For the Good of the State

But then… where did Kennedy’s Revised Latin Primer, and Cassell’s Little Gem Latin Dictionary (the former old and ink-stained, the latter brand new) fit into this field? Or, right in front of him, on top of a pristine copy of yesterday’s Izvestia, this antique little blue Volume IV of Caesar’s Gallic Wars, open at that point where ‘ Caesar’s arrival encourages his men—acting on the Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State defensive he retires—stormy weather prevents further action—

large forces swell the enemy’s camp, confident of victory.’

There still wasn’t a sound from that interesting little book-free gap, behind the chair, where there were four framed sets of campaign medals on the wall beside the grandfather clock, and darkness below.

Quibus rebus perturbatis nostris novitate pugnae tempore opportunissimo Caesar auxilium tulit— God! He couldn’t make sense out of that! But instead he addressed the shadows behind the chair. ‘So what do you know about baronets then, Miss Audley?’

No sound. But Jaggard had not been surprised, and Tom was ultimately convinced by his own instinct. ‘King James I —1611?’

Infinitesimal sound, less than the scuffle of an October field-mouse refugeeing in the house. For the defence of Ulster—?‘

‘That’s right.’ Tom was torn between his memories of Caesar, and more recent ones of Arkadi Shkiriatov, and the presence of Miss Audley, never mind Jaggard and King James I. ‘To raise money for the defence of Ulster in 1611—go on!’

‘People who had enough money had to become baronets. And they had to pay for thirty soldiers, at eight pence a day, for three years.’

The voice strengthened. ‘But Scottish baronets were different.

They paid their money for the colonization of Nova Scotia. You aren’t Scottish, though.’

‘No.’ So Jaggard must have a damn good idea what Panin wanted, even if he didn’t know for sure. ‘Tell me more?’

‘Do people often shoot at you?’

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State That was the point: if it wasn’t Panin (and, even apart from that MAD sanction of Audley’s, Panin would hardly have the man he wanted to meet shot before the meeting) then someone else knew about it, and had done it. ‘Does your father often do your Latin prep for you?’ He turned towards the chair.

‘No.’ The pale little face barely topped the chair-back. ‘Only when I’m really stuck.’ She blinked behind her glasses. ‘Do you shoot people?’

That was also a point, thought Tom. Terrorist groups the world over, from his own Mediterranean to that same Ulster which had forced a title on the original Sir Thomas Arkenshaw… terrorist groups shot people without a second thought. But the agencies of the First Division players, the sovereign states, only resorted to violence when they were really stuck—that was also very much the point.

‘No.’ It wasn’t funny, but he must smile at her. ‘Only when I’m really stuck, anyway.’ But Audley would have worked all this out much more quickly. ‘I think you ought to go and get your toothbrush too, oughtn’t you?’

‘Mother will do that. What I want to know is—’ She stopped as he raised his hand ‘—what—?’

‘I also think she’ll be looking for you, Miss Audley.’ What I want to know, thought Tom, is what you meant by ‘Tripoli’. But I don’t think this is the moment for asking! ‘And then she may remember where she last saw you—?’

The little hand, with its long thin fingers, covered the braced teeth Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State in sudden consternation. At this stage, thought Tom professionally, it was a toss-up whether she’d flower into the slender beauty of her mother or merely end up thin and plain. But either way she would be an interesting young woman one day, for the young man who could match her spirit.

‘Golly—you’re right!’ She ducked out from behind the chair, but then halted in the doorway, just as her father had done, but with her chin up, like her mother. ‘You will look after Father, won’t you?’

What Jaggard had ordered, and what he had almost unthinkingly volunteered to obey in order to get rid of this child’s mother, came home to him again. ‘I’ll do my best. But I rather think he’s quite capable of looking after himself, you know.’ He grinned at her reassuringly.

But she was totally unreassured. ‘No, he’s not,’ She shook her head almost angrily. ‘That’s what everyone thinks—they think he’s so clever, and so does he. But he isn’t at all—he really isn’t.’

‘He isn’t—?’ Tom was totally taken aback.

‘Oh—he knows a lot—’ She caught his thought in midair ‘—he knows everything about everything—’ She had to be quoting someone, thought Tom; and most likely it was her mother ‘—but when he wires up a plug he fuses everything, and when he cuts anything he usually cuts himself too—honestly, he does.’

Definitely, this was Faith Audley overheard; and this child had already proved she was good at overhearing; and yet… in a curious way all this echoed what Harvey had said about Research and Development, too: its unmatched intellectual performance was Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State seldom matched by its performance in the field, whenever it strayed out of its back room.

‘He does need looking after, Sir Thomas.’ The little serious face matched her earnestness. ‘So you will look after him, won’t you?

Won’t you?’

He had to get rid of her, for his own peace of mind. But only one answer could do that. ‘Yes. I will look after him.’

She gave him one dreadful signed-and-sealed nod, and then vanished. But then, just as he was starting to heave a sigh of something less than pure relief, her face appeared again, suspended halfway up the edge of the door.

‘I bet you don’t miss!’