October Men

honour was a nice touch: Ruelle despised it, but he naturally trusted it nevertheless. I assume that was David's idea?'

Richardson nodded, poker-faced.

Sir Frederick nodded back. 'Yes—David wanted his woman back, and he didn't much care how he did it. But he had to offer each of them something they couldn't resist in exchange. So of course he offered them each other.'

Clever David. No word of honour for him; he played dirty just like Little Bird, and for the same driving personal reason. But that had been where Ruelle had underestimated his man: he'd reckoned David would do anything to get his woman back, but he'd miscalculated the vengeful limits of David's anything.

'David had a deal for everyone, in fact.'

'But he also took the risk for everyone if it went wrong—and he was careful to cut you out of that, Peter.'

Perhaps that had been part of the deal too, thought Richardson perversely: maybe David had calculated that what Sir Frederick himself couldn't resist was that ultimate acceptance of responsibility. Or was it more simply that he couldn't face surviving anything less than success this time?

Was that courage—or cowardice?

'And yet he took Montuori's man with him—instead of me?'

'That was to make it easier for Montuori if things went dummy2

wrong, Peter. It would have looked bad if Ruelle had started shooting and there hadn't been an Italian casualty. . . . But you still haven't told me what actually happened on the road

—'

On the road . . .

The mountain road had been hot and bumpy, and the dust from the Police jeep ahead had blown in through the window.

And he had still not really understood, and hadn't wanted to travel with the General, only David had made it plain that he wanted to be alone with his wife. . . .

'A crude fellow, but fortunately rather stupid,' murmured the General at length.

He made it sound like an epitaph, thought Richardson.

'Now the man Hotzendorff, your Little Bird, he was not a crude fellow—to make a killing by dying to order! In fact for a German he was a man of quite remarkable imagination and I'm sorry not to have known him. . . . But then the prospect of extinction is said to have a sharpening effect on the mind, although that doesn't seem to have sharpened the Bastard's wits, I must say!'

The Police jeep was slowing down: there was a confusion of cars on the bend ahead.

'I thought you'd pulled off the roadblocks, Pietro?'

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Boselli peered ahead distractedly. 'I gave the orders, General.'

'Well, kindly go and see they are carried out. I have an appointment in Rome this evening.'

Boselli slid out of the car and marched self-consciously towards the roadblock.

The General sat back. 'Yes, a man of remarkable imagination. . . . You know, I wasn't going to tell Narva about him, but on reflection I think I shall. It will wound his pride, but that woman of Hotzendorff's is much too fine to waste—

she has good hips—and I think he's inhibited by his conscience, poor fool. Once he knows the truth there'll be no holding him. Besides—I rather like the idea of completing your Little Bird's work for him.'

The General in the role of Cupid was an arresting thought which sustained Richardson until Boselli returned.

He looked oddly flustered.

'Well?'

'General—it is not a roadblock. There has been an accident.'

'Indeed?'

'A car has gone over the edge, into the gorge. A car with four men in it—a pale green car—'

'A road accident,' said the General dismissively. 'Then there's no reason for us to be delayed. Get back there and tell them to clear the way.'

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'But there is a peasant who says there was a lorry—' Boselli stopped as he saw the General's expression, swallowing the words quickly. 'Yes, General.'

For one elongated moment of realisation Richardson stared after him. Then he looked at the General accusingly.

'You gave them your word.'

'I did,' said the General.

'And now they're dead?'

'Very likely. But not at my hands, Captain—I gave my word.'

The General was entirely relaxed, the very model of a cleanhanded, conscience-clear General. Yet one who had somehow contrived to pay all his debts in full, damn it!