‘But it fits, doesn’t it?’ said Vaughan.
Astley nodded.
‘Yes, I’ll admit that,’ agreed Sansom.
‘So, do you have any files on people associated with the Ring of Iron?’ asked Vaughan.
‘Or any subversive activity from early last year? I mean, are there photographs, or reports on suspicious people? How does it work?’
Astley cleared his throat. ‘All of those things. We write up incidents, and we have some photographs. Of people we arrest, obviously, but also of suspects. The quality isn’t always very good, but we should definitely have another look through everything. It may be that this tailor crops up. Who knows? It’s got to be worth a bit of graft through old files.’
Tanner saw Vaughan glance at his watch. ‘Go, Alex,’ he said. ‘I mean it. I can do this.’
‘I’m afraid I’m needed in GHQ shortly,’ said Sansom.
‘I can stick around for a bit,’ said Astley. ‘I’ll show you what we’ve got.’
Vaughan gave an appreciative smile. ‘Well, thanks. I, er, owe you both.’
‘After you,’ said Astley, opening the door for Tanner. ‘We keep the files locked in a separate room.’ He led him along the corridor to a small, narrow room with shelving from floor to ceiling against two walls, filled with endless box files and card folders, and a small desk at the far end beneath a single window. ‘Sorry it’s a bit cramped.’
It wasn’t just cramped, but hot as well – Tanner immediately felt a line of sweat run down his back.
‘Let’s look up personal files first,’ said Astley, ‘and see if we’ve got anything on him. He’s called Moussa, you say?’
‘Yes, Gyasi Moussa. Born May 1902, I think he said.’
‘They should be filed alphabetically,’ said Astley. He ran his fingers along a shelf, then pulled one out, looked at it, pushed it back. ‘Ah, here’s M.’ He looked through each. ‘Mohammed, Mohmet, Mustafa, Myoti. No Moussa.’
‘What about reports?’
‘How far should we go back?’
‘When did the Italians kick off? June ’40, wasn’t it? How about then?’
‘All right. There’s a lot of them.’
‘I’m in no hurry.’
Astley pulled down two box files, one each for June and July 1940, and together they began to look through them, searching for any references to either Moussa or the Ring of Iron. Tanner scanned reams of thin paper, most with typed reports but some in pen or even pencil. Most were accounts of suspicious behaviour – people acting oddly or furtively.
‘Usually there’s nothing to it,’ said Astley. ‘It’s often sex related.’
Tanner chuckled. ‘Really?’
‘Troops are starved of it in the desert. They get to Cairo on leave and hit the brothels.’
‘I know all about that,’ grinned Tanner. ‘But most of the blokes I know aren’t exactly embarrassed about it.’
‘No, but you do get shy ones. A lot of young men have never been with a woman before so they start acting furtively, hoping no one they know will spot them.’
‘Actually, now you mention it, I can think of a few lads like that.’
‘But it’s mostly officers rather than enlisted men,’ added Astley. ‘Officers, of course, are not supposed to use brothels – or, at least, certainly not those frequented by ORs. It’s quite absurd that we continue with this pretence that no proper gentleman would ever consort with a prostitute.’
‘There’s one here,’ said Tanner, reading through one particular report. ‘Suspect acting suspiciously, constantly glancing behind him. Then there’s a line saying, “Suspect is Lieutenant Milner, RASC, known to have visited Betty Borango.”’
‘Ah, yes, Betty,’ said Astley. ‘She’s Sudanese. The words “buxom” and “Betty” go together very neatly. You know, we once paid her to have sex with Italian prisoners.’
‘Really? How was that?’
‘These half-dozen Wops had promised to co-operate fully but only if they could have a woman. Sammy was asked to find six prostitutes for these men so he went to Betty. She offered to see to the lot. Her bill was exorbitant.’
Tanner laughed. ‘Quite a lady.’
‘Yes. She’s a mercenary, all right. She’ll do anything for money – but, actually, she’s quite likeable. Bright and with a good sense of humour.’
