By the time Luis had got in front of him, Wolfgang’s head was resting between his knees. Luis kneeled and took his face in his hands. All around, people had stopped to watch. Others bumped into them; there was much scuffling and apologizing. The face in Luis’s hands was warm but the eyes were dead. He looked up and saw Julie staring at him, frowning a little. At last his sluggish brain caught up and he turned to look for the jostler, but already the crowd had changed, had moved on; it could have been any one of thirty people. Even as he looked they were moving away, disappearing.
He took his hands from the face. Wolfgang sat on the steps and parted the flow of pedestrians like a rock in a stream. Luis grabbed Julie’s hand and hurried her down the steps as fast as he could. They went along the avenue, fast, not going anywhere, simply escaping. Charles Templeton was waiting at the first corner. “I have a car,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me? You don’t want to hang around here, do you?”
They got into his car. “Right-ho, George,” Templeton told the driver.
“I should have guessed,” Luis said. He felt drained of energy and will. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Not exactly,” Templeton said, “but more or less.”
*
They went first to Templeton’s office, where they drank his Portuguese brandy while he made some telephone calls.
“Well now, Luis,” he said, when he had finished. “In terms of human gore it didn’t compare with Jarama, did it? All the same I expect you’re glad it’s over.”
“True,” Luis said.
“Jarama is where we first met,” Templeton explained to Julie. “A lot of fighting over a rather boring hill, I can’t remember why.”
“Honor and glory,” Luis said.
“Is that what it was? No wonder I never understood. Anyway, today’s nonsense is now behind us, and that’s the main thing, isn’t it?”
“No question,” Luis said.
“You may think I’m buttering you up,” Templeton went on, pouring more brandy, “but I really am looking forward immensely to working with you. I’m sure it will be most enjoyable.”
“What on earth makes you think we’re going to work together?” Luis asked.
“My dear chap, after today’s experience surely even you can see … I mean, you’ve had a jolly good innings but …”
“Be your age, Luis,” Julie said. “It’s time to grow up and play with the big boys.”
“I fail to see,” Luis said stiffly, “how today’s events make it necessary for me to change my plans. On the contrary, now that certain obstacles have been removed—”
“You’re crazy,” Julie said. “He’s crazy,” she told Templeton. “He wants to take the Abwehr for a million bucks. If the war doesn’t last long enough he’s going to sue Churchill.”
Luis hunched his shoulders and glowered at a framed photograph of the Royal Family in kilts.
“Honestly, it’s not on, old boy,” Templeton said. “Our chaps can’t have chaps like you running independent sideshows. You might spoil the big attraction, if you see what I mean.”
“No,” Luis said.
Templeton grunted sadly. “I think we’d better go upstairs,” he said.
They went upstairs, and trooped into Commander Meredith’s office. Luis leaned against a wall and sneered. Meredith looked as if he hadn’t left his desk since the last time they met.
“I’m not a man to hold a grudge, Cabrillo,” he said. “I intend to forget your extraordinary carry-on at our previous meeting …” He did his best to suppress a glare. “… and recommence with a clean sheet.”
“Do what you like,” Luis muttered.
Meredith released the full force of his glare at Templeton, but Templeton was fully occupied with adjusting the crease in his trousers.
“Just for Christ’s sake listen to what they have to say, Luis,” Julie said.
“I have no intention of attempting to persuade you,” Meredith said. “The facts alone are enough, and the facts are that we cannot allow you to continue operating independently.”
“You can’t stop me, either.”
“That is a stupid remark,” Meredith said, “particularly after what you observed less than an hour ago.”
Luis looked at Julie, and scoffed. “You see what I mean? Threats. Big mouth, small brain. No style.”
“I can live without style,” she said. “I can even live without your style.”
That silenced him. He folded his arms and looked at the carpet.
“The truth is we can all live without you, Cabrillo,” Meredith said. “Don’t flatter yourself that this department eliminated Adler for your benefit. Far from it.”
Luis raised his head, and sniffed sharply. “Then why did you do it?” he demanded.
“None of your business.”
Luis walked to the door. “And my business is none of your business,” he said.
“You’ll come a cropper, old boy,” Templeton warned him. “Honestly you will.”
“Luis, listen to them,” Julie pleaded. “You can’t go on forever on your own.”
“Why should I do as he says?” Luis jerked his head toward Meredith.
“Because you’ve got no damn choice,” Meredith snapped.
“That’s not good enough.”
Julie turned away. “I can’t go on like this,” she said. “You’re on your own now, Luis.”
For a moment the air was sour with stalemate. Then the telephone rang. Templeton answered it. “The Director would like to see you,” he said to Luis and Julie.
“Tell him to write for an appointment,” Luis said.
“You maniac!” Julie shouted. She went over and punched him in the eye. He hit her in the mouth. “Please, please,” Templeton said, pulling them apart. “Try to control yourselves. There’s a war on, remember.”
“She started it,” Luis complained. Already his eye felt like a blood-orange.
“If that’s what he means by style,” Meredith said to Templeton, “I think I’m better off without it. Get him out of here.”
