War Game

pikemen to recover surreptitiously and rejoin their regiments as reinforcements. Death in the early stages of a Double R

Society battle was clearly a tidy and economical business.

'But I'm not going to bore you with what you already know, lad. Your treason doesn't interest me any more— nor the murders you've ordered either. It's my treason that interests me now—and the next killing. And my gold.'

Charlie Ratcliffe grunted derisively. 'So it's your gold now, is it?' He shook his head.

'My gold—yes.'

'Oh, no ... I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about with your treason and your killing, and all that —

hogwash. . . . But when it comes to gold at least I can begin to understand you. And the answer is—go take a running jump at yourself, fuzz.'

'You haven't heard the deal yet.'

'I don't need to.' Charlie's confidence was reasserting itself, despite the arm-grip. 'I should have expected greedy fuzz —

or whatever you are. Just because you've got a good imagination you think you can make things awkward for me, so I have to buy you off—is that it?'

'I've got a lot more than a good imagination.'

'No way.' Charlie shook his head. 'Your bunch would like to dummy5

smear me, I know that. But it takes proof to do that, and proof is what you haven't got. And the same goes for blackmail on the side— I'll enjoy giving you a paragraph or two all to yourself in my next issue, Colonel Hog. Not that it'll surprise anyone— crooked fuzz working for a crooked establishment.'

'You think I'm bluffing?'

'I think I'd like you to let go of my bloody arm—you're hurting me almost as much as you're boring me.'

Audley held the pressure steady. 'That's because you don't listen, Charlie lad. That's one trouble with you—you talk, but you don't listen. And another trouble is ... you're not nearly as clever as you think you are.'

'I have trouble figuring out how pigs think—if they do—

ouch!'

'That's enough now. Just listen . . . I have a deal for you and I have proof for you—and the proof is in the deal. Listen!'

His urgency transmitted itself at last. Charlie Ratcliffe stared fixedly into the valley, where the Roundhead musketeers were beginning to withdraw slowly towards their battle line.

On the Royalist side, under the cover of their own guns, pioneers were carrying bundles of brushwood towards the marshy ground. The next phase of the battle was beginning.

'I don't want your Russian gold, Charlie—you can do whatever mischief you like with it, I don't give a damn.

Because you did your seventeenth-century research just a bit dummy5

too well, but not well enough, that's why—and I did it better.'

Charlie moved uncontrollably, twisting against the pressure.

'What the hell d'you mean by that?'

'I mean, lad—you can keep the Russian gold. And I'll keep the Spanish gold.' Audley released the arm abruptly as he spoke.

Charlie stared at him.

And stared.

Audley nodded slowly, letting himself smile at last. 'That's right . . . I've found it.' He paused to let the words sink in.

'You see, Charlie, you worked it out—you and Professor Nayler worked it out between you.' He paused again. 'But the difference between us was that when you'd worked it out you didn't have to look for it, you just had to work out why it was where you intended to put it ... which you did remarkably well. In fact you had me convinced it was the real thing.

'So when I ... found out where your gold really came from I couldn't resist going back over your evidence again—to see if there was a hole in it somewhere—a weakness. And of course there was.'

Charlie Ratcliffe frowned, and the frown seemed to loosen his tongue at last.

'A weakness—?'

'Oh yes . . . Nayler saw it too, only the gold blinded him to it—

quite understandably. But that isn't the point. The point is—I dummy5

came up with a different answer. The right answer.'

Charlie's tongue had stuck once more: his lips moved, but no word escaped before they closed again.

'That's why I don't want your gold, Charlie. Because—you could say—I've already got your gold.' Audley showed his teeth between the smile. 'Which is really quite amusing, because there isn't a thing you can do about it. I mean . . .