The Memory Trap

—

remember?'

'You're also a three-time loser.' Butler held his ground. 'You can be de-briefed this morning. And back in Washington this evening.'

He had to try another line. 'Richardson was our man, Jack —'

'He was Sir Frederick Clinton's man.' Butler cut him off brutally. 'And only briefly. And then he resigned.'

He could try 'the National Interest'. But, coming from him, that would be no more convincing than ancient departmental loyalty. So all that was left was for him to act in charcter. 'I'm dummy1

too far in to want to stop now, Jack. And, if anyone wants me dead, I'll be damned if I stop —I'll be damned if I'll leave what concerns me to Henry Jaggard. Apart from all of which . . . he'll fuck it up for sure.'

Butler winced at the obscenity, as he always did at Audley's deliberate lapses, in spite of all his army years. But then he drew a deep resigned breath. 'Very well. We'll wait and see.'

The woman Franklin would be the one to watch. So he mustn't look at her first —

'Ah, David!' Even on Sir Jack Butler's own ground, and in his own conference room, Henry Jaggard had to assert himself as though it all belonged to him. 'Good of you to join us.'

'Henry.' Audley ignored him, nodding first and second to Len Aston and Billy Pitt, then grinning at the Honourable Charles Renshaw. 'Hullo, Charlie. Sorry to get you out of bed so early.' Now the woman. 'Miss Franklin, I presume — ?' Well, well! She was damn-well worth looking at, never mind watching! 'Sorry I'm late, Henry. But . . . I gather you all know what's happened. And if you must give us the tricky jobs that your chaps aren't up to, then what can you expect?'

'That's unjust. The man Kulik asked for you, David.' Jaggard rolled easily with the punch.

'But, fortunately, he didn't get me.'

'You can say that again!' Charlie Renshaw made a face. 'You dummy1

go along with the perceived wisdom, do you, David —that they were gunning for you?'

'It certainly looks that way now, yes.'

'You were lucky.' Jaggard nodded.

'Not lucky. Jack just made the right decision, that's all. As usual.'

'And that was lucky.' Jaggard stuck to his guns. 'I would have sent you — to Berlin, anyway.'

'And I would have gone. I've always liked Berlin.' Audley nodded back. 'Maybe you're right at that — I'm lucky to have Jack to save me from myself. And from you, Henry.'

'On the other hand, you might not have conducted matters there quite as insouciantly as did Miss Loftus.' Jaggard pursed his lips. 'In which case we might not be in our present quandary.' He stared around before returning to Audley.

'Because Sir Jack has informed us that Kulik's confidence in you was misplaced — that you don't know what is going on?'

'I don't know what it is I'm supposed to know — not yet . . .

that's true.' Audley looked at each of them in turn, with the exception of Butler. 'I know a lot of things, about a lot of people —'

'Including Major Richardson?' Miss Franklin interrupted him more gently than he deserved, he thought. 'We were hoping he would narrow the field for us, Dr Audley.'

She had a pleasant voice, the thought expanded: received Queen's/BBC/Oxbridge accent, but with the merest hint of dummy1

Welsh somewhere in its background.

'Well . . . yes, he does ... or he may, Miss Franklin.' He must stop thinking how pretty she was, and remember only that she was reputed to be formidably intelligent. 'Although I'm afraid I didn't know him as well as everyone assumes, Kulik included. He was one of Sir Frederick Clinton's Queen's-shilling men . . . And old Fred always played his cards close to his chest.' He smiled at her. 'But Peter Richardson didn't turn out to be quite the trump he expected. However, given more time, I shall do better —' He completed the smile, and then erased it before catching Commander Pitt's eye ' —

although I could do the best of all if you could produce him, Commander.'

'Oh aye?' Pitt seemed ready for him. 'You think he's coming here, do you?'

'You think he's still alive?' Jaggard offered the alternative quickly.

'I think ... I think that if Fred Clinton fancied him, then he's a downy bird, Henry. So ... yes, I think he's still alive.' He nodded at Jaggard. 'He certainly wasn't on the Capri casualty list, anyway. And it looks as though he's heading for home now.'

'But his home is in Italy, Dr Audley.' Miss Franklin was just as quick. 'Isn't he half-Italian? And more than half- Italian in some respects?'

That was true. But it hadn't been in the file. So Miss Franklin dummy1

had done her homework. 'Yes. But his Italian home may not be too homely for him at the moment.' Now he included them all. 'It isn't just that all the various parties who are involved in this are after him now — not just the Italians and the Arabs and the Mafia, but also Colonel Zimin . . . It's that they knew where to look for him — both Zimin and the Arabs. Which means that his own organization has gone sour on him. So, as there's no one he can trust out there now, his best bet is to cut-and-run back.' He decided to reward Miss Franklin for doing her homework properly. 'That's what I'd do in his place, Miss Franklin. Because he'll have friends here still. And even some family, if I remember correctly.' Then he looked at Commander Pitt again. 'You're watching out for him, are