by John Gardner
When the butler and maid had retired – Caspar and Phoebe still maintained a staff of two, though they knew it would only be a matter of time before that would also change – Naldo coughed apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Caspar’ – they had dispensed with the ‘uncle’ some years ago – ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve misled you. I’m really here on business.’
Caspar groaned and Naldo repeated his apology. ‘It really is essential, and it’s on C’s orders. He’s asked me to say that this is highly sensitive. Not to be repeated in the office, if you follow.’
Caspar nodded. ‘If it’s C then I absolve you from all blame, Naldo. What’s on the old man’s mind – and why couldn’t he ask me himself?’
‘Better from someone in the family, I think. I’ve got to talk about your brother, Ramillies, I’m afraid.’
‘The Rammer? Oh, shit!’
‘Why do you call him the Rammer?’
‘Why? Oh, schooldays – the twins were younger than I. I mean Ramillies is much younger. Can’t get used to him being alive. Schoolboy thing, though. Rupert was known as the Rupe, Ramillies as the Rammer. Oh?’ He suddenly saw the point of Naldo’s question. ‘“Rammer,” yes. No, sorry – it didn’t have any sexual connotations.’
‘I need to have all your memories of him.’ Naldo felt uncommonly embarrassed. ‘Everything.’
Caspar thought for a while. ‘To be honest with you, I didn’t like him. Terrible thing to say about one’s own brother, but he gave me the creeps.’
‘As a child, or…?’
‘Oh, later on. Hardly noticed him as a child. I was closer to your father – to James. We were more of an age. But later, when Ramillies was working with Grandfather Giles, I saw him off and on. You know I was the old C’s Chief-of-Staff through most of the First War?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ramillies used to come and see him now and again. Particularly just before he went off to Russia. He was in three or four times a week. Silent, creepy, made my flesh – well, you know.’
Naldo nodded. ‘Any particular reason?’
‘Nothing I could swear to. He was just – well, sinister.’
‘As a boy, an adolescent, any sexual leanings?’
‘You mean was he queer?’
There was a pause through which Naldo counted fifteen and watched the light sparkling off the Georgian silver on the table.
‘I can’t swear to it,’ Caspar blurted, as though the whole business was unpleasant. ‘There were tales from the old school. I know that for sure. But I don’t know how serious it was. You know exactly what I mean, Nald. Lord love us, there’s always a bit of buggery – sodomy, call it what you will – going on at school. Part of life’s rich pattern in the old days – buggery, bullying, and birching. Heard of a fellow the other day – fellow in public life: well-known – goes to whores to be flogged. Admitted it in the club. Said he’d got so used to it at school that he couldn’t do without it. I suppose that happens to buggers, queers, as well. They’re the few percent who go on with it; can’t get it off with a woman.’
‘And you suspect Ramillies of being like that?’
Caspar sighed. ‘Not nice – even after what he’s done.’ He swallowed, then put his lips together hard, as though willing them not to open. After a moment he said, ‘Yes, Naldo. Yes. Got to say it, I believe my younger brother indulged in sodomy.’
‘Sorry to press you, Cas. Any hard evidence? Do you just base it on schoolboy stories and your observation of him, or…?’
‘Never had any interest in women. Not ever. Ramillies was a first-rate and dedicated watcher. When we had family gatherings at Redhill he always knew where everyone was at any time of the day. There was one incident…’ Once more he was trying to close it out.
‘It’s okay, Caspar. If you can just – ’
‘I know we had some people over one Christmas. During the First War. I was in my wheelchair then and old Phoeb was my nurse. These people were neighbours. Two daughters, one of ’em a bit flighty. Took a fancy to Ramillies. Phoeb told me later she found the girl in tears. She’d made a fool of herself. Tried to make up to the Rammer and he’d pushed her away in disgust. I wondered then. Next day I saw him with one of the men who came up to help on the farm – older man, invalided out of the Army. Well-known queer in Haversage – what in the country we used to call a “brown hatter.” Well, I saw ’em together. Saw the way Ram was lookin’ at him…’ Acutely embarrassed, Caspar came to a full stop.
