by Bill Kitson
Eve translated this, and I could tell the arrangement met with his approval. ‘He also wants to know how you guessed that the man calling himself Lumsden is a Stasi agent,’ she said, adding, ‘Herr Jäger’s Christian name is Isaac, by the way.’
It was my turn to laugh. Eve frowned. ‘What did I say that was so funny?’
‘Given name or forename, but definitely not Christian name. If you’re Jewish you can’t have a Christian name.’
‘Oh gosh, I never thought of that.’
‘I don’t think it matters too much, as long as you don’t offer him a bacon sandwich.’
I was on the receiving end of one of Eve’s coldest stares. ‘Even I know better than that. Anyway, you haven’t answered his question.’
‘About Lumsden? Some years ago, I spent a couple of weeks behind the Iron Curtain on assignment. I remembered the way the men there dressed, and Lumsden’s outfit is very similar to that. Their fashions are light years behind those in the west.’
‘Herr Jäger’s clothes aren’t like that.’
‘He’s probably bought a new outfit since he escaped to the west.’
Eve repeated my remarks to Jäger, before asking me, ‘I still don’t understand why the Stasi have suddenly taken interest in Kershaw and what happened years ago.’
‘Presumably because they didn’t know who they were looking for. When Kershaw was active he would hardly have used his own name.’
Eve got confirmation from Jäger that my theory was correct, which she conveyed in a less than flattering manner. ‘You’re right, Adam. You really are on top form today. Have you been taking something?’
That was the last straw. It was time to get my own back. ‘It’s not that difficult. Picture it as if it was one of those puzzles we had as children; the ones where you have to join the dots. It’s ridiculously simple once you have a starting point.’
Chapter Nineteen
So far, Eve had been able to translate everything Herr Jäger told her effortlessly, but as I enquired about events in the past, the process became far more difficult. I thought the narration was proving to be an emotional challenge for him.
‘My sister Devorah was five years older than me. Our mother was a noted scientist, as was her brother. Both worked for a medical laboratory, seeking new cures and treatments for diseases and such ailments as cancer. By contrast, my father was a carpenter. More than simply a carpenter – he was a craftsman who made furniture such as that.’ Jäger pointed to the dresser.
‘We were not wealthy, contrary to what people might have assumed, because nobody was allowed wealth under the communist regime, except senior party officials, of course. Despite that, we were reasonably content. When Devorah was eighteen, our mother brought a young Polish student to our house for a meal. It was a public holiday, International Workers Day, to be precise, and she explained that the young man had nowhere to go. He was working part time at the laboratory while studying at the university. Even though I was only thirteen at the time, it was obvious that Devorah liked him, and that he had fallen in love with her at first sight. That was understandable; Devorah was a beautiful young lady.’
Jäger sighed at the memory and continued, ‘You’ve seen my niece, so you’ll have no difficulty appreciating this. She is very much like I remember her mother.’
He paused again, obviously upset by the thought of his sister’s untimely death. When he’d recovered his composure he continued, ‘I don’t think it was very long before they became lovers, but I believe it was some time later before my parents discovered that Devorah’s sweetheart was concealing an enormous secret. I remember there being a lot of whispered conversations and one or two disagreements, but I wasn’t party to them until long afterwards. As you’ve probably guessed,’ Jäger glanced at me as he spoke, ‘the Polish student was in fact neither Polish, nor a student. He was in fact an English secret agent named Andrew Kershaw. Quite how early on in their relationship Devorah discovered the truth I can’t say. If I had to guess, I’d say he probably told her after they started sleeping together. That wouldn’t have posed a danger to him, both because of her feelings for him, and the fact that she detested the communist regime and all it stood for. Let’s be fair, we all hated it – but in addition a secret such as that would have appealed to Devorah’s sense of humour and spirit of adventure.’
