As they approached the building, Avery sensed that things had changed. For a moment he imagined that the very grass on the wretched bit of lawn had thickened and revived during his brief absence; that the concrete steps leading to the front door, which even in midsummer managed to appear moist and dirty, were now clean and inviting. Somehow he knew, before he entered the building at all, that a new spirit had infected the Department.
It had reached the most humble members of the staff. Pine, impressed no doubt by the black staff car and the sudden passage of busy people, looked spruce and alert. For once he said nothing about cricket scores. The staircase was daubed with wax polish.
In the corridor they met Woodford. He was in a hurry. He was carrying a couple of files with red caution notices on the cover.
“Hullo, John! You’ve landed safely then? Good party?” He really did seem pleased to see him. “Sarah all right now?”
“He’s done well,” said Leclerc quickly. “He had a very difficult run.”
“Ah yes; poor Taylor. We shall need you in the new section. Your wife will have to spare you for a week or two.”
“What was that about Sarah?” Avery asked. Suddenly he was frightened. He hastened down the corridor. Leclerc was calling but he took no notice. He entered his room and stopped dead. There was a second telephone on his desk, and a steel bed like Leclerc’s along the side wall. Beside the new telephone was a piece of military board with a list of emergency telephone numbers pinned to it. The numbers for use during the night were printed in red. On the back of the door hung a two-color poster depicting in profile the head of a man. Across his skull was written keep it here, and across his mouth, don’t let it out here. It took him a moment or two to realize that the poster was an exhortation to security, and not some dreadful joke about Taylor. He lifted the receiver and waited. Carol came in with a tray of papers for signature.
“How did it go?” she asked. “The Boss seems pleased.” She was standing quite close to him.
“Go? There’s no film. It wasn’t among his things. I’m going to resign; I’ve decided. What the hell’s wrong with this phone?”
“They probably don’t know you’re back. There’s a thing from Accounts about your claim for a taxi. They’ve queried it.”
“Taxi?”
“From your flat to the office. The night Taylor died. They say it’s too much.”
“Look, go and stir up the exchange, will you, they must be fast asleep.”
Sarah answered the telephone herself.
“Oh, thank God it’s you.”
Avery said yes, he had got in an hour ago. “Sarah, look, I’ve had enough, I’m going to tell Leclerc.”
But before he could finish she burst out, “John, for God’s sake, what have you been doing? We had the police here, detectives; they want to talk to you about a body that’s arrived at London airport; somebody called Malherbe. They say it was sent from Finland on a false passport.”
He closed his eyes. He wanted to put down the receiver, he held it away from his ear but he still heard her voice, saying John, John. “They say he’s your brother; it’s addressed to you, John; some London undertaker was supposed to be doing it all for you … John, John are you still there?”
“Listen,” he said, “it’s all right. I’ll take care of it now.”
“I told them about Taylor: I had to.”
“Sarah!”
“What else could I do? They thought I was a criminal or something; they didn’t believe me, John! They asked how they could get hold of you; I had to say I didn’t know; I didn’t even know which country or which plane; I was ill, John, I felt awful, I’ve got this damn flu and I’d forgotten to take my pills. They came in the middle of the night, two of them. John, why did they come in the night?”
“What did you tell them? For Christ’s sake, Sarah, what else did you say to them?”