by Henry Porter
‘Good, we’ll talk later.’ Harland paused. ‘Oh, Tudor, that was good thinking with the suitcase. Well done.’
They stopped at a grocery store. Rosenharte walked across the road to a payphone and dialled the number in West Berlin he had been given by the Stasi. A woman answered, and after a few seconds he was put through to Biermeier, who expressed himself satisfied. He said there wouldn’t be a problem finding them in the Tiergarten. His men would follow and wait for half an hour - they could see Rosenharte now, as he was making the call.
Less than ten minutes later, Tudor dropped them on the Grosse Weg, the road that meanders through the park, and they took a secluded path to a large, irregular lake known as the Neuer See. Rosenharte was carrying his bag, so they kept the conversation to a minimum until they found a spot beneath some beech trees overlooking the lake.
He perched on a rough wooden bench, opened the bottle of wine and filled two paper cups. She crouched nearby and expertly set about slitting bread rolls and filling them with ham and cheese. ‘You’re good at that,’ he said. ‘I like to eat in the open, too. I do a lot of this when I’m out walking.’
‘Yes, you always liked to walk. Some day we should go to the Alps in spring or the Pyrenees.’
Rosenharte caught sight of a yellow bird flitting in some saplings about thirty feet away. ‘It’s a young bird,’ he said. ‘This year’s young bird - eine Grasmücke. I think you call it a werbler. Something like this.’
‘A warbler!’
They smiled.
He handed her a cup of wine. ‘You know, I have never seen a Stieglitz - in English it is called a goldfinch. There is an exceptional painting of the bird in the Mauritshuis - a tiny bird chained by a ring around its leg to a perch. It’s a beautiful but very sad painting. Captivity.’ He thought of Konrad.
‘I don’t remember you telling me that you had been to The Hague,’ she said.
‘I didn’t tell you,’ he said. ‘I took the train one day from Brussels. It’s not so far. Maybe a two-hour journey. That museum has one of the greatest collections in the world. I will go again one day.’
‘I hope you do,’ she said. Her eyes had moved to the path behind them. Rosenharte turned to see three men approaching them. He got up when they were twenty yards away and called out. ‘Can we help you?’
‘We were sent by Biermeier,’ said the one in a fawn mackintosh. ‘Miss Schering, it is a pleasure to meet you. An honour.’ The man had a studious air about him. He took off his spectacles, held them up to the light and then cleaned them vigorously with a white cloth. Rosenharte examined the other two. In their double-breasted business suits and loud ties, they were indistinguishable from West Berliners. He assumed they were armed.
Jessie placed the paper cup on the bench beside her but did not get up or take the hand that he had offered. ‘I have asked to see you because I’m not satisfied with the way you’re treating me.’ Her German was perfect and there was no mistaking the flinty edge to it.
‘Fleischhauer. My name is Fleischhauer,’ said the man in the mackintosh, returning his hand to his pocket. ‘May I?’ He sat down beside her. ‘We don’t want everyone in the Tiergarten to hear this, do we? I’m sure we can settle any problems you have.’
‘I have given you so much over the years,’ said Jessie exasperatedly, ‘and yet I learn you are making inquiries about me. Two weeks ago, a friend of mine from Canada called to say there had been a man snooping about in my past, trying to dig up things. Only the Stasi, it would seem, treats one of its most loyal informers like this. I can’t walk down the street in Brussels without being followed, and last night at Tempelhof your men were swarming all over the place. I saw them. It was fortunate the American didn’t notice.’
‘Who was he?’ said Fleischhauer with interest.
A wind came and sent a little shimmer across the water and blew the beech leaves of the previous winter into eddies. Jessie brushed the hair from her face. There was no mistaking her anger. Rosenharte was full of admiration for her performance. ‘He’s something to do with military intelligence. He recognized me from Nato headquarters. His name is Colonel Nathan Barrett. But he could be something else for all I know. Your men were about to approach me when he saw me. What the hell were they doing? A few seconds later and I would have been in trouble, this whole operation would have been blown.’ She stopped. ‘I take it that you have examined the material I gave Dr Rosenharte in Italy. You understand its importance?’
