‘You wouldn’t be living in luxury.’
‘Of course not. But it’s hard to do any job well if you’re spending most of your time huddled round a fire wondering where the next meal’s coming from.’
‘True,’ the colonel conceded. ‘So how do you see yourself being useful? As far as I can tell, your work for us consisted of reporting on the political loyalties of a few Germans and Czechs.’
‘And nearly getting killed in Prague for my pains. I don’t know, is the honest answer. I don’t know what you’ll want from me. But I do know Berlin, and I do know a lot of Berliners, quite a few of whom are probably working for the Soviets by now. And I know the Russians, more’s the pity. I think you’ll find me useful, but if you don’t, you can always dispense with my services.’
‘And all you want is feeding and housing?’
‘I presume you pay your agents.’
‘Ah…’
‘I only want the going rate. I don’t expect to get rich, which is more than you can say for most Americans in Berlin. If you need character references I suggest you contact Joseph Kenyon — I assume he’s still at the Embassy in Moscow — or Al Murchison. He was my boss in 1939.’
‘Murchison’s dead. He was killed in the Pacific.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.’
‘I didn’t know him.’ Lindenberg’s finger brought his rotating pen to a stop, and gave Russell a thoughtful look. ‘I’ll talk to some people,’ he said. ‘Come back on Monday morning and I’ll give you a yes or no.’
Russell stood and offered his hand, which the American took. ‘Have long have you been in England?’ Russell asked him.
‘Too damn long,’ was the predictable reply.
‘Do you trust Shchepkin?’ Effi asked, after Russell had finished describing his meetings with the Russian and Lindenberg. ‘He was the one who got you into all this.’
‘I don’t trust any of them,’ was Russell’s instinctive response. ‘But if I had to choose between him and Nemedin — and I probably will — it would be Shchepkin every time. He’s still recognisably human.’
‘So we wait,’ Effi said. They were whispering in bed, ears cocked for any indication that Rosa was no longer fast asleep.
‘We wait for the Americans, but whatever they say I’ll be going — the Soviets will still want me there to check up on the comrades.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
The feeling of relief was intense, but did nothing to dispel the accompanying anxiety. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ he asked her.
‘Don’t you want me to?’
‘Of course I do. I just… I just worry. Berlin sounds like hell on earth at the moment, and God knows how difficult the Russians are going to be. At least…’
‘But it can’t be as bad as the last few weeks of the war. They’re not still bombing the place, are they?’
‘No, but…’
‘The only question in my mind is whether or not we take Rosa,’ Effi insisted.
‘Well…’ Russell thought about offering an opinion, and realised two things. One, that he could see advantages to both options, and two, that this was a decision that Effi would — and should — take on her own.
‘The film offer came today,’ she told him. ‘A motorcycle courier brought it.’
‘Did you look through it yet?’
‘A quick look, yes. It’s not the script, just an outline, but there was a list of the people involved. You remember Ernst Dufring? I always liked his work, and apparently he’s back from America. And the storyline seems intelligent — it’s about how the members of one family come to terms with what happened under the Nazis, and the various compromises they have to make as individuals. In fact it’s more than intelligent. It actually sounds worthwhile.’
‘It does, doesn’t it?’ Russell wished he could say the same for what the Russians had planned for him.
‘We need to talk to Zarah and Paul,’ Effi went on.
‘Together or separately?’
‘Together, but without the children. Tomorrow night?’
‘Paul’s out tomorrow. He’s going to see a Bogart film. He didn’t actually say so, but I think he’s going with Solly’s secretary.’
‘No!’ Effi said, almost leaping up in bed.
‘I think so.’
‘That’s wonderful.’
‘Let’s hope. But the family conference will have to wait until Friday.’
The next two days were cold and rainy. Russell went out walking whenever the rain slackened, and read when forced back indoors. No matter how many times he analysed his situation, he came to the same depressing conclusions. And Shchepkin’s hope of eventually getting them out from under seemed more fanciful with each day that passed. It would, Russell thought, take another Russian Revolution to set the two of them free.
When Friday evening came round, and he, Effi, Zarah and Paul were wedged knee-to-knee in the small kitchen, he tried for a more positive presentation. The others knew the background to his current predicament, but he went through it again, from Shchepkin’s knock on his Danzig hotel room door in the early hours of 1939 to Lindenberg’s casual acceptance of his status as an experienced spy. Which he supposed he was — people living ordinary lives didn’t find themselves in illicit possession of Baltic naval dispositions, SS pesticide purchases or atomic research documents. He wished he never had, but there it was. He’d signed up to this long game of consequences, and more would surely follow.
‘So I have to go back,’ he concluded.
‘Have to?’ Paul asked quietly. ‘Couldn’t you — you and Effi and Rosa, at least — move out of their reach? America. Australia even. It’s not as if anything’s holding you here in England.’
Russell shook his head. ‘I doubt there’s anywhere on earth beyond the reach of the NKVD. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for them to turn up.’
‘Neither do I,’ Effi said. ‘I’m going back too.’
‘Why?’ Zarah asked. ‘I mean apart from wanting to be with John?’
‘I’ve been offered a movie as well.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a coincidence,’ Paul said.
‘It isn’t. The Soviets have fixed it up somehow, but the film is being made by Germans, and I know a lot of the people involved. My problem is whether or not to take Rosa. I mean, there’d obviously be practical difficulties — I’ll be on set most of the day, and God knows what our living conditions will be like. But even if most of that could be sorted out, I’d still be taking her out of school, and back to a place full of terrible memories. And if I am going to find out what happened to her father, I’ll need to visit every Jewish refugee centre I can. Which would mean taking her from one dreadful place to another, raising and dashing her hopes over and over again.’
‘You sound like you’ve already made up your mind,’ Zarah said.
‘Perhaps, but I’m ready to be told I’m wrong. What do you think, Paul?’
‘I think she should stay here. As long as Zarah’s happy with that. I’ll do all I can, of course, but unless I give up my job most of the burden will fall on Zarah.’
‘It’s no burden,’ Zarah insisted. ‘If I had to I could manage on my own, and if Paul’s here as well… But I do think you should talk to Rosa,’ she told Effi. ‘Just in case. She’ll be upset, of course, but as long as you make it clear that it’s only for a few weeks, I think she’ll take it in her stride. If I’m wrong, and she gets hysterical, then perhaps you should think again.’
‘I will.’
‘And while you’re there,’ Zarah went on, addressing both of them, ‘can you try and find out what happened to Jens? I think he must be dead, but… well, I can live with the uncertainty, but Lothar… I think he needs to know what happened.’
‘What if he’s alive and we find him?’ Russell asked her.
‘Tell him… oh, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want him back, but Lothar does miss him, and we’ll be all going back eventually, won’t we?’
‘Probably,’ Russell said. It seemed the likeliest option.
‘Then if you see him, tell him Lothar and I are alive, and that when we come back Lothar will want to see him.’