Here Be Monsters

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Here Be Monsters Page 26

by Anthony Price


  Beep-baaarp-beep!

  ‘Haddock.’ The two men measured each other for changes. ‘It’s been a long time. But you look well.’

  ‘A long time, indeed. So do you. still doing the same job? Much higher up, though?’

  ‘The same job, Haddock,’ said Audley gently. ‘I follow my destiny.’

  ‘Still on The Wall?’ Haddock Thomas looked at Elizabeth. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Loftus. An old joke—a very old joke, indeed.’

  She mustn’t let them patronize her. ‘But they say the old jokes are the best ones, Dr Thomas. May I share it?’

  ‘I don’t know that you will find it very amusing.’

  ‘An RAF joke?’ She watched him. ‘Or a Civil Service joke, perhaps? Or a schoolboy joke? Give me a clue.’

  He measured her with a look. Actually, he had measured her already, but with an eye only on bust and waist, hip and leg, quite unashamedly. But this time the measurement was a different one. ‘It is a Kipling joke, Miss Loftus. A Rudyard Kipling joke.’ The Welsh was more pronounced. ‘Are you a reader of the great mart’s works?’

  She dared not look at Audley. Paul always made outrageous fun of his obsessive weakness for Kipling, deliberately quoting back to him. But somehow she didn’t think this was that kind of joke. ‘I read him when I was a child, Dr Thomas.’

  ‘But not afterwards? A pity! Much of his best work is for grown-ups. But then the English have a blind spot there. Which is all part of their guilty misapprehension of their history, as well as of him. But no matter, eh?’ He was looking at Audley now. ‘I told him—oh, it must have been almost before you were born, I told him—that he would never gain preferment in his line of business … Or, that when it was offered to him, he would not want it—like Kipling’s Roman centurion … who was not a Roman at all, of course, for he had never seen Rome, nor known the heyday of Rome, but only lived with his legends and his illusions. But there! I told him he would gain no preferment, and receive no thanks, if he chose to serve on The Wall—the Great Wall—the wall which the Emperor Hadrian caused to be built, to keep out the dreadful barbarians, when he realized that the game couldn’t be won.’ He smiled. “The same emperor, my dear, who knew how small and defenseless and ephemeral was his soul—“Animula vagula blandula, hospes comes-que corpora” … But he would have none of it, for he knew the Roman’s reply: “I follow my destiny”, he said. And off he went!’

  ‘Harumph!’ grunted Audley. ‘One of the things you must understand about the Welsh, Elizabeth, is that they are greater liars than rugger players. For this is the advice I gave him, not the advice he gave me.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Haddock Thomas glanced at Audley for a second. ‘Well, let’s say that we gave each other the same advice, then? And I took his advice—but he did not take mine, eh?’

  Given half a chance they would go on sparring like this forever, thought Elizabeth. But if Peter Richardson was right they did not have forever left.

  ‘You had a visitor last week, Dr Thomas. An elderly American.’ She tried in vain to match Audley’s casual tone. ‘Can you tell us about him?’

  Haddock Thomas measured her again as he smoothed his thinning hair and replaced his panama.Then he shook a little brass bell which had been hidden on the table and gestured Elizabeth to an empty chair. ‘Yes … yes, I wondered about that.’ He smiled at her again. ‘After what David’s said, I mustn’t be a Welsh liar, must I?’

  She sat down. And she caught him admiring her legs as she crossed them carefully, the way she had been taught to do. ‘I beg your pardon—?’

  He gestured towards Audley. ‘Get a chair, David … It wasn’t really just his voice, Miss Loftus: he’s been in the back of my mind for a week or so … when I can’t honestly remember recalling him these last ten—or even twenty—years or more.’ He watched Audley retrieve another chair from the shadows under the vines. ‘But that’s not true, either … It’s more like never quite forgotten, but never quite remembered.’ He cocked his head at her. ‘One day you will discover how very protective memory is, my dear: it tries to dignify us as well as soothing our pain, so that we can believe that we are the masters of our fate … at least, if we are satisfied with the outcome, anyway—eh?’ Once again he was watching. ‘Free will is always better than predestination, don’t you think?’

  He was pushing her out of her depth, making her wonder how she had got here, to St Servan-les-Ruines, after all those years with Father.

  ‘The American reminded you of David?’ The memory of Father steeled her to the more important business in hand. ‘Major Parker?’

