He paused for a moment, removed his glasses, wiped them. He looked, for the first time, in my eyes, like a man without any power at all.
‘I warned you, Prentis. If you want me to stop, just say so.’
I shook my head.
‘Very well.’ He took a sip of his drink, replaced his glasses. ‘The irony of it all — the absurdity of it all — was that in order to continue what I supposed was this benevolent scheme I had to put up a screen around myself so I wouldn’t be found out; and, to keep people at a distance, I found myself having to behave the very opposite of benevolently. I’m afraid I’ve been a bit of a tyrant.’
‘So, you mean — all your — ’
‘All my high-and-mighty bloody-mindedness?’
‘— was just a cover? But you must have known that sooner or later the missing files and so on would have been discovered.’
‘Yes, but I thought if I spread enough intimidation around nobody would dare do anything about it.’
‘And the mixed-up files — the inquiries that didn’t lead anywhere at all?’
‘Red herrings — to cloud the issue. You see, I thought that if you or one of the others got wind of something, then the more generally confusing I made things, the better. The fact is, by this time, I was beginning to work hard at this other role — not just a cover — baffling people, making people afraid of me. Suspiciously hard. Did it work? A good performance?’
‘It worked.’
An anxious, almost desperate look had come into his face.
‘But only up to a point. Up to a point. Here, you’d better drink up, we’re getting to the difficult part.’
We both drank. Everything in the garden was perfectly still. I thought of the patients on the terrace, with their tales of woe.
‘Do you know at what point my little bid for power — my little enterprise for the good of mankind — broke down? Can you guess? It was all right, you see, doing good turns for people who were only names in files. I didn’t have any qualms, then, that what I was doing was keeping from them the truth. I thought, they can do without the truth. But when it suddenly became a case of keeping the truth from someone I knew, then it was a different matter. I began to waver. Oh yes, I’ve always been a waverer — but I really began to waver. What do you do? Let the truth out, always, no matter how painful? I began to get conscience-stricken. You know who the person is I’m talking about, don’t you?’
I looked at him. His bald head shone. I had forgotten he was my boss.
‘At first I thought there was an easy way out. When your father — became ill. When he ceased to speak. I thought, that puts a better seal on things than ever I could. It’s all right, Prentis, I’ll explain in a moment. No, but that was too easy. And it didn’t solve the real issue. Supposing your father — forgive me — were to speak again. And the evidence, in any case, was still traceable. So I started to sound you out. I thought the only fair basis on which to proceed, either way, was your own disposition. I started to test you, to find out if you were the sort of person who would always want the truth — regardless of the cost — or not. I already knew about that fertile imagination of yours. I began to lay down little clues, little hints, to see how you would react. They must have become rather transparent in the last few weeks. And when you seemed to be cottoning on, I’d get scared and come down hard on you. I’ve been blowing hot and cold, I know. It’s a funny thing, isn’t it, how you start off wanting to protect someone and then, for that very reason, you end up torturing them? And as I was conducting this little test on you I began to realize that I was testing you for quite another reason too. I knew my retirement would be on the cards this year. Another way out of the problem, if you like. But it’s not. I used to wonder, what will happen when I go? What will happen to my little half-baked scheme to save the world? All right — the sort of person they need in my job is the firm, inflexible — unimaginative type. But, between the two of us, I hope they never get him. You see, here I am, confessing away like a sinner, but the truth of the matter is — I’m going round in circles, I know — I’m not convinced that I’ve done wrong. Anyway, I put you to the test. And I found out firstly that you weren’t the sort of person who would stop at finding out the truth — you wanted to know; and, secondly — I hope this doesn’t shock you — I found out you were just a little bit like me. There were times when you almost came and had it out with me weren’t there? — and then you didn’t. You want your little bit of power as well, and you can’t entirely control your actions, and — forgive me for speaking like this — you really want to be rather better than you are.’
So it was true. I had been spied on. I had been the subject of an investigation.
‘What I’m saying — I’m not being clear, I’m sorry — is that ultimately I can’t trust anything but my own instincts, and when I’ve left the department, I’d like to know that it’s being run, well, shall I just say — wait till you’ve heard everything — by someone who will — trust his own instincts too.’
He turned to face me. Deep in his eyes again was that needle-like gleam.
‘Shall we get down to particulars? How much have you found out — you know what I mean — about C9?’
I drew a long, shaky breath.
‘That Z was a friend of my father’s. That X may have been imprisoned by the Germans at the same time, and at the same place, as my father.’
‘No more? Enough. Look I want to say at the beginning that what we’re dealing with here isn’t necessarily the one hundred per cent proven truth. I’ve been talking just now about the truth. It’s hard enough withholding the truth when you’re sure it’s the truth you’re withholding. But it’s ten times worse when there’s even the shadow of a doubt that it might not be the truth at all. All your pangs of conscience for nothing. But if it’s a lie, Prentis, then maybe you have a right to know the lie as well. Now, do you want to know what was in File E?’
I nodded. My voice had gone.
‘File E contained documents relating to X which came to light soon after X’s death while undergoing trial. These documents contained evidence which might have been grounds for further investigation or even further criminal charges, but because X was dead the case was closed. The Home Office concluded their own investigations and were satisfied that both Y and Z were innocent victims of a malicious attack. Amongst the documents in File E — I can let you see them, I haven’t destroyed them — yet — was a letter, or the copy of a letter, addressed to your father. Attached to this was another, long letter. clearly meant to be copied and circulated, since it was accompanied by a list of addresses. These included two newspapers, your father’s publishers, a number of former members of special operations — and so on. There was another letter, addressed to Z, but I’ll come to that later. The letters involving your father were the set-up for a blackmail. The gist of the blackmail was this: that your father did not escape from the Germans — from the Château Martine. He succumbed under interrogation, betrayed several resistance units and the whereabouts and covers of three British agents operating in the extreme east of France; and in return for this the Germans “allowed him to escape”.’