by David Woods
“There’s still the question of proof?”
“True. But you could both spend a year in prison waiting for your case to come to court.”
This prospect alarmed Brian and he stared blankly down at his desk. Hawkins spoke softly. “Just think about it for a minute.”
After a couple of minutes Brian looked up from his desk. He sounded shaky. “What kind of job is it?”
“You’re about to deliver farm equipment to East Germany, are you not?”
“Yes, six standard forage harvesters.”
“The delivery address is in a sensitive military area.”
“Is it now?”
“Yes it is. We want you to deliver a package. And then collect it again when you return with more machines.”
“And if I get caught?”
“You’ll probably go to prison in East Germany.”
“Go to hell!”
“Don’t be so hasty, Mr. Wilkins. Remember it’ll only be you who goes to prison, not your wife. In any case we might be able to arrange an exchange.”
“This is blackmail.”
“Not really. You can face a police investigation if you like.”
“What happens if I don’t return with more machines? After all, they might not buy any more.”
“It’s your job to make sure they do.”
“What’s in the package?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“The machines will be ready next week.”
“Which day next week?”
“Wednesday.”
“Good. I’ll return on Monday morning with final details. In the meantime you must arrange to stay overnight with your driver at the delivery address.”
“Very well, I suppose I’ve no choice.”
“Good, that gives you a clear week to make your arrangements.”
“What proof have I that you’ll keep your side of the deal?”
“None, I’m afraid you only have my word that you’ll never have to face an investigation into the stolen diamonds affair.”
“That’s no good, I want it in writing.”
“I’ll talk to my superiors, and report next week.”
“There’ll be no deal unless it’s in writing.”
“I’ll do my best, but remember this must be kept secret.”
“But I must tell the lorry driver something. He’ll be in danger as well.”
“Not if he knows nothing about it. Hawkins took a large piece of paper out of his case and placed it front of Brian. “Sign here.”
“What am I signing?”
“The Official Secrets Act.”
“Do I have to?”
“Most definitely, Hawkins wrote down his telephone number on a slip of paper. “If you have any problems, just ring me.”
“Right, I suppose I’ll see you next week then?”
“Yes Mr. Wilkins.” Hawkins left and Brian slumped in his office chair, depressed and angry. The moment he had dreaded so many times had come. He had been found out. He sat churning the matter over in his mind until well after the office staff had left, and was shaken out of his deep thoughts by his private telephone. It was Anna. “Are you coming home soon?”
Yes love, I’m just leaving.”
“Good, because dinner will be spoilt.”
When he arrived home, he parked and wearily trudged up to the flat, determined not to tell Anna about the problem. She took one look at him. “What is the matter? You look worried.”
“No, just tired and hungry.”
“Then why didn’t you come home earlier?”
“I got stuck with a client.”
“Never mind, just sit down and eat.” The meal was consumed in silence.
As they drank their tea, Brian looked up from staring into his cup and said softly, “I’ll have to go to Belgium next week.”
“Oh good! I will come with you.”
“Well, you can of course. But I’ll be going on to East Germany with those forage harvesters.”
Anna looked shocked. “Why do you have to go?”
“I want to demonstrate the machines and try to sell more to them.”
“But you have salesmen to do that job.”
Brian found it difficult to lie to her. They argued for a while and in the end Anna gave up and decided to stay in Kent. In the morning Brian rang Ben Van Hagen. “Ben, have you got a small lorry I could drive?”
“What do you want to drive for?”
“I want to deliver those machines to East Germany myself.”
“I’ve scheduled them for Wednesday on our smallest lorry, but with a good driver.”
“Could I drive instead?”
“No. But if you insist on going, I’ll come with you and drive.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’ll be pleased to get out of the office for a few days. Besides I’ve never been to East Germany.”
“Well, that’s very kind of you. I’ll make arrangements.” Brian made the many necessary arrangements and found the rest of the week dragged by slowly. Anna noticed how strained he looked and kept asking if he was all right. He always replied “I’m fine.”
Only once he said he was worried about the trip behind the Iron Curtain and Anna said “don’t go, then.”
“I feel I have to go first, so that I can see what it’s like myself before sending our salesmen.” She seemed to accept this explanation, but still felt uneasy.
On Monday morning Philip Hawkins arrived at the office at ten and Brian immediately said “I want your written assurance there’ll be no investigation before we continue.” Hawkins pulled a sheet of paper out of his case and handed it to him. Brian read it carefully. “It seems in order.”
Hawkins took it back. “You’ll have it as soon as the job is finished.”
“Ok. Now let’s get down to the details.”
Hawkins got out a map and indicated the route to be taken from East Berlin to the farm, which appeared to be in the middle of nowhere and about one hundred miles from Berlin. He looked straight into Brian’s eyes. “You do have a reliable driver?”
