Floodgate by Alistair MacLean Page A

have to.'

'Would you use it?'

'I don't know. If it was to stop someone from killing a person, well, perhaps, yes. But I couldn't kill a person. I don't like guns. I'm afraid I'm not very brave, sir.'

'Nonsense. Your sentiments do you credit. Feel exactly the same way myself. And it takes a brave girl to venture into Krakerland.' She half-smiled. 'That's where the roll-neck comes in so useful. They can't see the pulse in my neck.'

'Rubbish. How are things among your friends? Anything untoward or exciting afoot.'

'They're not a very exciting lot, sir. Rather dull, really. Most of them are not the social rebels and anti-authority stormtroopers they would like to be thought to be. Of course, there are the drug-pushers and drug-users, and there is a hard core that trade in armaments, selling Russian small-arms to the Irish Republican Army and other disaffected elements. But Peter has told me not to bother about the arms-running side.'

'Disaffected elements? I rather like that. So, Peter, the young lady does not concern herself with gun running. Why?'

'You ask me, sir? America, Russia, Britain, France trade in arms - legally - to the tune of billions of dollars yearly. The Israelis do it, as do the Iranians, Libyans and God knows how many other countries. All with their government's blessings. Who are we to become all God-fearing, moralistic and holier than-thou when private enterprise move in on a tiny scale? Anyway, I know you're not really interested in that side, and that the only things you really are interested in are drugs and those mysterious and increasing threats to the Royal family and members of the Government.'

'Yes, yes, of course. Anything interesting to report on any of these fronts?'

Annemarie shook her head. 'Vasco - you've heard of Vasco?' 'Yes. Never met him, though. Supposed to meet him today. In fact I thought I was meeting him with you.'

'I thought so, too. We'd arranged to meet in a cafe close by here almost an hour ago. No signs, which is most unlike Vasco.' 'This friend of yours - he's a dyed-in-the-wool true-blue Kraker?' 'Well, he seems to be but he can't be, can he? They have some kind of leaders, nobody with any personality or charisma, a kind of loose council, and Vasco appears to be a member or close to it. But he says he's basically against them and I believe him. After all, he works for you. Sort of.'

'But you're in two minds about him?'

'My intelligence, if I have any, says that - well, I'm ambivalent about him. My instincts trust him.'

'Peter?'

'Her instincts are right. He's a cop. Detective sergeant.' 'A policeman.' Annemarie's lips were compressed, her eyes angry. 'Thank you. Thank you very much.'

'Don't be childish,' van Effen said. 'You told him you were a policewoman?'

She didn't answer and de Graaf said hastily: 'It's the need-to-know principle, my dear. He didn't even tell me. I take it he thinks I didn't need to know. You were about to say something about Vasco?' 'Yes. Could be important. I don't know. He told me late last night that he thought he had a lead. He said he had been approached by one of the council, a person who knew that he, Vasco, moved quite often about the outside world - to them, everything beyond their suburban boundaries is the outside world. He said he was being taken to a meeting about midnight to meet someone important. I don't know who the person was.' Van Effen said: 'Who was the person who approached him? Can you describe him?'

'I can describe him, all right. Short, balding, pepper-and-salt beard and a bad squint in his right eye.'

De Graaf looked at van Effen. 'Another eye disorder, but this one for real. This person have a name?'

'Julius.'

'Julius what?'

'Just -' She hesitated. 'Julius Caesar. I know it's crazy, but then they're crazy. Nobody out there ever uses his real name. Right now, as far as names are concerned, they're going through an historical phase. That's the kind of follow-my leader sheep they are. We've got Alexander the Great,