The Enemy

Half an hour later I walked into my office, hoping I could remember it all. I found Larry peering at Nellie. ‘Do you have red clearance?’ I asked.

He shook his head. ‘Yellow is my top.’

‘Then hop it. Go to the library and study Playboy or something elevating like that. I’ll give you a ring when I’m finished.’

He didn’t argue; he merely nodded and walked out. I sat at the console and loaded Code Red into Nellie and it took nearly ten minutes of doing the right things in the right order. I wasn’t entirely joking when I called it an incantation. When faced with Nellie I was always reminded of the medieval sorcerers who sought to conjure up spirits; everything had to be done in the right order and all the right words spoken or the spirit wouldn’t appear. We haven’t made much progress since then, or not too much. But at least our incantations seem to work and we do get answers from the vasty deep, but whether they’re worth anything or not I don’t know.

Nellie accepted Code Red or, at least, she didn’t hiccough over it.

I keyed in:

RELEASE HOLD

and waited with great interest to see what would come out. The screen flickered again, and Nellie said:

THIS INFORMATION NOT AVAILABLE ON CODE RED TRY CODE PURPLE

Purple! The colour of royalty and, possibly, of my face at that moment. This was where I was stopped – I was not cleared for Code Purple. I was aware it existed but that’s about all. And beyond purple there could have been a whole rainbow of colours visible and invisible, from infrared to ultra-violet. As I said, we worked on the ‘need to know’ principle.

I picked up the telephone and rang Larry. ‘You can come back now; the secret bit is over.’ Then I wiped Nellie’s screen clean and sat down to think of what to do next.

FIVE

A couple of hours later I was having a mild ding-dong with Larry. He wasn’t a bad chap but his ideals tended to get in the way of his job. His view of the world didn’t exactly coincide with things as they are, which can be a bit hampering because a man can make mistakes that way. A spell of field work would have straightened him out but he’d never been given the chance.

My telephone rang and I picked it up. ‘Jaggard here.’

It was Harrison. His voice entered my ear like a blast of polar air. ‘I want you in my office immediately.’

I put down the phone. ‘Joe’s in one of his more frigid moods. I wonder how he gets on with his wife.’ I went to see what he wanted.

Harrison was a bit more than frigid – he could have been used to liquefy helium. He said chillily, ‘What the devil have you been doing with the computer?’

‘Nothing much. Has it blown a fuse?’

‘What’s all this about a man called Ashton?’

I was startled. ‘Oh, Christ!’ I said. ‘Nellie is a tattle-tale, isn’t she? Too bloody gossipy by half.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Just talking to myself.’

‘Well, now you can talk to Ogilvie. He wants to see us both.’

I think I gaped a bit. I’d been with the department for six years and I’d seen Ogilvie precisely that number of times; that’s to talk with seriously. I sometimes bumped into him in the lift and he’d exchange pleasantries courteously enough and always asked to be remembered to my father. My monkeying with Nellie must have touched a nerve so sore that the whole firm was going into a spasm.

‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ snapped Harrison. ‘He’s waiting.’

Waiting with Ogilvie was a short, chubby man who had twinkling eyes, rosy cheeks and a sunny smile. Ogilvie didn’t introduce him. He waved Harrison and me into chairs and plunged in medias res. ‘Now, Malcolm; what’s your interest in Ashton?’

I said, ‘I’m going to marry his daughter.’

If I’d said I was going to cohabit with the Prince of Wales I couldn’t have had a more rewarding reaction. The clouds came over Mr Nameless; his smile disappeared and his eyes looked like gimlets. Ogilvie goggled for a moment, then barked, ‘What’s that?’

‘I’m going to marry his daughter,’ I repeated. ‘What’s the matter? Is it illegal?’

‘No, it’s not illegal,’ said Ogilvie in a strangled voice. He glanced at Mr Nameless as though uncertain of what to do next. Mr Nameless said, ‘What reason did you have for thinking there’d be a file on Ashton?’

‘No reason. It was suggested jokingly that I try asking Nellie, so I did. No one was more surprised than I when Ashton popped up.’

I swear Ogilvie thought I was going round the twist. ‘Nellie!’ he said faintly.

‘Sorry, the computer.’

‘Was this enquiry in the course of your work?’ he asked.

‘No,’ I said. ‘It was personal and private. I’m sorry about that and I apologize for it. But some odd things have been going on around Ashton over the weekend and I wanted to check him out.’

