For Fiona Barling
It is by my order and for the good of the State that the bearer of this note hits done what he has done.
3 December, 1627 Richelieu
(From The Three Musketeers by Alexandra Dumas)
PART ONE
THE GENTLE ART OF SHIBBUWICHEE
IN THE EVENT, it was not Henry Jaggard himself but Garrod Harvey who connected the fate of the Department of Intelligence Research and Development with the projected British Museum Exhibition of the Treasures of Ancient Scythia. However, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office had in some sense already pointed the way in its latest signal or the subject of the exhibition, in which the curious request of the visiting Third Deputy-Director of State in the Ministry of Culture had been passed to Jaggard for his attention; and it was Garrod Harvey’s private opinion ever afterwards that Jaggard had already decided to do what he suggested should be done, and had merely been waiting for him to speak up …
‘So it was that fellow Audley who dropped the word to the Prime Minister?’ Typically, although he was far more worried about the situation in the Soviet Embassy, Jaggard embarked on the less pressing matter first. ‘Are you sure, Garry?’
‘Absolutely certain ’ In his role as ‘Creature to the Duke’, Garrod was accustomed to his master’s oblique approaches. ‘But he didn’t do it personally of course. So we’ll never be able to prove it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he’s no fool. He’s an interesting man, in fact —I’ve been studying his curriculum vitae for a couple of days, actually.’ Garrod was well aware of Jaggard’s view of the Research and Development Department, so this piece of anticipation had come all too easily, ‘He’s quite a distinguished scholar in his own right, did you know? Apart from his money and his connections— ’
‘Damn his money and his connections! Are you saying that I can’t go and read the riot act about him to Jack Butler?’
‘Yes, I am. Exactly that.’ The good thing about Jaggard was that he expected straight answers to straight questions. ‘It’s his connections which add up in this case, He’s got a great many of them, going back over nearly thirty years, Henry. Both sides of the Channel, and the Atlantic—the Americans think the world of him.’
‘And the Russians?’
‘And the Israelis,’ Harvey knew then that Jaggard had seen the FCO signal. ‘But in this case it was a woman named Deacon. Laura Deacon, Henry.’
‘Laura— ’ Jaggard frowned at him. ‘Laurie Deacon’s daughter — ?’
‘MP for North Wessex.’ He knew also that Jaggard would be making all the necessary‘ connections now. ’She inherited her father’s safe seat when he went to the Lords. And Audley’s always been very thick with the family: it provides his local MP … and one of his routes into the Commons back-benches, when he wants to have questions asked.‘ He couldn’t risk a smile with Jaggard in his present vengeful mood, so he shrugged instead. ’Perhaps we should be grateful he didn’t do that in this instance.’
‘Oh yes?’ The mood hardened even more. ‘So it was Laura Deacon who spoke to the PM, you’re saying?’
‘They met last Friday. Laura Deacon dropped a name, and she also said that Colonel Butler would know all about it. And the PM summoned Butler directly.’
‘And he spilled the beans directly, too. Why the hell did he do that?’
Harvey rejected the temptation to agree with him. ‘It was his duty, Henry—be fair!’
‘His duty?’
‘His duty.’ Harvey agreed whole-heartedly with his master about the Research and Development Department. But he also liked and respected Jack Butler as an honest and devoted officer. ‘The PM has the right to go direct to the head of R & D, Henry. And the Head of R & D has direct access the other way—that’s how old Fred Clinton constituted it, from way back.’
‘I know that.’ Jaggard gestured dismissively. ‘But he also has a duty to me. And there was no reason why he shouldn’t have told me first—’ He stopped suddenly as he caught the expression on Garrod Harvey’s face. ‘Or was there?’
‘He didn’t have time.’ It was one strike to Jaggard that he also respected Jack Butler. ‘Audley deposited his report on Colonel Butler’s desk about five minutes before the PM’s office rang. So my guess is that he’d planned everything to the minute, practically: that the PM would hit Butler at once, and then the Minister himself immediately after that. He knew what everyone would do—maybe he even knew that the PM would be so pleased at being able to catch the Minister on the hop, as well as being able to suppress the leak—that there wouldn’t be anything we could do against him even if we could trace it all back.’ He watched Jaggard look in vain for loopholes. ‘Because the PM is pleased. So R & D is riding high at the moment, Henry. Because they came up with the information in time, just when it was needed.’
