‘How many armoured divisions has the Pope got?’, as Stalin said—was it Stalin?” He twisted a lop-sided smile, unsmiling, at Benedikt. “But our priority is over there—” he pointed “—past the DD-Sherman with its skirts right up, over by dummy1
the Tunisian Tiger. Okay?”
Benedikt nodded, and followed the Englishman dumbly into the labyrinth. One thing was certain, he thought: if there ever was another day for him here, it would not be David Audley who presided over it. For some reason— perhaps to get rid of those juvenile spies without argument—it suited the man to set up a rendezvous here. But the place was still too painful for any casual visit.
But now Audley was moving purposefully ahead of him down the aisle, ignoring his surroundings. Only when he was half-way down the hangar, level with a cross-aisle, did he pause for Benedikt to catch up.
“We are meeting someone?” The question sounded foolish, but he qualified it by looking about him at the other visitors thronging the museum. So far as he could observe they consisted mostly of family groups, with the fathers showing off their knowledge to their sons and the bored mothers more concerned with the whereabouts of stragglers.
“Trust me.” Audley answered without answering, moving down the side-aisle. “That’s my old tank, the Cromwell. Would have been good in the desert in ‘42 ... bloody death-trap in the Normandy bocage in ’44—not too safe against your old Mark IVs, and suicide against those big sods over there . . . unless you could find one all by itself and get in a shot from the rear. . . which I certainly never did.”
Audley was nodding down another aisle, directly ahead of him, at a sinister desert-yellow Tiger facing them.
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“Head-on—that’s not the way to say ‘hullo’ to a Tiger.” Audley shivered. “One of your chaps—a bright lad named Wittmann—
bagged a whole squadron of London Yeomanry outside Villers Bocage with just this one Tiger of his, so we were told. And apparently he’d already got over a hundred Russian tanks on his score-card—he must have been the Richthofen of his team. ”He eyed the Tiger silently for a moment. “They used to start up with a sort of cough . . . quite distinctive. Once heard, never forgotten, but not wanted to be heard again—”
“Hullo there, David.” The voice which cut off Audley’s reverie came from behind them. “Telling how David slew Goliath?”
Benedikt turned towards the voice.
“Why—hullo, friendly cousin!” Audley greeted the newcomer with cheerful innocence. “Good to see you.”
“A pleasure shared, as always.” Smooth black hair, thin moustache . . . swarthy, almost Mexican complexion . . . and the dark eyes were fixed on Benedikt, appraising him frankly. “You have a friend, I see.” The voice, by contrast, was mid-Atlantic rather than trans-Atlantic, educated American.
“A friend
“Is that so?” The American continued to scrutinise Benedikt. “But additional to our deal, maybe?”
Audley gave a tiny shrug. “Additionally necessary, say. But I have thrown in a little more to balance him. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
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“Hell—I’m sure I won’t, at that!” The American flashed white teeth at the Englishman. “It’s just that my ... acquaintance back there may not find your allied friend and colleague so easy to take on board, that’s all—no offence, allied friend and colleague.” He gave Benedikt a share of the teeth. “Just ... I get this feeling he already wishes he didn’t owe me so many favours.”
“He’s nervous, you mean?” Audley contrived to mix innocence and satisfaction in the question. “But not on account of me, surely?”
The American considered Audley coolly. “On account of you . . .
maybe a little. He doesn’t know you as well as I do, I guess.” He paused. “On account of what he’s gotten for you . . . about which, because of our agreement, I have not as yet inquired, you understand ... on account of that, I think he now knows something he’d rather not know.”
“Ah!” Audley’s satisfaction increased. “That’s good.”
“Good isn’t his word for it. In fact, it took all my powers of persuasion to get him down here today. It seems he’s conceived a sudden urge to visit his second cousin in Boston—an overwhelming urge to be somewhere else for the time being—to get away from it all... You know the feeling?”
“I know the feeling.” Audley smiled. “So you’ll just have to use your charm—or whatever—again, won’t you?”
Another cool look. “Seems that way.”
“Which would bring benefits all round, remember.”
“All round?”
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“To you and me all round. It’s all waiting for you at the usual place, what you want—plus the bonus on behalf of my colleague here. All pure and unadulterated.”
The American came to his decision. “Okay, David. You can have him. Half an hour, no more—and don’t frighten him if you can help it, he’s not a bad guy. Just give me a minute to convince him.”
“Agreed. I’ll be sweetness and light itself.”
“And I get this too . . . whatever it is ... in due course?”
“If it concerns you—yes.”
“Fair enough.” The American acknowledged Benedikt. “Watch yourself with this English gentleman, friendly ally.