“Yes. He’s the boss of the haulage company.”
“What have you told him?”
“Nothing except the destination.”
“Good. What’s his name?”
“Ben Van Hagen.”
“I see. Why is he going?”
“He’s a friend of mine. And wants to get out of the office for a while.”
Hawkins just nodded, and produced a plan showing a set of buildings. “These are the farm buildings.”
“How did you obtain a plan of them?”
“Never mind. The important area is here.” He pointed out a large building on the edge of the complex of many different shapes and sizes. “This is the hostel where you’ll stay overnight.”
“Ok. What about the package?”
He picked up a briefcase. “This is it.” He opened it.
“What use is that?” Brian said as he peered inside the empty case.
Hawkins put his hand inside, pressed a button and then lifted out a hardboard false bottom, which revealed a brown paper package about twelve inches long, three inches wide and two inches deep. He looked into Brian’s eyes again and said firmly. “Do not, under any circumstances, open it.”
“I won’t.”
“Use the case for your paperwork. And only take the package out when you’re ready to leave it.”
“And when’ll that be?”
“The night you stay in that building.” He pointed to the area again. You must put the package in a chicken meal bin in this building.” He pointed out a small shed four hundred yards away from the hostel.
“How will I get there without being seen?”
“T
he lights go out at midnight, but you’ll have to be careful.”
“Yeah, I bet I will. And then I suppose someone will pick it up?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Someone who works on the farm?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“How can a package like that be so important?”
“All I can tell you is that it’s very important because the farm is in a sensitive military area.”
“And you want to know what’s going on?”
“That’s right.” They talked over the details again and Hawkins left as Brian filled the case with relevant paperwork for the trip. He went home early and tried to appear relaxed and happy, but Anna knew him too well. After they had finished dinner she said. “You are still worried, aren’t you?”
“I’ll miss you.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Yes it is. I’ve made the arrangements.”
“You will be careful?”
“Yes, of course.” They went to bed early and made love. Brian lay awake for a while afterwards, feeling guilty about not telling Anna the truth.
He left early the next morning for Belgium, arriving at the factory mid afternoon to witness the loading of the six machines. Ben was checking the ropes and Brian said. “Let’s get into the cab and have a chat.” He sat in the passenger seat. “There’s more to this trip than I told you.”
“I was wondering why you insisted on going yourself.”
“What I’m about to tell you is in the strictest confidence. Naturally I’ve been instructed not to tell anyone.”
“So why are you telling me?”
“So you can pull out if you want to.”
“I see. What’s it all about then?”
Brian quickly related the facts and Ben said gravely. “Does Anna know about this?”
“No. It would worry her too much.”
Ben nodded. “Well, I’m still going to drive this lorry to East Germany.”
Brian was pleased to have a trusted friend along with him. “Thanks. I’ll feel a lot happier with your moral support.”
“Don’t forget I owe you a favour. And besides it’s in my interest to avoid a police enquiry.” They carried on chatting for a while and then went on to Ben’s flat for a meal. Caroline quizzed them about the trip, but received the same explanation as Anna.
They set off early the next morning, travelling all day. Conversation was difficult due to the noise of the engine, and they finally reached West Berlin during the evening both tired and hungry. Their accommodation was booked in advance, so they were able to check in quickly and have a meal. The evening passed quickly, and Brian rang Anna before going to bed.
After a brief breakfast the following morning, they joined the queue at the border. The two men sat there staring at the Berlin Wall and Brian remarked “This must be like going to prison.”
Ben grimaced. “Yes, I’ve come close to that situation a few times.” They edged closer, Brian feeling nervous and worried. At last their turn came. Grim looking uniformed officials scrutinised the paperwork and inspected the load, then waved them on, and both men were pleased to move away from that grotesque wall. The streets in the east were relatively free from traffic and they were soon heading out of town, but progress was slow due to the very poor state of the roads. They passed through small towns and Brian was amazed to see how undeveloped the country was. They stopped for coffee in a small café and were greeted warmly by the proprietor. Brian sat looking out of the window. “Time has stood still for these people. All the vehicles are pre- war.”
“Yes. And I don’t think the roads have been repaired since the war.”
They travelled across flat and uninteresting countryside for hours until they reached a police check point. Two heavily armed policemen checked their load and waved them on.
They reached the farm with its sprawling mass of buildings, and pulled up outside a large building with a loading ramp outside. As they climbed down from the cab a small crowd of farm workers appeared from different areas, all wearing identical overalls and smiling. They chatted enthusiastically as they pointed at the lorry and its contents and nearly half of the workers were women, but it was difficult to tell as they all wore the same attire. A leader addressed Brian in good English. “Welcome to our farm. We are all pleased to meet you.” They shook hands and were escorted to the hostel where lunch was about to be served. Brian and Ben were seated at each end of a long table, and they chatted with their hosts throughout a simple but wholesome lunch. It lasted nearly two hours and Brian spent most of his time answering questions about farming in the West. The questioner, a woman with long fair hair and in her late twenties translated for her comrades.
