For the Good of the State

‘How much does Audley know about Professor Panin, Tom?’

Her voice came from nowhere, above him. Indeed, except that it was her voice, it might have come from that foliate mouth, with its classical leaves but northern-pagan imagery, which was neither cruel nor hostile, but knowing.

‘How much should he know?’ Green Man, or Jack o‘ the Green, or Green Knight from Sir Gawaine, or Wodwo, Wild Man—if I knew what you know I wouldn’t need to ask! Because you know it all!

‘He’s in bigger trouble than Audley is—you’re right, Tom.’ She waited for only half a second, as though she didn’t expect him to react. ‘Do you know? Or were you just guessing?’

That had been why Basil Cole had died, the Green Man told him. ‘I was guessing.’ But not guessing, all the same. Because Basil Cole’s death hadn’t really been silent. ‘Just guessing, Willy.’

She didn’t reply to that, and he guessed also that it annoyed her, that he was lying on his back, staring up at the Green Man. But then the Green Man hadn’t been a woman’s god in any of his incarnations, either before or after the coming of the White Christ.

He rolled sideways, on to his elbow, and raised himself to look at her. ‘I was just guessing, Willy darling. But I think he wouldn’t come here if he didn’t have to, so far from his home ground—eh?’

Still she said nothing, and he saw too late—much too late—that the Green Man had betrayed him, coming after his refusal to tell her about Basil Cole. So he must exert himself now.

‘Why are you telling me all this?’ (She hadn’t told him anything yet; but no matter!) ‘Why don’t you tell Audley himself?’ He Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State nodded past her bare pale pink-white-gold shoulder at the brocaded headboard of the great wedding bed. ‘He’s in Room Two, just a yard away.’ (He could imagine Audley snoring now, in his own esoteric dreams.)

Still not good enough. ‘Or why isn’t Sheldon telling me this, anyway?’ Should he make it nastier? ‘Or are you expendable—like me?’ (She must answer that, out of loyalty, if for no other reason!) A shadow crossed her face, but he couldn’t read her expression: either she hadn’t wanted to see him again, or she had—it was one or other of those two extremes. ‘Dr Audley doesn’t know me. But you do.’

Very true! thought Tom. I know you from that first English-Speaking Union meeting—from that first traditional kindred-spirit eye-contact across a crowded room, like in “South Pacific”; and later in bed, and in many a motte-and-bailey afterwards: I know you socially, Willy—and biblically, and in every other way except one… which in our business is the only one that counts, eh?

‘Yes.’ ‘ Wilt thou have this woman—?’ ‘I do.’

‘And I’m not official—’ She shook her head against the pillow ‘—

my darling Tom… if things go wrong… and I think they think things are going to go wrong, I’m afraid… then I’m just a junior cypher clerk, working in low-grade traffic, who shacked up out-of-school with a middle-grade FCO Brit—’ She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again they were dead ‘—a Brit who happened to have a handle to his name. Which they reckon puts me safely in a fine old American tradition, from Consuelo Vanderbilt onwards.’ She paused for a moment, Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State watching him. ‘They know all about you, of course. And more than I ever told them.’

‘Of course.’ As an embassy employee — even as a secretary, never mind an intelligence cypher clerk — she had had to put her private life on the record. But he’d taken that for granted, because he had done the same.

‘Of course.’ The mouth twisted. ‘So… I’ve got the right clearance for running errands. But if things go wrong I’m not Company talent

—I’m just your “bit of crumpet”… “Bit of crumpet”—okay?’ The twist became more pronounced. ‘That seems to be the British term for me.’

The room was hot, he could feel its warmth on his face. But there was a cold area spreading up his back which came from inside him.

Because, if Audley’s friends in Grosvenor Square were concerned to keep this sort of distance from Holcombe Bridge, then Holcombe Bridge was no place to be.

‘What sort of trouble is Audley in then, Willy?’

She relaxed slightly. In the ruins of their relationship, coming back to Company business took her mind off personal desolation. ‘His own side’s gunning for him, Tom.’

‘Why?’

‘He’s been playing politics. Political politics—with politicians.’

‘ Audley?’ Audley had never been political—even Harvey had said that the old man disliked all politicians equally. ‘Never!’

‘You’re wrong, honey. There’s this guy he doesn’t like—who is a top politician.’

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State

‘He doesn’t like any of them, Willy.’

‘He doesn’t? Well, I don’t know about that… but he seems to have set this guy up, by leaking some dirt about the insecurity of his department. And that seems to have been a big mistake.’

He wanted to ask Why? again, but then he decided to limit his interruptions. If she was just passing on Sheldon’s message without understanding it, questions would only confuse her.

‘The guy’s very close with their intelligence brass— your brass, I mean, Tom honey… There’s a man named Jaggard, who’s very smart—and who’s on our side, pretty much— our side including the US of A… But he owes this politician some favours. And he wants to owe him some more favours—’

Sweet Jesus Christ! thought Tom. Now he really was in the