'The Deputy?'

'Well, he was demanding to see the bloody D-G, no less. Dicky told him the D-G was away sick but Mr Volkmann wasn't buying that one. It was obvious that seeing Dicky would only put his back up worse, so the Deputy offered to handle it.'

'Good on the Deputy,' I said.

'Sir Percy is all right. He's got guts and he's willing to make decisions.'

'And there are not many people in London Central who answer to that description.'

'And meeting the Deputy calmed Werner down. It was when he thought they were trying to get rid of him that he got really angry.'

'And an angry Werner is not a pretty sight.'

'I was surprised. Dicky was too. I think it's that damned beard. Dicky was frightened of him. Dicky took refuge in Morgan's room and closed the door, not noticing that I was standing there. He said to Morgan that all these field agents are yobs. When he realized that I'd overheard him, he smiled as if to make it into a joke.'

'What did the Deputy say to Werner?'

'No one knows. There was just the two of them. They were together for nearly an hour; I don't know whether that means they got along just fine, or that they were at each other's throats, but Volkmann came out all smiles so I suppose the Deputy did a good job.'

'I'm damned glad I missed it,' I said.

'Did you know he was going along to raise hell?'

'He may have mentioned it.'

'You bastard.'

'What did I do?'

'You could have talked him round the other night. You let him come into the office and raise hell. That amused you I suppose?' She said it without bitterness. In some ways I suspected that the notion of me as a trouble-maker was not unattractive to her.

'Maybe I could have done: maybe not. But it's not as simple as it looks. This is pan of Werner's on-going feud with Frank Harrington. Werner has always hated Frank and I'm determined not to be in the middle of any dispute between those two. I'd end up losing two good friends and I haven't got enough friends to risk losing two of the best ones, in order to smooth things along for Dicky and Morgan and the rest of them in the office.'

'You were lucky to avoid it all. Then yesterday your friend Lucinda came to call.'

'Cindy Prettyman?'

'Lucinda Matthews she calls herself nowadays. She was most particular about that.'

'She came to the office?'

'No, this was Saturday, she came to Balaklava Road. I was in and out with the car. I'd left the garage door open on account of that broken hinge, so she walked right in on me. I cursed. I was trying to get the children's laundry done so that Mrs Palmer could help with the ironing.'

'What did she want?'

'The usual. Her husband's "murder" and the RGB slush fund and the conspiracy behind it. You know.'

'Did she tell you all that?'

'I thought she'd never stop. Finally I said you'd get together with her one day next week. Not at the office, she says, because someone might see you together. If you ask me, darling, she's off her head.'

'Has something new happened?'

'She said I was to tell you that she has a new line on the money. And she wants a box of papers she gave you. She thinks they might contain a clue.'

'She won't get much joy from that stuff,' I said. 'Unless she's suddenly taken up archaeology.' Without intending to, I sighed deeply. I was not ready to face Cindy again.

'She said you'd want to know. She's heard of some money being moved. They are running scared, she says. They must realize that someone is on to them. All that sort of thing. She's bonkers.'

'Cindy has been working hard.'

Gloria wasn't too keen to endorse this praise for Cindy. 'She doesn't know what she's talking about,' said Gloria. 'A lot of hot money is being pulled out of German banks and companies right now. It's because the Bonn government is bringing in new laws. The EEC have instructed them to bring German corporate balance sheets into line with those of other countries. Until now German private banks and private corporations haven't had to reveal their profits. By next year it won't be so easy to bury money in a bank or corporation. Central Funding is sure to be preparing for that change.'

'I thought the German banks reported everything to the German tax authorities. I thought Germany didn't have hot money.'

Gloria shook her head. 'They only have to report their customers' money darling. Their own money, and all the rich pickings they make, are kept secret. You know what all those bloody High Street banks are like: well, German banks are ten times worse.'

'How do you know all this?'

'My economics classes. The West German financial markets is my special subject.'

'Did you tell Cindy this?'

'She thinks I'm your dumb blonde. She didn't come round to talk to me.' Gloria's grilled liver arrived. It looked good: I stole a piece of saute potato and let her eat her lunch in peace.

'I suppose eventually I'll have to talk to Cindy. I owe it to Jim.'

'She says phone her at home and she'll meet you at the weekend.' Gloria abandoned her liver and put her knife and fork down. It was a different tone of voice now: serious and concerned. 'I really do think she's unbalanced, Bernard. She parked her car miles away, in front of Inkerman Villas. I told her it was private parking there, and she might get towed away, but she wouldn't listen. She kept looking out of the window as though someone might have followed her. When I asked her what was the matter, she said she was just admiring the view. She has a mad sort of look in her eyes. She's scary.'

'I'll have to phone her,' I said while searching my mind for excuses not to. 'But I wish she'd leave me out of it. I've already ruffled Bret's feathers, and I ask myself what for? I've got enough work, and enough enemies, without looking for more.'

'You said you wanted to get to the bottom of it,' said Gloria.

'But I just can't spare any more time. It's just another one of the Department's little secrets, and if they are so determined that it remains a mystery; then let it stay a mystery. Everything I encounter mystifies me, I don't need any more.'

'Do I mystify you, my poor darling?' She reached out and stroked my hand.

'You especially,' I said.

'Do you think Alfonso would give me a bag so I can take the rest of my liver home for Muffin?' she said without expecting a reply, and added, 'Your friend Cindy won't let it go so easily.'

'She has more spare time than I do, and she likes these "causes". Cindy's always been a bit like that: animal welfare, women priests, diesel emission is killing the trees. She has to have a cause.'

'I think she's abnormal,' said Gloria in that flat casual voice that suggested that she didn't care one way or the other. She had switched off now. Gloria could do that. It was a knack I would dearly like to acquire. Suddenly she raised an arm and shouted, 'Can I have some coffee, Alfonso?'

'Make that two,' I called to him but he gave no sign of having heard me.

I'm sorry,' she said, 'I forgot that you don't like me to order things when I'm with you.'

'Are you wrapping that liver up in your handkerchief. Ugh!'

'Muffin loves liver.' She put the little parcel in her handbag as the coffee arrived.

'I shouldn't be drinking coffee,' I said. 'I need to go to bed.'

'The children won't be home until supper. Maybe I will go to bed too,' she said artlessly.

'Race you home!'