which note I will bid you good morning. It has been a pleasure to see you at work, even if only briefly. But I shall be seeing you again soon.'

Audley could only blush, and shake the hand thrust out to him.

Then Stocker was gone, and the atmosphere lightened perceptibly.

Audley observed that both Butler and Roskill were grinning.

'I really cannot understand,' said Fred, 'why the JIG always produces threat reactions in you people–even in you, David.'

There was no point in suggesting that Fred himself had formalised the conference in Stocker's presence by dropping all the Christian names he usually affected. He probably intended to foster the JIG

mystique, not reduce it.

'It has a perfectly reasonable co-ordinating function, which you all know perfectly well. But no matter. Have you any more immediate dummy4

questions?

Roskill stirred. 'One thing–only I don't quite know how to put it.

This Russian interest, after all these years–couldn't it be just a case of bureaucratic obsession?'

'And we could be making a fuss about nothing? Or something that has become nothing? It could be, Hugh, it could be. But if it isn't–

then it could be rather interesting. Weighing the possibilities, I think we have to go ahead, at least for the time being.'

'Have you got any more questions, David?'

'I have–yes. But not about Steerforth. First, if it is decided that I must attend his funeral–I must assume it is his funeral–I must be allowed to have my breakfast first. I cannot go to a funeral on an empty stomach. Second —'

Fred held up his hand.

'David, I do apologise. You shall breakfast with me in a few moments. Mrs Harlin has the matter in hand. And then you will be going to the funeral–you've got the transport laid on, Hugh?'

'8.45 from here, Sir Frederick. It's a good two hours to Asham.

We'll pick up the other car in Wantage.'

'Very good. And you're concentrating on locating the original cast, Jack?'

Butler nodded. 'Mostly routine, but it may take a little time. They may be all dead, except the Joneses.'

'I hope not for all our sakes. In the meantime, gentlemen, I have some explaining to do, I believe, for Dr Audley's benefit. I'll excuse you that.'

dummy4

The departure of Roskill and Butler cued in Mrs Harlin, with breakfast. And breakfast conceived on a scale which shattered Audley. The condemned man's meal, or at least one designed to give an elderly vicar strength to go out to evangelise the Hottentots.

Before they had even sat down Fred moved to forestall argument.

'I know you're not a field man, David. But I don't see this quite as a field assignment. More an intellectual exercise in human archaeology.'

'But I deal with words, Fred, not people. I'm no good at interrogating. I don't know how to start.'

Fred snorted.

'Absolute nonsense. You interrogate our people all the time.

Extremely closely, too, if what I hear is true.'

'I know them. That makes it different. Get me the reports on this as they come in. I'll do the job just as well that way–probably better.

But why me, anyway? I'm a Middle East man.'

Fred lowered his knife and fork.

'And a damned unpopular Middle Eastern man, too.'

Audley stopped eating too. Here was the truth at last.

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