Runaways

by Carolyn McCrae

  “No I didn’t mean you were silly to use it, I mean the way people think of spying as somehow glamorous or clever, something that involves secretive meetings in dark alleys, a smoky black and white world where no one trusts anyone and killing is an every day activity. Spying isn’t like that for the most part. Secret operations, covert operations, dirty tricks, doing things that need to be done but which are, perhaps, a little difficult to justify. If that is ‘spying’ then yes, I was a spy.”

  “Have you ever killed anyone David? Have you ever taken a gun or a knife and killed someone?”

  “No, Edie, I have never done that. My work was far less adventurous.”

  “Have you ever told anyone to kill someone?”

  “No, though that isn’t to say that none of my team ever killed anyone, I’m sure they did, but we have just gone through a long and dirty period of war. We have been at war since 1914, never think that the 20s and 30s were ‘peace’.”

  “You sound very bitter, do you want to tell me about it?”

  “No, Edie, I don’t want to tell you but I must. Things are happening that I cannot control and which may rebound on me, us, personally. I shouldn’t have married you, I shouldn’t have involved you.”

  “Please don’t say that. I am your wife and have thought of myself as that for many years.” When David said nothing for several minutes Edie prompted him “I’m listening.”

  “In 1920 I was given a task. I had to liaise with a man in Vienna. Münz had employed a number of young people who he hoped would be useful, in time. He had great hopes of three of his recruits but it soon became obvious to him that it would be one of them, a man called Max, who would be the most useful. He was a chameleon, he could be an aristocrat amongst aristocrats, a labourer amongst labourers or an intellectual amongst intellectuals. He had proved himself to be brave, if not foolhardy. Münz thought he would be perfect for my team of fishermen.”

  “Fishermen?”

  “The job they were to be groomed for was exciting and dangerous. We had a good network of informants but we needed more than information. The fishermen were to travel around middle Europe locating valuable artefacts and securing them from the inevitable ravages of a Nazi invasion. They were required to steal and appropriate beautiful and valuable objects so these could be returned to their rightful owners after the war. And if, after that war, they weren’t able to return the goods to their rightful owners, they would be valuable additions to the inventories of museums and appropriate accessories to Ministerial offices. They had to employ improvisation and imagination only where it was required for that job. If they survived they survived, if you didn’t there were plenty of others to take your place. Max drove around Europe in a car with several compartments that even the most stringent of searches could not find. The border guards and customs officers knew him and believed his cover; that he was a journalist. He was always polite and patient with them, his command of language and dialect allowed him to joke in a relaxed fashion when they, with copious apologies about how unnecessary it was, searched his car. Towards the end of 1938 I began to suspect Max was not being entirely accurate in the inventories of contraband. I had carefully logged the results of each of Max’ trips and both the volume and the value were markedly reduced. But since he was one of a dwindling band and we had little alternative it was allowed. Max continued his trips backwards and forwards across the channel until the end of April 1940 when his final trip was only completed by travelling south to Spain and into Portugal. In the secret compartments of his Daimler were several rolled up canvasses, the deeds to many properties and several large bags of jewellery. He became a liaison officer’, an all encompassing term that allowed him flexibility to wear different uniforms, be different nationalities, live different lives, as it suited us.

  “Is this Max still alive?”

  “He is.”

  David saw Edie looking round at the pictures on the wall.

  “They aren’t prints are they?”

  “No.”

  “They’re originals?”

  “Yes.”

  “They must be worth thousands.”

  “They are.”

  “But they’re not yours?”

  “In a way. In a way there is no one with a better claim.”

  They sat quietly while Edie wondered what her husband really meant.

  “By the end of the war there were only two of my fishermen surviving. Only Max and Vijay were left. I have told you more than I meant to of Max, the other Vijay, is a …” He paused, trying to find the right word, “an enigma.”

  “You don’t sound particularly fond of them.”

  “Fondness doesn’t come into it. They were recruited to do a job. It was mine to keep them under control. It was inevitable that, doing what they did, they would keep some of the merchandise for their own use. It wasn’t my job to stop them, that would have been impossible, but it was my responsibility to ensure that any personal gain they made was put to good use. I have to keep contact with them, their lives have moved on, the war is over, but I have to keep them true to the unwritten agreement. They can only do good with the illicit gains. They had done well, they had saved much that would have been destroyed, they have made post-war reconstruction possible for so many people. They were paid next to nothing for the risks they took, it was only fair that they had something. If it hadn’t been agreed formally they would probably have taken even more than they did. I don’t particularly like them but I must keep in contact with them, I must still control their actions as I have for 20 years or more.”

  “So a peaceful retirement is not on the agenda?”

  They smiled at each other, each understanding what they were asking of the other.

  “The fishermen met on the third Friday of every month at Rules Restaurant in Covent Garden. It was not a social event, the meetings were intended to operate checks and controls on the individuals, to keep them under some control.”

  “You talk in the past tense.”