‘What sort of things?’

‘Someone threw acid into his daughter’s face and …’

Mr Nameless cut in. ‘The girl you intend to marry?’

‘No – the younger girl, Gillian. Later on Ashton behaved a bit strangely.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Ogilvie. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Last night.’ I paused. ‘I had to disclose myself to a copper, so it came through on the weekend telephone log. Joe and I discussed it this morning.’

Ogilvie switched to Harrison. ‘You knew about this?’

‘Only about the acid. Ashton wasn’t mentioned.’

‘You didn’t ask me,’ I said. ‘And I didn’t know Ashton was so bloody important until Nellie told me afterwards.’

Ogilvie said, ‘Now let me get this quite right.’ He stared at Harrison. ‘A member of your staff in this department reported to you that he’d been involved in police enquiries into an acid-throwing attack, and you didn’t even ask who was attacked. Is that it?’

Harrison twitched nervously. Mr Nameless paused in the act of lighting a cigarette and said smoothly. ‘I think this is irrelevant. Let us get on with it.’

Ogilvie stabbed Harrison with a glance which told him that he’d hear more later. ‘Of course. Do you think this is serious?’

‘It could be very serious,’ said Mr Nameless. ‘But I think we’re very lucky. We already have an inside man.’ He pointed the cigarette at me just as Leonard Bernstein points his baton at the second violins to tell them to get scraping.

I said, ‘Now, hold on a minute. I don’t know what this is about, but Ashton is going to be my father-in-law. That’s bringing things very close to home. You can’t be seriously asking me to …’

‘You’re not being asked,’ said Mr Nameless coolly. ‘You’re being told.’

‘The hell with that,’ I said roundly.

Momentarily he looked startled, and if ever I thought those eyes had twinkled it was then I changed my mind. He glanced at Ogilvie, and said, ‘I know this man has a good record, but right now I fail to see how he achieved it.’

‘I’ve said it once this morning, but I’ll say it again,’ I said. ‘Stuff my record.’

‘Be quiet, Malcolm,’ said Ogilvie irritably. He turned to Harrison. ‘I don’t think we need you any more, Joe.’

Harrison’s expression managed to mirror simultaneously shock, outrage, curiosity and regret at having to leave. As the door closed behind him Ogilvie said, ‘I think a valid point has been made. It’s not good for an agent to be emotionally involved. Malcolm, what do you think of Ashton?’

‘I like him – what I know of him. He’s not an easy man to get to know, but then I haven’t had much chance yet; just a couple of weekends’ acquaintanceship.’

‘A point has been made,’ conceded Mr Nameless. He twinkled at me as though we were suddenly bosom friends. ‘And in rather unparliamentary language. But the fact remains that Mr Jaggard, here, is on the inside. We can’t just toss away that advantage.’

Ogilvie said smoothly, ‘I think that Malcolm will investigate the circumstances around Ashton as soon as it is properly explained to him why he should.’

‘As to that,’ said Mr Nameless, ‘you mustn’t overstep the limits. You know the problem.’

‘I think it can be coped with.’

Mr Nameless stood up. ‘Then that’s what I’ll report.’

When he had gone Ogilvie looked at me for a long moment, then shook his head. ‘Malcolm, you really can’t go about telling high-ranking civil servants to get stuffed.’

‘I didn’t,’ I said reasonably. ‘I told him to stuff my record. I didn’t even tell him where to stuff it.’

‘The trouble with people like you who have private incomes is that it makes you altogether too bloody independent-minded. Now that, while being an asset to the department, as I told his lordship before you came in, can make things difficult for your colleagues.’

His lordship! I didn’t know if Ogilvie was being facetious or not.

He said, ‘Will you take things a bit easier in future?’

That wasn’t asking too much, so I said, ‘Of course.’

‘Good. How’s your father these days?’

‘I think he’s a bit lonely now that Mother’s dead, but he bears up well. He sends you his regards.’

He nodded and checked his watch. ‘Now you’ll lunch with me and tell me everything you know about Ashton.’

SIX

We lunched in a private room above a restaurant at which Ogilvie seemed to be well known. He made me begin right from the beginning, from the time I met Penny, and I ended my tale with the abortive checking out of Ashton and my confrontation with Nellie. It took a long time to tell.

When I had finished we were over the coffee cups. Ogilvie lit a cigar and said, ‘All right; you’re supposed to be a trained man. Can you put your finger on anything unusual?’

