The Alamut Ambush

But he wasn't going to get off as easily as that.

'They pulled it down with a Land-Rover,' said Roskill, 'Not the whole tree – just one big branch. The tyre-marks are perfectly plain dummy2

when you know what you're looking for.'

He reached under the dashboard for the envelope.

'Photographs, diagram and report – all in there.'

Audley slid the material half out of the envelope, riffled through the photos briefly and then pushed it all back.

'You didn't talk to anyone?'

'I didn't talk to anyone. Nobody saw me. And I developed the pictures myself.' Roskill kept his tone neutral. 'It's our own little Top Secret.'

'We'll keep it that way, then.' Audley slipped the envelope between the pages of his magazine. 'I don't want anyone round while we're checking up on Jenkins. I don't even want them to know that we're checking on him, in fact. The chances are that they'll find out sooner or later, but I want to put that off as long as possible. But I don't want to tell any lies, so I think our lines should be what Kipling called "suppressio veri, suggestio falsi" – do you understand, Hugh?'

Roskill understood very well, and bitterly too: once Llewelyn found out that they were investigating Jenkins he would soon put two and two together. And the moment he realised he was in no danger the joke was over. Indeed, to get a full and perfect revenge Audley needed to complete his assignment first, for only then would it become a matter of record and unsuppressible.

But it was a sad thing that the only way Jenkins could be avenged was by enabling Audley to indulge his own private feud...

'I understand that perfectly well,' he said evenly. 'We're going to dummy2

make him sweat.'

'Make him sweat – yes.' Audley turned in his seat and looked hard at Roskill for a moment. 'But I don't think you do fully understand, all the same. At a guess I'd say you're thiking that there's not much to choose between Llewelyn and me – a couple of right bastards.

But I just happen to be the bastard who suits you at the moment –

is that right?'

It was a question that didn't admit equivocation.

'I think,' said Roskill reluctantly, 'that you can do the right thing for a paltry reason. In this case your reason doesn't – dignify – what we're doing.'

Audley nodded thoughtfully. 'A petty vendetta? Yes, I can see your line of thought. I ought to have seen it before. And there's something in it, too. But you knew that when you came back to tempt me last night, and it didn't stop you.'

'I'm not complaining. You asked rne a question and I gave you an honest answer. And as you said, it suits me well enough.'

Then perhaps I ought to question your motives too, my dear Hugh

– I ought to wonder why they were so sure of you.'

'I told you last night – I recruited Jenkins in the first place.'

"Not good enough."

'I know his family too.'

'Still not good enough. You also admitted last night that you weren't to blame. There isn't enough there for a guilt complex.'

Audley paused, waiting in vain for an answer.

dummy2

'Very well, then! Let's get back to my base motives for a moment. I admit that the chance of making a fool of Dai Llewelyn did attract me – it still does. But it wasn't enough to make me change my mind. It was the fact that it was Jenkins and not Llewelyn who was the target – I find that very interesting. The poor boy said it was interesting the moment before he died, and by God he was right!'

Roskill frowned. He had been so busy with practical problems that he hadn't really faced up to the ultimate one. It had simply hidden itself at the back of his mind, nagging at him: why the hell would anyone blow up Alan?

'You see, Hugh,' Audley continued, 'Llewelyn isn't such a bad candidate for assassination, because in his own way he's a pretty important person. I know Butler said he wasn't up to anything. But when you wield the sort of influence Llewelyn does there'll always be sufficient motive for somebody to have a go, if that's the way they're inclined.

'But Jenkins wasn't important. At least, he shouldn't have been. Yet he suddenly became supremely important to somebody.'

'Somebody who knew too bloody much about the way the Department works, too,' said Roskill. 'They must have known exactly what would happen if Maitland couldn't be contacted.'

'They also knew where Llewelyn was. They knew how everyone's mind worked.' There was a note of puzzlement in Audley's voice.

'Yet if it was accidental death they wanted to simulate they set about it in the most extraordinary manner. A simple road accident would have been so much neater. Nobody would have thought twice about it. Unless of course they didn't know where Jenkins dummy2

lived. Did he live in some inaccessible place?'

'I really don't know.' Roskill thought hard. 'He was always changing his digs, certainly. I think he did it to get his old girlfriends off his back – he'd never leave a forwarding address.'

'Well, that might account for it.' Audley's head bobbed. 'They had to catch up with him quickly and they didn't know where to find him. But they knew what his job was – that really might explain it!'

It was a cold thought: failing to find him, they had created a situation in which Jenkins and his death had converged on each other, with death riding in a Vanden Plas Princess.

They were both silent for a time. Then Audley spoke.

'The point is, Hugh, I don't think other people will see things quite the way we do. When they realise that the heat's off Llewelyn I think there'll be a great big sigh of relief higher up. Then the reaction will set in; they won't want too much fuss and bother.

They won't want any awkwardness. And that will mean that they won't want us poking around, because we're liable to become awkward. They know me too well already – and you've got this mysterious personal stake of yours...'

Audley tailed off, waiting once more for an explanation. But that was in line with what everyone said about the man: the facts and figures were never enough for him – he nagged endlessly at the whys behind them. So now he'd never give up, he'd never leave such a loose end as Roskill's motive for vengeance untied behind him.

'Let me put it another way, Hugh. There's got to be some mutual dummy2

trust between us. I've trusted you. Don't you think you can trust me?'

Roskill looked at him in surprise. 'You've trusted me?'

'I have indeed! Last night I chose to believe that you thought out the Jenkins angle on your own, without any prompting from Butler. I've given you the benefit of the doubt, in fact.'

'What doubt?'

'My dear fellow – hasn't it occurred to you that Llewelyn might have calculated that I couldn't resist making a fool of him? I wouldn't put it past him, you know!'

'But the facts – when you look at the facts, David. Llewelyn didn't bring down that tree, damn it!'

'Facts can be arranged. But, as I say – I chose to believe you. That's why I've let you convince me – which is what they'd planned in the beginning. If Butler failed, there was Faith. If Faith failed, there was you – I simply want to know why in the end it was you!'

Koskill sighed. It would have been better if he had revealed rather more the previous night, when Audley wasn't concentrating on him. Now, in simple self-defence, he'd have to give him Harry.

Harry . . .

' I didn't know Alan Jenkins very well really, David. He was in electronic counter-measures, the bugging business. It was his brother I knew – his elder brother.'

He paused, searching for the right words. But how could one explain a man like Harry to a man like Audley? He would know all the theory of it, from David and Jonathan onwards, but his dummy2