  “Max for complicated reasons married my sister, you remember Elizabeth? She couldn’t cope when she was left widowed whilst pregnant and I’m afraid I suggested a marriage of convenience. They moved to Liverpool.”

  David noticed the change in Edie immediately. She had as little belief in coincidence as David did.

  “Liverpool?” she asked with heavy understanding in her voice.

  He looked at her. It was a critical moment. If he lied or prevaricated she would know and their marriage would be damaged. He was not going to risk that.

  “Yes. The firm that Arnold Donaldson worked for became available. I arranged for Max to buy it, he was well qualified to run such an organisation and there was a good man there, Edward Mottram, who would assist him.”

  “And you.”

  “Indeed, and me. I do not like Arnold Donaldson. I did not like his father, George, who I knew better. George was a Victorian man out of his time, he kept mistresses and had children he never recognised and who didn’t recognise him. Arnold has inherited that trait from his father. I knew he would not make our daughter a good husband. He would only make her unhappy. I wanted someone over whom I had some control to be near to keep an eye out for her and report to me any problems she may have that I could assist with. From a distance you understand. I would never make myself known to her.”

  Edie began to realise the extent of the concern David had had for her over the years. He had never forgotten her. “Thank you.” she said “Thank you for doing those things and thank you for telling me.”

  “We must have no secrets, my dear, there are too many secrets in the world.”

  “Secrets are only born out of unhappiness and fear. We have no need for them.”

  “George was a profiteer who made a great deal of money out of the war which he proceeded to give away in the hope that he would receive an honour in recognition. I made sure he didn’t but if Max is faithful to his promise he shall have one.”

  “Is that in your gift?”


  “I am in a position to block unsuitable appointments.”

  “Max is settling into his new life in Liverpool, becoming a pillar of the community and, apart from time he insists on spending in France working with the displaced persons camps, he is manageable. I cannot fault the way he has looked after Elizabeth.”

  “How lucky she is to have him.”

  “Max knows which side his bread is buttered. If he cooperates he has a comfortable life with a knighthood for ‘services to the community’…”

  “If he doesn’t?”

  “Unfortunately, my dear, there are ways and means of evening things out in the end.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It is a harsh world, if he breaks his side of the bargain then we break ours, he would no longer be protected, events in his past would come into the open, he would be faced with exposure and prosecution. There would be powerful organisations who would be very glad to know where some of the merchandise they thought was theirs had found a home.”

  “That is a lot to hold over someone’s head.” Edie was trying to grasp the enormity of what David was saying. “You could have him eliminated?”

  “You’ve been reading too many novels, my dear, we don’t ‘eliminate’ we ‘deal with’.”

  “But the result is the same?”

  “Not always, but Max will know the likely consequences of breaking the bargain. He knows he is safe, at least while he is looking after Elizabeth.”

  They were quiet for a time. David wondered if he had broken too many of Edie’s illusions and that perhaps he shouldn’t have told her so much. But she had to know enough and it was best to tell her all at once. There was nothing worse, he thought, than a slow drip of information. There were too many opportunities for confusion. Tell Edie everything, then he could relax.

  “You said you had two surviving fishermen. What of the other one?”

  “Vijay? He had no scruples, nothing to hold him in check. He had a chip on his shoulder against the world…”

  “And against you?”

  “Undoubtedly. You see I made sure he left the country with far less than he imagined. He left at the time of partition in his country, he was originally from India, and when he left he thought he had trunks of silver and jewels, paintings and dollars. He didn’t. I think perhaps, one day, he will turn up again and try to take what he will probably believe should be his. It is likely he will try to wreak some kind of revenge for being tricked.”

  “Are you in any danger?”

  “So long as I have control of Max and Vijay is nowhere to be seen then you and I and our daughter and our daughter’s children are all safe. But you see I have to keep looking for him. It is very important to me to find him, make sure he cannot harm anyone that is dear to me. It is the only thing I can do. I have tried to keep Alicia safe.”

  “Surely Vijay wouldn’t hurt Alicia?”

  “He would use her to hurt me.”

  “And me, now we’re married?”

  “Of course. I’m so sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry? I always knew loving you would not be the easiest way through life.” She stood up from her chair and walked over to plant a kiss in the middle of her husband’s forehead.

  He put out his hand to hold hers, he squeezed it and looked into her loving face. “I am so incredibly lucky.”

  Edie walked over to the cabinet and poured some malt whisky into her husband’s tumbler, and a thimbleful for her in a similar glass.

  “Tell me more about Vijay?”

  “I didn’t recruit him, I wouldn’t have recruited him because I did not trust him at the outset and I have never trusted him. It was the nature of the role that traditionally trustworthy people would have been unsuitable…”

  “Hence Max.”

  “Exactly. But I knew where I stood with Max. I understood him. But I neither knew nor understood Vijay. I never believed the account Vijay had given of his life. I never understood how he managed to travel across Europe for his appearance was distinctive. With his dark skin and deep brown eyes, and black hair he could never melt into the background as a north European. He should always have been caught, he should never have been able to cross borders as he did. But he had always managed it. Sometimes he was Portuguese, sometimes Brazilian, sometimes Persian, He held various passports that would allow him to be anything other than the South African Indian lawyer he claimed to be.”