I thought a bit before answering. ‘Ashton has a man called Benson. I think there’s something peculiar there.’

‘Sexually, you mean?’

‘Not necessarily. Ashton certainly doesn’t strike me as being double-gaited. I mean it’s not the normal master-and-servant relationship. When they came back from the hospital last night they were closeted in Ashton’s study for an hour and a half, and between them they sank half a bottle of whisky.’

‘Um,’ said Ogilvie obscurely. ‘Anything else?’

‘The way he was pressuring me into marrying Penny was bloody strange. I thought at one time he’d bring out the traditional shotgun.’ I grinned. ‘A Purdy, of course – for formal weddings.’

‘You know what I think,’ said Ogilvie. ‘I think Ashton is scared to death; not on his own behalf but on account of his girls. He seems to think that if he can get your Penny away from him she’ll be all right. What do you think?’

‘It fits all right,’ I said. ‘And I don’t like one damned bit of it.’

‘Poor Ashton. He didn’t have the time to polish up a scheme which showed no cracks, and he sprang it on you too baldly. I’ll bet he pulled that Australian job out of thin air.’

‘Who is Ashton?’ I asked.

‘Sorry; I can’t tell you that.’ Ogilvie blew a plume of smoke. ‘I talked very high-handedly to that chap this morning. I told him you’d take on the job as soon as you knew what was involved, but he knew damned well that I can’t tell you a thing. That’s what he was objecting to in an oblique way.’

‘This is bloody silly,’ I said.

‘Not really. You’ll only be doing what you’d be doing anyway, knowing what you know now.’

‘Which is?’

‘Bodyguarding the girl. Of course, I’ll ask you to bodyguard Ashton, too. It’s a package deal, you see; one automatically includes the other.’

‘And without knowing the reason why?’

‘You know the reason why. You’ll be guarding Penelope Ashton because you don’t want her to get a faceful of sulphuric acid, and that should be reason enough for any tender lover. As for Ashton – well, our friend this morning was right. A commander can’t tell his private soldiers his plans when he sends them into battle. He just tells them where to go and they pick up their feet.’

‘The analogy is false, and you know it,’ I said. ‘How can I guard a man if I don’t know who or what I’m guarding him against? That’s like sending a soldier into battle not only without telling him where the enemy is, but who the enemy is.’

‘Well, then,’ said Ogilvie tranquilly. ‘It looks as though you’ll have to do it for the sake of my bright blue eyes.’

He had me there and I think he knew it. I had an idea that Mr Nameless, whoever he was, could be quite formidable and Ogilvie had defused what might have been a nasty situation that morning. I owed him something for it. Besides, the cunning old devil’s eyes were green.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘But it isn’t a one-man job.’

‘I’m aware of that. Spend this afternoon thinking out your requirements – I want them on my desk early tomorrow morning. Oh, by the way – you don’t disclose yourself.’

I opened my mouth and then closed it again slowly before I swore at him. Then I said, ‘You must be joking. I have to guard a man without telling him I’m guarding him?’

‘I’m sure you’ll do it very well,’ he said suavely, and rang for the waiter.

‘Then you’ll be astonished at what I’ll need,’ I said acidly.

He nodded, then asked curiously, ‘Hasn’t it disturbed you that you’ll be marrying into a rather mysterious family?’

‘It’s Penny I’m marrying, not Ashton.’ I grinned at him. ‘Aren’t you disturbed for the same reason?’

‘Don’t think I’m not,’ he said seriously, and left me to make of that what I could.

SEVEN

When I got back to the office Larry Godwin looked me up and down critically. ‘I was just about to send out a search party. The griffin is that you’ve been given a real bollocking. I was just about to go down to the cellar to see if they really do use thumbscrews.’

‘Nothing to it,’ I said airily. ‘I was given the RSPCA medal for being kind to Joe Harrison – that’s all.’

‘Very funny,’ he said acidly, and flapped open a day-old copy of Pravda. ‘The only time you’ll get a medal is when you come with me when I get my knighthood.’ He watched me putting a few things in a bag. ‘Going somewhere?’

‘I won’t be around for a couple of days or so.’

‘Lucky devil. I never get out of this bloody office.’

‘You will one day,’ I said consolingly. ‘You have to go to Buck House to get a knighthood.’ I leaned against the desk. ‘You really should be in Slav Section. Why did you opt for General Duties?’

