by Max Hennessy
He was holding on to the counter now, as though he needed its support. ‘Got to get some lunch,’ he mumbled, turning away abruptly without apology. ‘Miriam,’ he announced to the woman behind the counter. ‘Im going in.’
Danny stared after him as he disappeared into the dining room. ‘Mr. Potter,’ she said. ‘He can’t be real!’
‘He’s real all right.’
‘But he’s so obvious – and,’ she paused, shocked, ‘and, Mr. Potter, you let him think that we – that I…’
Potter chuckled. ‘That’s why he talked,’ he pointed out. ‘Made him feel he was one of us. I knew that sooner or later I’d find a use for you.’
She stared at him, not knowing whether to laugh or be furious, and he gestured.
‘That accent of yours,’ he said. ‘Worth a guinea a box.’
Somewhat mollified, she stared again in the direction of the dining room. ‘Well, he didn’t stay long,’ she pointed out, vaguely disappointed. ‘And he didn’t say much.’
‘It was enough.’ Potter was unperturbed. ‘More than enough – thanks to you. Remind me when we get back that you’re in need of a rise.’
3
Kuprin – 2
Kuprin was still in the witness box when the court returned after the lunch-time adjournment, and Moyalan studied his papers for a while as the jury settled themselves into their seats, then he looked up at the Russian.
‘We had reached the point,’ he said, ‘when the mutiny in the Slavska Barracks had just been put down. We’ll take it a step further now. Was that, in fact, the end of the mutiny?’
Kuprin paused. ‘For the night it was,’ he said slowly. ‘The Dimitriev Regiment had started it but Major Higgins took their machine guns and managed to restore order there, too. Many of the men had disappeared into the town, of course, and we never saw them again, and there were also many deserters from the engineers and the artillery. Major Higgins didn’t trust those who were left, so he arranged for the guns to be parked in front of the British quarters and their breech blocks removed so they couldn’t be fired.’
Moyalan gestured. ‘He didn’t, of course, imagine for a moment that this was a complete safeguard?’
‘Certainly not,’ Kuprin said. ‘He made it very clear that this was merely a precaution for the safety of the British. The officers of the Russian units protested, of course, but there wasn’t very much they could do.’
Moyalan nodded. ‘Thank you. Now, what about the Kouragine Regiment?’
Kuprin thought for a moment. ‘Major Higgins put twenty-five men into the cells. The rest he allowed to return to their barrack rooms.’
‘What about the Englishmen who had been involved? – Hardacre and the others.’
‘Major Higgins did not put them in the cells because he felt that as soon as Budenny approached the town, the whole thing would start again and he wanted to be ready to move. He felt we might have to force our way south, and he felt we might need every man.’
‘Did he take other precautions?’
‘In the early hours of November 4th, he called the officers together to tell them his intentions.’
‘And what happened?’
‘We’d just started when we saw Colonel Prideaux standing in the doorway.’
* * *
Prideaux’s uniform was white with snow that lay wet and heavy in the folds of his coat, and his eyes were hot and angry.
‘What the devil’s going on?’ he demanded.
Finch was standing just behind him, his face still showing a trace of the black eye that everybody knew he’d received somehow in a still unexplained scuffle with Higgins, and then Kuprin saw Murray-Hughes was beyond Finch and realised he must have met them as they returned. It was just as if the two groups were already in opposition.
‘What happened to my signal?’ Prideaux demanded.
Murray-Hughes’ voice came from the back of the group. ‘Hardacre forgot it, Colonel,’ he put in.
‘I want to hear from Major Higgins,’ Prideaux snapped.
Higgins said nothing for a moment, standing quietly between the two groups. ‘I’ve put Hardacre on a charge,’ he said at last.
‘Murray-Hughes tells me he was involved in a mutiny. Has he been charged with that?’
Higgins met his eye, small, pale, insignificant and quite steady. ‘I didn’t consider his part in the affair to be mutiny,’ he said.