Jäger paused and I suggested we have a break. I brewed coffee for us and he returned to his narrative. ‘Eventually, we knew some painful decisions had to be made. Devorah was now pregnant, and neither she nor our parents were particularly keen on the idea of the child being brought up under a communist regime. That was subsidiary to the more obvious danger to all of us should Andrew’s true identity and occupation come to light. In some strange way my father and mother trusted Andrew to do the right thing by Devorah. In exchange for his promise that they would be married as soon as they reached safety, my father agreed to help them escape to West Berlin using the conduit Andrew had arranged. From there, they would eventually come to England.’
‘Do you know where the wedding took place, or where Chloe was born? The reason I ask is that she can’t find any record of her identity in England.’ I asked through Eve.
‘I’m not sure, but I believe both the wedding and her birth might have been taken place in West Berlin. That was where they crossed the border. I believe they might have deliberately concealed as much as they could, because I remember my father and mother talking. My father must have been in Andrew’s confidence. He told my mother that Andrew knew some terrible secrets, ones that placed all of us in dreadful danger, and if Andrew could find a way he would provide a means of escape for us too. I believe his knowledge was the reason they had to leave East Germany without delay.’
‘Their leaving had nothing to do with Devorah’s pregnancy then?’
‘Certainly not, because by the time they made a break for it she was very advanced.’ Jäger gestured over his stomach signifying the bump. ‘Besides which, the regime was more concerned with increasing the birth rate than whether couples had a marriage certificate.’
‘You mentioned the secrets Andrew had learned. Have you any idea what they were?’
‘No, but I can tell you this: even years later, his codename was at the top of the Stasi wanted list. The problem was that only a handful of people knew his real identity and they weren’t for talking.’
I waited for Jäger to say more, but nothing was forthcoming, which disappointed me. After a short silence, I decided to change the subject. ‘Tell Herr Jäger that we suspect Devorah might have died from some form of radiation poisoning, and ask if he has any idea how she could have contracted it.’
Eve translated my question, and as she was speaking I watched Jäger’s face for any reaction. I was rewarded by an expression of shock and horror. I waited impatiently for the response. Eve’s translation left me as much in the dark as before. ‘He can’t understand how, because his mother also died of radiation sickness, but she didn’t become ill until a long time after Devorah left. They blamed it on experiments she was carrying out at the laboratory because it was the only place she could have come in contact with radioactivity. However, that doesn't explain how Devorah could have become contaminated.’
A terrible thought crossed my mind, prompted by the unsolved case of a Bulgarian dissident writer named Georgi Markov, whose murder in 1978 was committed using a deadly toxin said to have been fired from an umbrella. ‘Do you know if your mother had any contact with Devorah after she left East Germany?’ Eve asked.
Jäger’s answer was immediate and it confirmed my suspicion. ‘It was nearly a year after Devorah and Andrew escaped that she was able to contact my mother using a false name and an address in West Berlin. The letters were delivered by a courier who had means of getting them across the border. That was how we knew she had given birth to a daughter.’
‘Did your mother reply?’
‘Yes, she handed her letters over to the same courier for him to take on
his return.’
I could see that Eve was beginning to share my misgivings, and Herr Jäger also looked perturbed.
‘Can you remember anything about that courier?’ I asked.
Before translating, Eve asked me, ‘Why is that important, Adam? Surely the courier was only like a postman?’
‘I’m not so sure, Eve. Ask if he can remember anything unusual about the courier, anything that looked odd or different.’
Jäger puzzled over my question for several seconds, until I saw his expression change as recall came to him. He replied, and something he said caused Eve to shrug. ‘The only thing he can remember is that the man always wore gloves, even in summer, and, like me, Herr Jäger wants to know why you think that might be important.’
‘I’ll explain shortly, but first I want him to answer another question. Where did his mother keep her stationery? I’m thinking particularly of her envelopes and writing paper.’
Eve stared at me before repeating the question. ‘He says it was always kept inside a desk inside her study, which was out of bounds to him. We’re still baffled as to why you’re asking.’