‘But not someone to—’
‘God no. Probably riddled with VD. Actually, I think Sammy felt a bit funny about acting the pimp. We’ve often wondered what the cost went down as in the army books.’
Tanner chuckled again. ‘I never knew Field Security work could be such a good laugh.’
‘Oh, it’s pretty tedious and sordid at times, but we like to think we do a good job.’
The files were fatter with every passing month. For March 1941 there were several reports of young Egyptian Army officers having been spotted visiting General Pasha El Masri, deposed by now as chief of staff of the Egyptian Army, but still living quite openly.
‘Tell me,’ said Tanner, as he pored over one report after another about disaffection within the Egyptian armed forces, ‘how bad was it? I was out here in early ’41 but at the front we knew nothing of this.’
‘You have to remember,’ said Astley, ‘that we’d had all that success against the Italians and then Rommel arrived. Suddenly we were being thrown back again. Then lots of troops were withdrawn to Greece and that made the situation worse.’
‘I was one of those. Our battalion got out there, marched inland and then fell back. It was bloody terrible. One of the worst times I can remember.’
‘Well, of course, we were following what was going on in Greece. Our forces were spread too thinly. There were signs of agitation in Palestine, Iraq and Iran. Rommel’s Afrika Korps seemed an impressive foe and, of course, the Luftwaffe and Regia Aeronautica had air superiority. From where we were standing, here in Cairo, it was all looking pretty damn bleak, I can tell you. What had begun as rumblings within the Egyptian armed forces was becoming a major threat. We honestly believed they would have risen up the moment the signal was given.’
‘Jesus,’ said Tanner. ‘I had no idea.’
‘The mistake had been showing El Masri our plans when he was chief of staff. We all knew he was pro-Axis but, of course, once we knew he was passing on information to the enemy he had to go. But his sacking was at our insistence and the Egyptians didn’t like that. Egypt is not officially a British vassal state, and the army didn’t take kindly to having one of their senior generals forced out by us. It was a damned tricky situation, because we couldn’t be seen to be making the matter worse by flinging him in jail, but at the same time, he was becoming a focus for anti-British sentiment with the Egyptian armed forces, and beyond.’
‘How dangerous was the threat?’
Astley thought for a moment. ‘That I don’t know. We interned El Masri eventually, and as Rommel ran out of steam and the desert war stabilized, the fire went out of the dissidents and everything calmed down again. As the summer wore on, Syria fell, the Iraq uprising was quashed, then the one in Iran.’
Tanner leafed through more papers, then saw a report written by ‘Major Hussein’ in which he suggested the Ring of Iron was formed of a number of cells: ‘They work in cells like the Communists,’ he had written, ‘with each member knowing only the other members of his cell.’
Tanner passed it to Astley. ‘Major Hussein is a childhood friend of Sammy’s,’ he said. ‘He’s in the Egyptian Army. He wants us out of Egypt too, but is sensible enough to realize it’ll be a damn sight worse under the Axis. Islam is also a Semitic religion. Ultimately the Nazis would want to be free of Muslims as much as Jews.’
A moment later, Tanner came across a report of a conversation picked up at the Central Telephone Exchange. As he read it, his heartbeat quickened.
Bernard: ‘I’ve just listened to the conversation between an Egyptian officer and his father. The officer was calling from the Egyptian Officers Club in Zamale
k. The son wanted money to pay his mess bill, but the father would not give him any unless he lands him a British Army contract for making uniforms. Let me read back to you what the father says: “In your own interests you would do better to get that contract instead of involving yourself in crazy plots that are bound to fail.”’
Kirk: ‘Did you get their names?’
Bernard: ‘Only that of the son, but presumably the father’s is the same.’
Kirk: ‘What is it?’
Moussa. The name was Moussa.
8
Vaughan reached the Union Club ten minutes late, having hurried back to his flat, washed and changed into a fresh shirt and trousers. He had then hurried across the river to Gezira and the Union Club, conscious that he was late, which was never a good thing on a first date, but also aware that it was a bad idea to hurry anywhere in Cairo in August. So, it was with some relief that on reaching the Union he discovered Tanja had not arrived ahead of him. Finding a free table on the lawn near the large old trees at the edge of the garden, he was grateful to have a few minutes to dab his brow and compose himself.