‘I thought it would be more exciting,’ he said, and added sourly, ‘I was wrong.’

‘With you around, the phrase “as happy as Larry” takes on an entirely new meaning.’ I thought he was going to throw something at me so I ducked out fast.

I drove to Marlow and found the police station. My name presented to the desk sergeant got me Honnister in jig time. He shared an office with another inspector and when I indicated a desire for privacy Honnister shrugged and said, ‘Oh, well; we can use an interview room. It’s not as comfortable as here, though.’

‘That’s all right.’

The other copper closed a file and stood up. ‘I’m going, anyway. I don’t want to pry into your girlish secrets, Charlie.’ He gave me a keen glance as he went out. He’d know me again if he saw me.

Honnister sat at his desk and scowled. ‘Secretive crowd, your lot.’

I grinned. ‘I don’t see you wearing a copper’s uniform.’

‘I had one of your blokes on the blower this morning – chap by the name of Harrison – threatening me with the Tower of London and unnameable tortures if I talk about you.’

I sat down. ‘Joe Harrison is a silly bastard, but he means well.’

‘If anyone knows how to keep secrets it’s a copper,’ said Honnister. ‘Especially one in the plain clothes branch. I know enough local secrets to blow Marlow apart. Your chap ought to know that.’ He sounded aggrieved.

I cursed Harrison and his ham-fisted approach; if he’d queered my pitch with the local law I’d string him up by the thumbs when I got back. I said, ‘Inspector, I told you last night I had no official connection with Ashton. It was true then, but it is no longer true. My people now have a definite interest.’

He grunted. ‘I know. I’ve been asked to make an extra copy of all my reports on the Ashton case. As though I don’t have enough to do without producing a lot of bloody bumf for people who won’t even give me the time of day without consulting the Official Secrets Act.’ His resentment was growing.

I said quickly, ‘Oh, hell; you can forget that nonsense – just as long as I can see your file copies.’

‘You got authority for that?’

I smiled at him. ‘A man has all the authority he can take. I’ll carry the can if there’s a comeback.’

He stared at me and then his lips curved in amusement. ‘You and me will get on all right,’ he said. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘First, how’s the girl?’

‘We haven’t been allowed to talk to her so she must be pretty bad. And I need a description. I don’t even know the sex of the assailant.’

‘So that means no visitors.’

‘None except the family. Her sister has been at the hospital most of the day.’

I said, ‘I think I might be able to help you there. Suppose I got Penny to ask Gillian for a description. That would do to be going on with until you can ask her yourself.’ He nodded. ‘I won’t be seeing her until later. Where will you be tonight?’

‘Theoretically off duty. But I’ll be sinking a couple of pints in the Coach and Horses between nine and ten. I’m meeting someone who might give me a lead on another case. You can ring me there. Doyle, the landlord, knows me.’

‘Okay. Now, how have you got on with the acid?’

Honnister shrugged. ‘About as far as you’d expect. It’s battery acid, and the stuff’s too common. There are filling stations all around here, and then it might have come from somewhere else.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘To me this has the smell of a London job.’

‘Have you seen Ashton?’

‘Oh, yes, I’ve seen Ashton. He says he can think of absolutely no reason why his daughter should be attacked in such a manner. No reason whatsoever. It was like talking to a bloody stone wall.’

‘I’ll be talking to him myself tonight. Maybe I’ll get something.’

‘Does he know who – and what – you are?’

‘No, he doesn’t; and he mustn’t find out, either.’

‘You blokes lead interesting lives,’ said Honnister, and grinned crookedly. ‘And you wanting to marry his daughter, too.’

I smiled. ‘Where did you get that?’

‘Just pieced it together from what you told me last night, and from what one of the uniformed boys picked up when talking over a cuppa with the Ashtons’ maid. I told you I hear secrets – and I’m not a bad jack, even though I say it myself.’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Tell me a few secrets about Ashton.’

‘Not known to the police. Not criminally. The CPO had a few words with him.’

‘CPO?’

‘Crime Prevention Officer. There are a lot of big houses around here full of expensive loot worth nicking. The CPO calls in to check on the burglar-proofing. You’d be surprised how stupid some of these rich twits can be. A man will fill his house with a quarter of a million quids’ worth of paintings and antiques and balk at spending a couple of thousand on keeping the stuff safe.’

‘How is Ashton’s burglar-proofing?’

Honnister grinned. ‘It might rank second to the Bank of England,’ he conceded.

