Levianski shook his head. 'You do not understand. The Jews have been well treated here because for hundreds of years they have performed many useful services. But never, never, have they sought to interfere in politics. To have done so would have been to invite an end to the tolerance with which they are regarded. It is true that we have come to think of ourselves as Hungarians, and that financially we run the country. But the fact remains that the Hungarians still look on us only as guests here. And the guest in a man's house does not presume to tell him how to run it.'
They talked on for another half-hour; but it was already clear to Gregory that the Jews of Pest were unlikely to contribute anything worth while towards the downfall of Hitler. Despite their numbers and immense financial resources, the fatalism which was tied like a millstone round the neck of their race weighed them down so heavily that they were incapable of standing up in defence of their rights as human beings; or even of using such power as they had in an organized attempt to protect themselves from future massacre. The best that could be hoped from them was that in devious ways they would hamper the Hungarian war effort and, should a movement for an independent peace arise, give it their backing.
Nevertheless, Leon Levianski showed himself personally to be a courageous man; for he said to Gregory before they parted: 'These endeavours of yours to find a way to bring about peace are most praiseworthy; the more so as making them may easily bring you. into danger. I am sure you would not willingly involve me in trouble with the police. But, if, they get after you and you can evade them for a few hours, come to my apartment over the shop. I could hide you there for a time, until you could make a plan for getting safely out of the country.'
Gregory thanked him for his generous offer. They then shook hands firmly and went their separate ways through the August dusk. As Gregory walked back to the Vadaszkürt he decided rather glumly that there now seemed little hope of his being able to take a favourable report back to London. His talk with Levianski had reinforced his own opinion formed that morning, that the Hungarian people were as yet by no means war weary, and also revealed the fact that even if they had been it would not have made much difference, as the issue of Hungary's continuing in the war lay entirely with the aristocracy. Naturally, he intended to see and sound Sir Pellinore's friends, but since the governing class were not subject to pressure from the masses it seemed unlikely that they would be willing to abandon the pro Nazi policy which they had evidently decided offered the best prospect of preserving their wealth and estates. And during the past fortnight the Russian situation, worry over which had been the origin of his mission, had been going from bad to worse.
He could only console himself a little with the thought that, anyhow, a fortnight's holiday in Budapest with good food and good cheer to be had for the asking would be a most pleasant change after the dreariness of London. As he entered the hall of the hotel, he was thinking that for dinner he would order that famous Hungarian dish, chicken stewed with rice and red peppers. He was not expecting any letters so would have walked straight through had not one of the porters called to him from behind the desk, 'Excuse me, sir!'
When he crossed to the desk the man handed him back his passport and with it a cheap looking envelope addressed to M. le Commandant Tavenier. Tearing the envelope open, he gave a swift glance at the single sheet of paper that it contained. It was a typed note from the French Consul General to the effect that information having been received from the police of M. le Commandant Tavenier's arrival in Budapest, it was requested that within twenty-four hours he would attend at 17. Fo-utca in order that his stay in the Hungarian capital might be regularized.
This was something for which Gregory had not bargained. No doubt it was only a routine matter; but all the same he had an uneasy feeling that having to make his number with the Vichy authorities might, sooner or later, land him in just the sort of tricky situation he was very anxious to avoid.
A Sinister Figure
Chapter 6
On the following morning Gregory took a cab across the river to 17. Fo-utca and handed the porter at the door the summons he had received. The porter was a Hungarian and after a glance at the letter announced its bearer in bad French over a house telephone to some invisible person. He then showed Gregory into a small sunless room. It was furnished with the sparse economy typical of French officialdom, and occupied only by a dark-haired middle-aged woman. With a cigarette dangling from her lower lip she was thumbing through some dog-eared papers on the narrow desk before her. As he came into the room she gestured towards a wooden bench against one wall, then took no further notice of him.
After sitting there for ten minutes his patience began to wear thin, and he was just about to demand that she did something about him, when a door behind her opened and over her head a tall man gave him a swift scrutiny.
Returning the glance, Gregory was far from favourably impressed by the man's appearance. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a stiff white collar, out of which arose a scrawny neck, surmounted by a hollow cheeked face, a long narrow nose, eyes with liverish pouches beneath them and an almost bald head, that together gave him some resemblance to a vulture. With a slight inclination of his bony skull, this sinister looking individual said:
'Monsieur le Commandant, my name is Cochefert. I regret to have had to trouble you to come here, but there are just a few formalities… Please to come in.'
Gregory followed him into a somewhat larger but equally bleak room. Monsieur Cochefert gave him a hard chair and sat down in another behind a bare table piled high with bundles of documents. Drawing a printed form towards him and picking up an old fashioned steel nibbed pen, he asked:
'May I have the object of your visit to Budapest?'
Had Gregory been less experienced in such matters he would have been tempted to reply, 'We are not on French soil, so you have no authority here. My business has nothing to do with you, and you can go to the devil.' But he was much too old a hand needlessly to antagonize any official; so, with pleasant memories of the charming and helpful Diana, he said quite amiably:
'I own a truffle farm in Perigord and I have come here to investigate the possibility of supplying Hungarian" foie-gras makers with truffles after the war.'
'Indeed!' Cochefert raised eyebrows having so few hairs in them that they were only just perceptible. 'That sounds a idea. The pate made here is excellent, but could be much improved by the introduction of truffles.' As he made a note on the form, Gregory saw that it already had on it Tavenier's home address and other particulars; so the Hungarian police must have given the French Consulate a sight of his passport. To give substance to his cover story, he said:
'As a matter of fact, even if I had not had the note asking me to call here I should have done so to ask if I could be supplied with a list of the names and addresses of the principal foie-gras manufacturers.'
'Strictly speaking, that is a matter for our Commercial Attaché at the Embassy, the Frenchman replied, 'but I will telephone him and ask for a list to be sent to you.'
Gregory made a little bow. 'Monsieur is most kind.'
'It is a pleasure. May I ask how long you intend to stay in Budapest?'
'For about a fortnight.'
'Good. I see that you obtained your visa for Hungary in Switzerland; so I take it you broke your journey there?'
T have been living there for the past three months. Fortunately I am fairly well off and investments that I have there enable me to do so in reasonable comfort. I find it much more congenial than France, now that our poor country has fallen into such a sad state.'