'You were there?' The Israeli crumpled the newspaper as he looked up from it. 'This was . . .
'Yes.' Whatever else Mossad knew, Capri didn't fit in with it.'
Tell me about it.'
Audley shook his head. 'The Russians killed two Arabs. And they lost one of their own men, doing it. That's what we believe. But the man wasn't Lukianov, anyway. At least, I dummy1
don't think so.'
The Israeli drew a deep breath. 'It can't have been 'Lucky'
Lukianov. Because the Russians wanted all three of them back alive, from the start. And as of last night —as of this morning, too . . . they still wanted him.' He lifted the crumpled
Not that they can't all afford to pay . . . But Abu Nidal certainly isn't going to let Ahmed Jebril get it, if he can stop him.' He sighed. 'Whatever it is . . .'
Audley let out his breath slowly. It was probable that Jake knew more than he was telling. But he didn't know about Peter Richardson yet.
'Okay, Jake.' If he risked more, then he might betray how little he'd known. Because Jake was smart. 'Tell me about this fellow Lukianov.'
2
'Good morning, Mrs Harlin.' Audley could always gauge how far he was into the doghouse from the expression on the face of Jack's PA. And one glance this morning was enough. 'Any messages for me?'
'Good morning, Dr Audley.' All the years of their acquaintance made not the slightest difference: with Mrs dummy1
Harlin it was Jack Butler
'There are no messages for you. But Sir Jack is waiting for you in the conference room.'
'In the conference room?' It was still her loyalty to Jack which allowed her to warn him that they already had visitors.
And she had no need to elaborate on her encoded message: a conference before 10 o'clock in the morning always meant trouble. 'Thank you, Mrs Harlin. Would you tell him I'm here, then?'
'I have already told him of your arrival, Dr Audley.' The arrow on her disapproval-dial moved up into the red as he failed to move. 'He is w—' Her features relaxed suddenly' —
ah, Sir Jack! Dr Audley — '
'Yes.' Butler's voice came from behind him.
'Hullo, Jack.' Audley glanced over his shoulder, but then returned to Mrs Harlin. 'Just one thing, Mrs Harlin. Would you phone my wife and tell her that I've had a talk with Matthew Fattorini, and that he's going to fix up a trip to America for Cathy.' He shook his head at her. 'She'll understand . . . We've got this problem of Cathy wanting to swan off to India for a year, to do her Christian duty. But she's still much too young for India.' He gave Butler half a shrug. 'And if this doesn't work I shall call on you, Jack. She's your god-daughter after all.'
Butler considered him dispassionately for a moment, as though weighing his anger with this flimsy alibi against other dummy1
more pressing matters. Then he looked down at his PA. 'And while you're about it, Mrs Harlin, you may reassure Mrs Audley that her husband has found time to attend to his duties. So she is not to worry about him.'
'Oh — ?' Audley decided to cut his losses also, for the same reason. 'We have company, I gather?'
Butler pointed towards the passage.
'Who — ' He found himself addressing Butler's back '—who have we got, Jack?'
'Henry Jaggard.' Butler stopped suddenly, indicating the door to a side-office. 'In there, David.'
The office was empty. 'Who else, Jack?'
'Your friend Renshaw, from the Cabinet Office. Leonard Aston. Commander Pitt.' Butler stared at him. 'And a woman named Franklin. You know her?'
'I've heard tell of her.' Jaggard evidently meant business.
'Isn't she Henry's new secret weapon?' He cocked his head at Butler. 'Is she targeted on us this morning —not the enemy?'
Another hard stare. 'Is there anything I should know before we go in, David?'
Not yet there wasn't. 'Have they seen Mitchell's report, on the Italian debacle?'
'Of course.'
Of course — yes! Because Kulik had been Henry Jaggard's business, and they had just been 'helping out' —eh? 'Uh-dummy1
huh? So now I'm getting the blame for losing Peter Richardson — is that it?'
