Free Prime Target by Hugh Miller Page B

peace settlement, and thefeeling here was that he could use a shade more support from the USA, which wasn’t officially all that cosy with Israel at the time. Emily and me, we did what we could to high-profile non-political areas of common ground between the two nations.’
    â€˜How did you do that, exactly?’
    â€˜We used press and radio outlets to boost awareness of cultural exchange programmes, we got an information booklet together showing how alike many of the American and Israeli down-home aspirations were. The aim, overall, was to pass on the message, to both nations, that, political differences aside, we were really natural friends. Emily really put her heart into that programme and, as I said, we became real close.’
    â€˜Tell me about Emily as a person,’ Sabrina said. ‘Did she socialize much? Go to parties, the theatre, concerts?’
    â€˜Not after Desmond died,’ Janice said. ‘Not too much before that either, I don’t think…’
    â€˜She took it badly, her husband dying?’
    â€˜Well, wouldn’t you?’
    â€˜Was she a long time getting over it?’
    â€˜She never got over it.’
    â€˜She told you that.’
    â€˜No need. I could tell. The change in her. She became withdrawn. Reclusive. She developed little daily rituals of work that involved only herself, which is easy to do in this line. It’s how you get to be a specialist, and Emily was our shiniest specialist of all. On the ball, always.’
    Sabrina was sure Janice had never been as close to Emily Selby as she thought; crass people often mistake politeness for friendliness. They talked for a few more minutes, long enough for Sabrina to be sure that whatever the extent of Emily’s social life, Janice Cleary knew nothing about it. Sabrina thanked her and apologized for taking her away from work.
    A minute after Janice left, a young man came in. He was tall, with a narrow mouth that looked incapable of smiling. He looked at Sabrina cautiously from pale sunken eyes. He was Joe Dexter. For five years, he said, he had been a research assistant working for three senior political analysts, and Emily Selby had been one of them.
    He talked for ten minutes about Emily, without once needing to be prompted. He described her working methods, her talent for organization, her patience with other people, her unending devotion to her job. He thought the world of her, he said.
    As he continued to talk, Sabrina realized he meant that literally: he thought the world of Emily Selby, and although it appeared Emily had regarded him as no more than a valued assistant, he had obviously been obsessed with her. But he had said nothing, he had never betrayed to Emily any sign of his emotional response to her. It would have been unprofessional to do that, he said.
    Just like me and Mike,
Sabrina thought, startling herself. She had confronted a buried truth, notfor the first time, but, as always, she was inclined to shy away. She bowed her head over her notepad and closed her eyes for a moment.
    Just like me and Mike.
    Nothing had ever been declared, or demonstrated. Usually, it was the opposite of affection that prevailed. They were rivals on the same team, antagonists in a single cause. At times there was a strength of antipathy that felt like hatred, at least on her side. Yet she knew she kept the lid on a richness of feeling that would have engulfed him, smothered him. And she suspected, without having examined the suspicion, that he kept something suppressed, too.
    Joe Dexter fell silent, and Sabrina thanked him for his time. He left without another word.
    She gazed at her notebook. Again, she had been told nothing that threw any real light on Emily Selby. She accepted that she might be going back to New York empty-handed. It would be best to get used to the idea now and work on her defence against Philpott’s displeasure.
    And then the telephone beside her rang. A woman introduced herself as