The Human Factor Part 11

'It's only that stupid security check. You remember the day you met Cynthia at the Zoo... I told them you were at the dentist, but all the same...'

'Yes. I'm the sort of man who's always found out. And yet I nearly always obey the rules. It's my form of loyalty, I suppose. You aren't the same. If I take out a report once to read at lunch, I'm spotted. But I've seen you take them out time after time. You take risks-like they say priests have to do. If I really leaked something-without meaning to, of course-I'd come to you for confession.'

'Expecting absolution?'

'No. But expecting a bit of justice.'

'Then you'd be wrong, Davis. I haven't the faintest idea what the word " justice " means.'

'So you'd condemn me to be shot at dawn?'

'Oh no. I would always absolve the people I liked.'

'Why, then it's you who are the real security risk,' Davis said. 'How long do you suppose this d.a.m.ned check is going on?'

'I suppose till they find their leak or decide there was no leak after all. Perhaps some man in MI5 has misread the evidence.'

'Or some woman, Castle. Why not a woman? It could be one of our secretaries, if it's not me or you or Watson. The thought gives me the creeps. Cynthia promised to dine with me the other night. I was waiting for her at Stone's, and there at the table next door was a pretty girl waiting for someone too. We half smiled at each other because we had both been stood up. Companions in distress. I'd have spoken to her-after all, Cynthia had let me down and then the thought came perhaps she's been planted to catch me, perhaps they heard me reserve the table on the office phone. Perhaps Cynthia kept away under orders. And then who should come in and join the girl-guess who-Daintry.'

'It was probably his daughter.'

'They use daughters in our outfit, don't they? What a d.a.m.n silly profession ours is. You can't trust anyone. Now I even distrust Cynthia. She's making my bed, and G.o.d knows what she hopes to find in it. But all she'll get are yesterday's bread-crumbs. Perhaps they'll a.n.a.lyse those. A crumb could contain a microdot.'

'I can't stay much longer. The Zaire hag is in.'

Davis laid down his gla.s.s. 'I'm d.a.m.ned if whisky tastes the same, since Percival put ideas in my head. Do you think I've got cirrhosis?'

'No. Just go easy for a while.'

'Easier said than done. When I'm bored, I drink. You're lucky to have Sarah. How's Sam?'

'He asks after you a lot. He says n.o.body plays hide-and-seek like you do.'

'A friendly little b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I wish I could have a little b.a.s.t.a.r.d too-but only with Cynthia. What a hope!'

'The climate of Lourenco Marques isn't very good...'

'Oh, people say that it's OK for children up to six.'

'Well, perhaps Cynthia's weakening. After all, she is making your bed.'

'Yes, she'd mother me, I daresay, but she's one of those girls who are looking all the time for someone to admire. She'd like someone serious like you. The trouble is that when I'm serious I can't act serious. Acting serious embarra.s.ses me. Can you picture anyone ever admiring me?'

'Well, Sam does.'

'I doubt if Cynthia enjoys hide-and-seek.'

Cynthia came back. She said, 'Your bed was in an unholy mess. When was it made last?'

'Our daily comes in on Mondays and Fridays and today is Thursday.'

'Why don't you make it yourself?'

'Well, I do sort of pull it up around me when I get in.'

'Those Environment types? What do they do?'

'Oh, they're trained not to notice pollution until it's brought officially to their notice.'

Davis saw the two of them to the door. Cynthia said, 'See you tomorrow,' and went down the stairs. She called over her shoulder that she had a lot of shopping to do.

'"She should never have looked at me If she meant I should not love her."'

Davis quoted. Castle was surprised. He would not have imagined Davis reading Browning-except at school, of course, 'Well,' he said, 'back to the bag.'

'I'm sorry, Castle. I know how that hag irritates you. I'm not malingering, really I'm not. And it's not a hangover. It's my legs, my arms-they feel like jelly.'

'Go back to bed.'

'I think I will. Sam wouldn't find me any good now at hide-and-seek,' Davis added, leaning over the banisters, watching Castle go. As Castle reached the top of the stairs he called out, 'Castle!'

'Yes?' Castle looked up.

'You don't think, do you, this might stop me?' Stop you?'

'I'd be a different man if I could get to Lourenco Marques.'

'I've done my best. I spoke to C.'

'You're a good chap, Castle. Thank you, whatever happens.'

'Go back to bed and rest.'

'I think I will.' But he continued to stand there looking down while Castle turned away.

Chapter VII.

I.

Castle and Daintry arrived last at the registry office and took seats in the back row of the grim brown room. They were divided by four rows of empty chairs from the other guests of whom there were about a dozen, separated into rival clans as in a church marriage, each clan regarding the other with critical interest and some disdain. Only champagne might possibly lead to a truce later between them.