Henry Jaggard scowled at him. ‘But the Minister isn’t pleased.’
‘Ah … yes, I can well imagine that, Henry.’ And so he could. (Another leak in the Minister’s department—albeit plugged in time, but not plugged by the Minister’s own expertise, only by the PM’s superior intelligence.) And he could also see why Henry Jaggard was incandescent with rage, Too. (The Minister was a good friend and ally of his when cuts and economy were the order of the day.) ‘It’s unfortunate.’
‘It’s more than that, Garry. He’s been made to look a fool. And so have I.’ Jaggard’s better side showed as he grinned at Harvey. ‘I can survive that, but this makes him a two-time loser at No. 10. And now I’ve got to tell his Special Adviser in fifteen minutes that I can’t give him the scalp he wants, so this sort of thing won’t happen again.’ The grin evaporated. ‘Is there no way I can give him a scalp, Garry?’
‘Audley’s?’ Harvey knew what his master wanted. But for what he planned to propose he needed more than that. ‘Colonel Butler will never give you Audley, he’d resign first.’ He shook his head. ‘Offering hostages isn’t his style. Besides which, R & D is too busy with Gorbachev at the moment. And Audley’s too valuable—he’s right at the heart of the work.’
‘Yes.’ Jaggard well knew what R & D’s main present preoccupation was. ‘But … this wasn’t any of Audley’s damn business.’
‘That’s not the way David Audley would see it.’ He had to lead Jaggard on, evidently. ‘Clinton gave them carte blanche from the start—as well as direct access to the PM—remember?’ He knew that Jaggard remembered, even though R & D had been born—born by Caesarian section—long before their time. ‘He gave them “Quis cusiodiet ipsos custodes” as their motto. And he always said they were his Tenth Legion, Henry—remember?’
‘Huh! More like a Fifth Column now!’ Jaggard’s nostrils expanded. ‘Audley isn’t even the real problem—R & D is the real problem, itself—no matter how important the work.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘It’s not “Quis custodiet” now—it’s bloody Imperium in imperio!. It’s become a state within a state—and it’s got to be cut down to size, Garry. For the good of the state it was founded to protect, in fact.’
They were almost there. ‘I agree.’ But he needed some reassurance, nevertheless. ‘But with reservations, Henry.’
‘With reservations?’ Jaggard gave him a fierce look. ‘What are you driving at?’
It wasn’t the moment to make some submissive animal-signal: Jaggard was almost as intolerant of yes-men as he was of R & D. ‘Their research is first-rate—particularly their analytical advice. And they’re coming up with first-rate stuff about the Gorbachev appointments right now, Henry—the Americans are trading us all manner of things in exchange for it. So there’s no way we can abolish them—they’re far too useful.’
‘Who said I want to abolish them?’ The fier
ceness amended itself. ‘All we need is to control them, so that they don’t cause trouble on the side—’ Jaggard raised a slender hand ‘—and I don’t mean that they’re not damn good at covering up the trouble they make … and their mistakes too … because they are—I know that—you know that.’ The hand clenched. ‘But they do cause trouble—and they do make mistakes—every time they go into the field on their own account.’ The fist unclenched, and Jaggard tapped the file on his desk. ‘Even, for example, God only knows what sort of mayhem might result from this FCO signal if I let it go any further. Which, of course, I won’t—that, at least, I can stop, anyway.’
They were there at last. But Harvey craned his neck, as though attempting to read the superscription. ‘Which is that—?’
Jaggard covered it. ‘Audley’s too busy with the Gorbachev work. Apart from which he’ll only cause more trouble in this case, if he runs true to form.’
‘’Which was that?‘ Harvey stopped pretending to read through Jaggard’s hand. Because Jaggard was going to tell him anyway.
‘Apart from which the KGB is undoubtedly up to mischief.’ Jaggard gave him an unblinking stare. ‘And since the FCO processed the signal they’ll also want to know what the outcome is. But I shall say “no”.’
‘Ah!’ Harvey let the light dawn. ‘That’ll be that odd communication about Professor Panin, I take it—?’ After letting the light dawn he let himself relax. ‘I was thinking … it’s a curious coincidence, isn’t it—eh?’
