Bagley, Desmond - The Enemy

by The Enemy

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX In view of what had been said at the meeting Ogilvie's decision came as a profound surprise. The worst possibility that had come to mind was that I would be fired; drummed out of the department after my special card had been put through the office shredding machine. The best that occurred to me was a downgrading or a sideways promotion. I had the idea that Ogilvie had not been entirely joking when he had spoken of the Hebrides. That he was carrying on with the Ashton case, and putting me in charge, gave me a jolt. I wondered how he was going to make it stick with the Minister. He told me. 'The Minister won't know a damned thing about it' He gave me a wintry smile. 'The advantage of organizations like ours is that we really are equipped to work in secret.' This conversation took place in the privacy of his office. He had refused to speak of the case at all after dropping his bombshell and the luncheon conversation had been innocuous. Back at the office he plunged into the heart of it. 'What I am about to do is unethical and possibly mutinous,' he said. 'But, in this case, I think I'm justified.' 'Why?' I asked directly. If I was going to be involved I wanted to know the true issues. 'Because someone has done a conjuring trick. This department has been deceived and swindled. Who organized the deception is for you to find out—it may have been Ashton himself, for all we know. But I want to know who organized it, and why.' 'Why pick me? As Cregar made plain, I've not done too well up to now.' Ogilvie raised his eyebrows. 'You think not? You've satisfied me, and I'm the only man who matters. There are several reasons why I've picked you. First, you're the totally unexpected choice. Secondly, you are still the inside man in the Ashton family. Thirdly, I have complete confidence in you.' I stood up and went to the window. A couple of pigeons were engaged in amorous play on the window ledge but flew away as I approached. I turned and said, 'I'm grateful for your thirdly, but not too happy about your secondly. As you know, I dropped into the middle of the Ashton case sheerly by chance and ever since then my private life has been intolerably disturbed. I have just harried a man to his death and you expect me to be persona grata with his daughters?' 'Penelope Ashton doesn't know of your involvement. I made sure of that.' 'That's not the point, and you know it,' I said sharply. 'You're too intelligent a man not to know what I mean. You're asking me to live a lie with the woman I want to marry—if she still wants to marry me, that is.' 'I appreciate the difficulty,' said Ogilvie quietly. 'You mustn't think I don't. But . . .' 'And don't ask me to do it for the good of the department,' I said. 'I hope I have higher loyalties than that.' Ogilvie quirked his eyebrows. 'Your country, perhaps?' 'Even than that.' 'So you believe with E. M. Forster that if you had to choose between betraying your country and betraying your friend you would hope to have the guts to betray your country. Is that it?' 'I'm not aware that betraying my country comes into this,' I said stiffly. 'Oh, I don't know,' said Ogilvie musingly. 'Betrayal takes many forms. Inaction can be as much betrayal as action, especially for a man who has chosen your work of his own will. If you see a man walking on a bridge which you know to be unsafe, and you do not warn him so that he falls to his death, you are guilty in law of culpable homicide. So with betrayal.' 'Those are mere words,' I said coolly. 'You talk about betrayal of the country when all I see is an interdepartmental squabble in which your amour propre has been dented. You loathe Cregar as much as he loathes you.' Ogilvie looked up. 'How does Cregar come into this? Do you know something definite?' 'He's been trying to poke his nose in, hasn't he? Right from the beginning.' 'Oh, is that all,' said Ogilvie tiredly. 'It's just the nature of the beast. He's a natural scorer of points; it feeds his enormous ego. I wouldn't jump to conclusions about Cregar.' He stood up and faced me. 'But I really am sorry about your opinion of me. I thought I deserved better than that.' 'Oh, Christ!' I said. 'I'm sorry; I didn't really mean that. It's just that this thing with Penny has me all mixed up. The thought of talking to her—lying to her—makes me cringe inside.' 'Unfortunately it goes with the job. We're liars by profession, you and I. We say to the world we work for McCulloch and Ross, economic and industrial consultants, and that's a lie. Do you think my wife and daughters really know what I do? I lie to them every minute of every day merely by existing. At least Penny Ashton knows what you are.' 'Not all of it,' I said bitterly. 'You're not to blame for Ashton's death.' I raised my voice. 'No? I drove him to it.' 'But you didn't kill him. Who did?' 'Benson did, damn it!' Ogilvie raised his voice to a shout. 'Then find out why, for God's sake! Don't do it for me, or even for yourself. All her life that girl of yours has been living in the same house as the man who eventually murdered her father. Find out why he did it—you might even be doing it for her sake.' We both stopped short suddenly and there was silence in the room. I said quietly, 'You might have made your point—at last.' He sat down. 'You're a hard man to convince. You mean I've done it?' 'I suppose so.' He sighed. 