‘Ladies, gentlemen,’ (he wasn’t one for preamble), ‘what I have to say would seem fantastic to almost anyone outside these walls, as would almost everything that goes on within them. But I’ll try not to bore you with too many things you already know. Mainly, I’ve gathered you together to tell you we have one hell of a problem. First I’ll tell you how it came to be, and how it came to light. Then you’ll have to tell me how we’re going to deal with it, in which instance I know that even the least of you – if there is such a thing – has more practical experience than I have. In fact, you’re the only people with practical experience of these things, and so the only ones who can deal with the matter in hand.’
He took a deep breath, then continued: ‘Some time ago we appointed a traitor as head of E-Branch. I’m talking about Wellesley, yes. Well, he can’t do any more harm. But after him it was my job to make sure it couldn’t happen again. In short, we needed someone who was capable of spying on the spies. Now, I know you people have an unwritten code: you don’t spy on each other. So I couldn’t use one of you, not in situ anyway. I had to take one of you out of the Branch and make him responsible to myself alone. And I had to do it before he could build up too many loyalties. So I chose Geoffrey Paxton, a relative newcomer, as my watcher over the watchers.’
He at once held up his hands, as if to ward off protests, though none was forthcoming – as yet. ‘None of you, and I do mean none of you, was suspect in any way. But after Wellesley I couldn’t take any chances. Still, I’d like to have it understood that your personal lives are still yours, and no tampering. Paxton has always been under the strictest instructions not to interfere or pry into anything extraneous, but confine himself solely to Branch business. Which is to say, Branch security.
‘A few weeks ago we had some business in the Mediterranean. Two of our members, Layard and Jordan, had come up against . . . unpleasant opposition. It was the worst sort of business, but not without precedent. The head of E-Branch, Darcy Clarke, went out there with Harry Keogh and Sandra Markham to see what could be done. Later, Trask and Chung joined them, and they also had help from other quarters. As for qualifications: Clarke and Trask both had experience of that sort of thing, and Keogh . . . well, Keogh is Keogh. If he could be reactivated, get his talents back, that would be a wonderful bonus for the Branch. But initially he went out as an observer and adviser, for no one knew more about vampirism than he did . . .’ (And here he paused, perhaps significantly.)
‘Now, we still don’t know exactly what happened out there in Rhodes, the Greek islands, Romania, but we do know that we lost Trevor Jordan, Ken Layard and Sandra Markham. I mean lost them dead! So it can be seen they had a real problem, one which Darcy Clarke would have us believe is now . . . resolved? Harry Keogh, of course, could tell us everything, but so far he’s chosen to tell us very little.’
By now the breathing of the Minister’s audience was quite audible, perhaps even heavy, impatient; and he saw that someone had stood up. Since the light was on the podium he had to squint to see who it was on his feet back there in the shadows, but in a little while he made it out to be the very tall, skeletally thin hunchman or prognosticator Ian Goodly. ‘Yes, Mr Goodly?’
‘Minister,’ Goodly answered, his high-pitched voice shrill but not unnaturally or unusually so, ‘I know you won’t be offended by any sort of imagined implication when I say that so far every word you’ve said has been spoken with absolute honesty and integrity. It came straight from the heart, was told the way you see it and with the best of intentions. I don’t think anyone here doubts that, or that it takes a brave sort of man to come in here and try to tell us anything, especially in the knowledge that there are people here who could pick your mind clean in a moment.’