Fleischhauer nodded. ‘It’s useful, as far as we can tell.’
‘Useful! Is that all you have to say? Do you people understand what’s going on? Have you any notion of the technological revolution in the West? You’re being left behind.’
Fleischhauer removed his glasses again to deal with one final smear. ‘We have a good idea of certain advances.’
She shook her head. ‘I doubt it. In March, two scientists working at CERN in Switzerland produced a paper. They have not published it yet, but they propose a way of managing information in a network of computers, a way of keeping track of the vast flows of data that is generated at CERN. You see, the problem they faced was the constant turnover of staff and the resultant loss of knowledge.’
‘We know of that problem in our organization,’ said Fleischhauer pleasantly. He didn’t seem especially interested.
‘Exactly! Information is not leaked, but it is lost. It haemorrhages or evaporates when people die or leave or are assigned to other duties. What these two scientists suggest is a way of pooling the information so that everyone in the organization has access to it.’ She was warming to her theme. ‘The two scientists call it a web. I’ve got you a copy of a Nato paper on this, which draws heavily on their work. You should read it because we’re on a threshold of a revolution.’
‘We know about these things already.’
‘The very fact that you dismiss what I’m saying means you don’t have the first idea about them.’ Jessie picked up her cup and threw back the remains of the wine.
‘Fraulein Schering.’ Fleischhauer folded his arms and leaned forward. ‘Since 1969 we have known about such networks - the Advanced Research Projects Agency Network. This is being closed down by the US military right now. ARPANet does not even have funding. If you say these networks are so important why would the US military abandon them?’
‘Because they’re idiots. Remember that Nato is in Europe. It’s not the prisoner of US military thinking. The people I work with realize the importance of networks, and they understand CERN’s information management problems are minute compared to Nato’s. Just think of the advantages of an internal network with an ability to connect people who need each other’s information. It’ll transform the military planning of the West. The Warsaw Pact countries will be left in the dust.’
‘Don’t be so sure about that,’ said Fleischhauer.
She got up. ‘Well, if you’re not interested, there’s really no point in continuing this conversation. We can all go home.’
‘I didn’t say we weren’t interested. It’s just—’
‘It’s just that you don’t want to admit to me how far behind you are. Look, I understand that. But that’s why I’m here. I am a pacifist and the only way to ensure peace between East and West is to make certain that your side keeps pace with ours.’
‘We understand that, Miss Schering.’ He glanced in Rosenharte’s direction. Plainly he did not want to be having this conversation in front of him. ‘My government would like to arrange a full briefing by you in the GDR. If you will come with us now, we can have you back in West Berlin by tomorrow afternoon without anyone knowing.’
She stared down at him. ‘And lose my bargaining position over Rudi’s brother? I’m a pacifist, Herr Fleischhauer, but I’m not a bloody fool. I want Rudi’s brother released and until that happens I will limit my cooperation.’
‘These arrangements are already in hand. Anyway, spending a day in the East talking to people who appreciate all that you have done doesn�
��t make your position any weaker, surely?’
This was Rosenharte’s cue. ‘I saw Konrad in the prison hospital at Hohenschönhausen less than six hours ago. There was no preparation for his departure.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Fleischhauer, looking into Jessie’s eyes. ‘Your friend cannot possibly be acquainted with all the ministry’s intentions.’
‘I saw the minister himself last night with General Schwarzmeer,’ said Rosenharte. ‘Nothing certain was agreed about Konrad.’
‘And Konrad’s family?’ asked Annalise. ‘Why were they arrested? You took the children too, I understand.’
‘They have already been released and are on their way home at this very moment. We keep our word, Miss Schering.’ He swung round to Rosenharte. ‘Tell her, Rosenharte. Tell her about your arrangement to call Else this evening.’
Rosenharte nodded. ‘It’s true.’