‘Apart from that subject – let’s get off that – was there anything else?’
Caspar sipped at his port, then drained his glass, quickly reaching for the decanter. ‘What’s it all about?’ he asked, looking flushed and solemn.
‘Sorry. It’s serious, Caspar. Serious and secret as the grave. The less you know, the better. Also, we’ve never discussed this, if you follow me.’ He stopped for a moment for Caspar to incline his head, acknowledging that he understood. ‘Now, anything else?’ Naldo asked.
‘Oh, God. Sly; too clever for his own good; secretive. We all are of course, but Ramillies was different. Yes, I knew he’d make a bloody good agent. Even as a child he always knew what we were all doing. Add that lot together and throw in the other business, and you have him. If I’d known C – old Mansfield Cumming – was sending him into Russia, I’d have advised against it. Enough?’
Naldo nodded. ‘Quite enough. You heard the one about the deb who became a Landgirl?’ He changed the subject, taking them into the area men were supposed to inhabit once the ladies had withdrawn.
The rest of the evening went well, but Naldo was preoccupied in the cab on the way home. Barbara tried to talk, but he wasn’t his usual self.
‘You want me to stay tonight, Nald, darling?’ she asked as they neared the house.
He looked at her and she thought she could detect pain deep in his eyes. ‘More than ever,’ he told her quietly and she smiled. ‘I hope we get the nuptials over soon. This is no way for lovers to carry on.’
Like Arnie, Naldo had dropped his guard. He did not notice the dark Humber in their wake, not the manner in which it pulled up for a second to let its passenger out, nor the way the passenger passed by in the shadows as they entered the house together.
*
‘Homosexual according to Caspar,’ Naldo said, and C sat bolt upright in his chair.
There were just the three of them, Naldo, Arnold, and C, together in the Northolt house.
‘Well, there’s a pretty thing, a very pretty thing.’ C was smiling pleasantly. ‘As I recall it, Ivan’s hot as mustard on sods and buggers.’
Naldo winced. He had always held to the opinion that homosexuality – though he did not understand it – was best left alone.
‘They’re certainly a good deal hotter than us,’ C continued. ‘High-ranking NKVD officer’d be in for the chop if that became public. Now, the only thing left is young Kruger’s sexual education. I wonder if he knows about that side of the birds and bees?’
‘Oh, I should imagine he knows more’n you or I, sir.’ – From Arnold. ‘Don’t forget how he lived before I took him under my wing. Kids on the loose in Berlin when Ivan first arrived learned pretty near everything. Saw the lot as well – murder, rape, pillage, and doubtless a bit of sodomy on the side.’
‘Best give him a short course, though.’ C grinned like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. ‘Good news, Naldo. Those sort rarely change, and, from my experience, they can’t go too long without it. I wonder if Herb and his Helene could mount a real Beartrap?’ He paused as a car went past outside. For a second they all thought it was slowing down to stop. But it went on its way and C continued. ‘You know, I’m worried about Kruger. Should we really turn a blind eye to his sexual life? I mean, he’s only sixteen.’
‘I guess it’s too late to change it now, sir.’ Arnold hid his smile, then asked what was happening about Herbie.
‘Happening? Nothing’s happening!’ C snapped tartly. ‘We’re just giving him some further education.’
‘If you’re educating him in Honeytraps and Beartraps, then you’re assisting to corrupt his morals, sir.’ Arnold smiled in plain sight this time.
C grunted and said, yes, he supposed Arnold was right.
*
Two days later they all went down to the big house, in its several acres of ground, near the garrison town of Warminster, in Wiltshire. They moved independently, Arnold going by rail, Naldo by car. Nobody asked how C got there, but he stressed the security. Arnold and Naldo went through all the rituals and were certain that neither trailed a tail with him.
Herbie looked very fit and was flush with new knowledge – ‘They teach me wonderful things,’ he told Naldo and Arnie as they walked in the grounds, shielded from roads by old walls and trees. ‘I learn of photographs that can be made in secret with very small cameras; and also how to steal voices onto wire. Many things. It is full of interest – here, in Kent, Hampshire, and London. Many devious things I learn.’