Listening to the cicadas in the trees and the low murmur of voices around him, he felt a twinge of guilt at leaving Tanner back at Red Pillars. He wondered whether his friend would manage to discover anything that would help them. But then he saw Tanja drifting towards him across the lawn and a pulse of excitement coursed through him that made him put all thoughts of work and catching spies out of his mind. She was wearing a simple one-piece dress, her fair hair parted, with one side tucked behind an ear. Her lashes had been darkened, her lips were red, and Vaughan wondered whether he had ever seen a more ravishing vision.
‘You look absolutely wonderful,’ he said, standing and stepping forward to kiss her on each cheek.
‘Thank you,’ she said. She glanced around her and sat down as Vaughan pushed in her chair. Another glance, then a quick smile as he returned to his own seat. Somehow she didn’t seem quite as self-assured as she had the previous evening. Well, I feel a little apprehensive too.
He ordered champagne; a bit reckless, perhaps, but what the hell? It seemed to do the trick: Tanja relaxed, the conversation flowed. They talked of the heat, of Cairo, of wishing they could see more of Egypt. She wanted to take a felucca and travel downriver to Edfu and Luxor.
‘I’ve seen lots of Egypt,’ said Vaughan. ‘More than I’d like, really – but, sadly, not the interesting bits. Only the desolate parts. And, trust me, once you’ve seen one stretch of unending desert, you’ve probably seen all you’ll ever need to see. But it would be wonderful to travel down the Nile.’
‘One day.’ Her smile was sad. ‘What do you think will happen here?’
‘I suspect Rommel will attack before long. He has to.’
‘Has to? Why?’
‘Because his lines of communication are so long and ours are now so short. The fighting has stopped because both sides have run out of steam. But as time goes on, we’ll get stronger and stronger. The enemy cannot hope to keep pace, so if Rommel is to defeat us he needs to do it soon.’
Tanja was thoughtful for a moment, then said, ‘Tell me, do you think he can still win? Do you think the Axis will still take Egypt and the Middle East?’
Vaughan shrugged. ‘I’d like to think not, but who knows? Montgomery is taking command of Eighth Army but whether he’ll be better than Cunningham and Ritchie – or even Gott – I don’t know. He was a good divisional commander in France two years ago, but that’s not quite the same thing.’
‘Gott – I heard about that. It was sad.’
‘He was a good man – and to be burned alive like that. It’s a horrible way to go.’
Tanja shuddered.
‘These are troublesome days. The war out here hangs in the balance.’ He clapped his hands together and, brightening, said, ‘So let’s enjoy ourselves while we can. Carpe diem, and all that. And that means making the most of what this city has to offer, not least half-decent grub.’
The dining room was busy, as it usually was, the normal smattering of khaki blending with the flannel suits and printed dresses, and with suffragi, in long, white galabhiyas, flowing between the tables, large trays of drinks and food held aloft.
Vaughan ordered wine, they chose from the menu, and then he leaned towards her. She had seemed so confident the previous evening, and on the telephone earlier she had been playful and flirtatious. Now she seemed quite vulnerable – troubled, even. ‘Are you all right, Tanja?’
Another quick smile. ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ She looked around. ‘So many uniforms. So many soldiers. I want to do as you say – have a jolly time and forget the war, but it is not easy.’
‘And here am I, wearing my uniform too.’
‘Tell me, Alex, what do you do? You haven’t said.’
‘Strictly speaking, I’m a Guardsman. An officer in the Coldstream Guards. But I was wounded a little while back, and when I was recovering, I was given a staff job here at GHQ.’
‘But you are better now?’
‘Absolutely. Fit as a fiddle. But this staff job keeps me from the front, unfortunately.’
‘Unfortunately? Why unfortunately? What is it about you boys that you always want to get to the front and risk being killed?’
