Threat

by Hugh Fraser

  ‘What?’ I say

  ‘At Heathrow. Which building do you want?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It’ll say on your ticket.’

  I open the ticket and look at it. ‘Building One, Europa, it says.’

  He nods and accelerates down Park Lane.

  We go through Knightsbridge and Hammersmith and along the A4 to Heathrow. The driver stops outside Building One, takes my suitcase out of the boot and I go through the revolving door. I’ve no idea what to do or where to go so I stand under the big board which says departures and look down the list for a flight to Berlin. I see my one that leaves at nine-forty and I’m looking around for someone to ask where I should go when I see Olga billowing out of the revolving door in a dark red cloak with the hood up; and I thought spies were supposed to look inconspicuous. I walk towards her and she sees me, nods and puts down her suitcase.

  ‘Good. You are here,’ she says.

  ‘Morning,’ I say.

  ‘You have ticket?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She looks at the board, picks up her suitcase and leads me towards a row of desks. We join a queue in front of the one that has a sign saying Berlin above it and she stands with her back to me. When we get to the front of the queue I watch while she gets given her boarding pass and her suitcase wobbles away along the moving belt. I hand my passport and ticket to the bored looking bloke in the uniform. He has a look at them, ticks something off on a list, gives me my boarding pass and I say goodbye to my suitcase. I follow Olga through a door and along a corridor past different lounges with gate numbers on signs outside them. We get to the one that says Berlin with our flight number and sit down among the other passengers. There’s various announcements coming over the speakers, first in English then in other languages, and I can see different planes through the glass wall of the building; some stand waiting and others are moving along or being towed. I feel a twinge of fear as I see one taking off in the distance. I look at Olga and smile but she turns away and lights up a fag. I can see from the clock that we’ve got nearly an hour to wait. I see a row of payphones on the wall opposite the lounge and I tell Olga I’m going to make a call. She nods and draws on her fag.

  I dial the number for Dorothea Simpkins at Leavendon and after a couple of rings the secretary picks up. I push a shilling into the slot, say my name and ask for Miss Simpkins. There’s a pause and I’m just about to repeat myself when she comes on the line.

  ‘I’m glad you called Miss Walker.’

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘I have been trying to telephone you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m afraid there’s been an incident.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Involving your sister.’

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘She has assaulted a pupil.’

  My stomach turns over and I have to lean against the wall to steady myself. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Georgina hit another girl in the dormitory and she has been taken to Tonbridge Cottage Hospital with severe facial bruising.’

  ‘Is she going to be all right?’

  ‘That remains to be seen. In the meantime, I must tell you that we cannot tolerate violent behaviour such as this and I must ask you to remove her from the school immediately.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘May I ask why?’

  ‘I’m just about to get on a plane and go abroad.’

  ‘Is there a relative who could come and collect her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘When do you return?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Really Miss Walker, this simply will not do. The injured girl’s parents are on their way from Scotland to visit their daughter in hospital and I understand that they are considering criminal charges.’

  ‘Let me speak to Georgina.’

  ‘If you cannot arrange for her to be removed immediately I shall place the matter in the hands of the local police.’

  ‘Let me speak to her and I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Hold the line.’

  I can hear her telling someone to go and get ‘the Walker girl’ and I wish I was there so I could give Dorothea Simpkins a clip as well. After a bit Georgie picks up the phone and I can hear her breathing. I ask her what’s occurred and at first she won’t speak but after I’ve told her it’s all right and I’m not angry, she replies,

  ‘This one girl kept calling me guttersnipe and she got the others to as well and when we went to bed she took my blazer and put it in the toilet and pulled the chain and the others were all laughing and calling me guttersnipe as well so I hit her.’

  ‘Was it the girl on the train who was sat by the window?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I can hear her starting to cry. ‘I understand why you’ve done it.’

  ‘They was all at me,’ she says, through her tears.

  ‘I know. It’s all right.’

  ‘They’ve said I’ve got to leave.’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  She’s silent for a moment.

  ‘That Annabelle was nice to me. She said she would show me things today. We were going to meet in the tuck room after lunch.’

  I can tell she wants to stay and try and make a go of it in spite of what’s happened and I feel proud of her. ‘I’m going to try and sort this but if I can’t you might have to leave and it’ll be Lizzie who comes for you. I’ve got to go away for a bit and you’ll have to stay with her until I get back.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Germany.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll tell you after I get home.’

  ‘When’s that?’

  ‘Soon.’

  I can hear her starting to cry again and I push my elbow against the sharp corner of the phone box until I get a pain up into my shoulder.

  ‘Try not to worry, you’ve just had a ruck with an idiot who was looking for a slap.’

  She sniffs and says, ‘Ok.’

  I put the phone down and I can see from the clock that there’s still some time before the flight leaves. I go to Olga and ask her if she has a phone number for Nick Boulter. She says she hasn’t so I get some more change from her and dial Lizzie’s number. I tell her the situation and when she’s done slagging off the upper classes I get a number for Nick from her and tell her she might have to collect Georgie and look after her for a bit. She says she’ll be delighted. I tell her I’ll try and call her later and we say goodbye.

