Read Online Dominion by C. J. Sansom - Free Book Online Page B

quickly through the tail-tags.
    He was halfway through when he heard a loud voice beyond the door speak his name. He froze, one of the secret papers still in his hand.
    ‘Fitzgerald’s not in his office.’ It was the deep voice of his superior, Archie Hubbold. ‘I’ve come down to the Registry, you know my office phone isn’t
working. I
have
mentioned it.’ David realized Hubbold was talking to the porter on the Registry telephone, speaking, as he always did to non-administrative staff, as though to a
half-witted child. ‘Are you sure you saw him come in?’ He heard a couple of grunts and then, ‘All right. Goodbye.’ There were a few dreadful seconds of silence before he
heard, faintly, Hubbold’s footsteps padding away.
    There was a chair by the desk and David sat down. He forced himself to be calm. Hubbold occasionally came in to work at weekends, and the porter must have told him David was in. He must have
gone to David’s office, then come down to the Registry to telephone.
    He had to get back to his room fast; finding him absent, Hubbold would probably have left a note. He would have to tell him he had been in the toilet; Hubbold was too fastidious to look for
someone in there. Moving as rapidly as he could, David replaced the remaining papers in the files. He always liked to double-check everything was in order but there wasn’t time now. He
re-tagged the papers from the High Commissioners’ file and then, with a deep breath, unlocked the door, stepped out, and locked it again.
    Back in the office, Hubbold had indeed left a note for him.
Heard you were in. Could I have a final look at the HC file please. AH.
David put the file back under his arm and hurried out,
walking rapidly up the stairs to Hubbold’s office on the floor above.
    Archie Hubbold was a short, stocky man with thinning white hair. Thick glasses magnified his eyes, making his expression unreadable. He and David had moved to the Political
Division at the same time, three years ago. It had been a sideways move for David, though he was overdue for promotion. But David knew that although he was regarded as reliable and conscientious he
was thought to lack the spike of ambition. Hubbold, though, had relished his promotion to Assistant Under-Secretary. He was vain, pompous and pernickety, but sharp and watchful, too. When policy
issues were discussed, like many in the Service he enjoyed paradoxes, playing one view off against another.
    David knocked on Hubbold’s door. A deep voice called, ‘Enter,’ and he forced himself to smile casually as he went in.
    Hubbold waved his junior to a chair. ‘So you’re working overtime as well.’
    ‘Yes, Mr Hubbold. Just wanted to check all was well on the agenda. I got your note. Sorry, I was in the gents.’ David patted the file under his arm. ‘You wished to see
this?’
    Hubbold smiled generously. ‘If you’ve been checking it over, I’m sure it’ll be all right.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver box, tapping two
little spots of brown powder onto the back of his hand. Many senior civil servants liked to cultivate some personal eccentricity, and Hubbold’s was that he took snuff, like an
eighteenth-century gentleman. He sniffed quickly, then sighed with mild pleasure and looked at David. ‘You mustn’t make a habit of weekend work, Fitzgerald. What will your wife think of
us, keeping your nose to the grindstone all the time?’
    ‘She doesn’t mind now and then.’ Hubbold had met Sarah at a couple of office social functions. He had been there with his own wife, a brash, tactless woman who had hogged the
conversation, to her husband’s obvious annoyance.
    ‘Spending time together is
de bene esse
of a good marriage, you know.’ Hubbold, like so many in the Civil Service, loved peppering his conversation with Latin tags.
    ‘Yes, sir,’ David answered, an unintended coldness coming into his voice.
    Hubbold said, in a more formal tone, ‘There’s