by Ted Allbeury
He turned to look at her. ‘Which one would you take home?’
She smiled. ‘Money no object?’
‘Money no object.’
They were sitting on the bench in Gallery 28 in the Tate, and she didn’t hesitate. ‘The Pissarro. The snow one. I don’t need to ask which one you would choose.’
‘Which one, then?’
‘The Millais. Ophelia.’
She laughed out loud at the surprised look on his face. ‘How on earth did you guess?’ He sounded almost annoyed. ‘I didn’t even comment about it when we were looking at it.’
She smiled. ‘You know, you and Petrov are alike in many ways.’
‘What ways?’
She shrugged. ‘Neither of you hangs together properly. You’re both romantics without acknowledging it. And underneath you’re both rather unpleasant. Ruthless, suspicious, cynical, and I wouldn’t like to be a man either of you disliked.’
‘Charming.’
‘No way, boyo. Neither of you has got an ounce of charm but you’re both quite honest, and I set store by that. And to a woman you’re both as transparent as young boys. And women like that. It makes life easier for them.’
‘And what’s Millais’ Ophelia got to do with all this?’
‘It’s romantic. Beautifully and gently painted. And the girl is young, and pretty, and innocent. Your idea of how girls should be. Nevertheless she is dead. Drowned. Lying in the stream. But that didn’t sadden you. Although it might have passed through your mind that if you’d been there you could have rescued her.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t look so shocked or insulted, whichever it is.’
He turned to look at her face. She was already looking at him. He opened his mouth to speak and changed his mind. He stood up and reached out his hand for hers. And as they walked through the gallery she slid her arm under his. She had said aloud almost exactly what he had thought about the painting. And he had barely been aware that the girl was dead. He saw just the beauty, and fleetingly thought that if he had been there he could have saved her. And he was hard enough not to want her to know how near the truth her barbs had been.
They walked down the gallery steps and crossed the road. As they leaned against the Embankment stone wall, looking at the boats on the Thames, he slid his arm around her, aware of her body and its soft warmth. The river was high and turgid, garbage and oil surging and falling from the wake of the passing ships.
‘D’you miss Dublin and your people, Siobhan?’
‘I do right now.’
‘Why now?’
‘You and Petrov. It’s like another world. I can remember an engraving in a school book called Orpheus in the Underworld. Very detailed. Very dark and forbidding. Your lives are like that. It’s like a terrible game. A sick game that normal people ought not to be mixed up in. It’s like some crazy party where people go along dressed up as monsters, but the people who invited them aren’t dressed up. They are monsters.’
‘You think Petrov and I are monsters?’
‘Yes.’
He was aware that she was watching his face, and almost without thinking he turned to look at her. She was so beautiful.
He sighed. ‘I feel in need of a fairy princess.’
She smiled back at him. Indulgently. And then she put up her soft mouth to be kissed. He kissed her gently and then turned his face to look at the river. She said softly, ‘Why haven’t you made a pass at me?’
He shrugged. ‘You’re Petrov’s girl. You belong to him.’
‘Don’t be so stupid, Jimmy.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I don’t belong to anyone. And Petrov hasn’t made love to me since you agreed to get his Pole back for him.’
‘I’m sorry about that.’
She laughed, her head thrown back. ‘You really are the limit. What is there to be sorry about? The whole scenario was just like your game. Petrov screwed me because I’m pretty, because he likes screwing girls, and because he could pretend I was his wife. In his mind of course he’d put the reasons in reverse order. All part of the knight in shining armour fantasy. It wasn’t me he was screwing it was a girl who, when he last saw her, looked like me and was about my age. But even he can’t bring himself to tell me that. So he kids himself first, so that he can then try to kid me with an easy conscience. OK. I was kidded. But I don’t mind. I understand. He wanted a momma and a wife, and a girl to screw. And I could only be one of those things. I didn’t even know about his background. Nor about his wife, or what he was. I knew he wasn’t what he pretended, but whatever he really was, it didn’t matter to me.’
He looked back at her and the sun made her cheek look like a soft warm peach. ‘You’re very understanding, sweetie.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m just a human being. You two inhabit your stupid world of cowboys and Indians, and I live in the real world all the time. You two are foreigners in the real world. Just visitors from outer space who don’t know much about how real people behave.’
