The Memory Trap

'Ex-Mossad.' Audley wondered how much Butler had guessed. But meanwhile he allowed himself a grin for Charlie Renshaw. 'An old mate of mine, from prehistoric times, Charlie. But . . . back in London?' He looked innocently to Jaggard. 'He was always a good friend of ours, Henry. When we gave him the chance to be, anyway.'

'Yes.' Jaggard had to swallow that. 'He is supposed to be on holiday, Charles. We know about him.'

'Holiday my foot!' Audley shook his head. 'He's someone we can do business with, Charlie. And, when it comes to Arab terrorism, the Israelis have forgotten more than we're ever likely to know. So ... if Jack's right, they could be waving old Jake like an olive branch, hoping that we'll accept him.'

'I see.' Renshaw shifted to Butler. 'Would you be prepared to release David for a few more days, to open negotiations with his 'old mate', Sir Jack? Assisting Henry of course — ' He acknowledged Jaggard a little belatedly ' — Henry?'

'If Dr Audley is agreeable.' Again Butler got in first. When he wanted to be first, he usually was. 'I think we should regard the matter as urgent.'

'Hold on, there!' In this transformed situation Audley had to think quickly.

'You don't want to — ?' Renshaw frowned ' — what, David?'

'I'd like fine to meet Jake again, in — ah — in due course. But I'm not an expert on terrorism, Charlie.'

'What are you driving at?' Renshaw was surprised. In fact, dummy1

they were all surprised. And, additionally, Henry Jaggard was also consumed with suspicion.

'I think Peter Richardson is still my priority.' He could make contact with Jake any time. But he didn't want Jaggard breathing down his neck when he did. 'I want to have a look at the old files first. And then later today I think I'll saunter through some of Peter's old haunts in the country, just in case.' He gave Charlie his most serious face. 'It would be much better if Henry here and Commander Pitt asked for a meeting with Jake, at top level. To get whatever he's got on Comrades Lukianov and Prusakov, and their Arab associates.

And on Russian intentions in general too. And, meanwhile, if I can come up with anything, I'll let them know, of course.'

'That sounds eminently sensible.' Len Aston spoke out of nowhere, having effaced himself since his own surprising conribution to the conference. 'I would agree with Sir Jack that the matter is urgent. And also ... I am not convinced that we are 'neutral ground'.' He stared at Charlie Renshaw.

'And, finally, I would prefer someone of Mr Jaggard's seniority to negotiate with the Israelis. Because our present relations with them are . . . shall we say . . . cool, if not unfriendly?'

Nobody trusted him, when the Israelis were involved, thought Audley — even after all these years. But for once that was to his advantage. Because Henry Jaggard was now even more suspicious. But there wasn't one damn thing he could do about it.

dummy1

'Right.' Renshaw sat up very straight. 'Then I will inform my masters to that effect.' But once more he settled on Audley.

'What we want is no trouble, David. That may prove impossible in the case of Lukianov and his Arabs, I grant you.

But Henry and Commander Pitt will handle that. So, what I mean is, no trouble with the Russians, in view of the meeting scheduled between the PM and Gorbachev next month. Do you understand, David?'

'Yes, Charlie.' But it wasn't easy to keep a straight face, all the same, now that Jack was off the hook, and Henry Jaggard was in the barrel. And he himself was . . . a lot more free than he'd expected anyway. 'That suits me.'

3

As the car dropped down into the great motorway cutting through the Chilterns escarpment, and the panorama of the Oxfordshire plain below opened up in front of him, Audley debated with himself whether or not he ought to be frightened, and finally voted against it.

'Goodbye, Charlie.' Where the others only rated nods, Charlie had deserved more, for his help. 'Thanks for the support.'

'Oh yes? And you'll wear it always?' Renshaw had given him an old-fashioned look (as, also, had the flawless Mary Franklin from the doorway). 'Don't forget what I said, eh? No dummy1

trouble, David?'

'No trouble, Charlie.' He had lingered beside Mrs Harlin's desk. 'Did you get through to my wife, Mrs Harlin?' He had seen Butler hovering outside his own door, watching him almost as suspiciously as Jaggard had done.

'Yes, Dr Audley. She said for me to thank you. And she will phone Sir Matthew herself now.'

'That's fine.' Now for the Headmaster's study, Audley.

'Coming, Jack.' He'd have to get his act together now, too!

'Well . . . that's one worry off my mind . . . yes, Jack?'

'You knew Shapiro was here, didn't you?' Butler opened a file on his desk and extracted a print-out from it. 'And you've already talked to him.'

No matter how hard he tried not to underrate Jack Butler, he always failed. 'I didn't know he was here. But I have talked to him — yes, Jack.' But even this truth failed to set him free.

'When it comes to Arabs, they always know more than we do.

And . . . after losing Richardson I wanted to have something in the bag, just in case. And . . . well, they've