Innocence To Die For

by Eidinow, John

  ‘She had the skills, knew the score. She could have knocked you off and run for it. Or just run for it.’

  ‘She stayed in her peignoir.’ The white peignoir patterned with red. He shook his head.

  ‘Which leaves the most interesting thing of all—’

  ‘Filon said I was lucky. I don’t believe luck had anything to do with it.’

  ‘So they’re hoping—’

  ‘They aren’t the only ones, are they, Nick, who are hoping?’

  Nick took out his pipe, looked at it and put it back. They drank their coffee in silence.

  ‘The fact I’m able to sit in this fragrant boudoir drinking this excellent coffee, thank you, isn’t the only noteworthy thing from Pornic.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Remember her exact words when I asked her about Dinah’s contact with Walter Thomas/Krivitsky. I said, “And that’s why she’s in danger?” She replied, “That would be enough.” Contacts with Krivitsky “would be enough”. And now Burenko.’

  Nick remained silent.

  ‘Time to tell me, Nick. Perhaps then I could help.’

  ‘About Dinah. About Dinah and Peter. Look, things have changed at my end. I’ve been moved to a different area. I think you’ve gathered that. One or two of us haven’t given up on this, though. Too significant to let go.’

  ‘You’ve the bit between your teeth.’

  ‘Lashed myself to the mast, more like it. Anyway, we have to make way for Michelle, and I’m dying for my pipe.’

  ‘Could we meet later? My leave could be over any minute. I’m not even sure where I’ll be.’

  ‘This evening, if you’re free. And there’s something more you have for me?’

  They agreed on a concert. Arrive and sit separately, leave at the interval.

  ‘It’s Bax—’

  ‘So getting in shouldn’t be a problem.’ Nick chuckled.

  ****

  The tide was high and the Thames flowing strongly, a yellow quarter moon glinting on its ripples. Peter thought of Rutherglen Stanley’s battered homburg swooping and fluttering on to the dark waters. Dinah withdrawing into herself. Was that when it started?

  ‘Are you a regular concert-goer, Nick?’

  ‘When work allows. When I was a nipper, I used to go all the time with my pa. He was an organist and choirmaster. I thought I’d follow him into music. But when he died, my mother remarried into the Navy and my stepfather sent me off to be a midshipman.’

  They were strolling in a public garden that ran along the river embankment. Nick pointed to a bench under a flowering catalpa.

  ‘Time for cards on the table.’ The music was faintly audible at its crescendos. ‘You’ve probably arrived at most of it. This is how it looks from our end. Down in the long grass of the service we’ve our suspicions that Moscow has a group of agents in Whitehall. Bit more than instinct, a lot less than proof.’

  He lit the stubby pipe and pulled on it. ‘Let’s imagine. A coterie, close friends from school and university, found each other, covered for each other, identified like-minded recruits. They’re clever, part of society, move in well-placed circles. Their well-placed friends and relatives appoint them, promote them, spend weekends and dine with them, go to their parties, won’t ever want to believe ill of them. Known them since childhood. Perhaps even wouldn’t think what they do is culpable as long as they do it from conviction, not for cash or blackmail. Your friend Walter Thomas had jumped ship and he came over from the US and put us on to two low-level Soviet agents in the FO who were in it for money. Cheers and congratulations all round. But his further allegation of a ring in the heart of Whitehall was unsubstantiated. After a review, it was dismissed officially as Soviet disinformation – designed to spread alarm and despondency.’

  ‘But he’d delivered the two agents.’

  Nick shook his head. ‘Small fry to give him credibility is the official view.’

  ‘Nothing more from Thomas?’

  ‘Not in the circumstances.’

  After a pause, Peter said, ‘Where now?’

  ‘Extreme caution is required. If we’re right about them, they are, shall we say, unusually well informed and they’ve been ahead of us. Also, while these intellectuals and aesthetes would never go in for the rough stuff; their Soviet masters certainly do. As you know …’ He paused, listening to applause, shouts of “bravo”. ‘… with only a very few of us ready to pursue this, either we catch one red-handed with the blueprints, as it were, or we locate and talk to their London handler.’