Finch stepped forward. ‘There were seven of them, weren’t there?’ he intervened. ‘And an officer’s been murdered. Surely that constitutes a mutiny?’
Higgins’ eyes didn’t waver. ‘I felt we might need every man,’ he pointed out. ‘It seemed wiser to take the merciful view.’
Prideaux frowned. ‘After all your talk of unreliability, Higgins,’ he said sharply, ‘I’d have thought you’d have come down hard on a thing like this. There’s a great deal of confusion in Khaskov and General Inde’s sick and unavailable, so it’s up to us. We must make an example of these men. The charge will be “mutiny”.’ He turned to Finch. ‘See that these men are put under guard at once, and arrange to convene a court martial. If they’re not guilty, they’ll be freed. If they are, then God help them.’
* * *
‘Was that the end of it?’ Moyalan asked.
Kuprin shook his head. ‘No. Later in the day, the Colonel called another officers’ meeting to discuss the situation in the town. Hardacre was under close arrest with his friends by this time, and Major Higgins tried to persuade the Colonel to change his mind about them.’
* * *
They were all in Prideaux’s office, crowded round the single oil lamp on the table that lit the bony planes of their faces with a yellow glow. Finch looked harassed and very depressed, and no one seemed to have any plan of action, save Prideaux who insisted with a stubbornness that seemed unreasonable that Hardacre and the others should remain in their cells.
‘God damn it, Higgins,’ he said angrily. ‘They should be shot for this. They’ve ruined any chance of mercy.’
‘Colonel,’ Higgins pointed out in his quiet voice, ‘these men are under a heavy strain. They’re surrounded night and day by propaganda and disaffection such as they’ve never been subjected to before. Not even during the war. They have no regimental tradition to take a pride in. They’re all young, and they’re all physically third-raters.’
Potter tried to add weight to Higgins’ words. ‘Smart chap, Hardacre, Colonel,’ he put in mildly. ‘Damn’ useful, too, with his Russian. Probably showing off a bit, that’s all. Nervous, shouldn’t wonder. Like me.’
A few of them laughed at Potter’s self-deprecation, but Prideaux didn’t even smile.
‘This is a court-martial offence,’ he insisted. ‘We can’t start bending King’s Regulations to suit ourselves.’
‘What if Budenny comes?’ MacAdoo asked bluntly.
‘You know the punishment for mutiny,’ Finch interrupted importantly from his seat at the desk.
‘Doubtless the Judge Advocate will take the circumstances into consideration and be lenient,’ Prideaux pointed out more calmly, ‘but no British military court could ignore a case like this.’
He stood up and picked up his hat. ‘My mind is made up,’ he said. ‘I saw the disruption of Germany in 1918 – I was there – and I detest Communists and I detest mutineers.’
As he disappeared, Finch rose, too, and stared round at the others nervously. He paused for a moment, as though about to speak, then he also picked up his hat and followed.
* * *
There was an uneasy quiet about the Slavska Barracks that night. All the noise seemed to be coming from the town. They could hear shouts and even occasional shots and they knew that the local Communists were growing more daring, and Barry had been up to demand a detachment to guard the telegraph office.
That evening, with the snow beginning to lay thickly on the ground, white against the iron-black of the buildings, a messenger had clattered into the barracks, coming down the road from th
e northwest. His horse was dying on its feet even as it passed the guardroom and, as its rider slid from the saddle, it sank to its knees, then fell forward, its head extended, a bloody froth blowing through its nostrils to stain the snow.
Budenny was only forty miles away and moving fast across the north of Nikolovssk.
* * *
‘What was Colonel Prideaux’s reaction to the news?’ Moyalan asked.
The silence in the courtroom was deathly as they waited for Kuprin’s reply.
