Free Here Be Monsters by Anthony Price

before last week?’ She sought wisdom as politely as a fourth former catching out her teacher in a spelling mistake. “They were both cleared—but we’ve been watching them for twenty-six years? Or have I missed something?’
    ‘Ah … ’ He opened the box. ‘Will you have a chocolate?’
    Thank you.’ As she selected one he watched her so intently that she wished she knew which was his favourite.
    ‘And I’ll have one too.’ His smile mortified her as he pounced on his preference gratefully, greedily. ‘No … no … No, there, I must admit, I am relying on the Americans, Elizabeth.’
    ‘The Americans didn’t abort their original investigation?’
    ‘Uh-uh.’ He shook his head, unwilling to swallow his chocolate prematurely. ‘It was … it was a joint decision, back in ‘58. The whole affair had become very messy politically. Indeed, counter-productive.’ He disposed of the chocolate at last. “There have been faint echoes of Debrecen down the years since then, but never loud enough to justify a reactivation. Until last year, when a rather unpleasant episode occurred in America, involving one of the names on the American list.’ The pudgy hand, which had been toying with a brightly-coloured sweet-paper, clenched it. ‘A very nasty affair.’
    Elizabeth pretended innocent interest. When Latimer had been in America last year there had been a minor panic one evening while she had been duty officer. But she had never been privy to the details, which had been swiftly taken out of her half-trained hands by Paul Mitchell.
    ‘Involving Major Parker?’ She reinforced her pretence with the question.
    ‘No.’ Latimer relaxed. ‘No. But his name was at the top of the list when they decided on reactivation.’
    ‘Although he’d been cleared?’
    ‘Cleared in 1958.’ He reached for another chocolate. ‘What they did, Elizabeth, was to programme his whole career into that computer of theirs in Fort Dobson. Every decision he’d had a hand in, every advisory committee he’d served on—what it achieved, or didn’t achieve. And they came up with some altogether damning conclusions.’
    ‘He’s a traitor, you mean?’
    ‘No. That is exactly what he isn’t—or wasn ’ t rather, seeing that he retired five years ago. All the evidence points to him having been a one-hundred-per-cent red-blooded American. And also a one-hundred-per-cent loser, you see.’ Latimer smiled evilly at her. ‘The New Model Traitor, Elizabeth, is the one you can’t call a traitor to his face without risking an action for slander.’
    Elizabeth shook her head. ‘Now you’ve lost me.’
    ‘It’s quite simple. He backed losing causes—the Bay of Pigs, Batista, Somaza—all the equivocal fire-fighting decisions which ended up with the whole house going up in flames. Even with Allende—he helped to overthrow Allende in a way which made him a martyr, not an exile.’ Latimer nodded. ‘So far as they can establish, no secret he had was ever betrayed to anyone, least of all the Russians. He just helped to make all the wrong decisions. Which, when you think about it, is a much more efficient treason than the conventional variety.’
    But there was a flaw in this argument, thought Elizabeth. ‘So there’s no evidence that he was a traitor?’
    ‘None at all.’ Latimer nodded. ‘No evidence.’
    ‘So … he could just have been stupid, Mr Latimer -surely?’
    He nodded again. ‘Or unlucky—quite so! And we could make traitors of half our governments since the war—and before it—on the same basis. I agree, Miss Loftus—Elizabeth. But they thought of that too, you see.’ Another beastly smile. ‘So they leaned on him—they asked him questions, and they let him know he was being followed. And they bugged his phone, and burgled his house—they did all the things which are considered to be the unacceptable face of security, to suggest to him that they knew more than they actually did.’ He looked at her