The Memory Trap Read Online Free PDF Page A

looking to have a chat with an old comrade.’
    Audley’s heart sank again as he imagined what the Italians would have on file under Audley, David Longsdon . It would have been all right if old General Montuori was still alive, albeit in well-earned retirement. But with no one to explain the truth between the lines recording his one-time Italian activities Montuori’s successor would inevitably expect trouble once that name re-appeared on his blotter—just as Peter Richardson might also have done.
    Damn ! ‘Are you about to tell me that Richardson is now missing, Peter?’
    ‘Yes—yes-and-no, David—‘
    ‘And just what the hell is that meant to mean?’ As he turned on Mitchell the car plunged into a tunnel, startling him as it bathed everything in garish orange light.
    ‘It’s not quite as bad as it seems, maybe.’ The orange light flickered eerily on Mitchell’s face. ‘The Italians got a bit up-tight at first.’
    Surprise, surprise ! ‘They did?’
    ‘Yes … They insisted on helping us—on finding Richardson themselves, and delivering him to us. I rather got the impression that he isn’t exactly numero uno in their popularity stakes.’
    ‘What—?’ They were in the midst of a deafening maelstrom of tunnel noise-and-traffic on a multi-lane autostrada which hadn’t existed in his old Neapolitan days—the days of General Montuori and Captain Richardson. ‘ Richardson — ? ’
    ‘Uh-huh.’ Mitchell annexed Audley’s own useful multipurpose non-committal grunt for himself. ‘The elusive major himself—‘ He nodded ‘—only, as they apparently haven’t found him themselves they’re being nicer to us now—God!’
    Audley’s knees hit the dashboard painfully as the little car decelerated fiercely. ‘What—?’ He could hardly think for the noise.
    ‘Some mad bastard—that mad bastard—‘ Mitchell stabbed a finger ahead ‘—has just cut in ahead of me.’ He looked up at his mirror. ‘They’re all mad—stark, staring mad, David—‘ He frowned ‘—or … I hope they are, anyway—‘
    Audley massaged his bruises. He couldn’t keep shouting ‘What?’, he had to find a more sensible question. ‘If no one knows where Richardson is … what makes you think he’s safe?’
    The car burst into sunlight. ‘Safe—?’ For a moment he didn’t seem to have heard the rest of the question. ‘That’s why I think he’s safe: because no one knows where he is.’ He peered into the mirror again. ‘I just hope the same applies to us, now that I’ve lost our escort somehow—‘
    Audley looked around. What was certain was that he didn’t know where he was. But this was one bit of Italy where, on a clear day like this, that ought to be easily rectified once a sufficient gap in the buildings on his left opened up.
    ‘Ah! There he is—phew!’ Mitchell grinned relief at him. ‘Sorry, David. Really, I quite enjoy driving in Italy. It’s the nearest thing to stock-car racing I know. But keeping in with our escort rather spoils it, that’s all … But, as I was saying—what was I saying?’
    Audley gave up trying to spot Vesuvius. ‘Richardson is safe. But you don’t know where he is.’
    ‘That’s right.’ Mitchell sounded almost cheerful. ‘So he knows where he is.’
    Audley could see another nightmare tunnel ahead. ‘What d’you mean?’
    ‘I mean that he got in touch with us. The major-domo did his stuff, evidently. So now the Major’s calling the shots, David. And we’re going to meet him.’
    After Berlin that was an unfortunate choice of words. But the tunnel closed in on them before Audley could react. And this time, with an enormous sixteen-wheeler thundering beside them, no further words were possible, and even thought wasn’t easy.
    Light returned at last, yet Vesuvius was still hidden behind buildings. Except, by now they must be beyond it, with Amain” still an hour or more ahead. But now he had thought of what he had been going to say. ‘You know about