“Then the fact that I’m still alive suggests they weren’t being sent out.”
“Maybe they decided to wait awhile, Mengele and the Comrades Organization, because you knew. Or even called the whole thing off.”
“You see what I mean about the ‘ifs’ and the ‘maybes’?”
“Did you realize that you may be in danger?”
The waiter put cherry cake before Klaus, a Linzer torte before Liebermann. He poured Klaus’s coffee, Liebermann’s tea.
When he had gone, Liebermann, tearing open a packet of sugar, said, “I’ve been in danger for a long time, Klaus. I stopped thinking about it; otherwise I would have had to close the Center and do something else with my life. You’re right; ‘if’ there are killers, I’m probably on the list. So finding out is still the only thing to do. I’ll go to Bordeaux and have Piwowar, my friend in Stockholm, go to Fagersta. And if those men too can’t have been victims, I’ll check out a few more, just to be sure.”
Klaus, stirring his coffee, said, “I could go to Fagersta; I speak some Swedish.”
“But for you I’d have to buy a ticket, right? And for Piwowar, I won’t. Unfortunately that’s a factor. Also, you shouldn’t skip lectures so casually.”
“I could skip every lecture for a month and still graduate with honors.”
“Oh my. Such a brain. Tell me about yourself; how did you become so smart?”
“I could tell you something about myself that might come as a surprise to you, Herr Liebermann.”
Liebermann listened gravely and sympathetically.
Klaus’s parents were former Nazis. His mother had been on close terms with Himmler; his father had been a colonel in the Luftwaffe.
Almost all the young Germans who offered to help Liebermann were children of former Nazis. It was one of the few things that made him think God might be real and at work, if only slowly.
“We’re awful.”
“No we’re not, we’re smashing. Ought to be doing it on film.”
“You know what I mean. Look at us; one, two, and in the kip. Tuppence says you forgot my name.”
“Meg for Margaret.”
“Full name.”
“Reynolds. Tuppence please, Nurse Reynolds.”
“Too dark to find my purse. Will you settle for this?”
“Mmm, yes indeed. Mmm, that’s lovely.”
“‘Blushing shyly, she said, “It won’t be only this one night, sir, will it?”’”
“Is that what’s on your mind?”
“No, I’m thinking about the price of pickles. Of course it’s on my mind! This isn’t my usual modus vivendi, you know.”
“I say. ‘Modus vivendi’!”
“There’s a straight answer.”
“I wasn’t trying to be evasive, Meg. I’m afraid it may be only tonight, but not because I want it that way. I have no choice in the matter. I was sent up here to…do some business with someone, and he’s laid out in your bloody hospital, on oxygen, with no visitors except the immediate fam.”
“Harrington?”
“That’s the chap. When I call in and report I can’t get to him, I’ll probably be pulled right back down to London. We’re dreadfully short of staff at present.”
“Will you come back when he recovers?”
“Not likely. I’ll be onto another case by then; someone else’ll take over. Assuming he does recover. It’s iffy, I gather.”
“Yes, he’s sixty-six, you know, and it was quite a bad attack. He has a strong constitution, though. Ran round the green every morning at eight sharp; you could set your watch. They say it helps the heart, but I say it harms it at that age.”
“It’s a pity I can’t get to him; I’d have been able to stay here a fortnight at the very least. Do you think we could get together at Christmas? We close up shop then; can you get free?”
“I might be able…”
“Lovely! Would you? I have a flat in Kensington, with a bed a mite softer than this one.”
“Alan, what business are you in?”
“I told you.”
“It certainly doesn’t sound like selling. Salesmen don’t have ‘cases.’ Except the carrying kind, and I didn’t notice any of those, not that I had much time to. Selling what, eh? You’re not really a salesman at all, are you?”
“Clever Meg. Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course I can.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. You can trust me, Alan.”
“Well—I’m with the Inland Revenue. We’ve had a tip that Harrington has bilked us out of something like thirty thousand quid over the past ten or twelve years.”
“I don’t believe it! He’s a magistrate!”
“They’re the ones, more often than you’d think.”
“My Lord, he’s Civic Virtue on a pedestal!”
“That’s as may be. I was sent to find out. Y’ see, I was to put a transmitter into his home, a ‘bug,’ and monitor it from my room here, see what I could pick up.”
“Is that the way you blighters operate?”
“Standard procedure in cases like this. I have the warrant in my briefcase. His hospital room would have been even better than his home. A chap’s a bit nervous in hospital; tells the wife where the loot is hidden, whispers a word or two to his solicitor… But I can’t get in to plant the bloody thing. I could show the warrant to your director, but like as not he’s Harrington’s pal; he’ll drop a word and it’s Johnny-out-the-window.”
“You bastard. You ruddy old bastard!”
“Meg! What are—”
“You think I don’t see what the game is? You want me to plant your whatsit for you. That’s why we ‘happened’ to meet so accidentally. Fed me your line of—Oh Christ, I should have known you were up to something, Handsome Harry falling for a fat old cow like me.”
“Meg! Don’t say that, love!”
“Get your hands off. And don’t call me ‘love,’ thank you. Oh Christ, what an ass I am!”
“Meg dear, please, lie back down and—”
“Keep off! I’m glad he did you out of something. You buggers get too much from us as it is. Ho! There’s a joke. Remind me to laugh.”
“Meg! Yes, you’re right, it’s true; I was hoping you’d lend a hand, and that is why we met. But it isn’t why we’re up here now. Do you think I’m so loyal to the bleeding Rev that I’d bed down with someone I wasn’t keen on, just to get a wretched little twister like Harrington? And want to go on doing it for a fortnight or more? He’s nothing compared to most we go after. I meant every word I said, Meg, about preferring large women, and mature ones, and wanting you to come stay with me at Christmas.”
“Don’t believe one bloody word.”
“Oh Meg, I could…tear my tongue out! You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in fifteen years, and now I’ve spoiled it all with my stupidity! Will you just lie back down, love? I’m not going to mention Harrington ever again. I wouldn’t let you help me now if you begged me.”
“I shan’t, so don’t worry.”
“Just lie back down, love—that’s the girl—and let me hold you and kiss these nice big—Mmmmm! Ah, Meg, you’re really heaven! Mmmmm!”
“Bastard…”
“You know what I’ll do? I’ll call in tomorrow and tell my super that Harrington’s mending and I think I’ll be able to plant the bug in a day or two. Perhaps I can stall him till Thursday or Friday before he pulls me back. Mmmmm! I’m queer for nurses, did y’ know that? My mum was one, and so was Mary, my wife. Mmmmm!”