'Then sit down and listen to me.' I obliged him, and he said, 'You're going to be in disgrace for a while. Everybody will expect that, including the Minister. Some sort of downgrading is indicated, so I'm going to make you a courier. That gives you freedom of action to move around in this country, and even out of it.' He smiled. 'But I'd hesitate about going back to Sweden.' So would I. Captain Morelius would become positively voluble, even to the extent of speaking three consecutive sentences. And I knew what he'd say. 'We've been making quite a noise in here,' said Ogilvie. 'Had a real shouting match. Well, that will add verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative. There's one thing about being in an organization of spies—news gets around fast. You may expect some comments from your colleagues; can you stand that?' I shrugged. 'I've never worried much about what people think of me.' 'Yes,' he agreed. 'Cregar discovered that when he first met you. All right; you'll have complete autonomy on this job. You'll do it in the way you want to do it, but it will be a solo operation; you'll have all the assistance I can give you short of men. You'll report your results to me and to no one else. And I do expect results.' He opened a drawer and took out a slim file. 'Now, as for Penny Ashton, I laid some groundwork which will possibly help you. As far as she knows you have been in America for the past few weeks. I hope you didn't write from Sweden.' 'I didn't.' 'Good. She has been tactfully informed that you have been away on some mysterious job that has debarred you from writing to her. Knowing what she thinks she knows about your work it should seem feasible to her. However, you were informed of her father's death through the department, and you sent this cable.' He passed the slip of paper across the desk. It was a genuine Western Union carbon copy emanating from Los Angeles. The content was trite and convention al, but it would have to do. Ogilvie said, 'You also arranged for wreaths at the funeral through a Los Angeles flower shop and Interflora. The receipt from the flower shop is in this file together with other bits and pieces which a man might expect to pick up on a visit and still retain. There are theatre ticket stubs for current shows in Los Angeles, some small denomination American bills, book matches from hotels, and so on. Empty your pockets.' The request took me by surprise and I hesitated. 'Come now,' he said. 'Dump everything on the desk.' I stripped my pockets. As I took out my wallet Ogilvie delved in the small change I had produced. 'You see,' he said in triumph, and held up a coin. 'A Swedish crown mixed with your English money. It could have been a dead giveaway. I'll bet you have a couple of Swedish items in your wallet. Get rid of them.' He was right. There was a duplicate bar bill from the Grand which had yet to be transferred to my expense account, and a list of pound-kroner exchange rates made when I was trying to keep up with the vagaries of the falling pound sterling. I exchanged them for the Americana, and said, 'You were sure of me, after all.' 'Pretty sure,' he said dryly. 'You got back from the States yesterday. Here is your air ticket—you can leave it lying around conspicuously somewhere. Penny Ashton, to the best of my knowledge, is coming back from Scotland tomorrow. You didn't buy any Swedish clothing?' 'No.' 'There are a couple of shirts and some socks in that small case over there. Also some packets of cigarettes. All genuine American. Now, leave here, go back to y
our office and mope disconsolately. You've just been through the meat grinder and you can still feel the teeth. I expect Harrison will want to see you in about half an hour. Don't try to score any points off him; let him have his little triumph. Remember you're a beaten man, Malcolm—and good luck.' So I went back to the office and slumped behind my desk. Larry rustled his paper and avoided my eyes, but presently he said, 'I hear you were with the top brass all morning.' 'Yes,' I said shortly. 'Was Cregar there?' 'Yes.' 'Bad?' 'You'll know all about it soon,' I said gloomily. 'I don't think I'll be around here much longer.' 'Oh.' Larry fell silent for a while, then he turned a page and said, 'I'm sorry, Malcolm. It wasn't your fault.' 'Somebody has to get the axe.' 'Mmm. No, what I meant is I'm sorry about you and Penny. It's going to be difficult.' I smiled at him. 'Thanks, Larry. You're right, but I think I'll make out.' Ogilvie was right in his prediction. Within the hour Harrison rang and told me to report to his office. I went in trying to appear subdued and for once did not address him as Joe, neither did I sit down. He kept me standing. 'I understand from Mr. Ogilvie that you are leaving this section.' 'I understand so, too.' 'You are to report to Mr. Kerr tomorrow.' His eyes glinted with ill-suppressed joy. He had always thought me too big for my britches and now I was demoted to messenger-boy—thus are the mighty fallen. 'This is really very difficult, you know,' he said fretfully. 'I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to clean out your desk before you leave today. There'll be another man coming in, of course.' 'Of course,' I said colourlessly. 'I'll do that.' 'Right,' he said, and paused. I thought for a moment he was going to give me a homily on the subject of mending my ways, but all he said was, 'You may leave, Jaggard.' I went and cleared out my desk.