‘He seemed quite frantic,’ he said quietly. ‘Frantic to do something but uncertain what. He seemed obsessed with his humiliation in France and desperate to prove himself. He couldn’t stand still. He was restless and fidgety and kept referring to his anxiety to go out and fight. “We just can’t sit here,” he kept saying. “We just can’t sit and wait.” But his orders, as we all knew, were that the British were to take no part in the fighting and the regiment had already been told to be prepared to withdraw. We all suspected that the final order to move south had been lost or delayed by Communists on the railway.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Because I was the only man apart from Hardacre, who was now in the cells, who could speak both English and Russian adequately, I was given the job of handling the messages. There were a great many to be sent off because Colonel Prideaux and Major Finch had been working for some time getting down all the facts about Hardacre and the mutiny. Now the Colonel began to prepare further messages begging – insisting – that he be allowed to move north towards where Budenny was known to be.’
‘What happened to these messages?’
‘Several he tore up, but he finally wrote one that satisfied him.’
‘Did you see it?’
‘I handed it to Captain Barry’s signaller.’
‘What were its contents?’
‘It was a very strong request to take the Kouragines into action.’
‘Did Major Higgins say anything to the Colonel about it?’
‘Yes. He kept telling the Colonel that we weren’t supposed to get involved in Russian affairs and he was warning him to take care, and in the end the Colonel turned on him. He said “I didn’t come here to retreat.” He seemed quite set on moving north.’
‘Were any replies received to these messages, from Khaskov?’
‘One. On the morning of November 5th. It simply ordered him to await instructions.’
‘You remember the message?’
‘Yes. I saw it. It was a long message and stated what Major Higgins had said – that the British were not to get themselves involved in any fighting. It pointed out that they were there in an advisory capacity only and they were not to go into action. It was in very firm tones.’
‘What was Colonel Prideaux’s reaction to this new message?’
‘He wrote another stronger request to be allowed to move north. He said it was imperative that Budenny should be stopped. He said it was important for the safety of the British troops in Nikolovssk.’
‘Was that so?’
‘The obvious thing in my opinion was to group near the station for a move south.’
Kirkham rose to his feet. ‘I object, my lord,’ he said. ‘This witness was a junior officer at the time. He can’t be asked for an opinion on a thing that belonged in the sphere of a staff officer.’
Godliman looked at Moyalan who gestured.
‘Very well, my lord,’ he said. ‘I’ll withdraw the question.’
The judge nodded at the shorthand writer to strike the question and answer from the evidence and Moyalan looked again at Kuprin.
‘This message that Colonel Prideaux sent was, in fact, the last that was sent by him from Nikolovssk on this subject, was it not?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you took it to the station?’
‘Yes.’
* * *
From the Stutz as he was driven into town, Kuprin saw several corpses lying in shop doorways round the bullet-splashed entrance to the Tsar Alexander I Hotel, and a few smashed windows, and here and there bloodstains marking the thickening snow. Some Russian colonel, he learned, had struck a drunken soldier with his riding whip and had paid for it with his life in the riot that followed.
Kuprin shivered, not so much with the cold as with a growing apprehension. With his Russian instinct for doom, he knew they had reached the end of the road.
Watched by the surly railwaymen, he handed over the message to Barry, who glanced at it, then took from their folder the messages that had come from the south. His face was sombre.
‘You can tell Prideaux that he’s too late,’ he said, passing the messages across the desk. ‘We’re off. They call it a general re-deployment but that’s what it means. The whole shooting match’s falling apart. It’s in plain language, too. It lets everybody know we’re going.’
Back at the barracks, Kuprin handed the messages to Potter, who was on duty in the guardroom.
‘The order to move south is there,’ he said.
Potter looked up quickly, then he hurriedly began to read the forms, while Kuprin stared through the window towards where the white-decked spires of the town showed against the leaden sky.
Potter was silent for a moment, then he flipped the sheets of paper with his fingers. ‘Plain language,’ he said, like Barry. ‘Must be in a fine old muck-sweat down in Kaskov. Wager it’s all round the town already.’