  I dial Nick’s number and just when I think I’ve missed him he picks up. ‘Boulter.’

  ‘I’m at the airport.’

  He’s silent for a moment then he says, ‘Do not identify yourself.’

  ‘I’ve just heard from the school. She’s had a fight with a girl who was picking on her and put her in hospital. They want to kick her out but you’re going to stop them. She stays at the school or I don’t do the business. I’ll call you tonight.’

  I hold the receiver up so that he can hear the voice over the speakers telling us to board Flight LH 915 to Berlin. I put the receiver back to my ear and Nick says, ‘Get on the plane.’

  • • •

  I sit by the window and try to move clear of Olga who’s bulging out of the seat next to me. Various passengers consider taking the aisle seat on the other side of her and then decide against it and move on towards the back of the plane. Finally, just as the cabin doors are shut, a wizened little old man slips in next to her and opens a German newspaper. The engines roar suddenly and my stomach lifts as the plane moves forward. Olga turns to me.

  ‘You not fly before?’

  I shake my head and she reaches into the folds of her cape and produces a flask. As an air steward passes and checks our seat belts she hides it again and when he’s gone she hands it to me. I unscrew the top and smell whisky. I take a long pull, feel the warmth as it goes down and think about poor Georgie. I can only hope that Nick or Sir Robert will be able t
o fix it so that she stays at the school and it’ll all blow over and she can settle in. It was good to hear that Annabelle is being friendly. I hand the flask back to Olga and she takes a swallow and puts it back inside her cape. She covers my hand with hers.

  ‘Don’t be frightened.’

  The plane comes to a halt on the runway and then a moment later the engines roar really loud but we’re still stopped and the plane’s shaking and so am I and then we’re pulling forward really fast and I’m pressed back in my seat. It’s getting faster and faster and then we lift up into the air and the engines whine; all at once I let go and I feel like everything’s all right and I’m not scared any more. Olga looks at me and smiles. I smile back and she takes her hand off mine.

  I sit forward and look out of the window at the tiny houses and the roads and the fields and such and I think how many little people down there are living their little lives with all their worries and their excitements and how small and silly it all seems from up in the sky. I bet if you were up in space or on the moon the whole world would look tiny and not important at all.

  There’s a dinging sound from above me and Olga and the wizened old man undo their seat belts. There’s nothing but clouds to look at out of the window so I undo my belt and sit back in my seat. Olga closes her eyes and after a bit her breathing gets heavier and her head starts lolling sideways towards the wizened old man who’s deep in his newspaper and doesn’t seem to notice. I close my eyes and my mind goes back to Georgie. I thought that getting her away from my life and all the aggravation would keep her safe but I suppose there’s just as much to hurt you in different ways wherever you go. I’m glad Georgie dotted that girl. She’ll get respect for it and the others will leave her alone. I reckon fear works just as well with any kind of people.

  I doze off for a bit and when I wake the steward and the stewardess are pushing a trolley down the aisle and handing out trays of food and drinks. I can smell bacon and coffee and suddenly I’m really hungry. I look out of the window and see the clouds have parted and there’s green fields and little towns and villages looking all neat and tidy far below in the sunshine. The trolley gets to our row and the wizened old man looks up from his paper, sees Olga’s head an inch away from him and jumps up in fright. Olga jerks upright and lets out an enormous burp. Heads turn to look at us and the steward says something to her in German. Olga takes a deep breath, waves a hand, says something I don’t understand and the steward laughs and passes a cup of coffee to the wizened old man. The stewardess offers him a tray of food but he shakes his head and goes back to his newspaper. She gives the tray to Olga instead and as she leans over with mine our eyes meet and we share a brief smile. The steward gives us coffee and I bite into the best sausage I’ve ever tasted.

  20

  We walk out of Tegel Airport and get into an old Mercedes taxi from the rank. Olga gives him an address and I hear her say what sounds like Hotel Castle. I ask her if that’s where we’re staying and how far away it is. She tells me it’s the Hotel Castell, it’s about twenty minutes away and we are staying there. The car moves off and we’re driving through a well kept park before we get into wide tree-lined streets and then into what looks like the centre of the city, although there’s still trees along the busy roads. There are quite a few army trucks and jeeps going about and I’m tempted to ask Olga about what goes on here but it seems like she doesn’t want to talk or get friendly and I’m thinking that it’s probably best to keep it that way, in case I have to kill her.

  The cab pulls up in a quiet street with trees on each side. The hotel’s a drab, grey, flat fronted building with an arched door. We get out of the taxi and take the cases out of the boot. Olga pays the driver and we go into the dimly lit foyer of the hotel. The walls are a dirty brown colour and there are two moth-eaten wing backed armchairs beside a small round table. We go to the reception desk in the corner where a grey haired woman is bent over a book that she’s writing in.

  Olga says something and the old woman looks up and just about manages a smile as she closes the book and reaches for another from the shelf behind her. Olga gives our names and the old dear writes us down in the book and hands us each a key. I tell Olga to ask her if I can phone London from here and after they’ve discussed it for a bit Olga says there’s no phone except the one in reception but that I can do it from there.