‘Still, there’s no need for me to go to the East,’ said Jessie with a reasonable smile. ‘I am telling you everything I know. If your technicians need a briefing, I’m not the right person. While I grasp the implications of these innovations, the technological aspects are beyond me.’ She delved into the bag, then flourished a sheaf of paper. ‘I have this for you. It’s the paper I mentioned, plus a diagram of the network. This has all the information you need about Nato’s proposed non-linear text system. It originates from a man named Berners-Lee at CERN and is known as hypertext. The paper is called “The Hypertext Revolution in Information Management at Nato”. It couldn’t be more secret. If you know how the information is managed you know how to read the information.’
Rosenharte caught a glimpse of an elaborate diagram before Fleischhauer slipped the document inside his raincoat. ‘This is not a good place for passing such information. We should go to a safe house.’
‘Look, to be quite honest,’ she said, breaking into English, ‘I want to spend as much time as I can with Rudi. That’s why I came to Berlin. There’s a package in my bag. It contains six floppy disks with a third of the source code for the proposed Nato network. When Rudi returns to the East he will bring six more disks.’
Fleischhauer hesitated, and in that look Rosenharte saw the essence of GDR’s secret officialdom - the cunning, the greed and brutality, but also the fear. Fleischhauer was plainly under orders to convey Annalise back to the GDR, but she had been smart enough to bring only a portion of the secrets with her. A third of the disks were in her bag, a third were presumably in her hotel and the last third were in Brussels. Fleischhauer could probably guarantee to retrieve those that were in the hotel, but now he had to calculate whether to remove her forcibly to the East and risk losing the final delivery of disks, or leave her in the West and so earn the considerable displeasure of his masters. Rosenharte was pretty certain which way Fleischhauer had come down.
‘This arrangement is surely agreeable to you?’ said Rosenharte.
‘This arrangement is nothing to do with you,’ said Fleischhauer, not bothering to hide his irritation. ‘What you know about, Dr Rosenharte, are pictures and little birds in the woods. So please leave us to discuss this matter . . . in fact I suggest that it will help your brother’s situation if you keep silent in these negotiations.’
Rosenharte grinned. ‘There’s surely no need to pull rank here. We’re in the West. Let’s have a drink for God’s sake.’
Jessie looked at Fleischhauer. ‘You mention Rudi’s interest in ornithology: little birds. How would you know that if you weren’t listening to our conversation before you arrived? You’ve got us bugged, haven’t you? Rudi, are you wired with a microphone?’
Rosenharte opened his arms, then patted himself all over and made much of emptying his pockets out.
‘Then it must be in your case,’ she said with fierce indignation. She picked it up and tossed it twenty feet away, then turned to Fleischhauer. ‘If this is the way you treat me, I can hardly accept your invitation to the East. Have you any sense of the risks I’ve taken for the GDR? Have I ever asked for money? In nearly fifteen years, what did I demand of the GDR? I’ll tell you - nothing. And this is how you repay me.’ She was trembling with indignation.
Fleischhauer was unmoved. ‘As you say, these are important matters. And what you are doing for us now could be of the utmost importance to the state. That is why we must take all precautions: maybe it explains our haste and lack of gratitude. But deep down, you know that the state, the ministry and the first secretary himself appreciate your devotion and loyalty. That is one reason why they want to see you in person. You have never been to the East? You should come.’
‘Let’s drink to that,’ said Rosenharte, seizing the tube of paper cups and prising three from the top. He lined them up precariously along the edge of the seat, together with his and Jessie’s cups. Then he seemed to think better of it and handed two to each of Fleischhauer’s heavies and began to pour the wine, making a great song and dance about the bouquet of the modest red that Jessie had bought at the mini market. When the cups were filled he made a bow, bent down to his own cup and set the bottle down, all of which caused Fleischhauer to stare with irritation at a distant part of the lake.
Fleischhauer had a schedule to meet; Fleischhauer was wondering how long he was going to have to put up with Rosenharte bleating about his damned brother. Rosenharte understood that. Rosenharte knew Fleischhauer inside out. He stepped back, chucked a wild look of pleasure at Jessie and prepared to make his toast. ‘Hey, come on boys, hand the drinks around.’ He could see that the two men felt a little silly, but the one nearest to him leaned forward to give his boss a drink. At this, Rosenharte dropped his own cup and plunged his hand into the man’s left-hand jacket pocket where he had seen the weight lying and pulled out a compact handgun. He flourished the gun, before pointing it at the other man, who was reaching to the back of his waistband.