‘Because I believe I know how both his mother and sister became infected with radioactive poisoning, and I’m fairly certain that Andrew Kershaw also guessed the truth. If I’m right, and there’s no way of proving it one way or the other after all this time, I think the writing paper was deliberately impregnated with something radioactive. It’s quite possible the dose was small enough for it to be only transferable by touch. That would explain why the courier always wore gloves, because he knew the paper was poisoned. Ask him if anyone else read the letters or handled them apart from his mother.’
The answer was a firm negative. ‘My mother had been desperate for news of Devorah and her baby, and she was ecstatic when the first of the letters arrived. She read passages from them to my father and me before locking them in her desk. Father would suggest things for her to put into her reply, things that were safe if the letters fell into the wrong hands. He believed the regime could pounce at any moment.’
‘I think they chose a far more subtle way. The cruelly ironic part of all this is that the probable target was Andrew Kershaw, and he remained uninfected. Of course, as the East German authorities were unaware of the real identity of the man who held such dangerous secrets, they would also be ignorant of the fact that he had since died.’
As Eve explained my theory I could see the shocked expression on Jäger’s face, and the sadness the idea of his mother and sister being murdered brought.
‘I think that’s enough for one day,’ I told Eve. ‘I don’t know about anyone else but I’m ravenous, and I feel sure our guest must be just about all in. I suggest we leave things over until morning and then we can arrange for him to be formally introduced to his niece.’ I thought for a moment, then added, ‘One more thing.’ I walked over to the dresser and took out the locket, which I handed to Jäger. The relief and gratitude on our guest’s face was immediate.
Later, after we had eaten, we ensured he was comfortable in one of the spare rooms. ‘Please reassure him that the house is fitted with a burglar alarm and that he is quite safe here.’
We wished him goodnight and retired to our own room. Naturally, we had much to discuss before going to sleep. ‘What do you make of Herr Jäger and the things he told us?’ Eve asked.
‘His tale was very enlightening, as far as it went, but I don’t think it was by any means the whole story. In fact, I’m more intrigued by what he might have left out than what he actually told us.’
‘What do you think he could have omitted?’
‘I don’t think he mentioned much about how Andrew and Devorah got to West Berlin. That wasn’t easy to do, even before the Berlin Wall was erected. Also, he didn’t mention why Lumsden attacked him, and he didn’t say a word about Kershaw’s failure to get the rest of the family out of East Germany. All in all, I have one or two serious reservations about Herr Jäger.’
‘I think you’re going to have to explain all that – slowly.’
‘OK, here goes. Fact one, he didn’t get knocked unconscious today by accident or act of God. My guess is that Lumsden was trying to prevent Jäger from meeting up with David Kershaw. I think Lumsden wants to lay his hands on whatever he’s chasing, and because he doesn’t know that David is in London, when he saw Jäger headed for the Grange he assumed there was danger that they were going to meet and attacked Jäger to prevent it.’
‘If that’s correct, why on earth didn’t Lumsden kill him as he did with Bennett and Harfleur?’
‘Oh no, Eve, Lumsden didn’t kill them. He almost certainly clouted Michael over the head but he certainly didn’t murder the victims. In fact, my guess is that he would have been very annoyed by their deaths.’
‘What was that you said about Andrew Kershaw trying to get the rest of Devorah’s family out of East Germany?’
‘I don’t know for certain, but I think he might have tried to pay a ransom for them, but he got double-crossed. When that failed, and Debbie became ill, I reckon he lost interest in anything else, except possibly Chloe’s safety, hence his plea to David to return home to the Grange.’
‘You’ve made a whole load of assumptions there, Adam. Have you anything to back them up?’
