Empire Of Blood

Chapter 28

J's telephone rang shrilly. He pushed the file he was examining to one side and picked up the phone. Lord Leighton's voice sounded in his ear.

«Good evening, J. Trust I'm not disturbing you.»

«Not at all, Leighton, not at all.» That was truer than it usually was. Even if it had been entirely untrue, J would still have said it. Leighton hadn't changed a bit in all the time they'd been working together-he would have interrupted God if the impulse came over him. But he tried to do it politely now.

«Very good, very good. I'm afraid we're facing a rather serious problem with the underground complex.»

J winced. «Indeed? What sort of a problem?»

«You remember that Richard came back this time in a golden bathtub filled with water?»

J certainly did. The golden tub had been appraised at thirty thousand pounds by MI6's confidential experts on such matters. That would be a useful sum of money. But Leighton didn't sound too happy about the gold. Of course! The water.

«I gather the water was a bit dangerous?»

«It certainly was. Fortunately, the tub landed upright. But imagine what would have happened if it had overturned! We'd have blown circuits all over the complex and probably electrocuted ourselves and Richard as well. I'm afraid there's no alternative, J. We'll just have to move everything out of the underground complex to another site that's less vulnerable to flooding.»

For a moment J's mouth hung open as he struggled for both words and self-control. «What?» he began to explode. «Do you realize that will cost at least seven million-!» Then he broke off. Something in Leighton's voice wasn't quite what it should be for an announcement like this. He took several deep breaths, then spoke again.

«Leighton-is there by any chance a sly grin on your face at this moment?»

An unmistakable chuckle came over the wire. «I'm rather afraid there is, J. I couldn't resist the impulse.»

J resisted an impulse to tell the scientist exactly what he thought of the joke and another impulse to take a taxi to the man's apartment and smartly box his ears in the best schoolboy manner. When both impulses were firmly under control, he went on.

«Never mind the impulses. What's the real situation?»

«Well, if that tub had gone over it could have been rather expensive-we'd very likely have to replace the booth and the chair. But as far as the rest is concerned, I had ninety-five out of a hundred chances of cutting all circuits before any really serious damage was done.»

«What about the odd five chances?»

«I would like an automatic monitor hooked into the circuit controls. It would be activated as soon as the return sequence is completed and Richard is safely back with us and go into action if there were any flood or fire or other anomaly. That will cost some money, but it will be rather closer to seven thousand pounds than to seven million.»

«That sounds within reason,» said J. He could not help adding, «Even if you aren't.» The response to that was another chuckle and then a click as Leighton hung up.

J sighed. As if there weren't enough problems already! Now Leighton was developing a taste for practical jokes.

Then J reminded himself to keep things in proportion. The situation could be far worse. Consider.

Richard was back safe and sound, alive, healthy, unwounded, with the commando knife (which he had put to very good use), and the great golden bathtub.

The mystery hero problem was not getting any better, but it wasn't getting any worse either.

Leighton might be developing a taste for practical joke, but he hadn't conceived any new lines of research that would have to be started at once at the cost of several million pounds.

No, when all was said and done, Lord Leighton's new vice was hardly a problem worth worrying about.

It complicated things, of course. But J knew that if he'd really wanted a simple life, he would never have decided to stay in espionage work so many years ago. He would have made a modest and secure career in the army. Or he might even have followed in his father's footsteps, living quietly on his estates, collecting Byzantine art and manuscripts and keeping bees. No, he had made his choice all those years ago, and he'd made it with his eyes open.

Nor had he ever really regretted it.

J laughed quietly to himself, drew the file back in front of him, and began to work through it again.