Horse Under Water

50 One named OSTRA has no number

If you ever get clear away from a difficult situation by abandoning a large part of your personal belongings, you may feel an urgent need of certain articles you have left behind, like a Locarte fluorimeter that has an eight-month delivery time. Don’t send for them; because that’s how we traced da Cunha.

I asked Alice for a manilla cover and wrote ‘Ostra’ on the front. Into that I put certified copies of all Ivor Butcher’s mail. I added six foolscap sheets of his statement, laced the file and locked it back into the top drawer of my desk. So far it had no file number. It was my special secret contribution to the nation’s security. I looked at the map. The Ford station-wagon with da Cunha’s laboratory equipment was moving north and looked as though it would cross the Spanish border near Badajoz.

Dawlish called me up for a drink that evening. He had been so busy building the administrative side of the Strutton Committee that I had seen little of him. I knew that O’Brien was still making things difficult for us. O’Brien, unmarried, propped up the corner of the downstairs bar at the Travellers’ Club, twenty-four hours a day. What he was giving up in food he was gaining in influence. O’Brien was trying to get Foreign Office people on all the subcommittees with executive power. Dawlish said that, at the meeting I had missed, he had taken the liberty of putting me up as convening chairman of the training structure sub-committee. I told him that I might be away for a few days. Dawlish said he thought that might be the case. He blew his nose loudly and smiled drily from behind his big handkerchief. ‘I’ll convene the meeting and you delegate your vote to me. It will be all right.’

‘Thank you very much, sir,’ I said, and I drank to his success. Dawlish came from behind his desk and stood near the gas fire, which was popping and spluttering as they always do about 5 p.m.

‘Did you check with the Sc.Ad.C.[35] about the molecular ice-melting theory?’ I asked him.

Dawlish gave a histrionic sigh. ‘Don’t you ever give up?’ he said. ‘It is impossible to rearrange molecules as a way of changing ice to water.’ We stared at each other for a minute or so. ‘Very well, my boy, I’ll ask him.’ He closed his eyes, gulped down his claret and leaned against the wall like a worn-out roll of lino.

He said, ‘Keightley was on the phone today.’ (Keightley was the liaison officer at Scotland Yard.) ‘You can’t keep this man Butcher available for questioning unless you are preferring charges.’

‘I’ll clear that in a few days,’ I said, ‘he’ll make no complaint; he wants to be in custody.’

Dawlish said, ‘I’m feeling a certain amount of pressure in respect of the Alforreca business.’

‘Look,’ I said, ‘I didn’t ask you to hold the door open. But don’t start closing it now that I’m half-way through.’

Dawlish produced another handkerchief with the aplomb of a tea-party conjurer. ‘Careful not to slam it on my fingers,’ he told me, ‘there’s a good boy. Oh, I know that you have a thousand reasons for not slipping up, but remember that the man who fell off the Empire State Building said to a resident on the first floor as he fell past him, “So far so good”.’ Dawlish smiled blankly.

‘Thank you for those words of encouragement,’ I said. Dawlish walked across to the drink cupboard. He spoke over his shoulder. ‘There are certain things which if I know about I must act upon. As it is I’m happy enough to leave them. But if you go wrong I’ll tear you to shreds and anyone you try to protect will be torn up with you.’

‘What about another drink?’ I said.

‘It’s a good thing you like Tio Pepe,’ replied Dawlish self-consciously.

Dawlish thought I was heading for where the sherry comes from.