The Enemy. Desmond Bagley
His lordship! I didn’t know if Ogilvie was being facetious or not.
He said, ‘Will you take things a bit easier in future?’
That wasn’t asking too much, so I said, ‘Of course.’
‘Good. How’s your father these days?’
‘I think he’s a bit lonely now that Mother’s dead, but he bears up well. He sends you his regards.’
He nodded and checked his watch. ‘Now you’ll lunch with me and tell me everything you know about Ashton.’
We lunched in a private room above a restaurant at which Ogilvie seemed to be well known. He made me begin right from the beginning, from the time I met Penny, and I ended my tale with the abortive checking out of Ashton and my confrontation with Nellie. It took a long time to tell.
When I had finished we were over the coffee cups. Ogilvie lit a cigar and said, ‘All right; you’re supposed to be a trained man. Can you put your finger on anything unusual?’
I thought a bit before answering. ‘Ashton has a man called Benson. I think there’s something peculiar there.’
‘Sexually, you mean?’
‘Not necessarily. Ashton certainly doesn’t strike me as being double-gaited. I mean it’s not the normal master-and-servant relationship. When they came back from the hospital last night they were closeted in Ashton’s study for an hour and a half, and between them they sank half a bottle of whisky.’
‘Um,’ said Ogilvie obscurely. ‘Anything else?’
‘The way he was pressuring me into marrying Penny was bloody strange. I thought at one time he’d bring out the traditional shotgun.’ I grinned. ‘A Purdy, of course – for formal weddings.’
‘You know what I think,’ said Ogilvie. ‘I think Ashton is scared to death; not on his own behalf but on account of his girls. He seems to think that if he can get your Penny away from him she’ll be all right. What do you think?’
‘It fits all right,’ I said. ‘And I don’t like one damned bit of it.’
‘Poor Ashton. He didn’t have the time to polish up a scheme which showed no cracks, and he sprang it on you too baldly. I’ll bet he pulled that Australian job out of thin air.’
‘Who is Ashton?’ I asked.
‘Sorry; I can’t tell you that.’ Ogilvie blew a plume of smoke. ‘I talked very high-handedly to that chap this morning. I told him you’d take on the job as soon as you knew what was involved, but he knew damned well that I can’t tell you a thing. That’s what he was objecting to in an oblique way.’
‘This is bloody silly,’ I said.
‘Not really. You’ll only be doing what you’d be doing anyway, knowing what you know now.’
‘Which is?’
‘Bodyguarding the girl. Of course, I’ll ask you to bodyguard Ashton, too. It’s a package deal, you see; one automatically includes the other.’
‘And without knowing the reason why?’
‘You know the reason why. You’ll be guarding Penelope Ashton because you don’t want her to get a faceful of sulphuric acid, and that should be reason enough for any tender lover. As for Ashton – well, our friend this morning was right. A commander can’t tell his private soldiers his plans when he sends them into battle. He just tells them where to go and they pick up their feet.’
‘The analogy is false, and you know it,’ I said. ‘How can I guard a man if I don’t know who or what I’m guarding him against? That’s like sending a soldier into battle not only without telling him where the enemy is, but who the enemy is.’
‘Well, then,’ said Ogilvie tranquilly. ‘It looks as though you’ll have to do it for the sake of my bright blue eyes.’
He had me there and I think he knew it. I had an idea that Mr Nameless, whoever he was, could be quite formidable and Ogilvie had defused what might have been a nasty situation that morning. I owed him something for it. Besides, the cunning old devil’s eyes were green.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘But it isn’t a one-man job.’
‘I’m aware of that. Spend this afternoon thinking out your requirements – I want them on my desk early tomorrow morning. Oh, by the way – you don’t disclose yourself.’
I opened my mouth and then closed it again slowly before I swore at him. Then I said, ‘You must be joking. I have to guard a man without telling him I’m guarding him?’
‘I’m sure you’ll do it very well,’ he said suavely, and rang for the waiter.
‘Then you’ll be astonished at what I’ll need,’ I said acidly.
He nodded, then asked curiously, ‘Hasn’t it disturbed you that you’ll be marrying into a rather mysterious family?’
‘It’s Penny I’m marrying, not Ashton.’ I grinned at him. ‘Aren’t you disturbed for the same reason?’
‘Don’t think I’m not,’ he said seriously, and left me to make of that what I could.
When I got back to the office Larry Godwin looked me up and down critically. ‘I was just about to send out a search party. The griffin is that you’ve been given a real bollocking. I was just about to go down to the cellar to see if they really do use thumbscrews.’
‘Nothing to it,’ I said airily. ‘I was given the RSPCA medal for being kind to Joe Harrison – that’s all.’
‘Very funny,’ he said acidly, and flapped open a day-old copy of Pravda. ‘The only time you’ll get a medal is when you come with me when I get my knighthood.’ He watched me putting a few things in a bag. ‘Going somewhere?’
‘I won’t be around for a couple of days or so.’
‘Lucky devil. I never get out of this bloody office.’
‘You will one day,’ I said consolingly. ‘You have to go to Buck House to get a knighthood.’ I leaned against the desk. ‘You really should be in Slav Section. Why did you opt for General Duties?’
‘I thought it would be more exciting,’ he said, and added sourly, ‘I was wrong.’
‘With you around, the phrase “as happy as Larry” takes on an entirely new meaning.’ I thought he was going to throw something at me so I ducked out fast.
I drove to Marlow and found the police station. My name presented to the desk sergeant got me Honnister in jig time. He shared an office with another inspector and when I indicated a desire for privacy Honnister shrugged and said, ‘Oh, well; we can use an interview room. It’s not as comfortable as here, though.’
‘That’s all right.’
The other copper closed a file and stood up. ‘I’m going, anyway. I don’t want to pry into your girlish secrets, Charlie.’ He gave me a keen glance as he went out. He’d know me again if he saw me.
Honnister sat at his desk and scowled. ‘Secretive crowd, your lot.’
I grinned. ‘I don’t see you wearing a copper’s uniform.’
‘I had one of your blokes on the blower this morning – chap by the name of Harrison – threatening me with the Tower of London and