The Best of British Crime omnibus by Andrew Garve, David Williams, Francis Durbridge Page A

Last year I was there for six whole weeks.’
    â€˜That’s a long holiday,’ remarked Cressey. ‘It was at a rest home for workers. You know our workers have wonderful holidays, all quite free.’ Tanya didn’t explain the selection system. ‘It was near Mount Elbruz, and on one expedition I climbed four thousand metres, right up into the glacier. It was a mass climb in celebration of the founding of the autonomous republic – very exciting, with ice picks and ropes. A special postage stamp was struck in honour of the event.’
    â€˜Talking of postage stamps,’ said Tranter, ‘I’m reminded that I promised a nephew to take some back with me. I mustn’t forget.’
    â€˜I will go with you to the post office myself,’ Tanya said, ‘and I will choose you a beautiful selection. You, too, Mr Cressey – you must take some of our stamps back with you. They are very artistic.’
    â€˜They’re not much good from the collector’s point of view,’ said Cressey. ‘You’ve printed too many of them.’
    Bolting laughed. ‘Joe,’ he said, ‘I sometimes think you deliberately set out to be difficult. Now why don’t you accept Miss Tanya’s offer nicely – you can always learn something fresh, you know.’
    â€˜Well, you see… ’ began Cressey, but before he could begin to explain Jeff burst upon us with apologies, and took Tanya’s arm. ‘Honey,’ he said, ‘would you come and translate something for me? There’s a guy here who’s trying to tell me about some meteorite that fell last year… ’
    Tanya said, Will you excuse me?’ and followed Jeff through the crowd, taking Cressey along with her. The others began to circulate – all except Bolting. As I turned to the table to refill my glass he picked up a bottle of wine and examined the label. ‘Tsinandali 1933,’ he said. ‘An excellent wine – very sound indeed. Will you join me, Mr Verney?’
    â€˜With pleasure. Are you a connoisseur?’
    â€˜Only in a very minor way.’ He filled my glass and then his own and looked at me oddly. ‘So in spite of your political prejudices, Mr Verney, I gather you like this country. Shall we drink to eternal Russia?’
    I smiled. ‘I’ll be happy to join you in that.’
    We drank, savouring the wine, which was indeed not at all bad. Bolting, who was evidently in an expansive mood, said, ‘I was born here, you know.’
    â€˜Is that so? Then that accounts for your fluent Russian at the meeting the other night. I wondered how you’d managed to get such a perfect accent.’
    â€˜Yes, I was born in Baku, actually. English parents – my father was an oil engineer. I left Russia when I was ten, but I went to school in Baku for a bit.’
    â€˜Not a very salubrious spot.’
    â€˜No, oil towns never are. It was handy for the Crimea and the Caucasus, though, and I developed a liking for the country that I’ve never lost. Did you ever happen to take a long sleigh ride over those steppes you were talking about?’
    â€˜That’s something I missed, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜It’s a wonderful way of getting about. Bumpy over the ridges, but when you get a smooth stretch it’s like floating on a cloud.’
    He smiled – his charm was quite disconcerting. Of course, if he’d been born in Russia that might easily account for his current ‘fellow-travelling,’ though he wasn’t a man I’d have suspected of sentiment. There was one thing about Bolting – he didn’t obtrude his political views on every possible occasion, as Mullett did.
    Presently Schofield joined us. He looked, for once, less like a cold fish than a fish out of water. ‘Regrettable institutions, these parties,’ he said, with a nod to me. ‘Don’t you think so, Bolting? Noise is a poor