They drove straight to the Vronskins’ house, and the Stutz slid to a stop with locked wheels outside. Prideaux was sipping coffee with Finch, and Kuprin watched from outside the room as Potter approached them. Finch looked up fretfully, tired-looking as though he’d had a bad night.
‘Do you have to come barging in at coffee time?’ he demanded.
Potter ignored him and placed the message form on the table alongside Prideaux. ‘Instructions to clear out,’ he said bluntly.
Prideaux stared at him, then pushed his chair back, his cup still in his hand.
Finch had risen to his feet by this time, and Prideaux picked up the paper, still staring at Potter. Then his eyes f ell to the message, almost unwillingly.
‘We’re withdrawing,’ he said in a shocked voice. ‘We’re getting out of Russia! Everybody! Every single one of us! Just giving up!’
He stood up and slammed his cup to the saucer. ‘We’re getting out,’ he repeated in numbed tones. ‘Without a single attempt to stop them!’
Finch looked nervously at Potter and said nothing.
‘It’s rank weakness!’ Prideaux spoke again, bitterly. ‘Rank lily-livered politician’s weakness!’
While Potter and Kuprin waited, he walked slowly up and down, thinking.
‘Shall I inform Major Higgins to prepare to leave?’ Potter asked.
Unexpectedly, Prideaux shook his head and, as he lifted his face, Kuprin saw his eyes were unusually bright. ‘We’re not moving back to Khaskov,’ he said slowly.
‘But the signal, Colonel?’ Potter’s words came quietly.
‘We never received it,’ Prideaux said, his manner suddenly brisk. ‘Budenny’s only forty miles away. I’m going to meet him.’
‘Meet him?’ Potter’s jaw dropped, and Finch stepped forward nervously. ‘Colonel, what could we do against Budenny?’
Prideaux smiled, strangely relaxed again and confident. ‘We’ve got three good squadrons of British cavalry, haven’t we?’ he said.
‘Colonel, two of them are Russian and totally unreliable!’
Prideaux gestured airily. ‘We can make sure, then, that they’re where they can’t get up to mischief.’
Potter tried again. ‘Colonel, we can’t watch two squadrons with one!’
Prideaux patted his shoulder. ‘Then Higgins can bring up his armoured cars behind them with his machine guns uncovered. They’ll know what that means.’
Potter glanced at Kuprin and then at Finch, as though seeking support. Prideaux was buttoning his jacket now, his frustration gone abruptly, his anger melted now that he h
ad made up his mind.
His face was set, however. ‘Somebody’s going to notice us before we leave,’ he said.
* * *
Moyalan put down his papers on the table in front of him and stared at Kuprin.
‘Did Major Higgins protest to Colonel Prideaux when he found out?’ he asked.
‘He did protest,’ Kuprin replied. ‘But it did no good. Colonel Prideaux was set on having one last fling before he was forced to withdraw. He held an officers’ conference and said it was to enable the refugees and the women and children to get away.’
‘Was Colonel Prideaux’s view your view?’
‘No. The railway yard had come to a complete standstill already and Captain Barry could do nothing. It would have been much more sensible to take the whole of the British squadron and the loyal elements of the other two to the station and used the threat of their presence to force some action out of the shunters.’
Kirkham rose at once. ‘Milord, defence is asking witness for an opinion again. This is the second time in ten minutes.’
The judge looked at Moyalan who bowed. ‘Very well, my lord,’ he said. ‘I’ll put it a different way.’
He turned to Kuprin. ‘Was anything said to Major Finch after the conference?’
Kuprin gave a twisted smile. ‘Yes. Captain Potter asked Major Finch what he thought the Colonel was after and Major Finch replied to the effect that the Colonel did not like Communists, and as his fighting career had so far been very short and undistinguished, if he could advance it at the expense of the Communists he would gladly do so. He wasn’t, however, feeling as cheerful as he sounded.’
‘Where was Mr. Murray-Hughes during this period?’
‘He was still with us. There’d been no time to help him get a train. And now Colonel Prideaux sent me for him.’