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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

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BOOK: Albatross
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‘Mummy wanted Davina to come too,' Charlie said casually. ‘She couldn't find her. She wasn't in her office and there's no reply at the flat.' Kidson sat very still. ‘I didn't press it because of what you said last night. Your bloody sister … what's she done, darling?'

He managed a tired laugh. ‘Nothing really, just caused a flap that interrupted our evening. I didn't mean to say that, I'm sorry. She's not my favourite person at the moment, as you know.'

Charlie turned to look at him. ‘You said she was out of the running for the job,' she reminded him. ‘That hasn't changed, has it?'

‘No, no,' he said hastily. ‘She's made a proper mess of her chances. The trouble is, I'm afraid she may make a mess of mine too.'

Charlie disengaged herself and said, ‘How? Can't you stop her?'

Kidson said slowly, ‘I could, if I knew where to find her. Apparently she's disappeared. The truth is, she's poking around still, trying to find something to discredit me. It would suit her purpose to leave suspicion in the air about the traitor. With herself in the role of avenging angel, of course.' He scowled at his clasped hands.

Charlie saw the look of anxiety and felt very angry. She seldom lost her temper or gave herself lines by looking cross. It was very important not to frown, if one didn't want that ugly line between the brows. Crows' feet from laughter were attractive in middle age. You got bags under the eyes from crying. She had made it a rule all her life to laugh and smile as much as possible. But there was her husband, whom she loved, looking miserable and harassed, and her sister Davina was to blame. Antagonism flared up in her; it had lain dormant over the past few years because she was so happy she could afford to forget how badly she had treated her sister. She insisted to herself and everyone else that she felt no guilt for stealing Davina's fiancé and marrying him. It was all so long ago and she'd been married twice since then … but the guilt remained and with it the accompanying element of hatred for the person wronged. ‘I'm fed up with Davina trying to hurt you, John,' she said suddenly. ‘If I find out where she is, would it help?'

He looked at her and the bright eyes, flashing with anger, surprised him. ‘Why, yes, darling. Yes, of course it would … but how can you?' How indeed, when someone as experienced as Davina Graham had gone to ground, could an innocent like Charlie flush her out?

‘You leave it to me,' his wife said firmly. ‘I'll find her.'

‘Now,' Davina said, ‘let's recap what we've done so far. We've got a probable date of entry into the Service. Around 1958 to 1960. We base that on two factors. One, the removal of data from the files two years after those dates, and two, the remark made by the agent who recruited you, indicating that there was a penetration in the office itself, right?'

Harrington said, ‘So far, yes. So if those assumptions are correct, Humphrey and the Chief are in the clear. Leaving your brother-in-law. How's the family going to like that?'

‘Keep to the point,' Davina snapped at him. ‘You can be bitchy afterwards if it helps you. Certainly those two facts put both of them out as suspects. But mightn't the person who altered those files have that precise intention in mind? That he'd avoid suspicion by backdating to a treason that never took place? We can't ignore that.'

‘My contact didn't have that motive,' Harrington countered. ‘All right, he could have been encouraging me; come on, old boy, you're not the only one feathering your nest sort of thing. But I don't think so.'

‘What we're working against,' Davina said slowly, ‘is the fact that we've got a series of clues in those files which may not be clues at all. The time that Albatross entered the Service is the key to his identity. And it's pointing a damn sight too obviously at one person.'

‘You're taking one thing for granted, aren't you?' Harrington said. ‘People have been subverted
after
they joined, not necessarily before. You're basing everything on the Cambridge connection, recruiting among the undergraduates destined for places in the Establishment. That happened, but not to me, for instance. I was dead straight for years. Then something came along and I switched sides. Albatross could have done the same.'

Davina lit a cigarette; her throat was dry from smoking the Sobranies. ‘All along the line we have situations where any one of the three suspects could be Albatross. From the Rumanian fiasco to Sasanov and your recall. And his death.' She hated saying it.

Harrington's voice was smug. ‘I told you, that's where the pointer really lies. You've got to be a brave girl, Davy, and look into that if you want to find him.'

