London Match (12 page)

It was Werner Volkmann. He had his hat dumped on top of his head and was wearing his long heavy coat with the astrakhan collar. I called it his impresario's coat, but today the laugh was on me, freezing to death in my damp trench coat. 'What's happening?' he said.

'Nothing,' I said. 'Nothing at all.'

'Don't bite my head off,' said Werner. 'I'm not even getting paid.'

'I'm sorry, Werner, but I told you not to bother to drag out here.'

'The roads are empty, and to tell you the truth, being a Jew I feel a bit of a hypocrite celebrating Christmas.'

'You haven't left Zena alone?'

'Her sister's family are with us — four children and a husband who works in the VAT office.'

'I can see why you came.'

'I like it all up to a point,' said Werner. 'Zena likes to do the whole thing right. You know how it is in Germany. She spent all the afternoon decorating the tree and putting the presents out, and she has real candles on it.'

'You should be with them,' I said. In Germany the evening before Christmas Day —
heiliger Abend
— is the most important time of the holiday. 'Make sure she doesn't burn the house down.'

'I'll be back with them in time for the dinner. I told them you'd join us.'

'I wish I could, Werner. But I'll have to be here when it comes out of the water. Dicky put that in writing and you know what he's like.'

'Are you going to try again soon?'

'In about an hour. What did you find out at the hospital this morning?'

'Nothing very helpful. The people who took her away were dressed up to be a doctor and hospital staff. They had the Citroen waiting outside. From what the people in the reception office say, the ambulance was supposed to be taking her to a private clinic in Dahlem.'

'What about the cop guarding her?'

'For him they had a different story. They told him they were clinic staff. They said they were just taking her downstairs for another X-ray and would be back in about thirty minutes. She was very weak and complained bitterly about being moved. She probably didn't realize what was going to happen.'

'That she was going into the Havel, you mean?'

'No. That they were a KGB team, there to get her away from police custody.'

I said, 'Why didn't the clinic reception phone the police before releasing her?'

'I don't know, Bernie. One of them said that she was taken out using the papers of a patient who was due to be moved that day. Another one said there was a policeman outside with the ambulance, so it seemed to be all in order. We'll probably never find out exactly what happened. It's a hospital, not a prison; the staff don't worry too much about who's going in and out.'

'What do you make of it, Werner?'

'They knew she was talking, I suppose. Somehow what she was telling us got back to Moscow and they decided there was only one way of handling it.'

'Why not take her straight back into East Berlin?' I said.

'In an ambulance? Very conspicuous. Even the Russians are not too keen on that sort of publicity. Snatching a prisoner from police custody and taking her across the wire would not look good at a time when the East Germans are trying to show the world what good neighbours they can be.' He looked at me. I pulled a face. 'It's easier this way,' added Werner. 'They got rid of her. They were taking no chances. If she had talked to us already, they'd be making sure she couldn't give evidence.'

'But it's a drastic remedy, Werner. What made them get so excited?'

'They knew she was handling the radio traffic your wife provided.'

'Right,' I said. 'And Fiona is over there. So why would they be worried about what she might tell us?'

'Fiona is behind it? Is that what you mean?'

'It's difficult not to suspect her hand is in it.'

'But Fiona is safe and sound. What has she got to worry about?'

'Nothing, Werner, she's got nothing to worry about.'

He looked at me as if puzzled. Then he said, The radio traffic then. What did Dicky think about the multiple codes?'

'Dicky didn't seem to be listening. He was hoping the Miller woman would just fade away, and he's forbidden me to speak with Stinnes.'

'Dicky was never one to go looking for extra work,' said Werner.

'No one is interested,' I said. 'I went down to talk to Silas Gaunt and von Munte and neither of them were very interested. Silas waggled his finger at me when I brought the matter up with von Munte. And he told me not to rock the boat. Don't start digging into all that again, he said.'

'I don't know old Mr Gaunt the way you do. I just remember him in the Berlin office at the time when your dad was Resident. We were about eighteen years old. Mr Gaunt bet me that the Wall would never go up. I won fifty marks from him when they built the Wall. And fifty marks was a lot of money in those days. You could have an evening out with all the trimmings for fifty marks.'

'I wish I had one mark for every time you've told me that story, Werner.'

'You're in a filthy mood, Bernie. I'm sorry you got this rotten job, but it's not my fault.'

'I'd really looked forward to a couple of days with the kids. They're growing up without me, Werner. And Gloria is there too.'

'I'm glad that's going well . . . you and Gloria.'

'It's bloody ridiculous,' I said. 'I'm old enough to be her father. Do you know how old she is?'

'No, and I don't care. There's an age difference between me and Zena, isn't there? But that doesn't stop us being happy.'

I turned to Werner so that I could look at him. It was dark. His face was visible only because it was edged with light reflected from the array of floodlights. His heavy-lidded eyes were serious. Poor Werner. Was he really happy? His marriage was my idea of hell. 'Zena is older than Gloria,' I said.