He saw tears at the edges of her eyes and it moved him enough for him not to pretend. ‘I’ve wanted to go to bed with you from the moment I first saw you. But that was only because you were so pretty. I know you much better now’ and I’m not looking for a momma. I’m not sure about the wife bit, but I might be a problem.’
‘How?’
‘It would be more than just a screw for me.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’d like it to be real. That you were my girl.’
‘I don’t need gypsy violins.’
He smiled. ‘You know me, Siobhan. I do.’
For long moments she looked at him, and then she said softly, ‘Let’s see how it goes.’
‘Shall I tell Petrov?’
‘It’s up to you. He won’t notice I’m not in his bed.’
‘That’s not true, kid.’
‘Who was she?’
‘Who was who?’
‘The girl who sent you back into your no-man’s land.’
‘What makes you think there was such a girl?’
‘Two things, my love. First of all it’s very obvious. Secondly I read a letter to you from some lawyer. It was tucked into your desk. I saw the picture too. The one in the old-fashioned silver frame. The one you put behind the books.’
He sighed. ‘I’ll tell you when we know each other better.’
He saw the sudden anger in her eyes. ‘You mean when you’re sure I’m good enough you’ll tell me about some tramp who cut your throat and threw you back in the water.’
‘I didn’t mean that at all.’
‘What did you mean?’
‘I meant that I don’t know how to begin. Or what to say. I tried to make it work but it was never on. I’ve never worked out why.’
‘Forget it. I was stupid.’ She kissed him and slid her tongue into his mouth, and his hand slid up under her arm to cup her breast.
20
Just like the girl had said, Petrov had been no problem. He brushed aside Lawler’s halting explanations. All he wanted to know was why it was taking so long to trace his ex-wife. It had become an obsession now. Petrov wanted his wife for a score of reasons. She represented a time when his life had been good. She was his safety-net. The ready-made family, the dearly beloved, nostalgia, all that had been good. And underlying it all she would be the proof that they weren’t going to kill him. When she was with him, and they’d negotiated the future, he would tell them what he had to tell. The things that would wipe out the threat.
It was two days later when Lawler got the call that Hooper in Warsaw wanted to speak to him. He ignored security precautions and took a taxi direct to Century House.
He had to wait an hour to get through, and he was tense and on edge as he heard Hooper’s voice.
‘What have you got?’
‘Your friend’s not in Warsaw. Not in Poland in fact.’
‘What’s that mean?’
‘The old man was the uncle all right. But he’s senile. It took a long time
to get it all worked out. It means the person is positively identified as being alive. And I’ve got an address.’
‘What is it?’
‘I’ve put it in yesterday’s bag. Should be your end tonight.’
‘What’s her situation?’
‘It’s there for you. It’s not much. I suggest we leave it for now.’
‘Is that all?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Well, thanks.’
‘Best of luck, sir.’
Lawler hung up and looked at his watch. Why had Hooper wished him the best of luck? He reached for the internal phone and dialled Foreign Office Admin and asked when the Warsaw bag was due. They were waiting for it now. It had arrived at Heathrow, had been cleared, and was on its way. He asked for his piece to be sent over straight away to Century House. It was midnight when the buff envelope arrived and he tore it open impatiently. It felt very thin. It was a single folded page and as he spread it open he closed his eyes for a second before he read it.
TO: J. LAWLER. LONDON HQ.
FROM: W. HOOPER. ASST. MIL. ATT. WARSAW EMBASSY.