  ‘Major Parker—‘ For one fraction-of-a-second he looked clear through her ‘—Major Parker!’

  ‘Who saved your life?’

  ‘Is that the story now?’ Haddock Thomas looked past her. ‘Ah, Madame Sophie!’

  A minuscule Frenchwoman deposited two glasses and another bottle on the table, swept away the half-full bottle with a hiss of disapproval, and was gone before Elizabeth could react.

  Haddock Thomas shrugged at Elizabeth. ‘You didn’t knock at the front door, so she hasn’t looked you over—so she disapproves of you.’

  ‘But she’ll finish the bottle herself, nevertheless?’ said Audley.

  ‘That may well be.’ Haddock Thomas pointed at Audley. ‘You know too much, David—about people. That is one of the things I remember about you now.’ He filled the three glasses, and presented one to Elizabeth. ‘And you know too much about me, I am thinking now, Miss Loftus. For a stranger.’

  ‘She knows far too little about you, my dear fellow,’ said Audley, reaching for a glass. ‘That is the whole trouble.’

  ‘The whole trouble?’ Haddock Thomas looked at each of them in turn. ‘But whose trouble? Mine, would it be?’

  ‘Ours, Dr Thomas,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Didn’t Major Parker save you once? A long time ago?’

  ‘A very long time ago.’ He nodded. ‘But you know his name nevetheless. And you know he was here—a very short time ago. Did he tell you that?’

  ‘Did he save you?’

  ‘He plucked me from the sea—yes. He and a spotty-faced youth in a helmet much too big for him. I could have kissed them both. Perhaps I did, I don’t remember. Did Major Thaddeus Parker tell you that also?’

  ‘He didn’t tell us anything, Dr Thomas. He’s dead.’

  ‘Dead? How—?’ He looked at Audley suddenly. ‘Not my trouble, did you say?’

  ‘I didn’t say, as a matter of fact, Haddock.’ Audley sipped his wine. ‘Your trouble … perhaps. Mine—certainly.’

  Haddock Thomas said nothing for a moment, but simply stared at Audley. Then he started to say something, but stopped.

  ‘Why did Major Parker come to see you, Dr Thomas?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘Why should he not?’ Haddock Thomas still didn’t look at her. ‘How did he die, Miss Loftus?’

  ‘He was murdered, we think.’

  Again, Haddock Thomas didn’t react immediately. Instead he took up his own glass and turned away from them both, looking out over the valley beneath, full-face into the sun, drinking slowly but steadily until the glass was nearly empty. Then he poured he last of it on the ground at his feet.

  ‘They threw him over the cliff at the Pointe du Hoc, Haddock,’ said Audley brutally. ‘Just about where he climbed down that morning, before he rescued you. We think he may have had a rendezvous there. But it wasn’t the one he was expecting.’

  The old man turned slowly back to Audley, ignoring Elizabeth. ‘So it’s all starting again, is it, David? After all this time? Is that really possible, man?’

  Elizabeth was tired of being ignored. ‘Perhaps not, Dr Thomas.’

  This time he did look at her.

  ‘If it never ended, Dr Thomas—‘ She looked down Admiral Varney’s nose at him ‘—why then, it has no reason to start again, has it?’

  ‘Never ended.’ It wasn’t a question, he merely repeated the words. And it wasn’t hatred or anger in his eyes, let alone fear. But
it might be distaste. Then he turned to Audley once more. ‘What do you think, David? Or what do you believe—which is better?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what he believes.’ With a little practice she might catch an echo of Admiral Varney’s voice, too. ‘If Major Parker was a traitor, Dr Thomas, then what are you? That is what matters.’

  This time he didn’t look at her. ‘By damn, David! You’ve got a hard one here, and no mistake! Is this what it’s like now? Or maybe the one our Ruddy wrote about—

  ‘When you’re wounded and left on Afghanistan’s plains, And the women come out to cut what remains—One of them, maybe?’ He set his glass on the table and filled it to the brim, and then picked it up and turned towards her. ‘And if I am a traitor too, Miss Loftus—what then? Will you cut up these remains?’

  They were exactly where she had always feared they would be, once she had let herself be pushed too hard and too fast. But then, out of nowhere, she remembered Father. ‘Some people say youth is sweet, Dr Thomas.’ Her youth had not been sweet, that was what memory told her. ‘But I have observed that time running out is even more valuable when you are old. Is that so?’

