Here Be Monsters

''Hemispherical', the State Department called it. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that they checked Parker again too, and pronounced him pristine. He remembered Thomas from '44, but that was all. Their paths hadn't crossed again.'

'And we cleared Thomas?'

'He was cleared also.' Traces of irritation remained in Latimer's expression. 'And we were duly reminded that he was a D-Day hero who deserved better of his country than to be hounded by inquisitive little men in dirty raincoats.'

'So he was cleared.' The point had to be pressed. 'So what happened then?'

'He resigned… not long afterwards.' Latimer waved his Thornton's hand vaguely.

'Why?' The point still had to be pressed. 'If he'd been cleared - ?'

'He had been cleared. And by that time the whole Debrecen investigation had been aborted.' Another vague gesture. 'He said he wanted to go back to teaching. The Foreign Office blamed us. You must ask Dr Audley - he blamed the Foreign Office.'

That at least sounded like David Audley, whose instinct in adversity was never defensive.

But, as Latimer kept saying, she could ask David about everything in due course. What mattered now was that Latimer expected her to ask him, judging by his expectant expression.

In fact she had a Wimbledon Centre Court queue of questions, all pushing and shoving.

But now a new one had just jostled its way to the very front.

'Yes, Elizabeth?' He played not so idly with the lid of his box.

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'One thing, you said - two things, actually - I don't understand.'

He rubbed the tip of his nose. 'Only two things?'

Supercilious pig! 'You cleared Squadron Leader Thomas. Back in 1958.'

He worked on his nose for a moment. 'He was cleared, certainly. Twice, actually. But not by me.'

That re-emphasized minor matter, in passing: that whatever had gone wrong in 'this wretched business', Oliver St John Latimer was not going to take any past blame.

'And Major Parker was cleared.'

'So he was.' He agreed cautiously. 'By the Americans.'

'Yes.' That was another straw in the wind. Or a bale of straw. 'So how do we know they never met again, before last week?' She sought wisdom as politely as a fourth former catching out her teacher in a spelling mistake. 'They were both cleared - but we've been watching them for twenty-six years? Or have I missed something?'

'Ah…' He opened the box. 'Will you have a chocolate?'

Thank you.' As she selected one he watched her so intently that she wished she knew which was his favourite.

'And I'll have one too.' His smile mortified her as he pounced on his preference gratefully, greedily. 'No… no… No, there, I must admit, I am relying on the Americans, Elizabeth.'

'The Americans didn't abort their original investigation?'

'Uh-uh.' He shook his head, unwilling to swallow his chocolate prematurely. 'It was… it was a joint decision, back in '58. The whole affair had become very messy politically.

Indeed, counter-productive.' He disposed of the chocolate at last. 'There have been faint echoes of Debrecen down the years since then, but never loud enough to justify a reactivation. Until last year, when a rather unpleasant episode occurred in America, involving one of the names on the American list.' The pudgy hand, which had been toying with a brightly-coloured sweet-paper, clenched it. 'A very nasty affair.'

Elizabeth pretended innocent interest. When Latimer had been in America last year there had been a minor panic one evening while she had been duty officer. But she had never dummy2

been privy to the details, which had been swiftly taken out of her half-trained hands by Paul Mitchell.

'Involving Major Parker?' She reinforced her pretence with the question.

'No.' Latimer relaxed. 'No. But his name was at the top of the list when they decided on reactivation.'

'Although he'd been cleared?'

'Cleared in 1958.' He reached for another chocolate. 'What they did, Elizabeth, was to programme his whole career into that computer of theirs in Fort Dobson. Every decision he'd had a hand in, every advisory committee he'd served on - what it achieved, or didn't achieve. And they came up with some altogether damning conclusions.'

'He's a traitor, you mean?'

'No. That is exactly what he isn't - or wasn't rather, seeing that he retired five years ago. All the evidence points to him having been a one-hundred-per-cent red- blooded American.

And also a one-hundred-per-cent loser, you see.' Latimer smiled evilly at her. 'The New Model Traitor, Elizabeth, is the one you can't call a traitor to his face without risking an action for slander.'

Elizabeth shook her head. 'Now you've lost me.'

'It's quite simple. He backed losing causes - the Bay of Pigs, Batista, Somaza - all the equivocal fire-fighting decisions which ended up with the whole house going up in flames.

Even with Allende - he helped to overthrow Allende in a way which made him a martyr, not an exile.' Latimer