'I suppose that's Colin,' Colonel Daintry said, 'indicating a young man who had just joined his daughter in front of the registrar's table. He added, 'I don't even know his surname.'

'Who's the woman with the handkerchief? She seems upset about something.'

'That's my wife,' Colonel Daintry said. 'I hope we can slip away before she notices.'

'You can't do that. Your daughter won't even know you've come.'

The registrar began to speak. Someone said 'Shhh, as though they were in a theatre and the curtain had risen.'

'Your son-in-law's name is Clutters,' Castle whispered. 'Are you sure?'

'No, but it sounded like that.'

'The registrar gave the kind of brief G.o.dless good wishes which are sometimes described as a lay sermon and a few people left, looking at watches as an excuse. 'Don't you think we could go too?' Daintry asked.

'No.'

All the same no one seemed to notice them as they stood in Victoria Street. The taxis came winging in like birds of prey and Daintry made one more effort to escape.

'It's not fair to your daughter,' Castle argued.

'I don't even know where they're all going,' Daintry said. 'To a hotel, I suppose.'

'We can follow.'

And follow they did all the way to Harrods and beyond through a thin autumnal mist.

'I can't think what hotel...' Daintry said. 'I believe we've lost them.' He leant forward to examine the car ahead. 'No such luck. I can see the back of my wife's head.'

'It's not much to go by.'

'All the same I'm pretty sure of it. We were married for fifteen years.' He added gloomily, 'And we haven't spoken for seven.'

'Champagne will help,' Castle said.

'But I don't like champagne.'

'It's awfully good of you, Castle, to come with me. I couldn't have faced this alone.'

'We'll just have one gla.s.s and go away.'

'I can't imagine where we are heading. I haven't been down this way for years. There seem to be so many new hotels.'

They proceeded in fits and starts down the Brompton Road.

'One generally goes to the bride's home,' Castle said, 'if it's not to a hotel.'

'She hasn't got a home. Officially she shares a flat with some girl-friend, but apparently she's been living quite a while with this chap Clutters. Clutters! What a name!'

'The name may not have been Clutters. The registrar was very indistinct.'

The taxis began to deliver the other guests like giftwrapped parcels at a small too-pretty house in a crescent. It was lucky there were not many of them the houses here had not been built for large parties. Even with two dozen people one felt the walls might bend or the floors give way.

'I think I know where we are-my wife's flat,' Daintry said. 'I heard she'd bought something in Kensington.'

They edged their way up the overloaded stairs into a drawing-room. From every table, from the bookshelves, the piano, from the mantel, china owls gazed at the guests, alert, predatory, with cruel curved beaks. 'Yes, it is her flat,' Daintry said. 'She always had a pa.s.sion for owls but the pa.s.sion's grown since my day.'

They couldn't see his daughter in the crowd which cl.u.s.tered before the buffet. Champagne bottles popped intermittently. There was a wedding cake, and a plaster owl was even balanced on the top of the pink sugar scaffolding. A tall man with a moustache trimmed exactly like Daintry's came up to them and said, 'I don't know who you are, but do help yourselves to the champers.' Judging by the slang he must have dated back nearly to the First World War. He had the absent-minded air of a rather ancient host. 'We've saved on waiters,' he explained.

'I'm Daintry.'

'Daintry?'

'This is my daughter's marriage,' Daintry said in a voice as dry as a biscuit.

'Oh, then you must be Sylvia's husband?'

'Yes. I didn't catch your name.'

'The man went away calling, Sylvia! Sylvia!'

'Let's get out,' Daintry said in desperation.

'You must say h.e.l.lo to your daughter.'

A woman burst her way through the guests at the buffet. Castle recognised the woman who had wept at the registrar's, but she didn't look at all like weeping now. She said, 'Darling, Edward told me you were here. How nice of you to come. I know how desperately busy you always are.'

'Yes, we really have to be going. This is Mr Castle. From the office.'

'That d.a.m.ned office. How do you do, Mr Castle? I must find Elizabeth-and Colin.'

'Don't disturb them. We really have to be going.'

'I'm only up for the day myself. From Brighton. Edward drove me up.'

'Who's Edward?'

'He's been awfully helpful. Ordering the champagne and things. A woman needs a man on these occasions. You haven't changed a bit, darling. how long is it?'

'Six-seven years?'

'How time flies.'

'You've collected a lot more owls.'

'Owls?' She went away calling, 'Colin, Elizabeth, come over here.' They came hand in hand. Daintry didn't a.s.sociate his daughter with child-like tenderness, but she probably thought hand-holding a duty at a wedding.

Elizabeth said, 'How sweet of you to make it, Father. I know how you hate this sort of thing.'

'I've never experienced it before.' He looked at her companion, who wore a carnation and a very new pinstripe suit. His hair was jet black and well combed around the ears.