MARIA GRAZYNA FELINSKA
INFORMATION FROM WOJTEK FELINSKI. UNCLE OF ABOVE. ADDRESS ON FILE HERE. (91409)
WHEN SHE RETURNED FROM MOSCOW SHE HAD DIFFICULTY IN OBTAINING A WORK PERMIT AND FOOD COUPONS. SHE WORKED FOR ABOUT A YEAR AS A CHAMBERMAID IN THE HOTEL BRISTOL-ORBIS IN ULITZA KRAKOWSKIE PRZEDMIESCIE. SOME TIME LATER, DATE NOT PRECISELY KNOWN, SHE WORKED AS CLERK AT THE TOURIST INFORMATION CENTRE, ULITZA KRUCZA, 16. AFTER SOME MONTHS SHE WAS TRANSFERRED TO AN ADMINISTRATIVE POST AT THE PALACE OF CULTURE AND SCIENCE, PL. DEFILAD. SHE WAS LATER EMPLOYED AT THE KRAKOW FILM CENTRE WORKING IN SOME CAPACITY ON TOURIST FILMS FOR ORBIS, AL. PUSZKINA 1. ABOUT ONE YEAR AGO SHE MOVED TO AN ADDRESS IN EAST BERLIN WHICH WAS GIVEN AS FRIEDRICHSBERGEN STRASSE 17. THIS INFORMATION CAME FROM A LETTER TO A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY. I HAVE SEEN THE ORIGINAL LETTER. SUBJECT APPEARED TO BE WORKING FOR A FILM COMPANY. ALTHOUGH MR FELINSKI ONLY HINTED AT THE MATTER, IT SEEMED POSSIBLE THAT MISS FELINSKA OWED HER IMPROVED SITUATION TO HER RELATIONSHIP WITH A POLE OF GERMAN ORIGIN NAMED WALTHER KRAMER (NICKNAME BUBI). THERE SEEMS LITTLE POSSIBILITY7 OF CONFIRMING OR ADDING TO THE ABOVE INFORMATION WITHOUT DRAWING OFFICIAL ATTENTION TO OUR INTEREST. SHALL MAINTAIN LOW-KEY CONTACT WITH INFORMANT. MESSAGE ENDS.
Lawler sat in the almost empty group of offices trying to work out what to do. At least when she had been last heard from she wasn’t married. But there was obviously a man in the picture somewhere. That was to be expected. But he knew nothing about her life or whether she had ever talked about Petrov. She had probably been warned by the KGB not to talk. It would mean going in cold and uninformed. But Berlin was going to be easier than Warsaw. A fifty-fifty chance against a forty-sixty chance. And there would be better back-up in Berlin, They could make some enquiries before he arrived.
He wrote out a message on the standard form and took it down to Coding. The big room was as busy as if it were midday. They checked it over and confirmed that it would be received in West Berlin inside the hour.
Back at the flat Siobhan was in bed, reading, waiting for him. She looked up, smiling. ‘And how’s the Peewit patrol done tonight?’
He sat on the bed and looked at her. ‘It’s bloody marvellous to come back to a smile. Especially at two o’clock in the morning.’
She laughed and pulled him to her. ‘That’s the most revealing thing you’ve ever said, my love. And for your information it’s nearer three-thirty than two. D’you want a drink?’
He shook his head. ‘I think I’ve traced his wife.’
‘Where was she?’
‘Can’t say, sweetie. But it’s good news.’
‘Wake the poor bastard up and tell him.’
‘Shall I?’
‘Why not? He’ll be delighted.’
And he was. Pacing up and down. Smiling at his private thoughts and insisting that they opened a bottle of Stolichnaya for just one drink each.
He was still drinking when Lawler and Siobhan went to bed, standing there smiling and happy, trying to get Radio Moscow on the radio.
The message from Silvester said that he wanted to see Lawler urgently, but when he arrived at Silvester’s office he had been kept waiting for almost half an hour. It was seven-thirty before he was shown in and Silvester was just putting down the phone. He pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk and walked round to sit in the other chair opposite Lawler.
‘When are you leaving for Berlin, Jimmy?’
‘The day after tomorrow. Facilities had difficulty booking me on a direct flight. I still might have to go via Düsseldorf.’
‘Were you still intending that Petrov and the girl should go down to your parents?’
‘Yes. I think they’ll be OK down there.’
Silvester sighed and leaned down to undo the laces on his black brogues. When he straightened up he said, l want you to take both of them with you.’
‘Why, Adam? They’ll be in the way. And Berlin was Petrov’s old stamping ground. Somebody might recognize him, for God’s sake.’
Silvester looked at Lawler, as if he were trying to decide whether to tell him something or not.
I think Petrov’s in danger. Even the girl. And maybe you too.’
