Free Here Be Monsters by Anthony Price Page B

her to talk to anyone. But why? ‘So I’m an expert on the American Rangers, Mr Latimer?’ Big deal !
    ‘So perhaps you will have something to tell Squadron Leader Thomas that he doesn’t know about?’ He inclined his head almost apologetically. ‘When you talk to him?’
    ‘Talk to him?’ But at least that was a clue as to what he expected of her.
    ‘Why not?’ He spread his hands again.
    Why not ? thought Elizabeth.
    ‘What I am asking you to do is … not easy, Elizabeth -I know that.’ He squirmed in Colonel Butler’s big chair. ‘But that is the particular nature of this section’s work. And you were chosen for it because you had particular aptitudes—not simply policeman’s aptitudes, for pursuing facts without emotions, but something more than that, and much more rare … Which I do not propose to define, because there are some things which cannot be put together again after they have been taken to pieces.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘And because we do not have the time now for such esoteric discussion.’
    Was he complimenting her with his trust ? wondered Elizabeth. Or was he bull-shitting her — as Paul would say ?
    ‘You’ve got to get to know this man Thomas.’ Latimer leaned towards her. ‘You’ve got to know about him first—and Audley will help you there. But I don’t think you’ll get the answer I need without meeting him face-to face, in the end.’
    That was telling her. ‘And if he runs then—?’
    ‘Then our problem’s solved.’ He sat back. ‘But if he was going to run, I think he would have done so by now, for what it’s worth.’
    So Thomas was a harder nut to crack than Parker, was what he thought. Perhaps even an uncrackable nut.
    ‘Did we make a mistake in ‘58?’ The cathedral reformed momentarily, then collapsed as he reached for the chocolates. ‘Because if we did, then we reactivate our whole Debrecen list. And it’s up to you to tell me, Miss Loftus.’

3
    ‘UNSATISFACTORY , Miss Loftus.’ Major Turnbull answered the question without hesitation. ‘My investigation was unsatisfactory.’
    Elizabeth felt the word envelop her, as though he intended that it should apply to her also. It was only the second time that she had spoken face-to-face to the department’s newest recruit, but her recollection of the first encounter was all too vivid.
    ‘Unsatisfactory, Major?’ The repetition of his rank (if it really was his rank) recalled Major Birkenshawe to mind, but only for an instant, since her own dear old major resembled this one in nothing except that. ‘In what way unsatisfactory?’
    ‘It is evident that you have not read my report, Miss Loftus.’ His unnerving immobility, not only of body and features but also of eye, began to work on her again.
    ‘No, Major.’ She fought the urge to explain her failure, and finally settled on saying nothing at all, remembering the last time—
    ‘ What a dreadful-sounding place !’ (Superintendent Andrew, secure in his impeccable and genuine working-class accent, had been lodged in the tiny village of Grimeby, the better to find out why one of their Known Agents was presently fishing in the troubled waters of the Great Miners’ Strike.) ‘ Grimeby! ’
    But Major Turnbull had waited for her to elaborate on her stupidity.
    ‘ You can see how people living in a place like that might want to throw stones at the police — “ Grimeby ” ! ’
    Only then had Major Turnbull pounced.
    ‘ Had you visited it, Miss Loftus, you would know that Grimeby is a not unattractive hamlet on the edge of Baldersby Dale. And had you cared to research it further, you would know that “ grime ” has nothing whatsoever to do with coal-mining. It refers, in fact, to a standing stone of great antiquity nearby, dating from Viking times and sacred to the Norse god Odin, “ Grim ” , or “ Grimar ” , being a colloquial rendering of his fierce expression. The god of war and battle, Miss Loftus, as well as the patron of wise men and