by C. J. Sansom
THE SNOW had been cleared from the front of the embassy. There was no wind and the Union Jack hung lifeless from its pole. Harry passed the two civiles outside, huddled in their capes. The meeting was in Tolhurst’s office again. Hillgarth was already there, in naval uniform today, sitting behind the desk smoking Players. Tolhurst stood studying papers. From the wall, the King’s thin sombre face looked down from his portrait.
‘Morning, Harry,’ Tolhurst said.
‘Morning. Sorry I’m late, the trams aren’t running with this snow.’
‘OK.’ Hillgarth said. ‘I want to review the position with Forsyth. I’ve been looking at the reports of your recent meetings. He’s not saying any more about the gold mine, but you say he seems worried.’
‘Yes, sir, he does.’
Hillgarth drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘We can’t get any information out of Maestre on the mine. We know he’s on that oversight committee now, but he won’t say anything. No matter what we offer him.’ Hillgarth raised his eyebrows at Harry. ‘There’s still no sign of his man Gomez. For which he blames us. Particularly you, Harry.’ Hillgarth lit a fresh cigarette, exhaling in a rush of breath. ‘You’d better steer clear of him from now on.’
‘I saw him in the Rastro a couple of weeks ago. He wasn’t very friendly.’
‘I imagine not.’ Hillgarth thought a moment. ‘Tell me, d’you think Forsyth is someone who could get actively involved in foul play?’
‘I think he could,’ Harry said slowly. ‘If he felt his interests were threatened.’
Hillgarth nodded. ‘We need to know about that mine, what gold resources the regime’s banking on. The only avenue we’ve got left now is Forsyth.’ Hillgarth looked at him speculatively. ‘I’d like to give you a chance to redeem yourself. We’re thinking of trying to recruit him. Since Maestre won’t be bribed. Tell him, Tolly.’
Tolhurst looked at him with owlish seriousness. ‘This is classified information, Harry. You remember you asked about the Knights of St George.’
Harry nodded.
‘Our government has set aside large sums to bribe people here in Spain. High-up Monarchists in the regime and anyone else who has a voice with the government and can argue for Spain staying out of the war.’
‘Most embassies have funds for bribery,’ Hillgarth went on. ‘But this is on a different scale. It’s not just dislike of the Fascists that makes Maestre feed us information. Him and a good few other senior figures. If Forsyth were to come over to us we could make funds available to him. And diplomatic protection if necessary. I’ve decided it’s the only way to find out about the gold. The shares in that company of his are falling fast. I guess Maestre and his committee are putting the squeeze on him. They want to wrest control of the gold from the Falange.’
‘That would fit, sir.’
‘London wants to know if there is gold, and how much. They’re putting pressure on Sam but he can’t even get an appointment with Franco at the moment. He’s going out of his way to treat us with disdain to please the Germans. And what we’ve learned about Forsyth’s personality makes me think he’d be willing to jump into our ship if his project’s in trouble.’ He leaned forward. ‘What d’you think, Harry?’
Harry thought a moment. ‘If he’s in trouble my guess would be he’d do it.’ He had come to despise Sandy, but found that the prospect of Hillgarth throwing him a lifeline made him feel relieved.
‘If he needs an escape route he’d be happy with less money,’ Tolhurst added. ‘We don’t want to strain the budget.’
Harry looked at Hillgarth seriously. ‘I don’t know how far you could trust Sandy though. He always plays his own game.’
Hillgarth smiled. ‘Oh, I can see that. Actually, I think Forsyth could make a very good spy. Someone who likes having secrets, perhaps enjoys the frisson of danger. Does that sound about right?’
‘I’d say so long as the danger doesn’t come too close. I think perhaps he’s scared now.’ Harry added, looking Hillgarth in the eye, ‘You could be taking on someone who’s been involved in murder.’
He inclined his head. ‘He wouldn’t be the first, we can’t be choosy.’
There was silence for a moment. Tolhurst broke it. ‘Has Forsyth any politics?’
‘I think he’d support any system that allowed him free rein to make money. That’s why he likes Franco. He hates the Communists of course.’ Harry paused. ‘But he’s no loyalty to Britain, none at all.’
