All Honourable Men by Gavin Lyall Read Free Book Online Page B

eyed him closely. “It would be entirely inappropriate in your work. Now, for me, it would be rather suitable. They could say ‘He’s a swine, but a
just
swine.’ I’d like that. But I’m Chief of this Bureau and you’re not, and
my
sense of justice is all we need.”
    â€œAs evidence of our good faith?” Ranklin suggested. “For good future relations?”
    The Commander was still looking at him. “Umm. Well, perhaps. . . Did you like this van der Brock?” he asked casually.
    â€œLike him? I don’t think so, particularly . . . He was more like . . . family. One of us.”
    That was just the sort of answer the Commander’s temper had been waiting for. “No he bloody well wasn’t! Only
we
are us.”

5
    The fog cleared the next day and more typical March winds blew in. The railway companies found out where their trains were and began moving them to where they ought to be. Scotland Yard made no visible progress on the Gunther case and wished the popular papers would shut up about it. Ranklin surreptitiously opened a file on the case and kept it in the Registry – a single, albeit locked, bookcase – misleadingly labelled “Historical/Biblical Espionage”. The Commander believed he’d invented spying and wasn’t interested in history.
    So Ranklin wasn’t worried that he’d found the file when he was called into the inner office. The Commander fluttered a message at him. “They want you at a meeting at the Admiralty – or rather, they want me or our Turkish expert.”
    â€œWho’s ‘they’, sir?”
    â€œIt sounds like a conference of the powers: the Foreign Office and the India Office, as well. That’s why I’m not going myself.” He grinned. “They may have wheeled out the big guns to bully me into something and they can’t if I’m not there. So just say what an interesting idea and you’re sorry you can’t take a final decision yourself.”
    â€œThe India Office?” That Office handled, as one would expect, Indian affairs, and Ranklin hadn’t thought of it as being interested in Turkey. But, old-maidishly, India could imagine enemies at very long range. Until now, it had usually been Russia, but with her more-or-less an ally, perhaps the Turkish Empire – stretching to the Gulf of Persia – had been promoted to bogeyman.
    â€œYes, them. The only other clue is that they expect you to be
au fait
with the Baghdad Railway. What d’you know about it?”
    Ranklin shuffled his thoughts. “It adds on to the existing line from Constantinople into central Turkey. They’re building an extension through the mountains on the south coast and down across Syria to Baghdad. And probably further, to Basra and perhaps the Persian Gulf—”
    â€œâ€˜They’ being?” the Commander prompted, smiling.
    â€œSome German company—”
    â€œRight. Hold those two thoughts in mind: a German company and the Persian Gulf, and you’ll see what’s exercising minds at the Foreign Office. Sir Aylmer Corbin’s going to be at the meeting.”
    â€œAh.” Corbin headed the anti-German faction in the Foreign Office, seeing the shadow of a
Pickelhaube
helmet darkening the map of Europe. Asia Minor too, it now seemed. “Do you know who else will be there?”
    The Commander consulted the message. “Hapgood from the India Office. You don’t know him? He’s a very. . .
worthy
chap. Most able.”
    Or, decoded, Hapgood did not come from one of the great landed families. Presumably not even from one of the great university families, who made up in brains what they lacked in acres. Well, bully for Hapgood making it to the India Office. Poor isolated sod.
    â€œI believe he’s one of a select few who understand the rupee.”
    To Ranklin the rupee was just currency. “Understands