For the Good of the State

a sign up ahead: East Lyn ?.

Audley grinned cheerfully at him. ‘I always find Kipling relaxing.

It’s such a pity they don’t make children learn poetry by heart nowadays. We had reams of it dinned into us. In the end it becomes… not so much easy—although Kipling and all the other good old rhyming stuff is easy… but not so much easy as a habit…

And, do you know, my feet are almost dry. Must be the car heater, I suppose, eh?’

Tom followed the sign uphill. The old man was blethering. But then, the old man was frightened, and this was merely the sign of his fear. But also, the poor old bugger had every right to be frightened in these circumstances, with Panin and the Sons of the Eagle ahead, and the tricky, treacherous Tom Arkenshaw at his side. Even, very likely, the older one got, the more one had to draw on one’s diminished reserves of courage in such situations. And old men must know better than young ones that they weren’t immortal, so their ‘borrowed time’ must seem all the more valuable.

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State

‘Well, there’s old Nikolai, waiting patiently for us.’ Audley pointed suddenly. ‘But I don’t see the talkative Major. And I don’t see their car, either. So they must have tucked that round the side somewhere, I suppose… Still, the Comrade Professor doesn’t seem very nervous. And that’s reassuring.’

Panin certainly didn’t appear worried: he was watching a hooligan crowd of small birds fighting over something edible in the middle of the road. But otherwise Audley was still blethering about the obvious.

As Tom scattered the birds the Russian looked up and saw them, but gave no sign of having done so. And in that instant Tom decided whose side he was on.

He drove fifty yards before stopping, and then watched Audley release his seat-belt.

‘Listen, David—’ As he put his hand on the old man’s arm he realized that this was the first time he’d touched him. On the terrace yesterday they hadn’t shaken hands because Audley’s had been dirty from his bonfire-making —about as dirty as they were now. ‘Listen, David…’

Audley regarded him inquiringly, his battered features suddenly scrubbed clean of all other emotions. ‘Aren’t you going to back up?’

Panin was standing still and the birds were back in the road, Tom observed in the rear-view mirror. ‘He can wait. Do you know who I’m working for?’

Audley’s face didn’t change. ‘I did rather wonder. From time to Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State time.’

‘Henry Jaggard, David. I have to report everything you do to him.’

Still no change, but a tiny nod. ‘Ah… well, that’s also reassuring.

He’s a sharp fellow, Henry Jaggard—very clever. But at least he’s on our side.’ Then a slight frown. ‘Jack Butler doesn’t know this, I take it?’

‘No. Not as far as I know.’

‘No.’ The frown vanished. ‘That’s reassuring too. One doesn’t like one’s idols to have clay feet. But… you don’t by any chance know what Henry Jaggard is up to? Apart from securing the defence of the realm and furthering his own career, that is—?’

Tom flicked a glance into the mirror again. Panin was still waiting patiently, and there was still no sign of Major Sadowski. ‘No.’ He shook his head at Audley. ‘My job is to protect you. And to obey your orders, David.’

Audley’s eyebrows lifted slightly. ‘That doesn’t seem too outrageous. But, since I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, he must be having a rather frustrating time.’ A hint of the old Beast-grin. ‘So what’s your problem?’

‘If I had my way we wouldn’t be here. Or… we’d have a lot more back-up right now. But he won’t have that.’

Nod. ‘He’s quite right. A troop of heavy-hoofed Special Branch men in clean black Rovers would frighten the natives. And they wouldn’t turn a bullet from my coat, either—not if it’s got my name on it, Tom. Or, put another way—it would be my friend and colleague Paul Mitchell’s way, because he’s into 1914-18 poetry…

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State and so, to a quite remarkable extent, is Jack Butler, too:

“Nor lead nor steel shall reach him, so That it be not the Destined Will.”

Not Kipling, that But it could have been. So not to worry.‘ He reached for his door handle. ’We just have to keep our powder dry, that’s all.‘

‘No—’ Again Tom touched Audley’s arm ‘—that’s the point, David… That bullet yesterday…’

‘Yes?’ Audley nodded. ‘I did rather wonder about that, too.’ The eyebrow cocked again. ‘Henry Jaggard too—? To galvanize me into urgent and furious activity instantly?’

‘He isn’t as worried about it as he ought to be.’

‘He isn’t, isn’t he?’ Audley twisted in his seat to gaze out of the rear window. ‘Well, I suppose that could be quiet confidence in himself… and in you… however misplaced.’ The old man’s tone hardened with each word. ‘Or… It could be Henry Jaggard or one of his minions leaving nothing to chance, as you suggest… But here’s the Galloping Major now, anyway. So let’s go and join the bird-watching party then, eh?’ Audley straightened himself and opened his door.

Tom felt ridiculously anti-climaxed. He had burnt his boats—

perhaps even, subconsciously, he had burnt them for Mamusia’s sake, too. But Audley had been there, or nearly, before him, so he Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State might just as well have kept his options open.

A gust of wind, damp with fine cobwebby rain, caught him full in the face as he frowned across the top of the car at Audley.

The old man was smiling at him—not grinning the Beast-grin, but smiling an old maid’s almost hesitant smile; which, since his face was so dirty, made him look foolishly-beastly. ‘I really need my raincoat now, dear boy. But, since you say I mustn’t wear it, I’ll chance pneumonia instead. Because I am vastly obliged and obligated to you now.’ The smile twitched. ‘And because I also know the difference between betrayal and keeping faith in the fine