‘Father’s a bishop, isn’t he?’ Hillgarth asked. ‘Clergy’s sons often go wonky.’
‘Sandy thinks the church and all the old traditions are out to stifle people like him.’
‘He’s got a point.’ Hillgarth nodded, then steepled his hands in front of him. ‘OK, this is what we’ll do. See Forsyth again. Just tell him there’s someone at the embassy who’s got a proposition for him. Don’t give too much away, just encourage him to come. You can say you’ve got contacts on the intelligence side if you think that’d be useful. If you can pull this off you can wipe the slate clean, go home with a bit of a feather in your cap.’
Harry nodded. ‘I’ll do what I can. I’m meeting Barbara for lunch today. I can try to arrange something then.’ Thank God it’s the last thing they want, he thought.
‘Good. How is Forsyth’s wife?’
‘I don’t think they’re very happy.’
‘She still doesn’t know anything about his business?’
‘No. I’m pretty sure he tells her nothing.’
‘We were worried you might be forming an attachment there till you hooked up with this dairymaid,’ Hillgarth said. He gave Harry a sudden and unwelcome wink.
AS HARRY WALKED to the town centre at lunchtime he thought about his interview. Hillgarth’s casual dismissal of Gomez and what Sandy might have done chilled him. Didn’t they know what it was like for a normal person, having to do this work? Little gangs of men were out, desultorily sweeping the snow from the pavements with brooms and spades. Harry looked out for Enrique among them but did not see him.
Barbara had suggested meeting him and Sofia at the Café Gijón. Harry thought it a strange choice; he knew Barbara used to go there with Bernie during the Civil War. She had still hardly mentioned his name. Poor Bernie, he thought, at least he never saw what Spain had turned into.
The bar was full of wealthy Madrilenõs taking coffee and complaining about the snow. There was a wet oily smell. Harry took a café con leche to an empty corner. He realized he was very early.
Sandy and the spies would suit each other, he thought. Well, he would leave them to it and go home. But, he thought, home to what? Back to Cambridge, alone. He looked at his face in the mirrors. He had lost weight since coming here, it suited him. Could he get Sofia out? he wondered. Was there any way? He would have to take Paco, too; she would never leave him. To be able to get them away, get them to England. And what if it didn’t work out? Part of his mind said, too, that he was mad, he’d only met her six weeks ago.
The barman had put his change in the saucer. One of the new five-peseta coins with Franco’s head on. He thought again of Hillgarth talking calmly of recruiting someone who might be a murderer, telling him how they bribed the Monarchists. Hoare had said he’d sweated blood trying to convince the Monarchists he and they spoke a common language. He’s sweated gold, too, Harry thought. People like Maestre talking about Spanish honour, the traditions they were protecting, and all the time taking bribes from a potential enemy. And Britain was interested in Spain only for its strategic value – even if they won the war Spain would probably be left to Franco, forgotten again.
He hunched over his cup. He thought, perhaps it would be better if Hitler did invade Spain. Even Sandy said the regime was weak; perhaps the people would rise up against the Germans as they had against Napoleon. But then Gibraltar would go and Britain would be weakened even further. He remembered the picture he had seen on his first day, the German and Spanish soldiers greeting each other at the border. The Führer and the
Caudillo in eternal friendship, victorious in Europe. It was a horrible thought. He looked at his set face in the mirror. He would do this last thing: he would try to recruit Sandy for them.
He jumped at a hand on his shoulder. Sofia was standing there, wrapped in her old black coat. Her face was flushed; with the pleasure of seeing him, he realized with a warm glow. She smiled. ‘What were you thinking about?’
‘Nothing. Just some problems at work. Here, sit down.’
‘Is Barbara not here yet?’
‘No.’ He looked at his watch, surprised to see it was nearly one o’clock. ‘She’s late. Let me get you a coffee.’
She hesitated for a second. ‘OK.’
There had been arguments about Harry paying for everything and buying her presents as well. He had said, ‘I’ve got money, maybe I don’t deserve it, but I have. Why shouldn’t I spend some of it on you?’