That interested me. ‘Anything more on Ashton?’

‘Nothing relevant. But he wasn’t the one who was attacked, was he?’ He leaned forward. ‘Have you thought of the possibility that Gillian Ashton might have been sleeping in the wrong bed? There are two things I think of when I hear of an acid attack on a woman; the first is that it could be a gangland punishment, and the other is that it’s one woman taking revenge on another.’

‘I’ve thought of it. Penny discounts it, and I don’t go much for it myself. I don’t think she’s the kind.’

‘Maybe, but I’ve been doing a bit of nosing around. I haven’t come up with anything yet, but I can’t discount it.’

‘Of course you can’t.’

I stood up, and Honnister said, ‘Don’t expect too much too quickly. In fact, don’t expect anything at all. I’ve no great hopes of this case. Anyway, we’ve not gone twenty-four hours yet.’

That was so, and it surprised me. So much had happened that day that it seemed longer. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll be in touch tonight.’

EIGHT

I drove in the direction of Ashton’s house and cruised around slowly, making circuits on the country roads and looking for anything out of the ordinary such as cars parked on the verge with people in them doing nothing in particular. There was nothing like that so after an hour of futility I gave up and drove directly to the house.

The gates were locked but there was a bell-push which I pressed. While I waited I studied the gates in the light of what Honnister had said about Ashton’s burglar-proofing. They were of ornamental wrought-iron, about ten feet high, very spiky on top, and hung on two massive stone pillars. They barred an opening in an equally high chainmesh fence, unobtrusive because concealed by trees, which evidently circled the estate. All very good, but the gates hadn’t been closed the day before.

Presently a man came down the drive, dressed in rough country clothes. I hadn’t seen him before. He looked at me through the gates and said curtly, ‘Yes?’

‘My name is Malcolm Jaggard. I’d like to see Mr Ashton.’

‘He’s not in.’

‘Miss Ashton?’

‘They’re not in, either.’

I tugged thoughtfully at my ear. ‘What about Benson?’

He looked at me for a moment, then said, ‘I’ll see.’ He stepped to one side behind one of the stone pillars and I heard a click and then the whirr of a telephone dial. There’s a phrase for what was happening; it’s known as closing the stable door after the horse has gone.

The man came back into sight and wordlessly began to unlock the gate, so I got back into the car and drove up to the house. Benson, in his courtly Boris Karloff manner, ushered me into the living-room, and said, ‘I don’t expect Miss Penelope will be long, sir. She rang to say she would be back at five.’

‘Did she say how Gillian is?’

‘No, sir.’ He paused, then shook his head slowly. ‘This is a bad business, sir. Disgracefully bad.’

‘Yes.’ I had always been taught that it is bad form to question servants about their masters, but I had no compunction now. Benson had never struck me as being one of your run-of-the-mill house servants, least of all at that very moment because, unless he’d developed a fast-growing tumour under his left armpit, he was wearing a gun. ‘I see you have a guard on the gate.’

‘Yes; that’s Willis. I’ll give him your name so he will let you in.’

‘How is Mr Ashton taking all this?’

‘Remarkably well. He went to his office as usual this morning. Would you care for a drink, sir?’

‘Thank you. I’ll have a scotch.’

He crossed the room, opened a cabinet, and shortly came back with a tray which he put on a small table next to my elbow. ‘If you will excuse me, sir.’

‘Thank you, Benson.’ He was not staying around to be questioned, but even if he had I doubted if I could have got much out of him. He tended to speak in clichés and bland generalities, but whether he thought that way was quite another matter.

I had not long to wait for Penny and was barely half way through the drink when she came into the room. ‘Oh, Malcolm; how good to see you. What a blessed man you are.’ She looked tired and drawn.

‘I said I’d come. How’s Gillian?’

‘A little better, I think. She’s getting over the shock.’

‘I’m very glad to hear it. I had a talk with Honnister, the police inspector in charge of the case. He wants to interview her.’

‘Oh, Malcolm; she’s not ready for that. Not yet.’ She came to me and I took her in my arms. ‘Is it that bad?’

She laid her head on my chest for a moment, and then looked up at me. ‘I don’t think you know how bad this sort of thing is for a woman. Women seem to care more for their appearance than men – I suppose we have to because we’re in the man-catching business, most of us. It’s not just the physical shock that’s hit Gillian; there’s the psychological shock, too.’