A Prospect of Vengeance

He was playing dirty. So she could play the same game.

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'Whereas in fact you were very clever? Is that what I'm supposed to say?'

He looked down at her, almost proudly. 'Not very clever, Miss Fielding. But we did take your revenge for you even if we didn't kill him. Because we made a fool of him for a few years. And when his masters found out about that — which they've either just done ... or maybe it was a year or two back . . . then he would have gone down a very long snake on the board, I rather think.' He shrugged. 'We can never do what we'd like to do. We have to settle for what we want. So our satisfaction is usually somewhat muted, you see. But we have assuredly ruined him, you can depend on that. And maybe worse.'

She saw. 'And I must believe all this — ?'

'You must believe what suits you. Or ... you can ask Mr Robinson what he believes, if you prefer?'

Jenny thought of Ian suddenly. 'Ian asked you a question, didn't he? About Mrs Fitzgibbon, was it — ?'

'Yes.' She was rewarded with another of his odd faces. 'I must say that you did very well there: I'm surprised — and a little disturbed — that you got so close to her, after all this time.

Because you wouldn't have got it from Paul ... of that, I'm sure.' He frowned. 'But . . . you're certainly in the right job, anyway.'

He was flattering the wrong partner, thought Jenny grimly.

'What was the question?'

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'The question?' He frowned again. 'Don't you — ' A slight sound, as of a stone dislodged somewhere behind her, cut him off. 'Ah! I think that's my wife coming — '

'What was the question, Dr Audley?'

Audley looked at her. 'He wanted to know who Frances Fitzgibbon shouted at, that day at Thornervaulx: whether it was at the man O'Leary, or at Paul Mitchell, Miss Fielding.'

'At — ?' The scene Reg Buller had described suddenly came back to her, and with all the more vividness for its contrast, here on the top of the Greater Arapile: not fierce Spanish sunlight, in the midst of a brown rocky wilderness only softened by autumn crocuses, but the pouring rain, and the sodden grass and fallen leaves, and the great grey ruins of Thornervaulx Abbey.

'Yes.' He misread her expression. 'He knew the answer, of course. But it was still a good question. With a rare answer.'

The two places had nothing in common.

'When she saw O'Leary at Thornervaulx that day, she must have thought he was going to kill one of them — Paul, or Jack Butler. . .And Jack Butler for choice, maybe. But, of course, we don't exactly know what she thought. Because she died in Paul's arms, without saying anything.'

Or, maybe, there was something: there was violent death —

here, today and long ago, and at Thornervaulx, nine years ago, on a wet November afternoon.

'But, even though she didn't have a gun, she was safe enough, dummy2

anyway — '

Philly was the link — Philly and Audley —

'Only, if she shouted at Paul, that would have alerted him too late — either for himself, or for Jack Butler. Because O'Leary had a clear view of them both, by then — '

Mrs David Audley was tall and blonde, and a lot younger than her husband: obviously, she liked older men too, even though she was smiling at Ian as he helped her up across the rocks from below —

'So she shouted at O'Leary, Miss Fielding. And she must have known that he'd think she had a gun.' Audley glanced towards his wife for a second, to make sure she was far enough away. 'I didn't actually see it happen. But I saw something like it happen in the war, once . . . It's not a thing you forget: one human being dying for another, in cold blood.' He nodded slowly at her. 'She was quite a woman, was Frances. But I think she'd prefer not to have any publicity now.'

' David!' Mrs Audley didn't sound too pleased.

'Hullo, love!' Audley looked at Jenny for one last fraction of a second after acknowledging his name. 'What you must decide, Miss Fielding, is what your godfather would have wanted you to do. That's all.' He turned back to his wife.

'Love — I don't think you've met Jenny Fielding — ? She's a friend of Willy Arkenshaw's, and she's dying to meet you.'

Jenny saw Ian behind Mrs David Audley. And, behind Ian, dummy2

Miss Cathy Audley, bright and pointy-eared as the fox in the rocks down below.

And Reg Buller, finally.

And Reg Buller, knowing everything and nothing, had eyes for her only. Because she would sign his account, and agree his expenses. And they were both still alive.

'Lady—?'

Tomorrow was another day, he was saying.

EPILOGUE

Another conversation which never took place

'I'm not at all pleased with the way this wretched affair finally turned out, Latimer.'

'Yes, I do agree. It was quite unnecessarily violent. But that's the Spaniards for you. And they are actually rather pleased with us: they've wanted to settle with that Irishman ever since the Basques hired him to blow up that general of theirs.'

'They left it damnably late, though. Aguirre could have taken the man long before. Straight off the plane, in fact —

with no shooting. And no risk to Audley's family — I really didn't like that at all, Latimer.'

'Yes. But we couldn't tell Aguirre what to do, Jack — could we? And, of course, I suppose he wanted as many of MacManus's ETA contacts as possible: it was obvious that dummy2

the man would call in their help to trace Audley once he knew where Fielding and Robinson were going.'

'And how the devil did he know that?'

'We're not quite sure, as yet. But he did have the Romanians to help him, of course. And they could have leaned on one of Buller's friends just as we did. But Aguirre assured me there'd be no risk to Audley.'

'There's always a risk . . . And there's also the death of that fellow Tully. The Special Branch has already been on to me about that. They seem to think MacManus was responsible.'

'Yes . . . well, that was a little rumour I let slip on the grapevine, Jack. So now that he's dead they'll most likely settle for "person or persons unknown", I shouldn't wonder.'

'But Mitchell says it wasn't MacManus.'

'No, I agree. It was most likely one of the Romanians — the Departamentul de Informatii Externe doing its stuff . . .

Mitchell's pretty sure that MacManus's minder was one of their officers. And it seems they're missing one of their trade attachés, so that fits. Plus Masson was their murder-victim originally, of course: the whole thing was their project, ab initio . . . '

'And they've caused all the trouble now. Damned Romanians! I'd almost rather deal with the Russians, I sometimes think.'

'Yes . . . well, I rather hope we can leave it to the Russians to sort out now, Jack. Because they're not at all pleased with the dummy2

Departamentul as of now. In fact, there are going to be some heads rolling before very long. We may even pick up a defector or two — I have had a word with Jaggard about that, actually.'

'Well, just make sure it doesn't get into the newspapers.

Otherwise it'll only stir up that damn Fielding woman even more.'