The forage harvesters were unloaded, and Brian spent a considerable time explaining how maintenance should be carried out before they coupled a machine to a tractor, and followed on foot to a nearby grass field. The crop was very poor and the machine coped with it very easily. They were standing back watching when there was a tremendous roar as a fighter plane passed low overhead. Brian was taken by surprise, backing away and ducking until the plane gained height. He looked at the workers who were still staring at the forage harvester, and took no notice of the plane. When he looked back at the machine blowing grass into a trailer he saw the tractor driver grinning widely, and waving his approval.
The demonstration proved a great success and the rest of the afternoon and evening were spent negotiating prices for other machinery. Brian was keen to get them to look at the new fine cut forage harvester, and they eventually agreed to a demonstration when the grass mowers and fertilizer spreaders were delivered. An order was signed followed by much hand-shaking and good humour.
Ben and Brian occupied adjoining rooms in the farm hostel, Brian choosing the one nearest the door. The rooms were sparsely furnished with single beds and a small chest of drawers. A single naked light lit the room poorly, but it was very clean and tidy. Brian sat on the bed thinking, and occasionally staring at the briefcase. He turned the light off and listened to the roar of aero engines, as planes took off from an air base just out of sight of the main farm buildings. He thought about Anna and how nice it would be to cuddle up close to her and go to sleep, but at last midnight arrived and the lights went out. He reached inside the case and lifted out the package, gripping it tightly, and crept out of the bedroom door, down the corridor and walked slowly out of the outside door. He felt a chill as the wind went through his pullover. There were still some lights on, so he kept to the shadows, creeping along the walls of tall barns full of hay and straw, and every sound caused his heart to miss a beat. After about fifteen minutes, he was within sight of the small building, which was just as Hawkins had described, and he began to feel a little more confident. Suddenly a door opened in the side of a low building and a man stepped out. Brian shrank back into the shadows and hid behind a large water butt whilst the man, carrying a bucket and towel, walked by. He stayed still listening, but all he could hear was the sound of a cow grunting and breathing heavily. The man disappeared around the corner and Brian walked quickly to the small building. The door opened with a creaking sound, and he turned on a small torch to find a meal bin in front of him. He quickly lifted the lid and placed the package inside, covering it with chicken meal as instructed. The walk back to the hostel was uneventful, and he nervously entered the building to find Ben sitting on his bed. “Mission accomplished?”
Yes. Thank goodness I’ve got rid of that.”
“I’ll see you at breakfast. Goodnight.”
Brian undressed in the dark and fell asleep almost immediately, relieved his mission had been successful.
Amid handshakes and smiles the two men departed the following day, were waved through the farm check point without inspection, reaching West Berlin at mid-day. The border police looked into the lorry cab and
underneath it, but were satisfied and they started on their homeward journey. Brian looked across at Ben. “I wonder how many people have been relieved to drive away from that wall?”
“Thousands. And now two more.”
Brian laughed. “Dead right.” The return trip to Antwerp was uncomfortable and tiring, and they decided to break the journey, staying in a roadside hotel. Brian was able to ring Anna, who was delighted to hear from him.
Later they sat at a corner table in the cosy hotel bar and drank local beer. Brian put his glass down and spoke softly. “What do you know about this man, Vautrin?”
“Not very much really. He used to supply the local villains with guns and explosives.”
“Have you heard from him recently?”
“No. The last time I saw him was six years ago. I dropped him off at his house after you had worked him over.”
“I see, so you don’t know any of his friends?”
“Afraid not.”
“I wonder who else he told about us?”
“No idea, but he could just have been saving it up as a bargaining chip.”
“Yes, but his Irish friends probably know about it by now.”
“That’s a sobering thought.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Hawkins rang Brian at his office on Monday morning. “Did everything go as planned?”
“Yes.”
“When are you going back?”
“In three weeks.”
“Right, I’ll brief you again before you leave.”
“Good, because I’ll want to see you.” Brian rang off and sat down to ponder his next move, and the more he thought about it, the less he liked the situation. He decided to create a different hiding place for the package the next day. He selected a new fine cut forage harvester, and had it moved into the company’s special workshop with instructions that no one should touch it. After the factory workers had gone home, he stripped the machine down to its grass-cutting rotor assembly and side panels. That weekend he returned to the workshop and spent all day Sunday making up a special strong hinged sheet steel flap. He travelled on his faithful Royal Enfield, which made Anna think he was going for a day’s ride.