‘Curious?’ Jaggard stopped covering the file.
‘Well, there’s obviously no connection between what Audley’s just done and whatever Professor Panin and the KGB may be contemplating.’ He let that out as an arguable statement, because they both knew who Panin was, beyond what the Soviet Embassy and the FCO alleged he was. ‘So it is a pure coincidence, Henry. There can be no question about that.’
The stare cracked, and Jaggard flipped open the file. ‘“Professor Nikolai Andrievich Panin. Third Deputy-Director in the Ministry of Culture: one of the foremost authorities on the archaeology of the royal tombs (6th and 5th century BC) in the bend of the Dnieper, the districts of Poltava and Kiev, and the Crimea’‘? He looked up at Garrod Harvey, then down into the file again. ’”Dr David Longsdon Audley. CBE. Ph.D. MA (Cantab)“—‘ He looked at Harvey again ’—”distinguished medievalist“?‘ This time he didn’t look down again. ’Have you seen this SG?’
That wasn’t a trick question. ‘Yes. My name’s on the list, Henry.’
‘Yes?’ The nostrils blew out again. ‘But I’ve also got a clever-dick note from some wag in the FCO—did you get that too?’
That wasn’t a trick question either. ‘No.’
‘No?’ Jaggard locked down quickly to refresh his memory. ‘I’ve got:
“1. Isn’t Panin one of theirs and Audley one of yours?” And
“2. What has 6th-5th century BC Scythia got to do with Medieval History?” And
“3. Are there any Royal Scythian tombs on Exmoor?”’
Jaggard considered Harvey dispassionately for a moment. ‘And then they advise me that Professor Panin is to be given all reasonable help and consideration, because HM Government is concerned to improve Anglo-Soviet cultural relations, pending projected diplomatic and cultural exchanges running up to possible East-West disarmament talks later in the year.’ He gave Harvey another couple of seconds. ‘Are there any Royal Scythian tombs on Exmoor?’
‘Not that I’ve heard of.’ That was the moment, as the full awfulness of the FCO advice registered, when Garrod Harvey began to suspect that Henry Jaggard had been there ahead of him, thinking the same wicked thoughts. ‘Prehistoric ones, maybe—or Neolithic. But that could be Dartmoor, not Exmoor … ’ He let Jaggard see that he had something else in his mind.
‘Yes?’ Jaggard paid his penny cautiously.
‘I was just thinking.’ On second thoughts it would be better to be honest—or fairly honest, anyway: that usually paid better with Jaggard. ‘Or … I have been thinking.’
‘About what?’ Jaggard hadn’t got his pennyworth yet.
‘About Audley. And Panin.’ He gave Jaggard a seriously questioning glance. ‘I take it the FCO doesn’t really know why Panin is here? That he’s General Zarubin’s Number Two, I mean?’
‘They certainly do not.’ There was a metallic curtness about Jaggard’s reply: it was the sound of the penny dropping. ‘Nobody knows except the Viking Group. You know that.’
‘Yes. So that’s just you and me, and de Gruchy.’ Garrod Harvey deliberately thought aloud. ‘But the Americans also may have an inkling, we decided.’
‘They may.’ Jaggard accepted the thought. ‘They’ve almost certainly got someone of their own in the Soviet Embassy. So it’s just possible they’ve also picked up a hint of the Polish operation—agreed.’
‘Yes. But their man is at a much lower level than our Viking.’ Harvey could see that the very mention of Viking, the highest-placed contact they had ever had in the KGB’s London Station, made Jaggard cautious. Yet he still had to push matters further. ‘So the Polish operation is the one you want us to leave well alone.’
Jaggard stared at him. ‘The one we have to leave well alone, Garry.’ The edge of his patience was beginning to fray. ‘We’ve been through all this.’
‘Even though we know that Zarubin—Zarubin and now Panin … even though we know that they’re up to some bloody mischief.’ Harvey nodded, noting the shift to ‘we’, even though the emphasis had been on ‘have’.
