‘Talk.’
There was no time for long explanations as Cal outlined what he was after and why. ‘The only person who has the information is Moravec, but I doubt it is safe to just turn up at the Interior Ministry desk and ask for him.’
‘You’re right, the place is crawling with German agents, not all of them from the border areas.’
‘The ministry, you mean?’
‘The whole city!’ Janek spat. ‘Even I might be being followed.’
Cal glanced back to where Vince was standing, idly looking at shoes in a shop window. He was without a lit cigarette, a sign that he had spotted no one taking an excessive interest in either Cal or Janek.
‘As far as I can tell you are not.’ Cal spun and used the back of the bench to lever himself up, surreptitiously dropping a card into Janek’s lap as he did so. ‘Get Moravec to call me at this number and ask to be put through to room number 47.’
‘What name?’
‘He doesn’t need that. Make it a personal visit and don’t you speak to him on the phone. After that you are out of it.’
‘A piece of advice.’
‘What?’ Cal replied, bending to retie his shoelace.
‘Speak English on the streets even if you are not understood, it will be better for you. Your German sounds too good, too natural and nothing like the accent of a Sudetenlander or a German resident of Prague. Even they know it’s considered unpatriotic to speak the language of our enemies right now and use Czech in public. My fellow countrymen are not too fond of real Germans at the moment.’
‘Just get Moravec to call.’
Cal walked back the way he had come, passing Vince without saying a word. His minder waited for ten seconds, then began to follow, his eyes ranging over those between them looking for things he had noticed before: an item of clothing, particularly distinctive shoes, they being the one thing, unlike a coat or a hat, which could not be quickly changed.
The voice sounded different on the phone, soft and near to a whisper. He did not know the man that well anyway, having met him only briefly, but Moravec spoke in heavily accented English and got his tenses all wrong. That nailed him.
‘St Vitus’s Cathedral at the rear of the high altar, three o’clock.’
Cal put the phone down without responding; there was no need to, though he did wonder at such an obscure location, as well as the need to meet in such secrecy in what was his contact’s own backyard. Still, Moravec was head of Czech counter-intelligence and perhaps being clandestine was a habit more than a necessity. Besides, he could do what he liked; it was Cal who needed him, not the other way round.
Gathering up Vince he took him to a restaurant in the old town, and when he ordered some food and a couple of beers, he took Janek’s advice and spoke loudly in English, like a tourist, though there were precious few of those around these days, which guaranteed them a great deal of attention.
As usual, there were locals who overheard him and were eager to talk, either to practise their own language skills or to find out what his country might do to assist their own, not a conversation in which he could give them much of a positive nature without telling outright lies.
As they left, a card was pressed into Cal’s hand with a guttural smiling invitation from the proprietor to return soon. Then it was a slow walk for Cal, Baedeker guide in hand, like a sightseer, through the old town and across the Charles Bridge, admiring the statues that lined it at intervals, flicking through the book to get the names of the various saints, with Vince his usual several dozen paces behind.
As Vince pointed out with a chuckle as they reunited in the cathedral entrance, if anyone was trying to tail Cal they must be going mad with the stopping and starting he had been doing. The upriver breeze had been welcome on what was a hot Central European day but the effect had faded by the time they had progressed uphill to Hradcany castle and the massive cathedral that lay within its walls.
Like all great churches St Vitus’s imposed a degree of silence on all those who entered; no one spoke above a whisper as they examined the plaques in the walls as well as the statuary, most of which were in the high arched nave.
As Cal made his way to the rear of the high altar Vince had already dropped back, seeking to look inconspicuous, but both suspected that Moravec, if he was going to all this trouble, would have some of his people watching and that in itself provided what security was required to cover the meeting. Cal stopped when the voice spoke from behind a stone pillar.
‘Mr Moncrief.’
Addressed by the name he had been using previously to buy those Spanish weapons, Cal responded in the affirmative.
‘Or should I say Mr Jardine?’
‘Either will do, General,’ Cal replied.
But he did not add the name he was using on the passport he had acquired from Snuffly Bower, just as he had not vouchsafed it to Janek, on the very good grounds that he had no idea what this meeting would produce.
He had taken to Moravec on that first meeting earlier in the year but the man was the head of Czech Foreign Intelligence and he had fish to fry that Cal knew nothing about. Just as Moravec would not vouchsafe to him things he did not need to know, neither would Cal be entirely open in return.
‘I never expect you to meet again.’
Moravec had chosen to speak in English, when they would have both been more comfortable in German; Cal felt he had no choice but to do likewise.
‘Nor I.’
‘Our contact me tells, you are this time not in Prague on behalf of Spanish Republicans.’
‘No.’
‘If as he me tells, you are British Government representing, why not through the embassy work?’
‘I only said that to get to you. I am not representing the British Government and have nothing to do with the embassy. I doubt the need to explain that to someone in your position, and besides, I am here for a quite different purpose to anything they might be acting on.’
‘Only thing they acting on is seeking number of Jews to process, many out of the country trying to get. You would think they would London advise best way to deal with exodus is to tell to keep within own borders the Germans.’
‘On pain of another war.’
‘Exact!’ Moravec responded, so loudly it produced a slight echo, showing a natural frustration at the lack of open support from the democracies. ‘Instead in the London newspapers we read is we who in not give Hitler what he wants are unreasonable being.’
Justified as it was, Cal did not want to listen to condemnation of his own government or the stories Downing Street was feeding to the press to soften up opinion. ‘The last time we spoke, you made mention of doubts in certain German minds regarding Hitler’s intentions.’
‘I did.’
‘I wondered if you had any more intelligence on that.’
‘Is that why you here?’
‘The only way certain parties can see to aid Czechoslovakia is to bring to the attention of the British Government just how strong that opposition is, perhaps with enough power to alter the course of German ambitions.’
‘Depose Hitler the only way that to do.’
‘If it could be established that by standing up to him such an outcome could be achieved it might alter the nature of those press reports you have just mentioned. It might stiffen the resolve of those in power to oppose him.’
‘Who you represent real, Mr Moncrief?’ Again Cal found the use of that name slightly jarring, but he was left with no time to consider it. ‘You have made plain it not truly the British Government by your own words.’
‘Are there people in Prague, General Moravec, who think it would be best to let Hitler have the Sudetenland for the sake of peace?’
‘Few only, but yes.’
‘Then accept there are those in London who disagree with the way things are being carried out by our government and want to do something to stop it.’
‘Names.’