White Eagles Over Serbia Read Free

of King Peter?”
    â€œNo,” said Dombey. “I just want your advice.”
    â€œCould I reach Belgrade? There may be some gossip to be picked up there which would explain it.”
    â€œWould you like to?”
    â€œIf there were a chance of fishing those mountain streams I’d like to very much,” said Methuen candidly, “but to sit in Belgrade and embarrass the Embassy.…”
    â€œAh yes,” said Dombey sadly. “The Embassy.” In general SOq made a point of operating independently of Foreign Office establishments abroad, in order not to compromise their work. “This is an exception,” said Dombey sorrowfully. “I’m sorry about it. So by the way is Sir John. You should see his telegrams. He is dead against your going in. And frankly I’d prefer to operate independently. You could go in as a business man, but visas take an age to come through. I am anxious to push on with this show immediately. Particularly since this last accident. That has worried everyone.” He paused.
    â€œAh!” said Methuen. “At last we are getting to the point. What has, in fact, happened?”
    â€œPeter Anson is dead.”
    â€œAh!” said Methuen soberly.
    â€œYou never met him. He was Military Attaché in Belgrade, and a keen fly-fisherman. He found a way of spending his week-ends in these mountains, and last week he didn’t come back from a trip. Yesterday the OZNA notified the Embassy that they had found his body in the mountains near Novi Pazaar. Shot through the head. By one of these roving Royalist bands.”
    â€œBut how stupid of him”, said Methuen angrily, “to go blundering into an area like this with his trout-rod. I suppose he drove down there in his car, followed all the way?”
    â€œNo. He was cleverer than that. You see every week a car is allowed to take a bag down to the Consulate in Skoplje. The road passes through this area and there is a place in the valley where the OZNA car drops behind a good way. Peter used to drop himself off the car, spend Sunday in the mountains fishing, and pick up the car as it returned at dawn on Monday. Only this time he didn’t come back.”
    There was a long silence. Dombey seated himself behind his desk again and began to draw on the green blotter with a pencil. “You see,” he said softly, “why there isn’t any brief? All this may be quite unworthy of our attention. Peter was of course trying to get in touch with one of these Royalist bands to find out what they were up to. It is quite likely that the Communists are telling the truth. He may have made contacts, only to be shot up by them. You see, the Royalists hate us nearly as much as the Communists do. They consider that we put Tito into power and were responsible for the death of Mihaelovic.”
    â€œI know,” said Methuen wearily.
    â€œWill you go as far as Belgrade. Not into the mountains, please. Just spend a week or two there and see what you can pick up. I shan’t worry if you find nothing. The whole place is under the blanket.”
    â€œHow would I go?”
    â€œThe War Office is sending out a civilian accountant to inspect their establishment there. His visa has been cleared. You could go as Mr. Judson if you wished, and stay for a week or so.”
    â€œAll right,” said Methuen without any marked enthusiasm. “It’s a thankless task. Hated by the reds and blacks, distrusted by the Embassy.…”
    â€œAbove all, no dicing with death,” said Dombey, picking his nose. “Don’t take chances.”
    â€œWhat does the Ambassador think?”
    â€œHe is livid with rage. But the Secretary of State is for us this time so he can’t actually stop you.”
    â€œWhen do I start?”
    â€œWhen can you?”
    â€œI want a week. I shall ask Boris for a brief on the territory. You won’t mind?”
    â€œPeople don’t read files