‘The sale of two Bellini miniatures by Andrew, listed in Bennett’s ledger, raised my suspicions. What did they need the money for? Their lifestyle was hardly extravagant, unless one or other of them had a serious gambling addiction. I think those paintings were sold to raise that ransom. As for the other part, why did David suddenly decide to throw up a perfectly good career in the City to take up farming? I believe Andrew pleaded with him to come home and keep Chloe safe.’
‘OK, I’ll buy into all that as a possible theory, Adam, but you still haven’t told me why you distrust Herr Jäger.’
‘He was quite open about his parents and Devorah, but he said nothing about his own past. Not that I really expected him to say a lot about it, especially the part about his career in the Stasi.’
Eve stared at me in disbelief. ‘Why on earth do you think he was in the Stasi?’
‘He told us so. Not in so many words, I grant you, but he slipped up when he mentioned Lumsden. He told us Lumsden had been in the Hungarian secret police. How could he know that? It isn’t the sort of information that you put on your job application or talk about over a few steins in your local bierkeller. Only another agent would be able to discover that.’
‘It can be very frustrating living with you, Adam. It’s impossible to gauge what direction your mind is heading in half the time.’
I put my arms around her and began to caress her. ‘At the moment I’m thinking about ways to ease frustration.’
Eve wriggled closer. ‘Whose frustration, yours or mine?’
‘Both.’
Aware of the difficulties involving a kosher diet, we offered our guest toast and marmalade the following morning, which he happily accepted.
I suggested to Eve that Herr Jäger stay with us until he was recovered fully from the assault.
‘But he isn’t that badly injured,’ she protested.
‘I know that, but this way we could possibly discover far more from him and also keep an eye on him.’
Eve rolled her eyes; she’s good at that too. It was agreed, and shortly after breakfast I drove him to the B & B where he was staying for him to check-out and collect his luggage.
Chloe and Michael arrived later that morning, summoned by Eve’s phone call. She had only told them that we had fresh information regarding Chloe’s identity, revealing nothing about her relationship to the man she had met for the first time the previous day.
I let Eve perform the introduction. She began by telling the young couple, ‘This gentleman’s name is Herr Jäger, or to give his full name, Herr Isaac Jäger.’ She paused, and I could tell she was enjoying the drama, wringing every ounce of pleasure from it as she built up the suspense before making her grand reve
lation. ‘I ought to explain that the name Jäger is the German equivalent of the English word Hunter, which is what you told us was your mother’s maiden name. In other words, Chloe, Herr Jäger is your mother’s younger brother. Your uncle, to be precise.’
To describe the announcement as a bombshell would be a serious understatement. In the stunned silence that followed her words, Eve added, ‘Your mother was born Devorah Jäger. She lived in East Germany until she met your father, following which they fell in love and eloped. I believe the intention was for the other members of the family to follow her to the West, but they didn’t make it. I feel sure you will want to talk to your uncle at length, and I will be happy to act as interpreter for you.’
Chloe’s eyes widened and I could see she was close to tears. ‘My mother had a brother?’ When she had recovered slightly she asked Eve, ‘What is the German word for uncle?’
I saw Jäger’s expression change on hearing Chloe’s final word, to a semblance of a smile, anticipating Eve’s response. ‘It’s virtually the same,’ Eve told her, ‘The word is onkel.’
‘Then would you tell my Onkel Isaac that I am extremely happy to meet him and that I would love to hear anything he can tell me about my mother.’
‘Of course I will.’ Eve rattled off a volley of German. It was easy to see that the emotion of the meeting was affecting Jäger as deeply as it was his niece. He reached out and took Chloe’s hands, holding them in his as he told her, via Eve, ‘I was only a boy when Devorah left home with your father, but I remember her as vividly if it happened yesterday. She was a very beautiful young woman, but even if my memory has faded over the years, I would still be able to see her clearly, for you are exactly like her.’
‘I would love to hear all you can tell me about her and the other members of my ... er ... our family.’
‘To tell you everything would take a lifetime, but I will do the best I can, as far as my memory will allow.’