October Men

exactly the opposite of what the General had said: But we don't want any political trouble with the English. We're going to need them to keep that wild man Mintoff in line if he gets to power in Malta.

'In fact he expects the very fullest co-operation now, Captain Richardson.'

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'Not 'captain', if you don't mind, signore,' said Richardson.

At last he was no longer smiling.

'Signor Richardson.' Boselli smiled. He might not have to surrender after all. 'The fullest co-operation.'

'By that I take it you mean a two-way exchange of information?'

'We have no information to exchange. We did not initiate this affair, as I have already pointed out.'

'I see.' Richardson nodded, regarding Boselli reflectively.

Then he turned away to the left as the car came out of a cutting through the dark-grey volcanic rock. 'Monte Vesuvio's hiding himself today, I see. But he's still there all right. He's still there.'

Boselli frowned at him, nonplussed.

'You know my family—my mother's family—came from these parts?' said Richardson conversationally.

Boselli nodded as Richardson turned to him.

'Of course you would. A big family it was, but not so big now.

Too many of the men developed the bad habit of getting themselves killed. But we once had vineyards from here to Ravello—red and white Vesuvio, and Ischia and Avellino.

Now only the Ravello vineyards are left, I think. And a pottery at Salerno. . . . And one of my second cousins has a machine-tool works at Torre Annunziata on the right there somewhere. It was his father who used to say that Monte Vesuvio sometimes hid himself, but he was always there.' He dummy2

turned back towards the mist-shrouded volcano. 'Have you picked up David Audley, then?'

Boselli thought quickly, but could find no objection to answering.

'Yes.'

Richardson nodded. 'Where did you pick him up?'

'Does it matter?'

'I'd be interested to know. At one of the autostrada toll stations, I'd guess—near Naples, maybe?'

'Salerno.'

'Salerno! He must have been pushing it, but that figures. ...

So in effect we gave him to you.'

'There was a general call out for him, Captain Richardson.'

'Signor. But we told you—Sir Frederick told your boss—

where he was heading, so we gave him to you. That's what I call full cooperation. And you know who he was going to see?'

Boselli nodded cautiously. He had the feeling that the haze was about to lift from Monte Vesuvio—and that there might be smoke coming from the crater.

'Narva. Signor Eugenio Narva. Pillar of the Establishment and the Christian Democrats and the Church. Founder and master of Narva Enterprises from the Persian Gulf to Bonnie Aberdeen. Chief shareholder in Xenophon Oil and Singer and Bailey and Enfield Alloys and other companies too dummy2

numerous to mention, plus a finger in North Sea offshore block allocations 311/26, 312/6, 315/4. A very busy fellow, Signor Narva is—I'm sure you've heard of him, Signor Boselli.'

Richardson grinned again at Boselli. 'You know what happens to Romans who come South, signore—they're no good to the Calabrians because the Neapolitans have taken all their money from them as they pass through. That's why Calabria is so poor. But I'm only half from these parts, so I'll be nice to you—I'll tell you why we are so interested in Narva.

'You see, I'm afraid your General has gone off at halfcock—

we didn't initiate this affair, as you put it. We were only very gently enquiring—and Dr. Audley was doing nothing more than that—about a bit of industrial espionage in which Signor Narva indulged a few years ago. And a very nasty bit of industrial espionage, too—you could even drop the

'industrial' part of it if you liked. The sort of thing that'd raise unpleasant questions in our Parliament.'

Boselli experienced a queasy feeling below the belt.

'The sort of thing—your boss was quite right there—the sort of thing that could have grave repercussions, not just in NATO but in the Common Market negotiations. In fact you're dead lucky that my boss is a Common Market man, otherwise our anti-marketeers would be having a field day now.'

We don't want any political trouble with the English: the sick feeling worsened. Between them Narva and the General dummy2

represented an appalling range of political and professional problems, never mind Ruelle and these English, who between them personified danger.

'So just don't go on thinking you can call all the shots just because you've got Dr. Audley,' Richardson went on coolly.