Famine by John Creasey

spoke without glancing at Palfrey. Her voice was quite calm and unemotional.
    â€œDo you see what I see?”
    â€œYes. The proof that you were right in saying you saw rabbits attack a man.”
    â€œThese are the creatures who killed my husband.”
    Palfrey nodded.
    â€œI want to work with you,” Betty said.
    â€œFor revenge?”
    â€œIn a way.”
    â€œRevenge doesn’t make for good detection.”
    â€œIt wouldn’t affect my judgement,” she asserted.
    â€œI would need proof of that.”
    She didn’t answer, but turned to look at Palfrey, and there was almost a touch of humour in her eyes, as if even in the face of tragedy, she could laugh; or at least, see the funny side of a situation. She was a handsome woman, although it was a handsomeness not immediately apparent. Her eyes were greenish-grey in colour, and her skin almost without blemish.
    â€œYou are the Dr. Palfrey, aren’t you? Of Z5?”
    So many crises had made it impossible to conceal who he was or what he worked for; Z5 was no longer a secret department, although so many of its operations were unknown to the world.
    â€œYes,” he said.
    â€œI am alone,” she stated simply. “Dave was all I lived for. The farm can be sold. I am no good as a farmer, although I got by as a farmer’s wife. I’m out of work, and I could be very useful to you.”
    â€œWhat makes you so sure?” asked Palfrey.
    â€œI’m never afraid for long,” she said. “Not after the first shock.”
    â€œIndeed?”
    â€œDon’t laugh at me if I say that there’s something in my metabolism which acts like a tranquilliser. Dave used to swear that I was the most even-tempered woman he had ever met, that nothing ruffled me. It doesn’t, I promise you. Let me work for you, please.”
    The appeal was so simple and direct that Palfrey was nearly lured into agreeing. Nearly, but not quite. Instead he smiled gently, and put a hand on her arm.
    â€œIf I can, I will.”
    â€œAre you the one to decide?”
    â€œYes,” Palfrey said. “I have to, eventually. That’s why I can’t afford to make any mistakes about the people who work for Z5.”
    â€œMeaning that you will screen me.”
    â€œOf course. Thoroughly.”
    â€œI shall come through satisfactorily,” she announced in a matter-of-fact tone. “There’s nothing anyone can find out against me. How long will it take?”
    â€œSome days.”
    â€œIt’s an age since David died, already.” Betty Fordham said. “Is there anything I can do while I’m on probation?”
    She took it for granted that the only thing which stood between her and his trust was time, and he did not believe this was the moment to disabuse her. Nor could he be sure that there was no task for her, even though she was a risk, at this moment. It was surprising that she had not reminded him that a short while ago he had been forced to trust her, and had asked her to help him.
    He bent down, and picking up a stone stirred the rabbit man, making sure he did not touch the body with his bare fingers. He called to mind the way she had described the rabbits leaping at Neil Anderson, and he wondered what would happen if a hundred, even a dozen, of such creatures were let loose in a crowd.
    He shivered.
    â€œIt’s horrible, isn’t it,” Betty said. “Horrible.” She looked at him steadily, and went on: “Is this colony the only colony, or are there lots of others?”
    Quite truthfully, Palfrey said: “I don’t know for certain. I think there is at least one other.” He did not add: “In the Congo.”
    â€œThen you’d better not lose any time finding out how many,” she said, authoritatively, and before he could comment she went on: “Do you think we’ll catch all those that were here?”
    â€œI don’t think they’ve a