The Labyrinth Makers Read Online Free PDF

married her.
    'I know I didn't believe that he was dead, certainly–and I didn't say that either. Turn left here.'
    They branched off the secondary road on to an even narrower one which steadily climbed the shoulder of the Downs. Already the plain was flattening out below them.
    'Why didn't you think he was dead?'
    'Don't you think you had better explain what you want? And you can show me your credentials first, just in case. I do remember that there were some rather odd characters asking questions in the old days. I take it you are some form of military intelligence.'
    Audley smiled to himself as he passed over his identification. Some form indeed!
    Jones passed back the wallet. 'You don't look the type. But I assume that is to be expected. Not that you aren't big enough.'
    'Why didn't you think he was dead?' Audley repeated.
    Jones was silent for a moment.
    'It's not going to be easy remembering anything fresh,' he said slowly. 'But you'd better get one or two things clear from the start.
    'I had nothing to hide then, nothing personal, and I've got nothing to hide now. I flew with Steerforth that one time only–as a passenger. You've read the record, I'm sure. I'd been stuck in Berlin with food-poisoning. It just happened to be his plane I flew back in. He was always wangling the Berlin flights.
    'And I hardly knew him. I only went to see his widow because the other chaps were crocked up. I fell for her then, and I married her as soon as it was legal, when Faith was just a tot.'
    Jones paused again.
    'They are two of the four people I love best. I'll tell you now that I'm not going to have them pushed around by anyone. And I'm not going to be pushed either. Not just to set your records straight. I don't care what he did.'
    Audley pulled the car on to the shoulder of the road, on to a patch of smooth, wind-driven turf. He turned the engine off and sat back, wondering how Roskill or Butler would handle this man.
    'You're ahead of me, Mr Jones. A long way ahead of me.'
    'That's where it's always best to be.'
    The wind whipped the downland grass beside the car. It was peaceful, but not in the least still, very much like his own Sussex Downs. He watched the birds wheeling and diving over the fields. Down below a toylike tractor was busy.
    If Jones had not believed in Steerforth's death he must have had long years of uncertainty, waiting for the knock on the door. But would that have sharpened his wits so much over the years? Sharpened them so much that he was able to identify Audley straight off?
    Jumping to conclusions was what he himself was supposed to be so good at. It was disconcerting to be on the receiving end.
    'Why did you expect me, or somebody like me?'
    'I didn't. But you didn't surprise me. I'll never forget all those questions at the time. They left a mark on me when I'd been softened up. When I baled out of that Dak I was sure I was going to get killed–I can remember quite clearly thinking how unfair it was to be killed after the war was over. I've always associated Steerforth with trouble ever since, and when he turned up again I was just waiting for it.'
    'You said you hardly knew him. But I'd have to know someone pretty well to call him a tricky bastard.'
    Jones opened the car door. 'Let's get some air,' he said. 'It's easier to be frank in the open.'
    Audley followed him over the springy turf on the hillside until he stopped by a wire fence. Audley experienced the familiar downland sensation which both excited and frightened him.
    Down below him the neat patchwork of fields, the squat churches and neat houses with smoking chimneys–that was the rich, fat, peaceful land of England. Up here on the Downs was a different ambience, more ancient and hostile. The downlands could be creepy on a hot, still day. And in the evenings there always seemed to be things moving outside the circle of a man's vision.
    All right then, he thought, as Jones carefully took a pipe from his pocket, tapped it on a fence post, and