‘I don’t understand, Adam. What the hell’s going on?’
‘Something’s cropped up. Even if you hadn’t been going to Berlin I’d have wanted you out of London. Even out of the country.’
Is this KGB?’
‘I’ve been stupid, James. I’ve only just discovered how stupid. I’m not going to risk being stupid a second time.’
‘Surely I can be told?’
‘I can tell you part of it. I owe you that. But I can’t tell you all of it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m not sure I’m right. If I’m wrong then there’s no problem. I hope for a lot of people’s sakes that I am wrong. I’ve told the Director but nobody else. He thinks I’ve stretched my theory much too far, but he agrees that we should behave for the moment as if I’m right. Nobody else is being told anything at all. When I analyse it myself I doubt my own theory. But when I go by instinct and experience then there’s a faint chance that I could be right. I’m not intending to take any chances.’
‘Has a threat been made?’
‘No.’
‘Is the Soviet Embassy making moves?’
‘No.’
‘What’s the bit that I can know?’
Silvester looked down as he slid his feet out of his shoes and moved his toes, then he looked up at Lawler.
‘I assure you it won’t help.’
‘It helped you, apparently.’
‘Only because I’ve been around SIS for a long, long time.’
‘I’d still like to know.’
‘OK. The man Ridger. The one you thought was watching your flat. I put a check out on him. No priority. He was sacked from Special Branch for misconduct. I had him pulled in and questioned. The report was on my desk a week ago but I didn’t read it until yesterday. He was watching you. He’d been paid to. He had no idea why, he just took the money and put in reports twice a day. Something in the report jogged my memory and I questioned him today, myself. What I got out of him was by no means conclusive. I’d had a wild, impossible thought. All I can say is that although what he had to say didn’t confirm my idea, it didn’t wash it out either. I’m having some other checks done. They could take months. Until they are done I’m taking precautions. That’s all I’m going to say.’
‘What precautions can I take?’
‘So far as this is concerned, once the three of you are in Berlin there’s no extra risk. But I’ve got a feeling I know what Petrov’s piece of insurance is now. Part of it anyway.’
‘What is it?’
‘It wouldn’t help you to know. And I could be wrong. So forget it. I’ve told Facilities to get the three of you on tonight’s ten-thirty flight so you’d better get back and round up the othe
r two. I’ve laid on a car to take you back to Chelsea and he’ll wait and take you to the airport. The flights were over-booked but we’ve insisted on places tonight. The driver’s got the warrants but you’ll have to exchange them for tickets at the check-in desk. There won’t be any problems.’ Silvester stood up. ‘If you look like getting Petrov’s wife across and his girl-friend is going to be an embarrassment send her back and I’ll take care of her at this end.’
‘I’ll see how it goes.’
‘OK. Best of luck.’
Lawler hesitated, and then decided to say nothing about the changes in the trio’s relationships.
‘Who’ll be my contact in Berlin?’
‘Barlow. You know him, don’t you?’
‘Yes. We’ve worked together before.’
‘I’ll tell Barlow, and you phone my girl to let me know your flight number so you can be met.’
‘Right, sir.’
Silvester nodded. ‘It may not feel like it, Jimmy, but you’re doing a good job. It is in my book anyway.’
As Lawler went down in the lift he wondered in whose book it wasn’t a good job. Apart from his own.
They landed at Tegel just before midnight, but the airport was still busy. Joe Barlow, and a younger man who wasn’t introduced, had helped them carry their bags to the waiting car.
When they turned into the driveway and pulled up outside the safe-house in Grunewald Petrov smiled. ‘It’s like going back to school. I’ve seen photographs of this place from every angle including from the air. I’ve seen drawings and notes of the internal layout, and once I even sat in on a discussion on how to blow it up.’
Joe Barlow smiled. ‘We must have a chat about what you planned.’ Barlow looked at them in turn. Do any of you fancy a drink or a meal? It’s no trouble.’
But everybody voted for bed, although Lawler spent twenty minutes or so talking with Barlow.
‘She’s not at that address anymore, James. But we’ve traced where she is. She’s living in a house by the river in Kopenick. But there’s what looks like a big problem.’