‘No,’ he said, wagging his finger at him. ‘Put your hand in your trouser pocket.’ He paused, and examined the gun. ‘Now, what are you doing with this? The PSM - the Pistolet Samozaryadnya Malogabaritniy - the handgun of choice for the quiet assassin. This little Russian devil, I seem to remember from the Stasi firearms course, uses a bottleneck cartridge that will penetrate something like fifty layers of Kevlar. Isn’t that right? The shell was designed by a woman called Denisova.’ He turned to Fleischhauer. ‘You see, it’s not just old masters and little birds that Rudi Rosenharte knows about. He knows that the magazine release is in the butt and that the safety catch is let into the side and can only be operated from the rear.’ He demonstrated. ‘He knows about this nasty fellow, though he would prefer not to. What are you doing here with this thing? You’re talking to a friend, a hero of the state - not some criminal element pushing drugs in Prenzlauer Berg! This woman has risked her life for a decade and a half and you have the gall to come here with weapons and threaten her.’
‘It’s obvious to any sane mind that we were not threatening her,’ said Fleischhauer, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘We were issuing an invitation.’
Rosenharte demanded the second man’s gun and threw it into the lake, then told him to pick up the suitcase and hand it to Fleischhauer. ‘Working on the assumption that you have bugged this case, I am going to ask you to hold it up while I speak to Biermeier.’ Jessie’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
‘Biermeier, are you hearing me? Good. I’m sending Fleischhauer back with the first delivery. I will bring the second instalment tomorrow, as long as I find Else and the kids safely at home when I call this evening. The third delivery will be made when Konrad is free and receiving treatment. I will call you by telephone to make sure you got this message, but in the meantime I’m going to send these idiots back to you. Annalise is prepared to forget the whole matter as long as we are left in peace for the next twenty-four hours.’ He paused and turned to Jessie. ‘Would you like to speak to Colonel Biermeier?’
‘No, I think you’ve said everything,’ she said.
‘Then why don’t you put the
disks in the case, my darling, and these gentlemen can go home.’
Fleischhauer unzipped the top slightly and Jessie gave him the package. ‘I hope you possess the hardware to run these,’ she said.
‘Be sure that we have,’ said Fleischhauer.
‘Now, be off with you,’ said Rosenharte. ‘Otherwise I’ll start firing these bottleneck rounds in your direction.’
They watched them go.
‘That’s a high-risk strategy you’re following there, Rudi.’
‘Yes, but if they had forced us into a car and driven us over the border, we’d both be lost.’
‘It wouldn’t have come to that. They would have been intercepted by our side.’
‘And then where would I have been?’
‘I take your point. How did you know the gun was on his left side?’
He smiled. ‘Although these guns are very light, the pocket sagged a little. When he took the first cup with his left hand I knew it would be in that pocket.’ He handled the gun and examined the side of the barrel. ‘Perhaps one of your people could use this.’
‘We very rarely carry weapons,’ she said. ‘Look, they wouldn’t know what to do with it.’
‘I’ll dump it before we leave the Tiergarten.’
15
The Men from London
Later that afternoon, flanked by Robert Harland and the Bird, Rosenharte walked to another payphone on the street and dialled the number for Biermeier. A couple of minutes elapsed before he was put through. Biermeier seemed guarded. Rosenharte guessed there were others in the room with him - Schwarzmeer? Zank? The minister himself?
‘Did you get the message that I will be coming tomorrow with the complete set of new tyres?’
‘Yes, but we were wondering why you didn’t use the opportunity to complete the delivery today. Our representatives weren’t pleased.’
‘Your representatives frightened her. But, look, you have the material now and the delivery will be completed tomorrow as long as Else is home. Nothing has changed from this morning when I left to do this job. Nothing. I am completing the plan agreed by you.’
