The Labyrinth Makers

'For the Bull?'

'That's not quite fair on you–it's only a hotel to you. You can't know about it.'

'You've been there?'

'Been there?' She sighed. 'No, I've never been there, not in the flesh. But it's part of my family history–I've heard them all talk of it. Grandmother used to tell me how they all met there. It was the squadron pub–"See you at the Bull" was their good luck saying! It was his special place–Johnnie Steerforth's pub. He met Mother there before I was born; I think he met her there the very first time.

And Daddy met her there afterwards, my step-father, I mean. It was the only place . . .'

She left the sentence unfinished and Audley writhed inwardly. He couldn't have known, and she was honest and had conceded it. But he could hardly have been more hamhanded in his egotistical misconstruction. Among all those ghosts of the living and the dead she didn't wish to be alone. Again it had been the need rather than the man, he told himself sadly.

'I'm sorry. I've been rather thick, haven't I?' he confessed heavily.

'We can go somewhere else. Or you can. In fact you could easily go home–you've done your part better than I deserve.'

'Do you want me to go home?'

'It's not for me to say. You've earned the right to decide that for dummy4

yourself, I think.'

She laughed. 'I'm not just a camp-follower any more then?'

'Faith, you know damn well you were never just a camp-follower.'

Audley nerved himself to abase his pride. 'If you want me to say whether I want you to go to the Bull to share a double bed with me in a double room, the answer is "yes", as you know very well. For me it would be a pleasure–and a privilege.

'And as to that dark side of mine — the answer is "yes" to that too.

I think there's a KGB man inside me trying to get out. And maybe that's another reason why you should stick around: we can both try to keep him in check now we've spotted him. At least until I can get back to my old job where he doesn't have any chances!'

She put her hand softly on his arm.

'Poor David! Things are complicated enough for you without a KGB girl of your own to watch your KGB man! I haven't even been straight with you, either. I do want to go to the Bull with you very much. I think I'd like to get the Bull out of my system and you into it. And I want to find Schliemann's treasure!'

'Steerforth's treasure now. It'll always be his treasure as well now, whether we find it or not.'

'But David — do you really think you can find it?'

He shrugged. 'The Russians think we can, Faith. And we're the first people to look for it, after all. So given time maybe we can.

Tierney's given us a good start, anyway –better than I expected.'

'He has? Honestly, I couldn't quite see what you were driving at. I mean, it doesn't matter where it was put at first. It's where it ended dummy4

up, and that could be — just anywhere.'

'Oh, no, it couldn't. Your daddy was an extremely resourceful character, but he wasn't a miracle worker.'

'I still don't see—'

'Time, love! Time and trust and opportunity. I haven't been trying to find the treasure so far–I've been trying to find what the limiting factors were.

'He didn't trust Tierney, and if he didn't trust Tierney he didn't trust anyone. So he shifted the treasure from the safe deposit hut by himself. And he did it that same night–he told Tierney it was put away safely next day. But he couldn't drive, so there's a physical limit to where he could manhandle it.

'There was the trolley.'

'Even with the trolley it can't be very far away from the hut. There has to be a place of some sort–he'd never leave it just lying about.'

'He'd get the place ready in advance then.'

Audley shook his head.

'I'm betting he didn't know in advance he was going to hijack the cargo. So it had to be a ready-made hiding place, and at the same time somewhere it could stay safely for a long time–twenty-four years, in fact.'

Faith frowned. 'I think you're assuming a lot, David. He could have had a place ready for what's-his-name, the Belgian, to collect the stuff–a hole in the ground would do perfectly.'

'Fortunately holes in the ground are the one thing we don't have to dummy4

worry about. If I thought it was under the ground I wouldn't bother to look — we'd need a regiment of Royal Engineers, mine detectors and God knows what else before we could think of tackling holes in the ground!'

'Well, it's the traditional place for buried treasure, and I still think it's the most obvious place,' said Faith, somewhat nettled. 'I don't see why you're so sure of yourself.'

Audley checked himself from another scornful reply, aware suddenly that he was close to selling the lion's skin before he had killed it.

'It's traditional, Faith,' he conceded seriously. 'But England isn't a desert island. People have an inconvenient habit of noticing large, convenient holes dug in the ground, as quite a few murderers have discovered to their cost. They notice them after they've been filled in, too. In fact there's only one place where a hole isn't suspicious, and that's in a churchyard!'

She turned towards him eagerly, but he cut her off with a shake of the head.

'Unfortunately Newton Chester churchyard is all of three miles from the airfield, on the other side of the village. Too far away to trundle a trolley two or three times without being seen or heard.

And frankly I can't see your father settling down with pick and shovel either, not to that extent: it would have to be a big, deep hole, a grave-sized one. And that takes quite a lot of digging, even if he had time–which I still don't think he had.'

Faith nodded thoughtfully. 'You've made your point, David. But if dummy4

it's not under ground, it's above ground. And that seems even more unlikely–unless it's in that castle Tierney mentioned.'

'That's a possibility, certainly. But I don't think there's much point in discussing possibilities until we see the place. As I said, I've been after the limiting factors. In any case, we've got one more job before Newton Chester. We've still got to see Maclean.'

'Maclean? He was–the navigator, wasn't he?'

'He was the navigator, yes.'

'But we're not going to do another tough act for him, I hope–I don't think I've got the stamina!'

Audley smiled. 'I don't think it would be very wise to attempt that act on a respectable citizen like Mr Maclean.'

Faith sighed with relief. 'Thank Christ there was one respectable member of the crew! I was beginning to get a jaundiced view of the air force. But then I suppose if anyone has to be steady and reliable it would be the navigator. Sort of father figure, like Captain Cook!'

Like most women she was prone to subjective judgments, reflected Audley: her step-father had been a navigator. But it was reassuring to find such a mundane flaw in her character; in some other respects she was formidable enough to be Jones's true daughter.

'I don't think your father's crew was very unusual–or unusually bad, come to that, Faith. Morrison was the weakling and Tierney was a potential crook, but they did their jobs perfectly well. They helped to win the war so people like me could come and hound them in peace years afterwards. Their generation did something big dummy4

— which is more than mine has done.'

'And my father?'

'Same thing, love–only more so! Don't go drooping through life thinking he was just a villain. In some ways he was quite a man.

He won his DFC fair and square.'

'Don't I know it! It was Grandmother's favourite bed-time story. So he was a war-hero. It's just that now I don't think he would have been a peace-hero.'

'Maybe not. But there were plenty like him—'

"A daring pilot in extremity ...

But for a calm unfit."

You shouldn't be sad, then. You've been damned lucky!'

'Lucky?' Faith sounded bitter.

'Every one of you! You got a good step-father out of the deal. And your mother has a good husband.'