‘People will say I am a kept woman,’ she had replied, blushing.
Harry had realized Sofia wasn’t as free of what she called ‘bourgeois
sensibilities’ as she liked to think.
‘You know it’s not true, that’s what matters.’
But she wouldn’t let him give the family money; she said they could manage. Harry wished she would let him do more at the same time as he loved her pride. He fetched her coffee.
‘How’s Paco?’
‘Very quiet. Enrique is with him today; it is his day off too.’ With Elena dead and Sofia and Enrique both working, the little boy had to be left alone in the flat most days now. He refused to go out unless one of the adults came with him.
“He liked the crayons you brought him. He wants to know when the red-haired lady will come again. She made an impression on him. He calls her “the kind lady”.’
‘We could ask her if she’d like to visit.’
‘That would be good.’ Sofia frowned. ‘I am afraid one day Paco will let Senõra Avila in. I know she comes knocking. I have told him not to answer. The knocking scares him, it reminds him of when his parents were taken. But I am frightened one day he will open the door and she will take him because he is on his own.’
‘He won’t open the door if he’s scared of her.’
‘We cannot carry on like this for ever, just leaving him at home on his own.’
‘No.’ Harry agreed.
‘I will not lose him.’ Sofia sighed. ‘Do you think we are silly, burdening ourselves like this? Enrique thinks so sometimes, I know, but he has also come to love Paco.’
He thought, she’s lost her mother, now she’s frightened of losing the boy, and if they send me back home she’ll lose me. He frowned.
‘What is it, Harry?’
‘Nothing.’ He looked up to see Barbara approaching, her headscarf and glasses dotted with snowflakes, and waved her over.
‘Sorry I’m late. It’s started up again outside.’
‘I have never seen anything like it,’ Sofia said. ‘The drought in the summer and now this.’
Harry got up and took Barbara’s coat. ‘Shall we get the lunch menu?’
She raised a hand. ‘No, listen. I’m awfully sorry, but I can’t stay. I’ve an appointment on the other side of town at two and the trams aren’t running, I’ll have to walk. Just get me a coffee, could you?’
‘All right.’ Harry studied Barbara. There was something serious, determined in her manner. He fetched another coffee. When he returned Barbara and Sofia were talking earnestly.
‘Barbara says Paco needs to see a doctor,’ Sofia told him.
‘Well, a doctor might have some ideas how to help. I could help pay—’ He bit his lip as Sofia frowned. He shouldn’t have spoken about giving her money in front of Barbara.
‘If it could help the poor little scrap,’ Barbara said. ‘But I realize it’s difficult.’
‘Have you started at the veterans’ hospital?’ Harry asked her, changing the subject.
‘Yes, it’s better than that orphanage at least. But war wounds, awful injuries. All the things the Red Cross tried to prevent.’ She sighed. ‘Oh well, it’s too late to think like that now.’ She looked at Harry. ‘I may be going home for Christmas after all.’
‘To England?’
‘Yes, you remember, Sandy suggested it, and I thought, why not? At least I’ll get to see how things really are there.’
‘Will they let you back into Spain?’ Sofia asked. ‘I suppose so, as your husband is working here.’
Barbara hesitated. ‘I should think so.’
But Sandy’s not her husband, Harry thought. Something occurred to him. ‘It’s the same the other way round, isn’t it? I mean, if an Englishman had, say, a Spanish fiancée, he might have problems taking her into England. But if you’re married they’ll let you both in.’
‘Yes,’ Barbara said. ‘At least that’s how it was before the war. I remember all those rules from the Red Cross. Getting refugees from one country to another.’ She looked blank for a moment. ‘Less than five years ago. It seems a lifetime.’
Sofia lowered her voice. ‘There is still the risk Franco could declare war.’
Barbara took off her glasses, which had steamed up, and cleaned them on her handkerchief. Without them, her face looked more attractive but vulnerable as well. She stirred her coffee carefully, then looked up at them.
‘I probably won’t come back,’ she said flatly. ‘I don’t think Sandy and I can go on.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said. ‘I could see you weren’t happy.’
