The Old Vengeful

'Of course. Isn't it always?' Paul started to shrug, then turned the shrug into a little bow. 'And you have pointed us in a promising direction, Professor. We are indebted to dummy3

you . . . But we mustn't take any more of your time.'

'Yes.' Aske stood up in turn, taking his cue from Paul.

'Elizabeth,' commanded Paul.

'Yes.' She stood up obediently, but she was conscious that something had happened which she had missed, only she had no idea what it was.

Belperron stood up behind his desk, unnaturally tall. For a moment he seemed undecided as to what to say. Then he returned the bow. 'I will be interested to hear from you, Dr Mitchell. We must keep in touch,' he said stiffly.

'Absolutely right—we must keep in touch!' Paul's enthusiasm was as false as the Professor's height. 'Please don't bother—we'll see our way out—'

Aske was already opening the door. Elizabeth found herself sidling through it almost crab-wise.

'Most grateful, Professor—' she heard Paul say as she collided with one of the chairs in the second ante- room.

Paul closed the door behind him. 'Is there a back-entrance, Aske?'

'Christ! I don't know!' said Aske.

'What's happening?' said Elizabeth.

Paul went to the window. 'There's something not right about this.'

Aske nodded. 'I agree. Definitely not right.'

'I don't understand—' Elizabeth heard her own voice crack.

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'What—?'

'Can you see anything?' said Aske. And then, when Paul merely shook his head, he turned to Elizabeth. 'He didn't ask enough questions—he gave us too much, much too easily—he was scared, if you ask me—' he switched to Paul '—right?'

'And he's not the only one, by God!' murmured Paul, still craning his neck at the window.

'Scared?' Whatever they'd seen, she hadn't caught the slightest glimpse of it. But now she was joining the club to which they both belonged.

'There has to be a back-entrance,' said Aske decisively.

'Let's get out while we can, Mitchell . . . I'll go first—that's what I'm bloody-well paid for—'

He took two steps towards the door, but it opened before he could grasp the handle, and he skipped back as though it had tried to sting him.

Elizabeth was simultaneously aware of Aske jumping back, and Paul turning from the window towards the open door, and of her own frozen immobility.

And of what was in the doorway.

'Nikki!' exclaimed Paul. 'What a delightful surprise!'

XIII

EMERALD GREEN—emerald green was by any reckoning a dangerous colour for a woman to attempt.

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But this woman could get away with it, with her pale complexion and the flaming red hair—except that it wasn't red, thought Elizabeth enviously, but that painter's colour which stopped the man who'd been talking to you in mid-sentence and made him lose the thread of what he was saying.

' Nikki!' The second time Paul managed to substitute pleasure for surprise. 'How delightful!'

The woman in the doorway gave him a cold smile.

'Captain . . . Mitchell, is it?' The eyes took in Aske, and dismissed him; and then took in Elizabeth, and lingered on her for just half a second longer— the eyes were green too, damn it!—and then dropped her, coming back to Paul. 'It's been a long time, Captain—six years?'

'Seven, more like—since Hameau Ridge, Nikki—far too long!' He wasn't pretending his regret: even the best liar couldn't electrify his lie so well. 'We should have contrived a Hameau Ridge Old Comrades' Reunion ages ago.'

Mid-thirties, decided Elizabeth critically. But still almost flawless, and seven years ago didn't bear thinking about.

'But what brings you here?' This time there was a slight loss of conviction in Paul's voice.

'You do—as you well know.'

' I do?' He frowned. 'But why? What am I supposed to have done now?' The frown deepened. 'You're not going to tell me that this is . . . official?'

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'Official—what?' said Aske. 'What's going on?'

'What indeed!' Paul gestured helplessly. 'I'm sorry, Humphrey—and Elizabeth . . . but this, apparently, is Mademoiselle Nicole MacMahon, of the French security service—which bit of it I'm not quite sure.' His voice tightened as he spoke. 'But if this is official business then I don't need to introduce my friends to you, Nikki, because you'll already know who they are . . . Only, as for what's going on—I'd like to know that, too.'