‘Yes.’ Jaggard knew that it had been his rank-pulling decision over their indecision which had swayed the vote. But, to his credit, he had never been afraid of responsibility. ‘Viking’s worth more to us than any bunch of miserable Polacks. And they must be damn close to him already—in fact, I’m not at all sure that this whole Polish thing hasn’t been dreamed up just so that they can pin their leak down. Because we haven’t had a whisper about these so-called “Sons of the Eagle” from our people in Poland—they’ve never even heard of them. But whoever they are, and whatever the KGB’s doing, Viking is just too valuable to risk, that was the decision. So what are you after, then?’
The moment to break cover had arrived. ‘Maybe we don’t have to risk Viking, Henry. Because, according to the FCO, it’s Panin who wants to meet Audley. And Audley doesn’t know anything about Viking—it’s just that he and Panin are both “distinguished scholars”—’ He remembered Audley’s file ‘—and old friends too, maybe?’
‘ “Friends”?’ Jaggard tossed the question aside contemptuously. ‘I thought you said you’d read Audley’s file? Back in ’70—remember?’
‘Yes.’ Panin had got exactly what he wanted in ‘70. But Audley had totally humiliated him in giving him what he wanted, and that would rankle for ever afterwards. But, much more to the point, Jaggard had read that file too. ’So Panin hates Audley. But then Audley also hates Panin, Henry: he’s an old Clinton recruit. And old Fred Clinton always made a point of recruiting on the KGB principle of good haters—“cool head, hot heart”, and all that.‘ He watched Henry Jaggard accept the statement. ’True?’
‘True.’ Henry Jaggard nodded, out of his recent scrutiny of the Audley file: over the years, others before them had crossed swords with David Audley (and had come out of each clash-of-steel with scars, and the wiser); but no one had ever even remotely hinted that his hot heart wasn’t in the right place, though he was a Cambridge man. ‘But Panin is a very dangerous old man, Garry. And—’
‘And so is Audley a dangerous old man, Henry.’ Now they were only negotiating the fine print of the agreement. But they had to go through it line by line, for the record on the tape under Jaggard’s desk. ‘It’s a toss-up which of them is the more dangerous. But I agree that there’ll be trouble when they meet.’ The thought of the tape concentrated Garrod Harvey’s mind. ‘Only my bet is on Audley—like last time.’ There was one more important thing to put on the record. ‘Old Fred Clinton must have made the same
bet back in ’70.‘ Not that the tape mattered, really. Tapes could be edited, but editing tapes wasn’t Henry Jaggard’s style any more than throwing his subordinates to the wolves was Jack Butler’s. ’You’re quite sure that Audley doesn’t know about Viking, I take it?’
Jaggard shook his head slowly, without bothering to answer what wasn’t even a question.
‘What I mean, Henry, is that he doesn’t know—and we can’t tell him, not even if we wanted to, can we?’ Harvey paused deliberately. ‘Not even if he asked us about Panin. Which he won’t in any case, because that isn’t his way of going about things, you see.’
Jaggard leaned forward. ‘Just what exactly are you proposing, Garry? To let Audley go in blind?’
‘David Audley never went into anything blind in all his life.’ All Jaggard wanted was a little reassurance. ‘One of our problems with him in the past has been that he knows too damn much, not too little. So he’ll know Zarubin’s in London for sure—you can bet on that. And he’ll know who Zarubin is, too.’
‘But Poland isn’t his field.’
‘Everything is his field. He’s a Clinton-vintage R & D man born and bred, Henry.’ Harvey briefly considered the possibility that he might have been wrong about Jaggard’s intention, but rejected it. ‘He’s an interesting man. ’
‘ “A distinguished scholar”—so you said.’ Jaggard knew there was more to come. ‘ “A medievalist”. But I would have thought the sixteenth century was more his period. The treachery was more three-dimensional then, if I remember correctly.’
‘Yes.’ That was Henry Jaggard’s period, of course. And, as a devout Calholic, Jaggard had equivocal views on it which were well known. ‘But did you know that he’s also a recognized authority on Rudyard Kipling?’
Jaggard nodded cautiously. ‘Kipling is down as one of his hobbies, in his file.’
‘It’s more than a hobby.’ Harvey silently blessed the young Garrod Harvey Junior’s stuffiest godfather, who had given his birthday presents with such old-fashioned seriousness. ‘He’s just written a series of articles in the Literary Journal. Which are going to be turned into a book, I believe. He believes that Kipling is our most underrated author—and our most misunderstood one.’
For the Good of the State Page 1