‘It’s full of danger as well, Herb. You know that?’ Naldo asked.
‘I tell you a long time ago. All life is dangerous.’ Herbie treated them to a big grin. ‘I have discovered some new Mahler music that is recorded – Kindertotenlieder. That is “Songs on the Death of Children.” Sad, but enthralling. Listen to the songs and you know all life is a danger.’ He coughed loudly, looking much older than his years – more mature, strangely full of wisdom. He began to recite a verse from a poem in German – Naldo and Arnold translating it in their heads easily, for Herbie Kruger spoke slowly and with a deep emotion, once more a puzzling thing for a lad of his age. It was one of Mahler’s Songs on the Death of Children:
‘How often I think they’re just out walking;
They won’t be much longer, they’ll soon be returning.
The day is fine, O never fear!
They’re only taking the long way back.
They’ve only started out before us
And won’t come back home at all!
We’ll soon overtake them, up on the hills,
In the sunshine! The day is fine upon the hills!’
Naldo could have sworn he saw tears in Kruger’s eyes, and Arnold was strangely silent.
They all lunched together, with a guard on the door and the food brought in on a trolley and left for them to help themselves.
C talked, giving a long and detailed description of what he required, stopping every now and then to query if Herbie understood. This was the start of a briefing that would go on all day, and when it was over Herbie spoke – quietly and with great confidence.
‘How much time will I have for this?’ he asked at one point.
‘Not long, I’m afraid.’ C’s voice was full of concern. ‘From the moment you go back in you’ll have around four weeks.’
‘Ah?’ Herbie shifted his large body in the chair. ‘Alone I must recruit, survey the target, and set it up in one month?’
‘We daren’t make it much longer.’ C’s face took on the demeanour of his voice. ‘The time schedule is going to be very tight.’
Naldo Railton leaned forward, eyes locking with Kruger. ‘Herbie, time is something we’re going to be short of on this one. Look, if you’ve any serious doubts that you can’t at least give it a good try, then tell us now.’
C shot Railton a daggerlike look, then softened. ‘I suppose, yes,’ he muttered grudgingly. ‘Better to know now.’
‘How long before I go?’ Herbie’s head moved slowly, his eyes gazing in turn at each of the three faces.
‘A week. Ten days. We have things to set up as well.’ – from C.
Herbie paused, but he did not seem to be making a decision. ‘I give it my best shot,’ he said, and the large face split into a massive grin. ‘I do it, don’t have worries.’
‘We’ll need to go through this very carefully, sir.’ Naldo was concerned. Very concerned. The Beartrap was complex and required a lot of people on the ground. In the furthest reaches of his heart, he thought Herbie was too innocent, too inexperienced, to carry it off. The boy knew nothing about agent-handling in the field; nothing about trawling for likely agents; nothing about auditioning them, let alone coordinating the whole thing. The timing had to be perfect. The whole little network must be unbreakable. ‘Look, why not let me go into the Ivans’ zone and have a go at it.’
‘You said yourself that you’d last a week at the most.’ C was quite sharp in manner. ‘At least Kruger’s got good cover, and the Ivans won’t suspect him of devious complexities like this. You, Naldo, will go in for the one night. One night, see the last act through, and do the business. Like I said over lunch, you will scatter Kruger’s team afterwards. If necessary you’ll get rid of any weak links.’ He turned to Arnie. ‘And you know what I want from you and yours, Farthing.’
‘They’ll want something in return.’
‘Oh, I know that. We’ll do a deal. Tell your real masters that – and we’ll cut them in on the product, if there is any product from the sodomite Railton.’
‘This all come under Symphony?’ Naldo asked.
‘Symphony’s the mother of it all.’ C turned sharply to Farthing, ‘And Symphony’s still our operation. No blabbing to your Agency about that.’
‘Don’t worry, sir. Not a word.’
‘This op?’ Naldo forced the subject again. ‘Symphony?’