  ‘That’s where I come in? Peter and Dinah?’

  Nick got up. ‘Let’s walk a bit and find a pub.’

  ****

  Peter went for drinks. Nick found chairs in a corner of the public bar, lively enough for them to have to lean towards each other to talk.

  ‘Dinah.’ Nick pulled at his pipe. ‘I think it’s very important to try to understand Dinah. How well do you think you knew her?’

  ‘I accepted there were areas of her life of which I knew nothing. Home, work, other friends, the east end—it seemed quite natural. We came from quite different worlds. She was very devoted to her grandfather, and he to her. He told me he would do anything for her.’

  Nick grunted and nodded.

  ‘Do you think I was just a cover for her? For her other activities?’

  ‘Far from it. I think the key to understanding this whole affair is understanding the impact of your arrival on the scene. On her and on Moscow.’

  ‘Because of who I was?’

  ‘Well connected, knows people, dines, shoots, hears gossip … Moscow might well have lived with that. Its agent could point to the advantage of the connection. But in this case, surely not that simple—’

  ‘If she was already suspect to Moscow.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because linked to Walter Thomas/Krivitsky – though Dinah’s own controller was in Paris. Thomas is linked to Elisabeth Gerstina. She is – was – Dinah’s cousin.’

  ‘Her cousin? That’s something you forgot to mention.’

  ‘She said she blamed herself for getting Dinah into this.’

  ‘Into?’

  ‘Into this group of people – all from the eastern borderlands. People who set out to work for the international communist movement and found themselves working for the NKVD. Who became disillusioned. She said to me “You know, first you believe. Then you want to believe. Then you have doubts but trust everything will be for the best. Then you hope things will change, a miracle perhaps. A rumour that Stalin has been assassinated lifts the spirits. Then you are without belief or hope or trust but you have no other life. You are truly without choice or future.”’

  For a moment Peter could hear the suck of the sea rising and falling on the shore below the villa.

  ‘Madame Gerstina said that?’ Nick gave him a penetrating stare.

  ‘It was her testament.’

  ‘And she chose you to receive it?’

  ‘I was there. She also wanted me to understand Dinah’s predicament. What it meant for us.’

  The landlord was calling time. They finished their drinks and walked down to the river. The night was warm. They leaned over the embankment wall, the river lapping softly below. A little way off, what sounded like a convoy was rumbling slowly along the blacked-out road above them.

  With a glance around, Nick began again. ‘Was she originally a stopgap, put in when someone was recalled to Moscow and then proving herself? Or is she a Moscow-trained, long-term agent? From what you say, from what we’ve seen, that doesn’t seem impossible.’

  ‘And puts her in greater danger?’

  ‘Logically. Either way, she had perfect cover. Job in a big store, excellent for contacts. Standing in the shadow of her grandfather.’

  ‘He told me I should be an agitator for a general strike, going into factories and mills to rouse the workers.’

  ‘His notes were incomprehensible – mad ramblings – took hours of translator time.’ />
  ‘Will he be let out? He can’t be much of a risk.’

  ‘Not one for me. I should think it’s best he stays put for a while. Let’s suppose Dinah realises that her connection with Thomas, her cousin Elisabeth and the others is likely to become, perhaps has become, a problem. Perhaps she’s warned. Perhaps she doesn’t need telling. That apart, are Moscow’s suspicions justified? Has one of its key agents, its London link, come to reject the whole game?’

  ‘There was a moment when she seemed to be completely disillusioned. Later, I thought it must have been a pose for my benefit.’

  ‘Your benefit? Meeting Peter Hill turned her life upside down. She’s in love. You’re in love. Man, that first evening in the Adelaide it was as plain as a pikestaff. Well, someone less well intentioned than me must have seen you wrapped up in each other and passed on the news—’

  ‘Professor Chiasmus!’

  Nick looked baffled.

  ‘Sorry, Nick. We called him that at school. His real name is Rhees Rees, a classical scholar. He met us in a pub. Looking back, I think he tried to warn me off. Curiously, just before I left for Nantes, I bumped into him – or he waylaid me – and he pushed to find out if she and I were still in touch. He’s working in the Foreign Office now, you know.’