  He still wasn’t frightened. But he showed his teeth when he smiled, for the first time, and she realized, also for the first time, that it wasn’t only the memory of Father that was driving her.

  ‘Is that some sort of threat, Miss Loftus?’

  But she had seen those teeth before. And they were not like Father’s at all, of course—Father’s had been his own, because he never ate sweets or took sugar in his tea.

  ‘Not a threat.’ She hadn’t touched her wine. ‘This is my first job, “in the field” as they say. Or “first combat mission”, for a Spitfire pilot, would that be?’ She tipped her glass, and the wine slashed out like a pool of blood, engulfing the few drops he had spilt. ‘I sent a colleague out yesterday to inquire into your past.’ Some of the wine had splashed on her shoes, staining them indelibly, she noticed. ‘So now he’s dead. Do you have any explanation for that, Dr Thomas?’

  Haddock Thomas stared at her in astonishment. Then he looked at Audley—who was also staring at her. ‘Do you have an explanation, David?’

  Audley turned his head slowly, without taking his eyes off her until he was almost facing the old man.’ The received wisdom is that I made a mistake, Haddock. Long ago.’

  ‘A mistake?’

  ‘About you.’ Audley paused. ‘Or if not you, then Peter Barrie, maybe.’

  ‘Peter Barrie? That’s foolishness, man!’

  ‘Yes. That’s what Peter Barrie said—about you.’

  Haddock Thomas moistened his lips. ‘Have you any evidence?’

  ‘Two dead men is what we have,’ said Elizabeth.

  Audley shook his head. ‘Not a thing. But then, if I did make a mistake … then you’re good. One of you—or both of you.’

  ‘And if you didn’t make a mistake?’

  Audley drew in a deep breath. ‘Let me make a picture for you, old comrade—if that’s what you are—if I made a mistake.’ He drew in another breath. ‘Long ago … something went wrong on the Other Side—something slipped. So there had to be a salvage job, to save their inside man.’ Another breath. ‘If it was Peter, then they acted very quickly: he resigned, and became a nobody. There was no evidence against him—he just had to start again somewhere else. If it was you … if it was you, they were a bit slower. Or they decided to take more of a risk. But in the end they reckoned you’d never be altogether trusted. So you started again, too.’ Audley shrugged. ‘You each did well, anyway. And in the way they wanted you to do well, like maggots in an apple.’

  Haddock Thomas sat back. ‘A maggot, am I? But—‘

  Audley raised a finger. ‘There’s more. One of you—or both. Plus Delphi Marsh, of course.’

  The old man sat up. ‘Now, David—‘

  ‘She would have been your contact. Or your alibi. She complicated things very nicely at the time—moving from one of you to the other, as required. I spent a lot of time on her. Maybe she was my real mistake.’

  Haddock Thomas’s jaw tightened. ‘Now, you can leave Delphi out of this, David. Make all the pictures you like of me, and of Peter. But leave her out of them.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t. Because she comes in again, you see.’

  ‘Again? What?’ The old man’s hands tightened into bony fists on his lap. ‘How?’

  ‘Our colleague who died yesterday was looking into Delphi’s death, Haddock,’ said Audley gently. ‘He couldn’t have found anything so quickly. But I think I know what he didn’t have time to find, in any case.’ He switched to Elizabeth suddenly. ‘You see, Elizabeth, Mrs Delphi Thomas wasn’t pregnant when she had her road accident. And that isn’t a picture—that’s a fact.’ He turned back to the old man. ‘Sorry, Haddock.’

  The old man shook his head. ‘No need to be sorry, man. We only invented that baby to make Peter angry, rather than sad. It was the least we could do for him, to make him hate us both.’

  ‘Was that it?’ Audley cocked his head. ‘Well, indeed! And I always thought she trapped you with it! Now there’s a turn-up for the book!’

  ‘Not so clever, eh?’ The old man wasn’t smiling. ‘And is that your picture, then?’ He frowned suddenly. ‘But then … if you believed that … then you can hardly believe your picture, David—?’

  ‘Not a word of it.’ Audley sounded almost cheerful. ‘I spent a lot of time on you—all three of you. And I was in my prime then, not the doddering fool I am now. And now I’ve all the wisdom of hindsight to add.’