Templeton led them down the corridor and into another and bigger office. “Mrs. Conroy and Mr. Cabrillo, sir,” he said.
“Do sit down,” the Director said. He was a short, comfortably built man with a pleasant, rubbery face. Julie, sucking a split lip, took an armchair. Luis took another and held his handkerchief against his eye. “Be a dear chap and open that champagne, Charles,” the Director said. “This is something of a special occasion for me.”
He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk, went over to Luis, and squatted on his haunches so that they could both read it. “You probably recognize this,” he murmured.
Luis squinted at it through his one good eye. “Yes,” he said. “That’s part of my report on the new British ‘crusher’ tank.”
“Excellent stuff,” the Director said. “I did enjoy it. What a pity the tank doesn’t exist. Mind you, we may develop it one day.”
“How did you get hold of this?” Luis asked.
“We intercepted it. We intercept a lot of Abwehr signals, frightfully dull stuff most of it, but this … Ah, well done, Charles.” Glasses of champagne arrived. The Director took a mouthful, and perched on the arm of Luis’s chair. “You see that bit there,” he said. “Delightful turn of phrase; I wish I’d written it … Now tell me, Mr. Cabrillo: am I wrong, or has your style been influenced by the novels of Graham Greene?”
Luis was startled and pleased. “Well, naturally I admire Greene’s writing,” he said. “Can you really tell?”
“Heavens, yes.” The Director stood up. “If you’ve got a minute,” he said, “I’d be most interested in your opinion about a passage that rather intrigued me …” He took Luis over to his desk.
For the next half-hour they talked books and writers. Luis responded more and more willingly to the Director’s slightly diffident questions until the conversation was flowing quite freely. Meanwhile Templeton chatted quietly with Julie.
Event
ually Luis and the Director strolled back to the armchairs. Templeton refilled everyone’s glass. “Of course you know that Graham Greene is here,” the Director said.
“No, I didn’t.” Luis’s functioning eye opened wide with surprise. “You mean he’s working here?”
“In my department. Would you like to meet him some time? I know he’d be fascinated to meet you. My goodness, yes.”
Luis simply nodded. Julie sipped champagne through the undamaged corner of her mouth and watched discreetly. Was he hooked? Would he let himself be caught?
“I’m awfully glad you dropped in,” the Director said. “There’s another problem that’s been bothering me.”
“Anything I can do,” Luis said generously.
“I hoped you’d say that.” The Director led him over to a wall-map of Europe. “I expect you’ve guessed that the Allies are going to invade somewhere, sooner or later,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the entire Continent.
“It’s no secret.”
“No, of course not. The only secret is when and where. Now, just suppose we knew that one area where the invasion will definitely not take place is, for instance, Greece.”
Luis nodded.
“In your opinion,” the Director said, “would it be possible, using a team of agents such as your own Eldorado team, to feed a stream of misinformation to the enemy until he became persuaded that Greece must be the invasion site?”
“Nothing is certain,” Luis said, “but it would probably be worth a try.”
“I see. Of course the entire operation would have to be carefully orchestrated so as to harmonize with all our other deception plans.”
“That goes without saying,” Luis agreed.
“And the price of success would be the eventual sacrifice of the entire Eldorado team.”
Luis shrugged. “The Abwehr would have to know that they had been deceived,” he said, “or there would be no deception.”
There was a moment of silent satisfaction, like the pause between the last note and the first applause.
“Good,” the Director said. “Shall we drink to that?”
They drank. “Now then, what about the money?” Luis said briskly.
“My dear chap, you’ve had such a long and trying day. Why don’t we leave the technicalities to another—”
“Not on your life. A deal is a deal.”
Julie groaned. She looked away in despair.
The Director licked up a drip of champagne that was running down the outside of his glass. “What were you thinking of?” he asked.
“I work for you, free of charge, and keep what the Abwehr pays me. When Eldorado collapses, you compensate me for my lost earnings.”
“That sounds like rather a lot of money.”
“Yes, it is. It adds up to a million dollars.”
The Director nodded. “Well, a million dollars, in the context of this war, is nothing much. It wouldn’t pay for the squadron of bombers we lost last week, or one quarter of the ship that gets torpedoed in the Atlantic every day. No, I can see that yours is a minor expense, Mr. Cabrillo, and if it were up to me I should authorize it without thinking twice. As it is, such matters are decided by my masters in London, a notoriously tightfisted and narrowminded crew. Regrettable, of course; inefficient and inflexible and crass and all those other sterling qualities which have made British Intelligence the crippled beast which it is. On the other hand, what am I to do?”
“In that case the deal’s off,” Luis announced.
“What a pity,” the Director said. “Here we have an opportunity to shorten the war, to save thousands of lives—perhaps tens or even hundreds of thousands of lives—and all for a million dollars. What a great, great pity.”
“Rotten shame,” Templeton murmured.
“The point is,” Luis said, “you can always have another war, but this is my only chance to make a million dollars. You see what I mean?”
Julie suddenly turned and said: “Here, catch.” Something hit Luis in the chest and fell to the floor. He picked it up: a key. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Key to the office. I shan’t need it any more.”
