The Tightrope Men / The Enemy by Desmond Bagley

you’re missing, and then I’m told that you isolated yourself on a mountain top - for what reason only you know.’
    He raised his hand to intercept interruption. Denison did not mind; he was not going to say anything, anyway.
    ‘All right,’ said Carey. ‘I know the story you told the local coppers. It was a good improvisation and maybe they’ll buy it and maybe they won’t.’ He put his hands flat on the desk. ‘Now what really happened?’
    ‘I was up there walking through the woods,’ said Denison, ‘when suddenly a man attacked me.’
    ‘Description?’
    ‘Tall. Broad. Not unlike you in build, but younger. He had black hair. His nose was broken. He had something in his hand - he was going to hit me with it. Some sort of cosh, I suppose.’
    ‘So what did you do?’
    ‘I laid him out,’ said Denison.
    ‘ You laid him out,’ said Carey in a flat voice. There was disbelief in his eye.
    ‘I laid him out,’ said Denison evenly. He paused. ‘I was a useful boxer at one time.’
    Carey frowned and drummed his fingers. ‘Then what happened?’
    ‘Another man was coming at me from behind, so I ran for it.’
    ‘Wise man - some of the time, anyway. And…?’
    ‘Another man intercepted me from the front.’
    ‘Describe him.’
    ‘Shortish - about five foot seven - with a rat-face and a long nose. Dressed in jeans and a blue jersey. He had a knife.’
    ‘He had a knife, did he?’ said Carey. ‘So what did you do about that?’
    ‘Well, the other chap was coming up behind fast - I didn’t have much time to think - so I charged the joker with the knife and sold him the dummy at the last moment’
    ‘You what ?’
    ‘I sold him the dummy. It’s a rugby expression meaning…’
    ‘I know what it means,’ snapped Carey. ‘I suppose you were a useful rugby player at one time, too.’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Denison.
    Carey bent his head and put his hand to his brow so that his face was hidden. He seemed to be suppressing some strong emotion. ‘What happened next?’ he asked in a muffled voice.
    ‘By that time I’d got back to the car park - and there was another man.’
    ‘Another man,’ said Carey tiredly. ‘Description.’
    ‘Not much. I think he wore a grey suit He had a gun.’
    ‘Escalating on you, weren’t they?’ said Carey. His voice was savage. ‘So what did you do then?’
    ‘I was in the car by the time I saw the gun and I got out of there fast and…’
    ‘And did a Steve McQueen through the Spiralen, roared through Drammen like an express train and butted a copper in the arse.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Denison simply. ‘That about wraps it up.’
    ‘I should think it does,’ said Carey. He was silent for a while, then he said, ‘Regardless of the improbability of all this, I’d still like to know why you went to Drammen in the first place, and why you took the trouble to shake off any followers before leaving Oslo.’
    ‘Shake off followers,’ said Denison blankly. ‘I didn’t know I was being followed.’
    ‘You know now. It was for your own protection. But my man says he’s never seen such an expert job of shaking a tailin his life. You were up to all the tricks. You nearly succeeded twice, and you did succeed the third time.’
    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Denison. ‘I lost my way a couple of times, that’s all.’
    Carey took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. ‘You lost your way,’ he breathed. His voice became deep and solemn. ‘Dr Meyrick: can you tell me why you lost your way when you know this area better than your own county of Buckinghamshire? You showed no signs of losing your way when you went to Drammen last week.’
    Denison took the plunge. ‘Perhaps it’s because I’m not Dr Meyrick.’
    Carey whispered, ‘ What did you say? ’

SIX
    Denison told all of it.
    When he had finished Carey’s expression was a mixture of perturbation and harassment. He heard everything Denison had to say but made no comment;