  ‘Rhees Rees. Let me know if he tries again.’

  ‘I told him I would do anything to see her again.’

  Nick began to tick things off on his fingers. ‘One, you’ve fallen for each other. Two, soon it’s marriage in the air. Three, you do things for her.’

  ‘Become her sub-agent.’

  ‘Possibly with a double purpose: she’s also trying to demonstrate your usefulness. You’re now involved with her but, four, possibly in Moscow’s eyes she’s the same case as Thomas and Madame Gerstina—’

  ‘Who warned me Moscow has a bottomless capacity for suspicion.’

  ‘Dinah’s become bad news and decides that for both your sakes she must act and act alone.’

  ‘“That would be enough.” Elisabeth Gerstina wanted me to hear that.’ Peter paused to think back. ‘The professor is the straw man. He said he would do anything for her. I have a part to play, running round after him.’

  ‘The only way. To leave you distraught. She hopes safe.’ He slapped the embankment wall. ‘Though, five, our authorities are also taking an interest in you. I’ve been wondering about that. Let’s move on. There’s a coffee stall not far.’

  Peter needed the break. Like her cousin’s, Dinah’s judgement of him had been realistic, coldly realistic. What in his world had equipped him for a secret life? His values were decency, order and some derring-do when required. Not watchfulness and relentless action. Not constant reserve, the mind in two compartments. Not constant mistrust. Still, he burned with regret.

  They reached the coffee stall in silence. With their cups, they stood back in the gloom of a plane tree. He suddenly felt exhausted. Nick broke the silence. ‘You were caught up in something you had no idea of. How could you?’ He handed Peter his coffee while he lit the stubby pipe, shielding the match-flame with his hands. ‘Nor I much more, if it’s any comfort. Not a lot you could have done anyway, old son.’ The pipe drew well.

  ‘That’s nice of you, Nick. It’s not just I was useless in her eyes—and Madame Gerstina’s. She was right. It’s the conceit, you see. Thinking one can explore life while keeping it at arm’s length, then finding that life can still take one by the throat.’

  ‘You paid a price. You also helped your country. Stirred up the apple cart. And from that Russian’s contacting you, you’re unlikely to be left in peace.’

  ‘Let me take the cups back.’ As he returned, he could just make out Nick in the dark of the tree, the glow of the pipe, the sturdy stance. ‘I hope not in peace. Let’s go on a bit.’

  ****

  Risking a warden’s outraged shout, Nick pulled out a torch and examined the postcards. ‘We know three things. She’s in Switzerland. She’s not in either Geneva or Yverdon. Possibly they had an arrangement. Next city or town or next but one. Do you think Madame Gerstina would have told you?’

  ‘Not a chance … that she would have risked it.’ Aware but not watchful. Her judgement. Absolutely right.

  Nick would keep Yverdon, to test for secret writing. ‘Then I’ll destroy it. No point in testing Calvin, but don’t sleep with it under your pillow.’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’

  For the present he would be standing by – for Burenko’s next move, for Switzerland, though he couldn’t for the life of him see how, for another attack, though that now seemed unlikely. He would tell Nick at once of any significant contacts.

  Nick promised to keep in touch, keep him up to date. ‘Keep an open mind over your mother and that Russian. It’ll be clear soon enough.’ Otherwise, Nick said, he should act as if the whole Dinah thing were water under the bridge. ‘Find yourself a girl. Look happy.’

  They would walk up to the next junction and head off in different directions.

  ‘One last thing, Nick. The other day, the colleague you called Bill came into the gallery to ask about a picture. Actually an 18th-century French landscape. A man who joined him fitted the description Walter Thomas gave me.’ He said the names. ‘Plus Lachlan Davidson and Rhees Rees. Four Cambridge men, Nick. Four Apostles. Fits your guess?’

  ‘Guess is right. They’re good. Without Dinah we’ll get nowhere.’

  After they parted, he walked back down to the river, tore Calvin in tiny pieces and scattered him over the dark waters.