She didn't look at him; she couldn't have borne the satisfaction in his face. ‘You're right,' she said at last. ‘I don't know where to start, that's the trouble.'

Harrington watched her. By Christ, he thought, she's never got over that. The soldier boy hasn't made up for Ivan. And never will. Poor Davy. The bitch; serve her right.

‘I'd start,' he suggested gently, ‘with the people who knew you were in Australia. And go on from there.'

To her relief the phone rang. A terse voice at the other end said, ‘Davina – Colin here.'

She could imagine the awkward stubbornness that went with that tone and in spite of everything she smiled. ‘Hello, darling. I won't talk over the phone. Are you coming over?'

There was no doubt about the reply. ‘Right away. Everything all right?'

‘Fine,' she said.

There was a second's pause and then, ‘Sorry about last night.' He was hopeless about apologizing, especially when he was in the wrong.

‘And so you should be,' she said gently. ‘Don't be an idiot. Hurry up; ask for Suite A and they've got my name.' She turned back to Harrington. Be a brave girl and look into the most painful time of her life. She was going to take him up on that jibe, but she thanked God that Colin Lomax would be with her.

‘Mr Walden,' Frieda Armstrong's voice came through with a slightly querulous note that put him on his guard, ‘there's a Mrs Kidson asking to speak to you. She says she's Miss Graham's sister.'

Tony Walden hesitated. He remembered the beautiful redhead only too well.

‘Tell her Miss Graham will call her later,' he said.

‘I did,' Frieda said, ‘but she still wants to speak to you. She said it was urgent. Apparently she can't contact Miss Graham.'

‘All right, put her on,' Walden said.

She did have an attractive voice. It sounded as if she had just heard a good joke and was going to share it. ‘I am sorry to be a nuisance,' Charlie said. ‘Do you remember me? I came into the office a little while ago …'

His reply was instinctive. ‘How could I possibly forget? What can I do for you, Mrs Kidson?'

‘I'm trying to get hold of Davina. Our mother's not terribly well and I've been ringing and ringing the flat but no answer. Is she away on a job?'

‘Yes,' said Walden cheerfully. ‘As a matter of fact she is. But I'm expecting her to call any minute. I'll tell her to get in touch with you at once. I hope it's nothing serious?'

‘Oh, no, it's only that she gets a bit tired, her heart's a little tricky you know … she just wants to see Davina and she couldn't find her and started to worry and get pains – tell Davy to ring me at home as soon as she can, would you? That
is
kind.' And because it was second nature to Charlie to flirt with any man, even at a distance, she added, ‘And I hope I'll see you next time I come to the office.'

‘And I hope you'll let me give you lunch,' was his reply.

He put the phone down and thought for a moment. Something about that call didn't sound right. From apparent urgency it petered out into a rather feeble excuse about Davina's mother having tried in vain to find her.… Walden asked for an outside line and dialled the Ritz. It was Colin Lomax who answered. Walden set out to be diplomatic. Always disarm an enemy if possible.

‘How's everything?'

Lomax answered briskly, ‘It's okay.'

‘I didn't stay with Davina,' Walden explained, as if he owed Lomax the explanation. ‘She said she'd be quite all right alone. I'm glad you're with her; I don't like your friend very much.'

Lomax said, ‘I don't either.' And then because he knew Davina was listening, he added, ‘Thanks for what you did last night.'

‘No problem.' Walden sounded friendly. ‘I'd like a word with her.'

Lomax said, ‘Hold on; I'll get her.'

Davina listened without interrupting him. Lomax hovered in the background wondering what Walden was saying that held her attention so closely. At the end she said, ‘Thanks, Tony. That was a lot of nonsense – she's trying to find me. I'll ring her right away.' She turned to Lomax. ‘Charlie,' she said. ‘She's been on to Tony with some feeble story about Mother not being well and worried because she couldn't get an answer from the flat. Tony said he didn't believe a word of it.'

‘He's becoming quite the expert, isn't he? And just how well does he know Charlie to tell whether she was making it up or not?'

