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said.
    â€˜Who?’ Iles replied.
    â€˜Ava Gardner,’ Harpur said, with the broad A.
    â€˜No, I meant did who have something special for her?’ Iles said.
    â€˜The gardener, Al Fresco,’ Harpur said, ‘with the broad A.’
    â€˜So, yes, “a bit of rough” might be understandable, Maud. But Harpur?’ Iles asked. ‘To stick this label on him would disrespect the word “rough”. There is, after all, rough, and then there’s
rough
. However, I can sense your trained mind tackling this perhaps unexpected material. No doubt, Maud, you’ll want to ask why, if my wife and I now regard their fling as absurd, should I fear that in my absence the two of them might reactivate their déclassé, nomadic intimacy, accompanied most probably by unbecoming, subversive jibes about me? I have to say, Maud, I do not know the answer to this. I am one who will unhesitatingly admit to gaps and even contradictions in my thinking.
    â€˜Possibly, you have not come across this kind of rampant honesty and frankness before. The fucking Home Office is hardly the place to encounter such limpid qualities. But, however one looks at this, Maud, I believe it would be a kind of hubris to leave Harpur at large back there while there is also a fine, friendly woman to be exploited. Harpur won’t, of course, know what “hubris” means. You, Maud, owing to a Classics background, will be familiar with the word and what it denotes – excessive, smug, foolish pride. But I’ll say this for Col, he’ll make a guess at it. OK, he’ll get it wrong, but he will have tried. There’s something admirable about such determination, although doomed. Many would find Col entirely acceptable, no question, but, also no question, they would
not
include those who’ve discovered that, in his abominable, unholy way he has—’
    â€˜You’re telling us, Maud, are you, that the whole supposed Scray hunt was a phoney? A device to get Tom so-called Parry into a spot – the non-CCTV’d building site – where he could be safely taken out?’ Harpur said.
    â€˜This is what I would like you and Desmond to establish,’ she said.
    â€˜If it can be established,’ Harpur replied.
    â€˜I think we should come at things positively,’ Maud said.
    â€˜But you won’t be coming at them. We will,’ Harpur said.
    â€˜Col can be sharp on phrasing,’ Iles said. ‘He has been shaped by what is referred to unapologetically as “the university of life”. He had an Open Scholarship to that one.’
    â€˜It’s among a hundred hazards of going undercover, isn’t it?’ Maud replied. ‘The planted officer finds as part of his spying that some members of the infiltrated gang have a money arrangement with certain cops – probably Drugs Squad people. Perhaps he or she shows too much interest in this. His or her cover crumbles. Both sides – the villains and the corrupt detectives – decide he or she is a fink, and also decide he or she might expose their jolly arrangement. They want him or her dead, and soon – before he or she has enough evidence to convince a court. They scheme an operation where he or she can be seen off, as if by someone from a competing firm, in a company battle. So neat.’
    â€˜But
you
think he was killed by a police officer?’ Harpur asked.
    â€˜Col can have flashes of insight. I did warn you,’ Iles said. The ACC was calm again now, and rational. His fits never lasted long. He was aware afterwards that they’d taken place. No blackout. A couple of weeks ago he’d said to Harpur, following a bout, ‘Debussy used to have mind-wobbles, too, but they didn’t spoil his compositions, Col: in fact, they perhaps gave his music an extra, thrilling, other-worldly touch. Likewise, my work is enhanced.’
    â€˜I’ve often thought it should be
Clair de loon
,