Vaughan sighed. ‘It’s not that I want to get killed or even wounded. Of course, I don’t. It’s more a question of guilt, really. I’m an experienced soldier, and experience counts for everything. Anyone can suffer bad luck and get hit by a shell or a bullet, but the more you know of war and fighting the better the soldier you become.’ He smiled bashfully. ‘I’m sorry – I’m not explaining myself very well.’
She looked at him. Go on.
‘I see all these young, fresh-faced chaps – like your friend Rhodes-Morton – and I wonder what hope they have. And then I think about how fit and able I am and it seems wrong that my knowledge and experience are being wasted here in Cairo while those fellows are being sent out into a fight they cannot possibly begin to understand.’
‘But they probably need your experience at GHQ, don’t they?’
‘Hm, I often wonder, to be honest.’
‘So what is it you are doing?’
Vaughan offered her a cigarette, which she accepted, then took one himself and lit them both.
‘Nothing very exciting,’ he said. ‘Planning work, mostly.’ He exhaled, smoke billowing into the air above them. ‘Anyway, I want to know about you. It’s obvious why I might be out here, but not a Polish girl. I met a few Poles in Tobruk, and there are people from most places here in Cairo, but I’ve never met a Polish lady.’
‘It’s true, there are not very many of us, only four at the Polish Red Cross. If there are any others, I do not know of them.’
‘It must be difficult,’ he said. ‘Egypt is very different from Poland.’
‘So is Britain.’
‘True. But although it might be a bit battered, it is still Britain. It’s still British. My people are still living in the same family house.’ He paused. ‘The same can’t be said for your country.’
She blinked a few times, swallowed, then touched the corner of an eye. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, it cannot.’ She looked at him and was about to say more when a suffragi arrived with the soup. A pause as the bowls were set in front of them.
‘I am sorry, Alex,’ she said, stubbing out her cigarette. ‘I get upset just thinking about it.’
‘Then tell me something that doesn’t upset you. If we’re to be friends, I need to know something about you, don’t I?’
A smile. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Tell me, when you reached Cairo, how you joined the Polish Red Cross.’
‘I got here in May last year. From Jerusalem.’ She laid down her spoon. ‘I got to Cairo and I said to myself, “Enough.” I had been running and running, always on the move. Always running away. Really, I can scarcely believe it. Europe was in turmoil. I left Poland and crossed into Romania, but then there was change in the wind again
and I could see which way it was blowing, so I kept heading south. My God, it was bleak, and all the time I was getting further and further away from home.’
‘It must have been terrible.’
‘It was difficult, certainly. But all of Europe was on the march in those days. I’m hardly the only refugee in this city.’
‘But what of your family, Tanja?’
‘My family,’ she said, her eyes moistening once more. ‘We were all scattered to the four winds. The Germans on one side, the Russians on the other. I couldn’t find them but I knew I didn’t want to die. I wanted to survive. There were many times when I came close to giving up. After all, what was the point? My country was ripped and divided, my family gone, but – I don’t know. I kept telling myself, “You’re only young, Tanja, and who knows what the future holds?”’
‘So you kept going?’
‘And here I am.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what you must have gone through. But I’m glad you didn’t give up.’
She smiled at him, then held his hand, which was resting on the table. It surprised Vaughan, but thrilled him too.
‘I was already in the army in September ’39,’ he said. ‘I’d been to university, but I decided to join up because I believed it was essential that we stood up to Hitler. Nazism is evil, Tanja. It needs to be stopped. I fight because I believe it’s our moral obligation to do so. As far as I’m concerned, this is a crusade. A crusade for the free world.’
Tanja took her hand away. ‘And where is Poland now?’ she said. ‘Where were you British in September 1939?’
‘We went to war for you.’
‘You didn’t. You went to war for yourselves. You promised to help us and you did nothing – not when the Germans invaded, or when the Russians poured into Poland. Poland has been torn in two, our people imprisoned and murdered. You say Nazism is evil, but what about Communism?’
She sat back and flung her napkin on the table. ‘And now the Russians are your ally – the people who took my home. This is no moral war, Alex, and no crusade. No one who consorts with the devil can claim any moral high ground whatsoever. It is just like any other war, brought about by a few and suffered by the many.’
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