Ruth stepped out of the black Audi and shut the door. She approached the door of Harry's club tentatively. She'd never been inside this place or anything like it.

"Miss Evershed? Mr. Pearce is expecting you in the dining room," said a doorman. He approached her and held and umbrella over her head. It was starting to rain.

Ruth followed the man into the lobby of the club. She deposited her coat and briefcase in a cloak room. The head waiter, an ancient man wearing a sagging tuxedo, led her to the dining room. She kept looking around to make sure Barmy Fatheringay Phipps wasn't going to throw a bun at her. Harry and Oliver Mace were sitting together at a small table. Seeing her approach, the men stood up.

"I'll leave you to it, then Harry," Mace said with a wink. "Miss Evershed, if you'll excuse me." He nodded to her and retreated quickly across the dining room back to the bar. Ruth noticed that he could still see their table.

Harry smiled and whispered to her, "thanks for doing this. You're a star. I knew I could count on you."

She felt flushed as he spoke to her. She always did whenever he had something to say that was just for her.

He pulled out her chair and took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. Ruth felt her knees wobble a bit. She was relieved to be able to sit.

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?" she said through smiling gritted teeth.

"There's such a thing as having your cake and eating it too. You should try it sometime."

Ruth was dumbfounded. Did he consider this, in some small way, a real date?

"I'll save my cake for pudding" she said trying to flirt. What the hell was that, Evershed? She thought. Just do like your mum told you and be yourself. Wait. Was this a date? Should she be giving herself a first-date pep talk?

Harry handed her a menu. She wondered whether she should pull out all the stops for Mace's benefit-the cold lobster salad and champagne. Her eyes rested on the raised pork pie. That would really hit the spot. Cold lobster on a rainy day didn't really appeal other than in the glamor department.

Harry studied his menu. He was longing for the ploughman's but he didn't want Ruth to think she couldn't order big. He started to steel himself for the inevitable lobster salad. He hoped it wouldn't be rubbery. He hated when the lobster was rubbery.

The waiter approached. "I'll have the pork pie," she said, "and a glass of port. Harry could you recommend a port?"

Harry beamed at her with real affection. He loved to be asked about booze. It was one of his favorite topics. If she was getting the pork pie, he could get the ploughman's.

"Graham's is nice, I always think," he said and the waiter nodded.

After asking about the cheese, which the waiter assured him was a genuine Cotswold, Harry ordered his ploughman's and a pint of bitter.

"How did you get on in Shoreditch?" he asked.

"I think I made out rather well. Got her to admit that Callas was her pimp. Even got the first names of the other girls in his ring."

"Good, girl. "

"Harry, there's something I wanted to bring up with you; a matter of policy. It appears Special Branch made a scene of the arrest. The girl knew that Callas wasn't taken to the same station. It made her suspicious. I offered her my phone number and promised to look into it."

"It gets better and better. You clearly have a knack for field work, Ruth."

"What do I say if she rings me?"

"You stall, but you try to get her talking about Callas. Find out whatever you can about him. I'll talk to Special Branch about their methods. It's a miracle you got anything out of her at all after that blunder. "

"If I may ask, what have you been up to with, Oliver Mace?"

"Oh, I had a little chat with Mr. Mace about that phony file he tried to palm off on us. I knew Albert Callas' face looked familiar. Ruth, he's an asset. It was years ago, but I'm sure I remember being in a couple meetings with the man. "

"What did Mace say?"

"Oh he denied, blustered, 'you surely can't expect me to keep track of every bloody file in MI-6'," Harry said doing a reasonable impression of his colleague.

"What should we do?" Ruth asked.

"We? I was rather hoping you could sort this out. Any ideas?"

"Well, there's the GCHQ crypt. I haven't been down there in a while, but I'm on a first name basis with the crypt keeper?"

"The crypt?"

"That's what we call the duplicate personel files department. There is a back-up hard copy of all the files. If Callas was on the payroll, he'll be in the crypt."

"No slime trail back to us. Think you can manage that."

"I think I can manage."

"Now about this crypt keeper, how well do you know him?" Harry said with a touch of jocularity.

"Oh we go way back. "

"An ex?" Harry said with a flash of jealousy.

"More of a paramour," Ruth said, teasing. "I don't really do exclusive relationships," she said, playing the Mata Hari to the hilt.

Realizing she was teasing, Harry smiled. "Where do I come in then?"

Ruth was uncertain how to answer. He was joking, she was sure, but he might also want to know how she felt about him.

"A friend with potential."

"I like the sound of that," he said.

"And what about me? " she asked taking a big swig of port to help with the bravery.

"Would you care for some pudding? Cake perhaps?"

"Harry, don't change the subject. I gave you an honest answer. I expect one from you and all."

"You've discovered the key to interrogation, Ruth. Give and take. To break someone you need to figure out their deepest desire and convince them that only you can give it to them. "

"And what is your deepest desire?" she asked feeling a little giddy.

"Oh, no. It doesn't work like that. You have to sus me out. Then convince me that you're doing me a favor by wringing this information out of me. "

"What if I think I already know what your deepest desire is?"

"Then you should dangle some bait and see if I take it."

"I will tell you where I went last week, all dressed up, with lipstick, after work?"

"What business is that of mine where you go with your lipstick in off hours?" he asked, but she could tell he was dying to know.

"Because that cab I got in after work that night was one of your spook taxis. Not a coincidence. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Oh course, I knew you'd notice. I was just looking out for you. You can't be too careful."

"And you can't trust someone to have a private life without betraying you."

"It's not like that at all, Ruth. At the end of the day, I'm a bloke. I'm not some knight in shining armor. I am also a bloke who access to every conceivable kind of information."

"So you did spy on me? I'm sure you know then that I was meeting a man."

He was quiet and his face began to burn.

"I didn't know. But thank you for coming clean. Are you going to need any vetting services?" he asked bitterly.

"No. I don't plan on seeing him again. It was just a casual thing," she said, recalling Gina's words from earlier in the day.

She had taken the game too far. He was wounded. He turned away and looked out the window. She could see he was hurt and the fact that he was hurt meant that he hadn't checked where she was going, only that she had arrived safely.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't meet a man that night. I met my friend Susan, who dragged me to this miserable speed dating night. I didn't meet anyone nice. I came home early. Susan drove me. "

Harry didn't speak. He just kept looking out the window. Ruth grew desperate to make him talk.

"Don't do this Harry. I was teasing. Just playing along. Having my cake etc."

"It's alright Ruth. You've just discovered another truth about interrogation. It's a sordid business. No one gets out of it with a clean conscience. "

Ruth reached out and placed her hand tentatively on Harry's. The gesture reminded her of her encounter with Gina earlier in the day. She had wanted to be interrogated by Harry Pearce. She'd fantasized about it for weeks. Now it had happened and she'd even bested him, but she felt miserable.

Harry shifted his gaze from the window to her eyes. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and motioned to the waiter, to bring the bill for him to sign.

"Back to work, then?" Ruth said, relieved that things appeared to be returning to normal.

"For me, yes. For you, my star spook, I have another assignment."

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