Davina looked at him; she took a deep breath. ‘Colin. Colin, for God's sake, what's got into you?'

‘I don't trust him,' Lomax said flatly. ‘I don't trust him with you, and I don't trust him generally. And not just because I'm jealous; I'd see him off in two seconds flat if he started any bloody funny stuff.' He scowled and dug both hands into his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet. Davina knew him so well that she understood the body language; the sheathed hands contradicting the fighting stance. He was jealous, that was all. The only mistrust he had of Tony Walden was concerned with his fear of losing her. It didn't make her love him; for the first time in their relationship she suffered a loss of respect for the man she respected above all.

‘There's no point in arguing,' she said after a pause. ‘I'm going to ring Charlie and see what she wants.'

Her sister was bright and amiable on the telephone. ‘No, Davy, there's nothing wrong with Mummy – I made it all a bit dramatic because I thought your darling boss might be annoyed with me for ringing up. He couldn't have been sweeter. John and I are going to Marchwood this weekend, and Mummy said it was ages since she'd seen you and Colin. Why don't you both come down?'

Davina smiled at the invitation. Charlie knew how to charm, how to glide over the obvious. Davina's parents never invited her and Colin at the same time as their favourite daughter and their only grandchild. The idea of a cosy family weekend was Charlie's, and she could wind both parents round her finger if she chose. ‘I don't think Colin can come down,' Davina said slowly. She held up one hand to stop him interrupting. ‘He's got some regimental reunion this weekend. But I could come down for a night. I'd better ring them, hadn't I?' To make sure I'm welcome. I wasn't always wanted, though they like me better now. It was you, Charlie, they longed to see, however you neglected them.…' She was surprised and angered with herself for feeling bitter after all the years. For forgetting how they had nursed her after Australia, how they had taken Colin in and cared for him when they came back from Mexico. Did the wounds of childhood never really heal? She knew why she was walking into whatever trap Charlie was setting for her. She knew why Charlie was doing it. Be a brave girl, the jeering voice of Harrington echoed in her mind, go back and find out about Australia. She would have to go to Marchwood for a start.

‘I'll ring Mummy,' Charlie said helpfully. ‘When will you come?'

‘Maybe this evening,' Davina said. ‘When I get back to London.' She rang off, before her sister could ask her where she was.

She left Harrington alone with Colin Lomax; she shut herself into the luxurious bedroom, where Walden brought his girlfriends, and started the tape. Her own voice murmured dates and reflections, culled from the files she'd photographed. There was a reference to herself and Sasanov having been settled in a safe place. No mention was made of Australia, and the section was not one of those that had been interfered with; the record of where the Soviet defector and his wife were living was not kept in the confidential files. Possibly only the impenetrable coding devised by the computer and registered in its twin at the Foreign Office held the information. And that information was available only to the Chief and the Foreign Minister and through them to the Prime Minister should it be requested. James White again. However she circled round the question mark of Albatross, she came back to the same person. Lomax suspected John Kidson; Harrington veered between all three at times. She herself tried to be impartial, but the clues had one factor in common. The means of wrecking SIS Intelligence operations like the one in Rumania, of leading the KGB assassin to Ivan Sasanov, of turning the Plumed Serpent in Mexico into a setback instead of a disaster for the Soviet Union, were only available to one man at all times – Sir James White.

‘You're walking into it with Kidson,' Lomax protested. ‘He wants to get hold of you, and he's put Charlie up to it!'

She couldn't resist the retort. ‘You mean you agree with Tony? I thought you dismissed the whole idea!'

‘I've changed my mind,' he said obstinately. ‘I don't give a damn whether he's right or wrong, though you seem to. All I'm thinking about is your safety. Why did you say I couldn't go with you? Couldn't you even ask me?'

He stood with his back to the bedroom window, blocking the view of the sunny park – a broad-shouldered, aggressive figure, who seemed to Davina more of an opponent than a colleague.

‘And who is going to look after Harrington?' she said.

‘Walden,' he snapped at her. ‘If he wants to play bloody secret agents he can come back here and mind that bastard while we go down to Marchwood!'

BOOK: Albatross
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