For the Good of the State Read Online Free PDF Page B

him one for Willy.
    ‘If you’ve got the time I can show you how it works. Motte-and-bailey is pretty much a standard Norman design, with minor variations. It’s a bit muddy and overgrown on the other side, but—’
    ‘Thank you, Tom! But … in the circumstances … no , I’m afraid.’ The very slightest edge of Henry Jaggard’s dislike broke through the surface of his confidence, like a shark’s fin in a smooth sea, warning Tom that whatever he had in store wasn’t going to be one of those plum diplomatic sinecures in safe East European communist countries where the food might be bad, but the scope for terrorism was limited to the point of boredom. Besides which, of course, with Tom’s well-known maternal background he knew himself to be automatically persona non grata in most of them, anyway.
    And, also besides which, he had already pushed his luck as far as it was safe to do. So a bit of proper departmental enthusiasm was in order now. So … although this particular son-of-a-bitch will never promote you, Thomas Arkenshaw-Dzieliwski … show proper dutiful-enthusiastic-interest, damn your eyes !
    Although, Henry Jaggard was a shrewd operator, who didn’t generally let his prejudices interfere with his duties, to be fair. So maybe he’d been a bit naughty, thought Tom, half-repentantly. ‘Yes, sir?’
    Jaggard estimated him for a moment. ‘We have a little bit of a flap, Tom. And … I’m genuinely sorry for descending on you, believe me … but you’ve got the exact profile for it, you see. So your leave’s cancelled, as of this date.’
    That’s all right, sir.‘ Tom waved his own olive branch back. ’This earthwork isn’t going to go away.’
    ‘And Miss Groot?’ In victory Jaggard was suddenly generous. ‘Senator Groot’s daughter, would that be? Or grand-daughter?’
    ‘Niece, actually.’ No, not generous at all. Merely politic— politic with Miss Groot, not Sir Thomas, whose true measurements were precisely known, and who was plain Tom in consequence. But he shrugged dismissively, nevertheless. ‘But I don’t think she’ll go away either. Not that it matters.’ Oddly enough, it was beginning to matter; though this was hardly the moment to admit it to himself, never mind to Jaggard. ‘A flap, you said?’ And it was even less the moment to pretend that he wasn’t surprised to see Jaggard in a flap in the middle of nowhere: with Jaggard he not only had no need to play stupid—he positively couldn’t afford to do so. ‘What sort of a flap?’
    Jaggard looked past him, to make sure Senator Groot’s niece was not materializing inconveniently on the horizon. But the young policeman appeared to be doing his duty in detaining her where she was, for that one glance was enough. ‘Tom … when did you last have dealings with Research and Development?’
    Tom was just about ready for any question but that. It could have related to anything from Beirut to Managua, by way of Belfast; or from Black September to the Red Brigade (as recently reconstituted), by way of the IRA. But … it was one hell of a sight closer to home than that. ‘R & D?’ But Jaggard would know bloody well when he’d last consulted R & D: it was a suspiciously unnecessary question. ‘Not for ages … apart from their routine briefings—the ones I’m cleared to receive, anyway— ?’ He was entitled to end the statement on a question. ‘I mean face to face. Not the briefings.’
    ‘Hell!’ Tom concentrated his memory. ‘One of them chipped in his piece at that seminar … He’d been over in Dublin— Field Research , he called it.’ Memory etched the face and the facts. ‘Mitchell was his name—“Source PLM” in the briefings … He was into the IRA and the KGB, by way of ancient history. We got the Irish foreign connection from the Fenians in America backwards, all the way through Napoleon and Louis XIV to Philip of Spain. He’s a historian—a published historian, too—’ The etching included the