Barbara drew on her cigarette. ‘I owe him a lot. He put me back together again after – after Bernie. But I don’t think I like the shape he put me back into any more.’ She laughed awkwardly. ‘Sorry to blurt all this out. Only I’ve had no one to talk to, you see. Does it make sense?’
‘There comes a time when you have to face things,’ Harry said. ‘Take the blinkers off.’ He shook his head. He looked at Sofia. ‘Spain’s done that for me. Made me see the world’s more complicated than I realized.’
Barbara looked at him, stared at him in that odd, keen way. ‘It certainly is.’
There was silence for a few moments. ‘Have you told him that you will not be coming back?’ Sofia asked Barbara.
‘No. He doesn’t care any more anyway. I’ve got a – a bit of business to see to, then I’ll go over for Christmas. I hope.’
‘I think Sandy might have business problems,’ Harry ventured.
‘Do you know something?’ Barbara asked.
Harry hesitated. ‘He was going to get me involved in – in one of his companies. But it fell through.’
‘What company?’
‘I don’t know. I know very little.’
Barbara nodded. ‘I’m sorry if I seem disloyal,’ she said, ‘but I’ve watched you with him. You don’t really like him now, do you? You just keep up with him because of the old school thing?’
‘Well – something like that.’
‘It’s strange, he wants your approval.’ She turned to Sofia. ‘The bonds between men who went to these English public schools, there’s nothing like it in Spain.’ She laughed a little hysterically. Sofia looked embarrassed. Harry thought, she’s close to the edge.
Barbara bit her lip. ‘You will both keep this quiet, won’t you? I’m sorry.’
‘Of course.’
Sofia smiled. ‘Paco keeps asking after you. Perhaps you could come and see him again, before you go back to England.’
Barbara smiled too. ‘I’d like to. Thanks. Maybe we could take him out somewhere. A treat.’
Harry took a deep breath. ‘I do need to talk to Sandy about something. To do with that business deal. Do you know if he’s in his office today?’
‘He should be.’ Barbara glanced at her watch. ‘Oh God, I must go. I’m sorry, I’ve kept you from your lunch, telling you all my woes. I am sorry.’
‘It’s all right. Listen, ring me, we’ll arrange for you to come and see Paco.’
‘I will. Good to see you both.’ She leane
d across and kissed Sofia’s cheek in the Spanish way, then got up and walked to the door, pausing to tie on her headscarf. Harry watched her, but he was thinking, marriage. Could he dare take that leap? And would Sofia have him? He could find out more at the embassy, but first he must try to recruit Sandy; get Hillgarth’s feather in his cap.
Barbara opened the door. She turned and gave them a quick wave, then disappeared into the whirling snowflakes.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
BARBARA CURSED HERSELF inwardly as she walked away. She hadn’t meant to spill everything out like that. It had been seeing them sitting together; they looked so domestic, so safe somehow.
She had been afraid for a while, after overhearing that telephone call, that Harry was involved in whatever awful things Sandy was mixed up in. But watching him later, she had realized he couldn’t be; he was being used as some sort of pawn. Thank God the deal was off, whatever it had been. She felt guilty every time she saw Harry because he still thought Bernie was dead. Her appointment was with Luis; today she hoped to discuss the actual plans for Bernie’s escape. Agustín, she knew, was back from his leave. She had suggested meeting Harry in the Café Gijón because now the possibility of seeing Bernie was so close, Barbara wanted to revisit all the places they had been together, places she had avoided for so long. Three years in prison camps, she thought. What will he be like? How will he react to me? She told herself she mustn’t hope for anything, they would both have changed beyond recognition. She must just hope to get him out.
The snow was still coming down heavily, covering cars and the coats of the people moving through the storm like white wraiths. It was melting through her headscarf; she should have brought a hat. The wind blew it against her glasses and she had to wipe them with her gloved hands.
She passed two civiles on guard outside a government office; with their heavy capes and bicorn hats covered in snow they looked like snowmen with grim masks painted on. It was the first time the sight of a civil had made her want to laugh.