Here Be Monsters

work alphabetically.'

'But - ' Elizabeth came within a tyro's breath of adding why, only just catching herself in time: for whatever original reason, Audley had only been doing then what she was doing now, all those years ago ' - but Sir Peter had left the service - the Board of Trade, or the Treasury, or whatever - by then, surely?' It was lame, but it was better than nothing.

'Very true,' agreed Sir Peter. 'But then, even if I had still been employed in Whitehall, it was still a great nonsense.'

Elizabeth looked at him. 'Why was it a great nonsense?'

'For three reasons, Miss Loftus. You yourself have supplied the first: I had quit the Queen's service - I had, as it were, privatized myself. And although the Greek had some fairly hot little secrets of his own, they were hardly the sort which should have interested British Intelligence. Besides which, I was never really privy to any of his secrets, I only suspected things here and there. But the second reason is more to the point, though actually not dissimilar. Because, when I was in the service, what I was doing was hardly top secret. It was sensitive, of course - some of it. But none of it was really in the least important. What I had in my head was of far more use to the Greek's oil deals than to any foreign power, actually. So if they were after a traitor, I was a very poor candidate.'

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Audley shook his head. 'I told you, Peter - I wasn't particularly after you.'

'So you said. Although it didn't seem like that at the time. And you were certainly after that Italian holiday of mine - ' He came back to Elizabeth ' - which is my third point. Because there was no mystery about that, you see.' The corner of his mouth dropped slightly. 'It's rather ironic - I'd guess that's the only time I've been properly vetted, with expense no object - would that be correct, David?'

Audley puffed his cheeks. 'It was the only time I vetted you. That would be correct.'

'Uh-huh? Well, the other times wouldn't have amounted to much, compared with your time, I would guess.'

'Why was it ironic, Sir Peter?'

'Ironic and expensive.' He smiled at her with his mouth, but not with his eyes. 'It was a rather special holiday. I was with the girl I expected to marry. And she was beautiful - I suppose I was rather proud of myself: I'd never expected to capture such a beauty, and…

partly because I loved her, and - but perhaps partly to impress her, and make sure of her…

I drew most of my savings out of the bank -I hoped to make more from the Greek, one way or another - and I splashed it around. Miss Loftus.' He added. 'We flew to Rome, and stayed at a good hotel - she was used to good hotels. And I hired a car, and we progressed by slow stages - and more good hotels - to Florence. And then to Venice… I knew what to show her, because I'd slummed that same route long before, mostly hitch-hiking and sleeping semi-rough. But this time it was all first-class and over-tipping.' For a fraction of a second he looked clear through her. Then he focused again, and shrugged sadly. 'And if you want another irony… obviously I didn't impress her at all. I only put her off, it would seem, judging by what happened afterwards. Though it didn't seem so to me, at the time.'

He thought for a moment. 'No… but I must have left a trail a mile wide - ' He nodded to Audley ' - for him to follow - what was it, David: ' Where did you go?' , and ' Who can vouch for you, that you were there?' , and ' Which day was that?' - I couldn't remember which day it was, exactly… but I'll bet you found enough over-tipped waiters and chamber-maids and hotel managers who recalled the silly young Englishman and his bellissima signora, eh?'

Audley made one of his extra-ugly faces. 'I wasn't after you, Peter.'

'Yes, you were. And you checked.' The old bitterness lay beneath very thin ice. 'And you pushed me.'

'And you were scared.' The ugly face became brutal. 'If you had such a bloody-clear conscience - why were you so scared?'

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'Has it never occurred to you why?' The ice cracked. But now it was anger which showed.

'My God, man - it was because I had a bloody-clear conscience that I was scared! I knew it couldn't be the holiday, so it had to be something else. So I thought it was the Greek, don't you see? I thought he'd been up to something really nasty that I didn't know about. In which case I was out of a job again - and compromised - and with hardly any money, too!'

All the vivid memories of 1958 suddenly animated Sir Peter Barrie's face, melting its ice to reveal both anger and bitterness. 'You're absolutely right - I was scared! I was scared stiff, if you must know.'

'Ah…' Audley came as close to embarrassment as he was capable of doing when caught in an error. But then he shrugged it off quite easily, as he always did. 'So that was why you served up the Haddock?'

Sir Peter's mouth tightened. 'Which I have regretted ever after. And never more so than now, I think.' He looked at Elizabeth suddenly.

'He was on the list,' snapped Audley. 'I would have come to him without your help, sooner or later.'

'Would you?' Sir Peter ignored him. 'What are you up to, Miss Loftus?'

'What did you say about him, Sir Peter?'

'Huh!' Audley sniffed. 'Actualy, he said very little, as I recall.'

'But also too much. I said - ' Sir Peter's features contorted ' - or, something like, I said… ' If you're looking for holidays abroad - mysterious holidays - why don't you try Dr Caradog Thomas?

He's always going on holiday abroad. And his last holiday was the most mysterious one of all, you'll find - ask him about his Romanesque churches - ask him how he liked Cluny.'' He controlled his face with an effort. 'I was frightened, Miss Loftus. So I cracked. And I said, in effect… 'Do it to my friend Haddock - not to me!'' He paused. 'And now I am justly served, with my own treachery. Which is how the past always serves us, I suspect.'