  “He was a lawyer too?”

  “He was, that was the one thing I could believe about him. But his life, the account he gave was, to my mind, literally incredible. He claimed to have been born in Bombay of a comfortable merchant family. In 1896 his family had paid a not inconsiderable sum to send him, first class, to South Africa equipped with a complete western wardrobe and a considerable amount of gold. In Johannesburg he had always worn western suits, with a pristine white shirt with starched collar and dark tie. He was, to all appearances, a successful barrister. He claimed to have enjoyed his life in South Africa in the early 1900s despite increasing complaints about the petty restrictions he experienced because of his colour. With his money, good looks and impeccable English manners and speaking voice, no door should have been shut to him. He felt he should have mixed freely with all races and, although he married the daughter of a fellow Indian, he undoubtedly kept black mistresses. It was what was done by well-to-do middle class people at the time. He cultivated an ability to speak, act and write exactly as the ruling classes wanted. After the Great War the limitations on being an Indian in South Africa became more frustrating to him. After years of being the equal of whites increasingly incidents occurred that made him conscious, and almost ashamed, of his race. He was ejected from a first class carriage in a train despite being respectably dressed and in possession of the correct ticket, the cases he was given were increasingly insignificant. By 1929 he knew he had to leave South Africa and he sailed to London.”

  “It must have been very difficult for him.”

  “Difficult certainly, but I’m sure he never ran away from confrontation.”

  “What brought him into your group of fishermen?”

  “He began by writing letters to the newspapers. They were clever and articulate. They came to the notice of my superiors.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Vijay Thakersey. He was well educated, he lived comfortably and had an exceptional knowledge of, and interest in, western culture. He was a rare being and it was felt there had to be a use for such a person so he was recruited.”

  “You don’t sound as if he would have been your choice.”

  “No. As a fisherman Vijay was undoubtedly a success, but he was a loose cannon.”

  Edie was interested in the different ways that David talked Vijay and Max. “You respected Max didn’t you?”

  “I suppose I did.”

  “But you were afraid of Vijay.”

  “Afraid? No I don’t think ‘afraid’ is the right word. I mistrusted him, and that was everything to do with his character and nothing to do with his race. He was a nasty piece of work.”

  “In the middle of the summer last year, just as India was granted independence and the subcontinent was partitioned Vijay disappeared. He did not attend the meeting on 15th August. We searched his house, it was empty; his bank accounts were closed. We tracked him down when his ship docked at Aden. The contents of his trunks in the hold were replaced with worthless linen, his cabin was searched and anything of value removed. He would have had sufficient to give him a good life but it would have been nothing like the riches he was expecting. He was followed whilst on the boat and in Bombay, but then he disappeared. It was the time of Indian partition, the country was in complete chaos. We do not know what has become of him.”

  “And he knew everything.”

  “And everybody.”

  “Have you heard from his since?”

  “No. I am, we are, vulnerable to Mr Thakersey. I have no idea where he is or what he has done. He is a lo
ose end and I don’t like loose ends. We haven’t heard from him for months now, perhaps he just wanted a life of his own in India, perhaps he had returned during partition and had lost his life, along with the millions of others.”

  “Perhaps he’s just biding his time.”

  They sat together in silence for some while. Eventually Edie broke interrupted her husband’s thoughts. “I am very pleased I am Mrs David McKennah.”

  “I hope so. There is nothing to stop us being together now.”

  “Not even your fishermen.”

  “What do you know about my fishermen?” She knew he was testing her.

  “Absolutely nothing, my dear, absolutely nothing. So tell me about Elizabeth and Max, your sister and her husband.”

  Chapter Ten

  The bar of the White Hart was packed on the Sunday evening in the late summer of 1940. There were people drinking because they were happy to be alive and others trying to forget someone who wasn’t.

  Elizabeth sat quietly, unnoticed and alone at a corner table. She was staring into the half pint of beer that she had had in her hands for half an hour. She glanced at her watch and realised it wasn’t yet 9 o’clock. He wasn’t very late. She wanted so much to see him but she knew he wasn’t coming. She knew he was dead.

  She knew it as much as she knew she was pregnant with his child.

  The large clock on the wall moved slowly. The next time she looked the minute hand had moved barely five times.

  He would have been on time if he could. But he couldn’t. She just knew it.

  Any tiny hope she may have harboured was wiped out when she saw her brother standing in the door with a look on his face that told her everything. David walked over and sat opposite her without saying a word.

  “It’s Jim.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s bought it.”

  “I know.”

  “How could you?”

  “I knew the minute he was a minute late.”

  “There’s worse.”

  “What could be worse?”

  “Mum.”

  “What about Mum?”

  “There was an air raid. Yesterday. Last night. Crystal Palace was hit. Mum. She’s gone. It was a direct hit. She wouldn’t have known anything.”