For the Good of the State

print at the bottom of the contract, you see. Because I’ve been there too… So let’s go and do it again, then.’

Tom watched him walk away, with the walk instantly lengthening into that characteristic long-legged stride. Then he bent down into the car and reached for the cast-aside raincoat in the back, using the required contortion also to ease the Smith and Wesson out of its holster into his hand to hold under it before he backed out again.

Audley had already reached Panin and Sadowski, and was nodding in answer to the Russian. Tom dropped the car key into his pocket (who would steal a heap like this? ), and settled the coat untidily over his right hand. Mercifully, there was a lot of raincoat; but then, any raincoat made to cover Audley had to be tent-like.

‘Tom—’ Audley called across the decreasing yards as he approached them ‘—Tom—’ Now the raincoat received half-aglance, and Tom’s guts twisted; but then the old man ignored the coat ‘—of course, they’ve cheated, as you would expect!’

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State

‘Cheated?’ Tom let his outrage at the word further cover the coat’s untidiness. ‘How?’ He looked accusingly at Panin, ‘What?’

‘Not exactly… cheated, Sir Thomas.’ The Russian lifted a hand quickly. ‘As a precaution we have had men watching this place, to see who has come; and who has gone, you understand?’ The fingers of the hand opened, and the hand shook defensively. ‘With General Zarubin so close there is no margin for error, Sir Thomas.

We cannot afford to be careless.’

‘Which, translated, means that they’ve counted all the Poles out, and then they’ve counted them all in,’ snapped Audley. ‘And there are only two of them.’

“That is correct.‘ Panin took a confirmatory nod from Sadowski before nodding himself. ’One is Szymiac, the other we do not know. But they operate in two-man cells, we do know. And Szymiac will have scouted the ground, and will drive the car. For he is the brains, and not an assassin—it is the other man who will fire the shot.‘ He fixed Tom through his eye-slits. ’Small units, quickly in and quickly out, regardless of everything after proper reconnaissance: they learned that from us, I suspect.‘

That hadn’t been how it had been with Father Jerzy, thought Tom.

But then, they had used Polish scum for that, because only scum would work for them, and scum was reliably stupid. But these men were patriots, however deluded now. Or… maybe not so deluded?

But he must not think Polish thoughts now: England had taken him, and their way was not his way now, and that was the end of it!

‘So they’re both inside.’ He looked up at the houses above him: a Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State well-spaced row of very English houses, rather gimcrack-1930ish, each detached from the other behind its garden, which rose up the hill from the road. ‘Where?’

‘There.’ Panin pointed to one further on from where they were standing. ‘And we must act now, this minute, because our time is running out… Szymiac has already brought out their car from the garage… Dr Audley?’

‘Suits me.’ Audley shrugged. ‘Let’s get it over with. Tom—?’

Time running out wasn’t to Tom’s taste. But then nothing since Ranulf of Caen’s ditch yesterday had tasted right. And the nasty little Major— more Polish scum!— was already accepting his orders, like the little obedient swine that he was.

They walked the few yards of respectable pavement, then turned up the drive to the house, between rock gardens which had once been lovingly well-tended, when the house had been private and not for hire, but which were now tended just enough to keep them respectable.

And Panin and his watchers had been right: there was a car parked ready, outside the peeling cream-and- brown front door; and, by the coincidence of successful mass-production, it was also a Ford Cortina—and one which matched the front door, near enough, in common milk-chocolate-brown, with a pale beige hardtop, like a million other cars and doors.

‘So what do we do, then?’ inquired Audley politely. ‘Just knock on the door and ask for Mr… Shim-she- ack?’

Panin half turned towards him. “That is exactly what we shall do, Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State Dr Audley. We come in peace, to preserve the peace.‘ He nodded to the Pole. ’Major Sadowski, if you please—?‘

The Pole slid by him and flattened himself against the wall of the house on the left of the door. And, as he did so, he drew a short-barrelled revolver from inside his jacket, holding it flat against his chest.

‘Some peace!’ murmured Audley.

‘A precaution, no more.’ Panin turned towards the door. ‘Have confidence, Dr Audley—David.’ He reached for the heavy black door-knocker.

Audley sneezed explosively as the knocker banged, while Tom stared helplessly at the weapon in the Pole’s hand, which was a kissing cousin of the one he held in his own. All he could do was to remember that peacekeeping forces the world over were usually and prudently armed to the teeth, and hope that the Pole knew his business.

The echoes of Panin’s knocking died away into silence. But then there came an indeterminate sound from inside the house, part scraping, part slithering, followed by a footstep.

‘But first a moment of play-acting.’ Panin nodded to Sadowski again, who seemed to flatten even more against his wall, dead-faced.

The door opened slowly, first only a crack, then somewhat more.

‘Good morning, sir—’ The Russian’s habitually-drooping shoulders had squared, but his voice had stiffened and deepened even more unnaturally. ‘—I wish to speak to Mr Sizzeemeeack.

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State And my name is Smith—Chief Detective Inspector, CID, Exmoor Division, West of England Police Authority—and I must advise you, sir, that I ’ave a warrant to search these premises, which are surrounded by my officers, acting under my orders.‘ Panin lifted one foot as he spoke, and placed it firmly in the opening of the door.

Audley sneezed again, as a kaleidoscope of bright unreal thoughts and images burst inside Tom’s brain: