Simon Green - The Spy Who Haunted Me

His image disappeared, and we were left alone in the huge and empty hall. We didn’t have time to say anything before very suddenly we weren’t in the hall anymore.

And I am here to tell you, if anything Loch Ness was even colder than the Swiss Alps.

So there we were: the six greatest secret agents in the world, masters of the spying arts, standing around in the mud and the long grass and the freezing cold wind, wondering what the hell to do next. We were trained to operate in dark city streets, in shadows and alleyways, where honest So men and women knew better than to go. We plied our trade in smoke-filled rooms and concealed cellars, in abandoned offices and computer rooms at midnight. We were not equipped to deal with lochs. Without clues to follow, suspects to interrogate, or things to steal, we were all frankly at something of a loss. At least I had some experience of the great outdoors; the others gave every indication that they were experiencing the countryside for the very first time and not enjoying it at all. Hell, sunlight was probably a new experience for some of them.

I looked unhurriedly about me. Gray looming hills rose up on either side of Loch Ness, tall and ragged, spotted here and there with clumps of spindly trees and splashes of thick tufty grass. The sky was just as gray, the sun mostly hidden behind dark lowering clouds drifting in from the opposite end of the loch. The waters were a dark blue, still and serene, untroubled by any wildlife. It was a pleasant enough view, in a dour, foreboding sort of way. It had the look of countryside that had been here long before man came along to trouble it, and it would still be here long after we were all gone. Loch Ness was more than old; it was ancient. And what mysteries it had it held close to its chest.

Walker surprised me by taking a deep lungful of the freezing cold air, and then smiling broadly. “Now, that’s more like it. Good fresh country air. Bracing! Makes you feel good to be alive.”

“You’re as weird as everyone says you are,” snarled Peter King, hugging himself against the cold and looking thoroughly miserable and put-upon. “It’s cold, it’s damp . . . and I appear to be standing in some sheep droppings.”

“Don’t rub it off,” the Blue Fairy said wisely. “That’s supposed to bring good luck.”

“It won’t be lucky for the bloody sheep if I get my hands on it,” Peter said darkly, scraping the bottom of his shoe against the spiky grass with grim determination. “These are expensive shoes. Hand-tooled by craftsmen to look good in expensive boardrooms, not assaulted by the unregulated filth of the countryside!”

“I didn’t think it could get this cold outside the Arctic Circle,” said Honey Lake, shuddering inside her long white fur coat. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see a polar bear come swimming down those waters. Probably with a penguin tap-dancing on its back.”

“I like it here,” Katt decided. The cold didn’t seem to be bothering her at all, despite her flimsy dress. She moved in beside me and slipped a slender, knowing arm through mine. She snuggled in close and beamed happily up at me. “It’s very . . . scenic. Dramatic, even. I’d swear that wind’s wuthering. Still, no place for a delicate flower of the city like me.”

“You’re about as delicate as a steamhammer,” said the Blue Fairy. “I’ve seen the state of some of your victims after you’ve finished with them.”

Katt pulled a face at him, and then smiled adoringly up at me from where she was apparently welded to my side. “You and I belong together, Eddie. We appreciate the true qualities of a place like this. We’re both . . . free spirits, independent and unrestrained! We belong in the wild, far from the chains and restrictions of civilised behaviour . . .”

I had to smile at her. “Before this goes any further, Katt, I feel I should point out that I am a Drood. We’re trained to recognise a honey trap and to know real bullshit when we hear it. So save the honeyed words and the ego massage for the civilians.”

Katt laughed easily, not offended in the least. “Can’t blame a girl for trying, darling. And you’d be surprised how many supposedly intelligent men will fall for the most blatant flattery, even in these so-called sophisticated days. Especially if I take a deep breath and push my bosoms out.”

I looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “How many, Katt? How many men have you seduced, betrayed, and murdered, down the years?”

She shrugged prettily. “I don’t keep count, Eddie. It’s just a job. Some men more than others . . . Some were quite sweet.”

“And you killed them all? Even the ones you were fond of?”

“Especially the ones I was fond of, darling. I’ve never allowed anyone to have a hold over me.”

“And you never loved any of them?”

“What a thing to ask, sweetie! I loved them all! In my own way.” She looked out over the loch, her beautiful Asian features untouched by any emotion I could recognise. “I really don’t know what I’m doing here. I mean, monster hunting is so not me. I have always been strictly espionage and problem disposal, with the occasional side order of treachery and blackmail. Stick to what you’re best at; that’s what I always say. The honey trap has always been part of the grand old tradition of spycraft. I am glamorous and decorative, not practical. I do not get my hands dirty, in the literal sense. It’s in my contract.”

“And I suppose you feel the need for a big strong man to look after you,” I said. “To protect you from the nasty monster.”

“Exactly!” Katt snuggled in close again and looked up at me from under heavily mascaraed eyelids. “I don’t do mysteries, I don’t fight monsters, and I very definitely don’t do roughing it. I mean, come on; what am I supposed to do if we should find a monster here? Chuck it under the chin and beguile it with my famous charms?”

“If anyone could, you could,” I said generously.

Katt sighed. “I don’t know why Alexander ever thought to choose me for his precious contest.”

“I think the idea is, we’re supposed to learn to work as a group, calling on our various talents as required,” I said. “All of us working together, for the greater good.”

“Until we have to betray each other,” said Katt.

I smiled at her. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that. Now, if I could have my arm back, please? I have no intention of getting close to you, in any sense of the word. I would quite like to die in bed, but preferably of old age. So do us both a favour and go vamp somebody else.”

She smiled sunnily, let go of my arm, and stepped away. “Your loss, darling.”

She strode off, still somehow sure-footed and graceful even on the muddy bank of the loch. She was heading for Walker, and I mentally wished him the best of luck. I moved over to stand beside Honey, who was staring suspiciously out over the dark unmoving waters of the loch as though she suspected them of planning something. She was standing straight and tall, her hands planted on her hips, looking very much like a general contemplating the field before a battle.

“We have to get organised,” she said, acknowledging my presence without looking around. “We’re on a deadline, and the clock is ticking. Alexander didn’t look as bad as I’d been led to expect, but we have no way of knowing how accurate that vision was. He could go at any time and take all his secrets with him, the selfish bastard. He has a duty to hand over his hoarded information to those best suited to make good use of it. Not make it the prize in a stupid game.”

“I don’t think Alexander King has ever been very strong on duty,” I said.