‘No, we’ll give it a different crypto.’ C smiled pleasantly. ‘Let’s call it Brimstone – didn’t the Lord rain fire and brimstone upon Sodom?’ He paused before adding, ‘And Gomorrah? Book of Genesis, wasn’t it?’
They returned to London, each by his separate route. Naldo and Arnie got back to the Kensington house within an hour of each other. Neither saw the watchers in the shadows, who stood silent, as though waiting for them.
*
‘They want a safe house in our zone. Unused by anyone else. New unlisted number. Their technicians’ll service it.’ Arnold leaned over the Thames Embankment. To his right the statue of Boadicea in her chariot stood harsh on the corner of Westminster Bridge. Across the road the Palace of Westminster rose in all its wonder, the slender tower that was Big Ben pointing its finger at the evening sky.
‘Sure that’s all they want? A measly safe house in Berlin?’ Fry grunted.
‘They’ll give something in return.’
‘Bet your ass they will.’ Fry’s hand went to his mouth and he coughed hard three or four times. His slender body struggled under the strain. ‘This country’s too damned damp for me. Even in summer.’
‘Do they get it?’
‘Sure. A safe house is easy. And they pay. Jim Fishman’s on a new track. Screwtape’s still clean as fresh sheets. He wants to talk to the German – Buelow. The guy who fingered Screwtape.’
‘They’re not going to be happy if I ask for that.’
‘Why not? We’ve had legal access to the Tarot Enquiry file. Not the stuff you’ve told us about. Just the transcript of the Enquiry.’
‘I’d prefer it if someone else asked.’
Fry shrugged. ‘We’ll do it through one of the boys in the Embassy. You say there’s a fee, and the Embassy’ll request something. No need to let them see you know the price. We get Buelow. They get the safe house. How long they want it for?’
‘Month, six weeks. Clean with nobody watching.’
‘Okay.’
‘Why does Fishman want Buelow?’
‘He’s going to pull in Tert Newton. Go over his story again. The Enquiry shot it full of holes. He wants to put them up against one another. See if there’s been any disinformation. Any product comes straight back to the Brits, okay?’
‘What’s happened to Newton?’ Arnie detected deception behind Fry’s calculated manner.
‘Oh, didn’t you know? When the Brits finished drying him out, he went back to the States and applied for a new job. Got it. Washington. He’s a security officer at the Atomic Energy Commission’s Headquarters. Sensitive, huh?’ Fry gave a bleak smile, his eyes like pebbles in a frost.
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‘It’s like a fucking Chinese box…’
‘Or a Matrioschka doll, Arnold.’
There was an unfriendly silence before Arnie replied, ‘I’ll just give them word on the house. The Embassy can do the rest.’
Fry nodded. ‘What’s going on, Arnie?’
‘When it’s done I’ll tell you. Best you shouldn’t know yet.’ Fry shrugged again as though he didn’t care one way or another.
On the following day C announced that he had done the deal regarding the American safe house in Berlin.
*
Naldo became aware of the watchers only two days before the final briefing for Brimstone. He spoke to C and Arnie. On the morning they left Kensington for the last briefing and the journey to Berlin, the two men let themselves out of the house within ten minutes of each other, both apparently heading for different destinations.
They spent two hours throwing the surveillance, and in that time Special Branch officers had the watchers in their sights. Losing their targets seemed to create some panic among the men who had watched Railton and Farthing. The lead watcher in each team made a fast telephone call from a public box. They were all still under Special Branch surveillance that night, and by then Naldo, Arnold, C, and Herbie Kruger were gathered together in the big house outside Warminster.
Brimstone was about to start running.
Chapter Twenty-one
It took three days to start up Brimstone. Arnold went out first, flying into Tempelhof airfield, the main base in the American Sector of Berlin. Naldo and Herbie went out on day two, traveling in a Dakota into the RAF base at Gatow in the British Zone. They all travelled under work names, and with papers to match. Later, in the safe house within the British Sector, they gave Herbie his complete sets of papers – the same ones he had used during his previous trips into the Russian Zone.