'Be happy while you can, Bernie. It's nothing to do with Gloria's age. You still feel bad about losing Fiona. You haven't got over her running away yet. I know you, and I can tell. She was a sort of anchor for you, a base. Without her you are restless and unsure of yourself. But that's only temporary. You'll get over it. And Gloria is just what you need.'

'Maybe.' I didn't argue with him; he was usually very perceptive about people and their relationships. That was why he'd been such a good field agent back in the days when we were young and carefree, and enjoyed taking risks.

'What's really on your mind? Code names are just for the analysts and Coordination staff. Why do you care how many code names Fiona used?'

'She used
one
,' I snapped. 'They all use one. Our people have one name per source and so do their agents. That's what von Munte confirmed. Fiona was
Eisenguss
— no other names.'

'How can you be so sure?'

'I'm not one hundred per cent sure,' I told him. 'Special circumstances come up in this business; we all know that. But I'm ninety-nine per cent sure.'

'What are you saying, Bernie?'

'Surely it's obvious, Werner.'

'It's Christmas, Bernie. I had a few drinks just to be sociable. What is it you're saying?'

'There are two major sources of material that the Miller woman handled. Both top-grade intelligence. Only one of them was Fiona.'

Werner pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger and closed his eyes. Werner did that when he was thinking hard. 'You mean there's someone else still there? You mean the KGB still have someone in London Central?'

'I don't know,' I said.

'Don't just shrug it off,' said Werner. 'Don't hit me in the face with that kind of custard pie and then say you don't know.'

'Everything points to it,' I said. 'But I've told them at London Central. I've done everything short of drawing a diagram and no one gives a damn.'

'It might just be a stunt, a KGB stunt.'

'I'm not organizing a lynching party, Werner. I'm just suggesting that it should be checked out.'

'The Miller woman might have got it wrong,' said Werner.

'She might have got it wrong, but even if she got it wrong, that still leaves a question to be answered. And what if someone reads the Miller transcript and starts wondering if I might be the other source?'

'Ahh! You're just covering your arse,' said Werner. 'You don't really think there's another KGB source in London Central, but you realized that you'd have to interpret it that way in case anyone thought it was you and you were trying to protect yourself.'

'Don't be stupid.'

'I'm not stupid, Bernard. I know London Central and I know you. You're just running round shouting fire in case someone accuses you of arson.'

I shook my head to say no, but I was wondering if perhaps he was right. He knew me better than anyone, better even than Fiona knew me.

'Are you really going to hang on until they get that motor car out of the water?'

That's what I'm going to do.'

'Come back for a bite of dinner. Ask the police inspector to phone us when they start work again.'

'I mustn't, Werner. I promised Lisl I'd have dinner with her at the hotel in the unlikely event of my getting away from here in time.'

'Shall I phone her to say you won't make it?'

I looked at my watch. 'Yes, please, Werner. She's having some cronies in to eat there — old Mr Koch and those people she buys wine from — and they'll get fidgety if she delays dinner for me.'

'I'll phone her. I took her a present yesterday, but I'll phone to say Happy Christmas.' He pulled the collar of his coat up and tucked his white silk scarf into it. 'Damned cold out here on the river.'

'Get back to Zena,' I told him.

'If you're sure you're not coming. . . . Shall I bring you something to eat?'

'Stop being a Jewish mother, Werner. There are plenty of places where I can get something. In fact, I'll walk back to your car with you. There's a bar open on the corner. I'll get myself sausage and beer.'

It was nearly ten o'clock at night when they dragged the ambulance out of the Havel. It was a sorry sight, its side caked with oily mud where it had rested on the bottom of the river. One tyre was torn off and some of the bodywork ripped open where it had collided with the railings that were there to prevent such accidents.

There was a muffled cheer as the car came to rest. But there was no delay in finishing the job. Even while the frogmen were still packing their gear away, the car's doors had been levered open and a search was being made of its interior.

There was no body inside — that was obvious within the first two or three minutes — but we continued to search through the car in search of other evidence.

By eleven-fifteen the police inspector declared the preliminary forensic examination complete. Although they'd put a number of oddments into clear-plastic evidence bags, nothing had been discovered that was likely to throw any light on the disappearance of Carol Elvira Miller, self-confessed Russian agent.

We were all very dirty. I went with the policemen into the toilet facilities at the wharfside. There was no hot water from the tap, and only one bar of soap. One of the policemen came back with a large pail of boiling water. The rest of them stood aside so that the inspector could wash first. He indicated that I should use the other sink.

'What do you make of it?' said the inspector as he rationed out a measure of the hot water into each of the sinks.

'Where would a body turn up?' I asked.

'Spandau locks, that's where we fish them out,' he said without hesitation. 'But there was no one in that car when it went into the water.' He took off his jacket and shirt so that he could wash his arms where mud had dribbled up his sleeve.

'You think not?' I stood alongside him and took the soap he offered.

'The front doors were locked, and the back door of the ambulance was locked too. Not many people getting out of a car underwater remember to lock the doors before swimming away.' He passed me some paper towels.

'It went into the water empty?'

'So you don't want to talk about it. Very well.'

'No, you're right,' I said. 'It's probably just a stunt. How did you get the information about where to find it?'