He stared at her, and saw that she was forcing down the corners of her eyes and compressing her lips to keep back the tears. He felt genuinely perplexed. “Why do you take it so seriously?” he asked her. “It’s just business, that’s all.”
“Go to hell,” she mumbled.
Luis rubbed the key against the side of his nose. “You definitely need Eldorado?” he said to the Director.
“To be sure of success, yes, we do.”
“The operation is very important?”
“Tremendously important. Crucial.”
“Then it’s worth a million dollars.”
The Director finished his champagne and gave the glass to Templeton. He walked over to his desk and unlocked a drawer. He took out a checkbook, wrote in it, blotted it, detached the check, got up, and gave it to Luis. “I advise you to cash it quickly,” he said. “The Treasury is not terribly well-off at the moment.”
Luis carefully read the check, ending with the signature. “Thank you, Mr. Philby,” he said. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”
He turned and held it out to Julie. “Would you look after it for me?” he asked. “And the key, too?”
For a moment she sat and stared at his outstretched hands. Then she stood up and took the key and the check. “Can you give me a light?” she asked Templeton.
He produced a lighter.
They all watched while she set fire to the check. The flames stretched and shrank and stretched again as she turned the paper. Templeton held out a large ashtray and she let the last corner drop into it.
“What an extraordinary thing flame is,” Luis said. “Have you noticed? It has color but no substance. Its shape is always changing, so it has no shape. You can see through it. It has no independent existence. It depends on something else for its existence, and then it destroys the very thing that created it. Isn’t that strange?”
“Load of bullshit,” Julie said.
“Such a pleasure meeting you both,” the Director said. “I look forward enormously to a long and fruitful relationship, Luis.”
“Thank you, Mr. Philby.” They shook hands.
“Please call me Kim,” the Director said. “All my friends do.”
Templeton took Luis and Julie down to the lobby.
“Nice chap,” Luis said.
“I think he’s brilliant,” Templeton told him. “And so does everybody else here. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t go right to the very top.” He pushed open the front door. “I’ve laid on a car for you. The driver knows where to go.”
It was an old, comfortable Daimler. Julie curled up in a corner of the deep back seat and watched the bright lights drift by. She was lightheaded with stress, alcohol and fatigue. “Why must you always be such an obstinate bastard, Luis?” she asked.
He stretched his legs, and linked his hands behind his head.
“You knew what I’d do to that check, didn’t you?” she said. “That’s why you gave it to me. You’re a maniac”
“It made a beautiful flame,” he said.
Templeton went back upstairs and found Philby talking to Meredith.
“I was afraid I might have done permanent damage to his blasted Spanish honor,” Meredith said.
“No, no. You softened him up nicely,” Philby said.
“I’ve put a man outside their apartment, sir,” Templeton told him. “And I’ll collect them personally in the morning.”
Philby smiled his thanks. “I rather like the fellow. I’m glad he agreed to help us.”
“Supposing he hadn’t agreed?” Meredith said. “You could never have turned him loose again. Not with what he knows.”
“Dear me no.” Philby found some champagne dregs in a bottle and poured them out. “Mr. Cabrillo just saved his own life. Now it will be interesting to see if he can help us save ours.” He sipped, and made
a face. “Flat,” he said.
Chapter 61
Next morning, Luis and Julie moved out of their apartment and went to live in the British embassy. Luis protested briefly against the shift but Templeton soon made him see that it was essential, both for efficiency and for security.
While they were packing, Julie said to Templeton: “What happened to Wolfgang? Or shouldn’t I ask?”
“It’s no secret, in fact it’s in all the papers. The poor chap had a heart attack while he was walking back to the German embassy. I’m told the embassy took possession of the body last night.”
“Funny heart attack,” Luis said. “I saw blood on his shirt.”
“Hemorrhage,” Templeton said.
“Ah.”
“I’ll tell you what I don’t understand,” Julie said. “What did your boss Meredith mean when he said Adler wasn’t removed for Luis’s benefit?”
“Did he say that?” Templeton asked.
“You heard him,” Luis said.
“Dear me. He really shouldn’t have said that.”
“Answer the question,” Julie said. “If you didn’t do it for Luis, why did you do it?”
They both stopped packing and stared at him.
“Oh … Must you know?” he said wretchedly.
“Give!” Julie cried. “We’re all on the same side now, remember?”
Templeton thought about it, his eyes shifting nervously. At last he said: “Very well, since you insist. The fact is that there was another reason, an extremely urgent reason.”
“What?” she asked.
Templeton changed his mind. “I can’t say.”
“You clod,” Luis said.
“It’s just too soon. In due course, perhaps …”
“Oh, garbage,” Julie snapped.
In the afternoon Luis was introduced to the controllers with whom he would be working. Templeton and Julie went over to the office and began the process of putting Bradburn & Wedge into voluntary liquidation. By the end of the day, all the Eldorado files had been moved to the embassy and Luis had finished drafting his first report to Madrid under the guidance of British intelligence. Within a week the entire Eldorado Network was in action again, and the personality of a new sub-agent—the eighth—was taking shape.
Eldorado Network Page 45