  ****

  The telephone rang early, jolting him out of a deep, dreamless sleep.

  When he put the receiver to his ear, there was a pause. He could hear hooves stamping on cobbles. A fresh voice, instantly recognisable through the mist of sleep, spoke. ‘Intrinsicate.’

  ‘“Aspire to loosen this knot.”’

  ‘A message from brother Hugh. He tried you all yesterday and last evening, but now he’s on retreat.’

  ‘Well within our military tradition.’

  She went on without missing a beat. ‘I hope he won’t let this retreat become a victory. I’m sorry to ring so early, but I wanted to get you before my ride. The message is, Ponsonby says you’re to continue your attachment to the general’s staff while he sorts things out. The staff are expecting you to report. Hugh says it’s become a detachment. Is that different?’

  ‘Between getting on a train and getting off it.’

  ‘Gosh, you’re good for someone who’s half asleep. Also, you’re confirmed as sergeant. Congratulations.’

  She gave him place and time of reporting to the general’s new command: 0800 in a requisitioned school south of the river.

  ‘I think that’s all. I hope we’ll be seeing you again soon.’

  ‘How about dinner tonight?’

  She cupped her hand over the receiver. He could hear her shouting. ‘Sorry. My mount is getting restless. Dinner? Would that be in order?’

  ‘I believe a sergeant can have dinner with a lady clerk. She should really be a senior lady clerk, but in wartime we’ll probably get away with it.’

  She was going down to the family home in Windsor, but would come up early. He could pick her up from her C of E ladies’ hostel. Not far from the flat, as it happened.

  Putting down the telephone, he reflected that in other circumstances she would be a perfect family fit. No dark warnings about Amelia from The Military Cousin. Not that the cousin could offer advice from his prisoner-of-war camp, poor chap; the move to the Highland Division hadn’t been a good one. Amelia had class—unselfconscious class.

  A Baedeker guide to Switzerland was on the floor by his bed, open at Yverdon.

  Part Four: Sombre The Night

  Chapter One

  Was it the lingering smell of school life, of disinfectant and floor-polish, of porridge, boiled cabbage, shepherd’s pie? Or was it Colonel ffoulkes’s tone?

  ‘Note-taker to the Chief of Staff, the CoS, or other s
enior officers as required. That’s you.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Or perhaps the room, where he was standing easy in front of Colonel ffoulkes’s well-ordered desk? The school might have been requisitioned for a military headquarters but this room was still obstinately a housemaster’s study.

  ‘Follow them to meetings and conferences; keep a note of the discussion, any agreements and so on. Write it up afterwards for the diary and/or circulation. Sounds secretarial but, as you’ve seen, it’s no job for a woman. Have to listen intelligently and pull out the essentials for the record. These meetings can be a bit of a ramble.’

  He’d last seen Colonel ffoulkes when the general’s staff disembarked at Portsmouth after the return from Saint-Nazaire – a long and dangerous voyage in an armed trawler. The colonel had repeated his hope Peter would return to the staff—and here he was.

  ‘And this next part is very important.’ ffoulkes was tapping on his immaculate blotter with a neatly trimmed fingernail. ‘Meetings involving other commands or services. They’ll have their note-takers present. Afterwards there’s often a note-takers’ unofficial get-together, to arrive at an agreed version for the record.’ He spoke slowly and emphatically. ‘You will ensure the record shows what CoS wants. No nonsense from the other commands or services. He who writes the record wins the engagement.’ He put his hand flat on the blotter. ‘Never forget. The battle is won or lost on the record.’

  ‘“The readiness is all”, colonel.’

  ffoulkes looked away for a moment. ‘“If it be not now, yet it will come.” Now, I expect you’ve had enough of lectures on security, but as far as those other note-takers are concerned I must emphasise the need for total discretion. What is said in these headquarters stays in these headquarters. Understood?’

  ‘Understood, colonel.’

  ‘Of course, you’ll be sitting in on the heart of our anti-invasion planning, top secret naturally. I’m arranging the necessary passes. There was a query on your file but I pointed out your family and your background, and that I knew your parents. We all get up to some nonsense when young.’