  We go up the narrow staircase onto the second floor landing and walk along the dark corridor. A door opens and a maid in a grey dress and apron, who looks no more than fifteen, comes out of a room holding a bucket and mop. She glances at us then she stands back to let us pass and looks at the floor. Olga stops in front of a door near the end of the corridor and hands me a key. As I go to unlock the door she nods towards the room next door.

  ‘I am there. Five minutes, you come.’

  I let myself into the room and put down my suitcase. I cross to the window, open the curtain and note the windowsill and the drainpipe that’s within reach to the left. The room is small with just enough room for a single bed, a narrow wardrobe and an old armchair like the ones in the foyer downstairs. There’s a washbasin in one corner, with a mirror above it and a picture of a bowl of fruit on the wall opposite the window. I put my case on the bed, take out my clothes and hang them in the wardrobe. I unwrap my gun, weigh it in my hand and wonder if I want to use it on this one.

  It’s difficult to carry without it being seen, makes a lot of noise and marks you out as the shooter unless you get rid of it right away. I decide that a blade or bare hands are probably better for this job and I slip the gun under the mattress. I put my underwear on the shelf in the wardrobe, lay Miss Austen on the table by the bed and go next door.

  Olga’s door’s open so I knock and go in. She’s kneeling on the floor twiddling the dial on a transistor radio that’s balanced on top of her suitcase. She turns to me.

  ‘Close door and come.’

  I do as she says and she points at the radio’s aerial. ‘Move around please.’

  I point the aerial towards the window and the crackling from the speaker turns into what sounds like German speech. ‘Good,’ says Olga.

  She turns the dial, finds another station where a woman, who sounds like she’s got her mouth full, is talking in some other language. She turns down the volume, stands up and looks at her watch.

  ‘Ok. First lesson. You sit down please.’

  She points to the bed and after I sit she turns up the radio, takes a notebook and a pen out of her suitcase, and sits next to me.

  ‘In few moments she on radio will say weather forecast for local. At end she say name of next record she will play. According to name of singer we know where to make meet from decoding.’

  While I’m wondering what she’s on about she opens the notebook and shows me a page with four columns of letters next to each other. The woman on the radio is still talking away and Olga’s listening and then there’s a bit of a jingle and she says something else and then Sinatra swings into My Funny Valentine.

  Olga writes Frank Sinatra on the page opposite the columns of letters and then she moves closer to me on the bed.

  ‘Now I show you how to decode this.’

  She points at F in the first column of letters and then at the letter opposite in the second column which is a C, then she points at the C in the third column and then writes down the letter opposite it in the fourth column which is an S, then she does the same thing with each of the other letters of Frank Sinatra. When she’s finished she shows me the notebook where she’s written Spinnennetz B. I ask her what it means and she says it’s a bar called the Spider’s Web. At that moment Frank starts singing I’ve Got You Under My Skin and I get a flash of watching her through the mirror at Lizzie’s getting her end away with those insects and I move a little way away from her along the bed. She looks at me.

  ‘You understand to decode?’

  ‘I think I’ve got it,’ I say.

  ‘Ok. Now we wait for time of meet to come.’


  Sure enough the next song is Elvis singing One Night With You. Olga snaps the notebook shut and says, ‘Ok, now we have time and place for drop. One in the morning at Spinnennetz Bar.’

  ‘Do you know where it is?

  ‘Is nearby, across Ku’damm.’

  Olga turns off the radio, goes to the window, stretches her arms up above her head and gives a great yawn. She turns round to me and says, ‘I sleep now.’

  ‘Ok,’ I say as I get up off the bed. Olga takes her cloak off and throws it over the armchair. She unbuttons her blouse, pulls it over her head and I get a sight of her massive shoulders and arms, all ripply with muscle. As I head for the door she says,

  ‘You like to have dinner then maybe go to cabaret before meet?’

  ‘Why not,’ I say and slip out through the door before she can take her bra off.

  I go into my room and lie on the bed. I try to relax and drift off but I keep thinking of what’s coming and how I’m going to get a sight of the file Olga’s passing to the Russians to see if it’s fake or genuine, and how I’m going to take care of her if it turns out she’s working for them. I get up and check that I’ve got the piece of paper with the different letters on the bottom of the last page of the file, which say whether it’s counterfeit or kosher. I take it from among Caroline Ward’s designs, fold it up and put it in my pants.

  As I walk past the window I can see into the building opposite. There’s a man and a woman sitting on a sofa on the floor below. They’re talking but she’s got her back to me and I can only see her auburn hair. He’s dark haired and handsome in a white shirt and tie. As I’m watching and wondering what they’re saying the woman leans forward and starts pointing her finger at the man. He gets up and he’s shouting at her and waving his fist and then she’s up as well and they’re having a right go at each other. The man grabs a jacket off a chair and he’s off out of the door and the woman picks up a cup off the mantlepiece, flings it at the door and it smashes. She sits herself down in a chair in front of the fire and folds her arms. She doesn’t look like she’s crying or anything so I reckon she’s told him what for and feels good about it. I wonder if that’s the end of it or whether he’ll come creeping back later and they’ll kiss and make up.