Flyaway

As I stood in the doorway of the living-room Ellis rose from an armchair, laying aside a newspaper. He looked at me questioningly. 'Max?'

I was suddenly aware of the beard — now neatly trimmed by a barber Hesther, had brought in, the light-coloured suit of a decidedly foreign cut, and the black silk sling which cradled my left arm. I suppose that to Jack it was a disguise. 'Hello, Jack.'

'Well, for God's sake! Come in.' He seemed glad to see me.

I was aware of Judy hovering in the background. 'Er… this isn't a social call, Jack. I want to talk to you.'

'I hope to God it isn't,' he said. 'And I want to talk to you. Where have you been? Come into my study.'

He hustled me away and I smiled pleasantly at Judy hi passing. In the study he offered me a chair. 'What's wrong with the arm?'

'Just broken,' I smiled. 'It only hurts when I laugh.'

'God, I'm glad to see you. You just disappeared, and I didn't know where to look. All hell's been breaking loose.'

'I've not been away long — just over a month,' I said mildly. 'You haven't lost your grip in so short a time?'

'If you want to put it that way, I suppose I have.' His voice was grim. 'But I never had much grip to begin with, did I?'

It was evident that something was griping him so I said, 'Give me a drink, sit down and tell me all about it.'

He took a deep breath, then said, 'Sorry.' He left the room and returned with a tray on which were bottles and glasses. 'Scotch okay?' I nodded, and as he poured the drinks he said, 'As soon as you left the whole character of the company changed.'

'In what way?'

'Well, as a minor example, we're now letting dogs out without handlers.' He handed me a glass.

'Starting with Electronomics,' I suggested.

He looked at me in surprise. 'How did you know that?'

'Never mind. Go on.'

He sat down and looked broodingly into the glass which he held cradled in his hands. 'The big thing is that we're now up to our necks in industrial espionage. You've been away six weeks and I'm already running three penetration exercises.'

'Are you, by God? On whose authority?'

'Charlie Malleson twisted my arm.'

I stared at him. 'Jack, you're not there to take instructions from Charlie. He's just the bloody accountant — a number juggler. You're supposed to be standing in for me — running the operational side — and that doesn't mean penetration operations. We're in security; that's what the name of the firm means. Now, how did Charlie twist your arm?'

Ellis shrugged. 'He just told me to do it'

'Didn't you squawk?'

'Of course I bloody well squawked.' His ire was rising. 'But what the hell could I do? I'm not a shareholder, and he brought Brinton in to back him up, and when the bosses say "Do!", you do. Max, this last week I've been on the verge of quitting, but I held on in the hope that you'd come back. He stuck his finger out at me. 'Any moment from now I'm going to get instructions to penetrate one of our own clients. That would be a laugh, wouldn't it? Playing both ends against the middle. But it's not what I joined the firm for.'

'Not very ethical,' I agreed. 'Take it easy, Jack; we'll sort this out You say Charlie brought in Lord Brinton?'

The old bastard is in and out all the time now.' Jack caught himself. 'Sorry. I forgot he's a friend of yours.'

'Not particularly. You say he comes to the office frequently?'

'Two or three times a week. He has himself driven two whole blocks in his Rolls-Royce.'

'Does he have access to files?'

Jack shrugged. 'Not through me. I don't know about Charlie.'

'Oh, we can't have that.' I thought about it for a moment, then said, 'I talked about you to Charlie before I left It was agreed that if you could handle my job then you'd be made managing director. That would entitle you to a parcel of shares because that's the way we work. I was going to start operations in Europe — go for the multinationals. Didn't Charlie say anything about this?'

'Not a word.'

'I see.' I sipped my scotch. 'This is a surprising development but it's not what I came to see you about. Remember what we were doing just before I left?'

He nodded. 'Looking for a half-wit called Billson.'

'Well, I found him, and that led to other things. I want you to re-open the account of Michelmore, Veasey and Templeton, but do it quietly. Don't open a formal file, and keep all details locked away from prying eyes.'

'Same as before?'

'Exactly the same as before. No one sees it — especially not Charlie or Brinton. Now, this is what I want you to do.' As I reeled off my requirements Jack's eyes got bigger. I ended up by saying, 'Oh yes; and that analytical chemist must be a forensic type, able to go on to the stand in court as an expert witness.'

He looked up from the notebook in which he was scribbling. 'Quite a packet.'

'Yes. Now, don't worry about what's happening to the firm. Leave that in my hands and I'll sort it out. Carry on as usual. One more thing, Jack; I'm not in England. You haven't seen me tonight I'll arrive at the office unexpectedly one day. Okay?'

He grinned. 'Catching them in the act?'

'Something like that.'

I went away leaving Jack a great deal less troubled in the mind than when I'd arrived. I gave the driver Alix Aarvik's address in Kensington and sat back wandering how that pair of cheapjack bastards thought they could get away with it. It was very puzzling because I was the majority shareholder.

Alix Aarvik was in and pleased to see me. As she ushered me in to the living-room she said, 'Oh, you've hurt yourself.'

'Not irrevocably. Have you been keeping well?'

'I'm all right. Would you like coffee?'

'Thank you.'

She was busily domestic for a few minutes, then she said, 'I like your beard — it suits you.' She suddenly blushed because she'd said something personal to a comparative stranger.

'Thank you. I might keep it on that recommendation.' I paused, 'Miss Aarvik, I've found your brother.' I raised my hand. 'He's quite well and undamaged and he's back in England.'

She sat down with a bump. 'Oh, thank God!'

'Rather thank a man called Byrne; he got Paul out of most of the holes he got himself into. Paul will tell you about it.'

'Where was he?'

I thought of Koudia and Atakor and the Tassili. 'In North Africa. He found his father, Miss Aarvik.' Her hand flew to her mouth. 'I suppose the story will be breaking in the newspapers quite soon. A complete vindication, making nonsense of all the malicious speculation.'

'0h, I'm so glad!' she said. 'But where is Paul now?'

I wondered whether or not to take her into my confidence. She was much more level-headed than Paul, but in the end I decided against it. The truth, if and when it came out, would be so explosive that the fewer in the know the better, and there must be no possible way of Paul getting to know it.

I said carefully, 'Newspapermen in a hurry can be highly inaccurate. We'll be holding a press conference in a few days' time and Paul and I are honing our statements — making sure they're just right. I'd rather he wasn't disturbed until then.'

She nodded understandingly. 'Yes,' she said. 'I know Paul. That would be better.'

'You may find that Paul has changed,' I said. 'He's different.'

'How?'

I shrugged. 'I think you'll find that he's a better man than he was.'

She thought about that for a moment but couldn't make anything of it. 'Were you with Paul when you found… the body?'

'Yes, and so was Byrne. We helped Paul bury it.' I neglected to say that we'd helped him twice.

'Who is Byrne?'

I smiled. 'A difficult man to describe. You could call him a white Targui, except that a lot of Tuareg are as white as we are. He says he used to be an American. A very fine man. Your brother owes him a lot.'