  ‘And what does hindsight add?’

  ‘Well, for a start, if either you or Peter have been working for the Other Side these twenty-thirty years, you damn well haven’t earned your keep. I had a devil’s advocate run-down on you both, a couple of days back. And, in your very different ways you both qualify for the firing squad—but theirs, not ours, old comrade.’

  Elizabeth sat up. ‘You never told me that, David.’

  ‘You never asked, Elizabeth. And, besides, I wanted you to come to your own conclusion.’ He shrugged unapologetically.

  ‘I see.’ Haddock Thomas poured himself another drink. ‘But then, again, I do not see at all.’

  ‘What don’t you see?’

  ‘I don’t see why you are here—here to rake up a past which I have no desire to recall in this fashion.’

  ‘My dear Haddock, I do not want to be here.’ Audley sniffed, and held out his glass to be refilled. ‘As a matter of fact, I was busy with something much more important than raking up your fairly innocent past.’

  ‘But two men are dead, nevertheless.’ Haddock Thomas turned to Elizabeth. ‘He talked about old times, Miss Loftus—Major Parker did. He said he had come back for the D-Day anniversary, and he thought he’d look me up. He had very little to say. But then we really didn’t have anything in common.’

  ‘Least of all treason,’ murmured Audley.

  ‘But now he is dead.’ The old man stared across his valley again, shading his eyes with his hand. ‘And your colleague is also dead. While investigating … ’He trailed off. ‘And for those two reasons—not wholly inadequate reasons, I must now admit—for those two reasons you are here, David. In fact … in view of our shared past, you could really hardly avoid coming to see me—no matter that you believed me to be innocent. Perhaps that might even supply a greater compulsion—‘ He half-looked at Elizabeth ‘—rather than leave me to other tender mercies … ’ He returned his gaze to the distant hillside. ‘When the received wisdom (whatever that may entail … but “received wisdom” is difficult to argue with, I agree!)—the received wisdom is that you made a mistake.’ He continued to stare across the valley, but fell silent now.

  Elizabeth found herself wishing that she hadn’t poured her drink on the ground. She was thirsty, and she had ruined her shoes. And for a moment she had also shown herself an Elizabeth Loftus who rather frightened her.

  ‘But I didn’t make a mis
take,’ said Audley.

  Elizabeth gave him a look of pure hatred, which she couldn’t disguise.

  ‘He’s getting drunk again, you see, Elizabeth.’ Audley brushed aside her hatred. ‘He must have a liver like an old boot. I remember getting him drunk back in ‘58—very drunk … and it wasn’t difficult even then.’

  ‘You didn’t make a mistake,’ agreed Haddock Thomas. ‘But, whereas that is what you believe, it is what I know, you see, David. Marxism, with all its egregious little heresies, socialism included, has never attracted me.’

  ‘I know. You spent a whole night telling me, indirectly.’ Audley smiled at Elizabeth. ‘The uniting theme of all classical literature is the right and wrong uses of authority—Antigone telling Creon to go bowl his hoop, according to Sophocles, and also Augustus in Res Gestae … You made a great impression on me that night, Haddock. I just couldn’t see you doing a Philby on us.’

  ‘No?’ Haddock seemed to be fascinated by something far below and far away. ‘I’m flattered.’

  ‘You should be.’ Audley closed his eyes. ‘”This amazing mental dimension, where nothing is barred, and the extent to which you can think is only limited by the limits of your own comprehension and imagination: it’s like being let into the Universe itself—the whole atmoshpere of the classics is of a boundless, expanding, gloriously fascinating, bloody marvellous universe—and let’s throw our thoughts out there!”’

  ‘Did I say all that? Well, I must have been pissed, I agree!’ The far-away horizon still engrossed the old man. ‘And you must have a bloody-marvellous memory, David.’

  ‘No. Just a tape-recorder under the table. We weren’t so good with bugs then, but you didn’t know the difference. And I played it again just the day before yesterday, to refresh my not-so-bloody-marvellous memory. We didn’t have bugs, but we weren’t wholly inefficient.’

  ‘But you have made a mistake, nevertheless.’ Haddock Thomas turned to Audley at last.

  Audley opened his mouth, then closed it. ‘What did I do wrong?’

  ‘Nothing then.’ Haddock Thomas looked sad. ‘But everything now, I suspect.’

 

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