"No. "Mina shook her head and got a spasm of dizziness. She clutched at Leni. "It's all right… I have to take pills… They make me… No, they don't know about me. Leni, please don't tell anybody. Not anybody."
"Of course, of course." Keeping one arm around Mina 's shoulders, she poured them both more vodka. "I won't tell. But now they wouldn't make any trouble. Your coming was too long ago. For Gustavto be where he is, it shows they've forgotten it, theywant to forget it. "
"I don't know… there was another man… Walter… Walter somebody… He got very important and they ruined him."
"Walter Dürr. That was years ago. He had an affair with the daughter of another member and Frau Ulbrichtbroke him. But that was morality, Mina; youwere political – darling Mina who is the least political thing I have ever met!" She laughed, found they had both finished their drinks, and poured more.
But Mina would not be appeased. "When I first came over, they did things… voices on the telephone, saying I was a traitor and they would break my hands… messages that were wrong, that sent my luggage to somewhere else or madepeople believe I had cancelled a recital… they followed me, I know, they let me see…"
"You never told us. Did you tell the police?"
"No. No, I was afraid they would think I was a crazy woman and send me back. "
Leni had been broadcasting from London since wartime days and had listened to literally thousands of stories from refugees and defectors. She knew all about the techniques of the secret police and secret services, the little touches to keep you walking in fear, isolated and suspecting your own sanity. Cruelty doesn't change, only the politics behind it.
"Oh my poor Mina…"
"So you won't tell anybody you've seen me?"
"Of course not. But do you feel safe now? Do you have a new name?"
"Yes,"Mina said slowly. "I think I feel safe now, seeing you. I have a new name.
"Don't tell me if you don't want to. But Mina – write to me sometimes, please? I will give you my address…"
Gradually the gloom and the vodka seeped away, and the memories began. They giggled like schoolgirls at incidents of more than twenty years ago, at characters now dead, retired or gone home to the richer pickings of West German radio stations. Leni was a great mimic, bringing back every voice in every accent until, when the bottle was finished, they were both light-hearted and weeping with laughter.
Then Leni had the idea."Mina -play something for me!"
"Oh no. No, I can't."
"You must. Just for me, only for me…"
"But – you've seen my hand." Everybody saw her hand, but she would have mentioned it to nobody but Leni.
"Just one thing, one little Kinderszene…"
They rushed along the basement corridors, searching for a studio with a piano, persuading a reluctant engineer to take a recording without worrying too much about his beloved 'balance'.
In fact, at that time of day and after that amount of alcohol, her hands were probably at the best they could be. And though the piano was tuned too hard, with Leni watching enrapturedit was easy to turn back the years and forgive herself the little errors and awkwardnesses she knew would come. She took a deep breath and laid her tired old hands on the keyboard.
Chapter 6
Maxim lived in a gloomy first-floor flat in a late Victorian terrace on the edge of Camden Town. His landlady was a musty old widow who constantly threatened that if They didn't Do Something About It, she was going to sell up and go and live with her son in New Zealand. But it was too late, whatever New Zealand might think, and on her worst days she must have known it. The house had been let go too far: just too many years of patching instead of repairing, so that anybody coming in would have had to borrow the value of the house over again to pay for new woodwork, plumbing, wiring and the ripping out of the flimsy partitions and extra gas meters that marked out each of the flats. And anybody who could borrow that sort of money wouldn't have spent it on that sort of house anyway.
He took a can of lager from the refrigerator and sat down at the typewriter that lived on the window end of the table. It was a light and slightly flimsy portable that had belonged to Jenny. Almost all the things around him had once been hers or presents from her. In ten years of marriage, and eight different homes, they had bought only small, movable things. One day they would begin to wear out and need replacing. Would he mind that? – or by then wouldn't he care?
He wound in a piece of paper and began typing.
GEORGE HARBINGER
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
NO COPY
From Major H. R. Maxim.
1 The first mention appeared in both Die Welt and Frankfurter Allgemeineon the Monday, in a manner which suggests that the Sunday papers carried a full story. The embassy files no Sunday papers. There werefollow-up stories on the Tuesday, and Wednesday, but nothing from then to the end of the month, which is as far as I checked.
2 Two people died of gunshot wounds on the Friday night in Bad Schwar/endorn.
3 The man was Alfons Hochhauser,aged 59, the town Standesbeamte(registrar). A widower for thirteen years. One son, one daughter, both married.
4 The woman ('Mrs Howard') carried a driving licence identifying her as Frau Gertrude Sailer, aged 46, with an address in Oldenburg. The licence was a forgery done with a stolen blank. No other identity has been suggested.
5 The only mention of a third person was that the police were still investigating a report that a 'young man' had been seen running across the park soon after the shooting. The impression given is that the police are not taking this very seriously (but see 8 below).
6 Wounds:Hochhauserhad four (Die Welt) or five(FAZ)bullet wounds, including one in the head which must have been immediately fatal. The woman had three bullet wounds, all in her body.
7 Guns: he had a Mauser 1910 self-loader in 7.65 mm calibre. She had a 'Spanish revolver' in.38 Special calibre, which is the same as the gun Blagg had. No mention was made of how many shots each gun had fired.
8 This could be important, as could the number of wounds Hochhauseractually received. If it turned out that Mrs Howard had fired fewer shots than Hochhauserhad wounds, it obviously proves there was a third pistol, and person, involved.
9 The same would be true if the forensic laboratory could prove that one or more of the.38 Special bullets was not fired from Mrs Howard's gun.
Maxim took out the page and read it over while he drank the last of the lager. George would snort and mutter at all that stuff about bullets, but it could be crucial. He wound in a fresh sheet and typed on.
10 It was reported that the bodies had not been robbed.
11 The forged driving licence aroused suspicions of a terrorist link, but by the time the story was dropped this appeared to have been discounted and the investigation was in the hands of a public prosecutor from Paderborn.
12 It seemed that a Sunday newspaper had speculated that the shootings could have been a duel, arising out of a love affair the two must have been having. Alternatively, it was suggested that as keeper of the town records he could have known her true identity and something about her past and have been blackmailing her. There was no speculation about a third party or any international aspect.
13 Hochhauser'spast: he was born locally and worked for the town since 1951. During the war he was a non-commissioned clerk in the Luftwaffe He then worked for the Control Commission for three years. Neighbours say he was diligent and rather aloof, especially since his wife's death.
14 Both papers printed the driving licence photograph of Mrs Howard/Sailer, so there must be a possibility that somebody will come forward with a new identification.
15 There was no mention of the car.
And that was about it. He signed the second page Harry, folded them up and put them in his hip pocket. Then he went through to the tiny kitchen and took out another lager and tried to get interested in the idea of making dinner.