The complete absence of windows gave the room a sense ofbeing right out of time and place, abetted by the bland neon lighting and acoustics which made everyone's voices sound flat and small. The walls were covered in oatmeal-covered sackcloth, and in the centre two heavy tables had been pushed together to form a single one that looked absurdly big for the eight tweed-covered office chairs around it.
"Lock the door when you go out," Sladen added. "And tell the coffee ladies that we'd like ours in, say, three-quarters of an hour?"
He looked around for support and everybody nodded, but the messenger became doubtful. "I expect they'll be here when they get here, sir."
Sladen sighed. "Far easier to change our entire defence policy than alter the timing of one coffee-trolley. Very well, then."
The messenger ambled out and for no good reason everybody stopped talking until they heard the lock click.
"How is the PM, do you hear?" Sladen asked George. "It's been almost a week, now. " He lowered himself very carefully into the chair at the head of the table. He was a stiff man by nature and now his back had seized up on him. The Assistant Secretary from the Cabinet Office, a motherly woman with very neat grey hair and fashionable spectacles, clucked around him, adjusting the embroidered cushion she had brought along.
"Quite chirpy on the phone," George said. "Probably the worst thing wrong with him is Frank Hardacre." Sir Frank, who had earned his knighthood by making house calls only at houses where there might be photographers waiting outside, had once told George he drank too much. "If he survives that he should be back in town next week."
"In the House? Taking Questions?" the Foreign Office asked. He got Mummy's Chair at the opposite end, the natural place for Sladen to look first when asking for comment.
George shrugged. "Tired Tim's quite happy playing Sorcerer's Apprentice. Why close a show that's taking money?" He had to settle for the seat at Sladen'sright hand, opposite the Assistant Secretary. Agnes came next to him and Major-General Sir Bruce Drewery next to her. Across thetable, the younger of the two men from Six had already torn up his place card and put it in his pocket as a gesture of security.
The Assistant Secretary gave Agnes an all-girls-together smile and flipped open her notebook.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I must apologise for dragging you in here at such short notice, but as you will have guessed from the Meeting Notice the urgency…" Urgent or not, Sladen was experienced enough to give them thirty seconds of platitudes while they kicked their briefcases under the table, tugged at their waistcoats – both MI6 men wore them even on a hot June day – and shuffled their papers, although few of them were prepared to put much paperwork on view. One of two Second Permanent Secretaries to the Cabinet, Sladen's whole life was committees, conferences, meetings. He was a thin, thin-faced man and a bad back suited his dignity. His one concession to the heat was a grey suit in place of the usual Cabinet Office blue, with a Trinityist amp; 3rd tie.
"Chairman -" the first off the mark was Guy Husband from Six "-I'm sorry to be singing the school song so early, but the Meeting Notice was classified merely as 'Secret'. Could my service assume that any rrswould only be distributed as 'Top Secret'?"
Sladen glanced down the table. '". air," the Foreign Office said cheerfully. That was Scott-Scobie, a swinger from their harmlessly-named 'Research Department'; forty-fiveish, healthily plump, curly dark hair and wearing a rumpled linen suit.
George nodded. "Agreed. But does this mean that our friends from Dixieland -" the Intelligence Service lived south of the river "- are going to give us a hint of what they're up to these days?"
"We hope everybody will be giving hints of what they're up to," Husband said smoothly. His voice was pleasant but characterless, as if he were mostly concerned with avoiding mistakes; a provincial schooling or all the years in the spy business?
"Sir Bruce?"
"By all means. Classify it any way you prefer. " He was a big Scottish pussycat with a contented purr of a voice.
"Splendid." Then Sladen remembered Agnes; she gave him a happy smile. "Splendid, then. You'll make a note?" The Assistant Secretary already had. "Good. Now, I think we all know that the matter before us concerns Major Maxim, currently attached to the Private Office at Number 10. Guy, perhaps you'd like to…?"
"Yes, Chairman. But first…" Husband had the good looks of a schoolboy football star who had reached forty with one mighty bound: a strong nose, high forehead, brown hair set in tousled wiry waves. Even in a service which had a reputation for snappy dressing, he was an exquisite. His Italian suit was a little too shaped, too light in colour and probably too expensive. He adjusted his blue-tinted pilot-style glasses with a hand that wore a broad gold ring backed up by a gold cufflink in the shape of a reef-knot. Agnes disliked rings on men, although to be fair to Husband – which she had no intention of being – she had little trouble in finding something to dislike about everybody from Six.
"But first, " Husband said again, glancing quickly at Agnes; "may I ask why onr sister service is represented here?-no matter how pretw'i‹r'4 ask only because of the need-to-know principle."
You bastard, X¿'".ísthought. You peacock's prick. She waited for George to answer, but he sat hunched beside her, turning a gold pencil in his fingers. She realised she was on her own; George must be expecting a true Conflict Situation if he was already saving his last bullet for himself.
Our Harry has trodden on some Very Important Toes, she thought.
She became the bright helpful little girl, friendly but perhaps just a little out of her depth among all these clever men. "I only know that the Meeting Notice was sent out according to a list drawn up by the Prime Minister. "
"Deputy Prime Minister," Husband corrected.
"I really don't know. My Director-General asked me to come along because I usually handle the lower-level liaison with Number 10. But -"
"Lower-level,"Husband said quickly. "That, Chairman, is precisely my point, " although it hadn't been to start with.
Her voice stayed steady, despite feeling sick with anger and humiliation; " – but I imagine the Cabinet Office must have had some idea as to whether this is going to touch on security within this country."
Sladen cleared his throat. "I think we can take it that a representative of the Security Service was regarded as, ahh, fundamental."
"I was solely concerned with the need to know," Husband said with deep sincerity.
Nowthere I believe you, Agnes thought. There is something my service needs to know which you don't want us to.
"If there are no other objections," Sladen was carefully not looking for any, "then I think we can proceed with the meeting as it is currently constituted. Now could we -"
"If it comes to that," Sir Bruce rumbled, "I've no clear idea why I'm here myself. Nor," he added, "why that young man is." He smiled lazily across at the second man from Six, directly opposite.
Sladen sighed. "We hope, Sir Bruce, that you might keep a watching brief on behalf of Major Maxim, and indeed the Army as a whole… Mr Sims, also from the Intelligence Service, has specialised knowledge which could help us when we get into more detailed matters. "
Mr Sims, if that was his real name, dressed not so much snappily as very cleanly. His dark blue blazer looked as if it was brand new, as did the white shirt with a very faint grey stripe and the steel blue tie. He was in his middle thirties, his square tanned face set in a permanent appreciative smile, dark hair cut neat and fairly short. Although he chain-smoked menthol cigarettes, his hands – remarkably small hands – were unstained and well manicured.
"Now," Sladen pleaded, "could we please get on?"
Husband had been filling a curved briar from a silver pocket box. He struck a match and breathed a haze of bright blue smoke. "As you probably know, Major Maxim is attached to Number 10for duties that appear not to be precisely defined but touch on security matters. He works, as Sir Anthony said, directly to the Private Office. This whole matter began when my service becameaware of Major Maxim at the scene of asurveillance operation that had been mounted. "