than made. ‘I’ll deal with the Minister and the rest of them. Fortunately, things haven’t gone too far yet. So I shall be able to recommend an informal protest to the Soviet Embassy. And you can reassure Mosby Sheldon—you can tell him that I entirely agree with him.’
Garrod Harvey blinked. ‘I’ll do that. But I was going to tell you…
about Colonel Butler, Henry.’
‘Ah, yes…’ Jack Butler would also have to be appeased, of course.
‘I’ll have a word with Colonel Butler too.’ At least he understood now why Butler had been so uncharacteristically affable: once the Prime Minister learnt that R & D had been a specific KGB target Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State (and Audley could be relied on to let that piece of information leak upwards, for sure), then Butler’s stock would go even higher in Downing Street.
‘It isn’t that, Henry.’ There was a curious expression on Garrod Harvey’s face; it was not embarrassment, yet he was embarrassed all the same.
‘Yes, Garry?’ Jaggard felt that he was ready for any shock now.
‘You’re not about to ask for a transfer to R & D, are you?’
The expression vanished. ‘Good God, no!’
‘Well, that’s all right then.’ Jaggard concealed his vast relief.
‘Don’t worry, my dear fellow. Audley has won, and we have lost.
But it was my fault, not yours. It
Garrod Harvey took a breath. ‘That’s just it, Henry, We haven’t lost at all—
‘We’ve—?’ Henry Jaggard was so taken aback that the final word failed to arrive.
‘We’ve won.’ Garrod Harvey nodded. ‘I said Colonel Butler was helpful.’ He nodded again.
‘ “Affable”—’ Jaggard cursed himself for interrupting. ‘Go on, Garry—go on!’
‘Yes… well, he said that he felt R & D was getting too isolated—
that this business on Exmoor was a good illustration of how dangerous such isolation could be, with his most valuable officer going in blind and risking his neck like a subaltern in the trenches.
So he wants to integrate his work much more closely with what Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State you need in the future.’
Henry Jaggard opened his mouth. ‘God bless my soul!’
‘Yes.’ The next nod was so vigorous that it hurt. ‘Regular meetings
—joint policy briefings, the lot.’
‘God Almighty!’
Garrod Harvey swallowed. ‘There is a price, though.’
Henry Jaggard came down to earth. ‘A price?’
‘He thinks we should be a lot more accountable. So if he comes into the fold he’ll be bringing the Stansfield Turner CIA recommendations with him: he says that if we don’t meet Parliament halfway, Parliament will come and get us.’
So that was the way the land lay, thought Jaggard. ‘I see!’
And then he did see. Or, at least, he began to wonder whether David Audley might not be behind this last joke also: the very obvious wheeling-up of a huge Trojan horse to the as-yet-unbreached walls of British Intelligence, with Audley himself inside it. The trouble was, he couldn’t decide whether it was an attack or the last, best defence of Research and Development.
‘I see.’ What he needed was time. ‘Well, I’ll go and talk with Colonel Butler, Garry. We’ll sort something out.’
For the time being, he decided R & D was best left well alone, to its own devices.
THE END
Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State
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Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State
