brings you here?'
'Sir.' Weston straightened up deferentially. 'We're pursuing inquiries into certain matters.'
This was a new Weston, subtly altered: it was Weston playing himself on television, not as he really was, but as the viewers might imagine him.
'Well, I didn't think you were paying a social call.' Role for role, Audley played back. 'The 'certain matters' are Sergeant Digby, I take it.'
'That's correct, Dr. Audley.'
Audley pointed towards Nayler. 'And just what has Professor Nayler got to do with him, may I ask?'
'That's for us to decide, if you don't mind, sir.'
'But I do mind. I mind very much.' It occurred to Audley that he was overplaying more than Weston was, but there was no help for it. 'I'm not having you trampling around in this matter like a bull in a china shop. And I'm not having dummy5
distinguished scholars like Professor Nayler bullied like this, either.'
Weston gave a half-strangled grunt, the sort of baffled noise which Jack Butler produced in moments of excessive official stupidity. The brutish sergeant's face was a picture of perplexed ferocity: nothing like this had ever happened to him.
'I'm sorry, Professor,' Audley turned towards Nayler. 'There seems to have been some misunderstanding somewhere down the line. These officers will be leaving now.'
Nayler was having the same trouble as the sergeant in adjusting to events; for once words failed him.
'Well, sir ... we have our duty to do.' Weston was retreating in good order with his face to the foe, but clearly retreating nevertheless. 'I shall have to consult my superiors about this . . . Sergeant!'
The sergeant gave him an appalled look and backed unwillingly out of the door which Audley held open for him.
'You do that, Superintendent,' said Audley. 'And you'd better tell them they should consult the Home Office before they try this sort of tactics next time.'
He closed the door on them and lent against it thankfully, watching Nayler through half-closed eyes as he did so. This was the moment when the casting of his next role would be decided: it was up to Nayler to reward his deliverer or to remember old enmities.
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'What an extraordinary bizarre episode,' said Nayler to no one in particular. 'I wouldn't have thought it possible.'
No sign of gratitude, thought Audley. The man was quickly adjusting his self-esteem again as though nothing had happened, putting Weston's visit out of his mind as though it had been no more real than a nightmare.
'Yes. ...' Nayler wrinkled his nose and compressed his lips.
'Quite extraordinary. And now, what do you want, Audley?'
No gratitude for sure. Time had dealt too kindly with the bastard: where better men had lost their figures and their hair, Nayler's lankiness had aged into an acceptable scholarly stoop to which his thick pepper-and-salt thatch added distinction. Only that petulant mouth and the words which came out of it were unchanged.
'Well, Audley?' Nayler raised an eyebrow interrogatively. 'I haven't got all night.'
The hard way, then. And it was going to be a rare pleasure.
'You haven't got any time at all.' Audley came away from the door. 'You're in trouble, Nayler.'
'What?' Nayler frowned. 'What?'
'I said you're in trouble. Big trouble.'
'And I don't like your tone.' The lips compressed tighter.
'You are beginning to sound like those—those two thugs masquerading as policemen, Audley.'
'Oh, I'm not the same as them, don't make that mistake.'
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'I don't intend to, I assure you. Now— say what you came to say and get out.' Nayler waved his hand in a jerky, insulting little gesture of dismissal. 'I have work to do.'
'Very well. I believe you spoke to Henry Digby recently.'
'I spoke to the fellow—yes—if that's his name.'
'It was his name. Sergeant Henry Digby. He's dead now.'
'So I gather. But that's absolutely no concern of mine. I spoke to the fellow about purely academic matters.'
Audley felt his blood pressure rising, heated and reheated by the repetition of
'You spoke to Sergeant Digby about Standingham and the gold.' With an effort Audley kept his voice neutral. 'Now . . .
could you please tell me what you told him, Professor?'
Nayler gazed at Audley for a moment, old memories flickering in his eyes. 'Frankly, Audley, I don't see why I should.'
'I see.' Audley nodded humbly. 'Professor, I explained that I wasn't the same as the police—'
