‘Some you will know, General, for they have the capacity to be open, and those you don’t I will not divulge because they do not.’
Moravec did not reply and Cal supposed he needed time to think on what had just been said. He was leaning against one of the long stone pillars that supported the high arched roof, and even if he was not a churchgoer, he had often wondered at the effort and artistry that had gone into such constructions as these great cathedrals, many of which he had stood in with something approaching awe: Notre Dame, Canterbury, Chartres, Bourges.
Masons had chipped away at stone for decades to produce these smooth blocks that lay on each other and seemed to be bereft of mortar, had carved the gargoyles and decor, exactly reproducing the same design again and again, and then had come along men with lead, glass and vision to create the great stained glass window which now dimly lit the place where he stood.
It was not too fanciful to see that shattered, to see the great pillars break and tumble. In Spain, Cal had seen the effect of aerial bombardment. If the Luftwaffe was let loose over this jewel of a city then they would do to Prague what the Condor Legion had done to Guernica and tried to do to Madrid — destroy it — and that thought was in the mind of everyone who lived in the city.
‘You suggesting,’ Moravec said, eventually, ‘we can something get with my help?’
Amazing though this wonderful building was, Cal had to again ask himself: why here? Why all the subterfuge? And then he recalled what Janek had said that morning. ‘Why are we meeting in such secrecy, General?’
The sigh was audible and seemed to fit the surroundings in which they had met. ‘Even in my own city, safe from the eyes of my enemies I am not.’
‘German agents?’
‘Those, yes, and traitors, like those you ask about.’
That induced an unpleasant thought: if there were forty thousand Jews in Prague there had to be, in what until twenty years ago had been part of a German-speaking empire, at least that number of Germans who had made their homes here during the rule of Vienna.
There might well be Czech traitors, but it also meant that spies, particularly those of an Austrian background, bilingual in Czech from having lived in the city all their lives, and prepared to back the Nazis, could operate in the city almost with impunity.
‘Few, you said.’
‘Too many if who are they we not know. Most nationals German do not Hitler want, not even all in the borderlands. They from their contacts over border know what he brings, but some are seeing for themselves a good chance to rise.’
‘Do you have agents inside Germany?’ Moravec just laughed softly; the answer was too obvious to require a reply. ‘And perhaps contacts with those who oppose Hitler?’
‘You want I should you tell, I think.’
‘Yes.’
That brought a laugh that was loud enough to create another slight echo. ‘Not safe for them, not safe for me.’
There was a definite truth in that; if the head of counter-intelligence felt he had to be cautious in his own bailiwick, how much more must he show that quality in dealing with his contacts inside the Reich, where the slightest suspicion of disloyalty was paid out with a bullet to the skull — and that was if you were lucky. To this man he was an unknown quantity in what he was up to at present and hardly worth immediate trust.
The problem for Cal was, without the help of someone like Moravec he was pissing into the wind. The more he had thought about it, the more he had seen the answer lying outside Czechoslovakia but he could not just go stumbling about Germany looking for contacts. If he did it was he who would get the bullet, but to just allow himself to be fobbed off having gone to the trouble to get this far was not an option either.
‘Look, General, this is not about whether the people of whom we speak will act, it is about the notion that my government thinks they will do so if they are given encouragement. You are right that I do not represent either Downing Street or the Foreign Office but I do act on behalf of some very powerful people indeed.’
He paused to let that sink in, wondering what else he could offer.
‘I also have access to funds, if needed, to both help and encourage those who might rise up, and something tells me, with the beginning of the Nuremberg Rally and what might emerge from that, we do not have long to make a case for the democracies of the West to act.’
‘The first day of October, a month from now, Mr Moncrief, the day the Germans will invade.’
‘You know this?’
‘Told I have been, by those who have the orders read.’
Clever, Cal thought, though he was not surprised. He had rated, even on a very short meeting, that Moravec was as sharp as a tack and now he had just shown it. Without the use of a name or a title, he had just told him how high were his contacts in Germany. Orders like that had to be of the highest secrecy level, shown only to very few people, and they had to be trusted to keep their mouths shut. But someone had not.
‘Have you told your allies?’ He meant the French and the Soviets.
‘Of course, and we also Major Gibson told, your SIS man at British embassy.’
Who would have surely passed that back to London and it would have been given to those at the very top of the Government, which made Cal wonder why he was here. That did not last long; it was like those envoys Vansittart had talked of — it had either been discounted or not even rated as true.
‘Force levels?’
‘Foolish to attack without men enough.’
Was Moravec being cagey or did he have those facts too? Alone, that should have been enough to show the likes of Chamberlain that Hitler was talking rubbish when he claimed he wanted a peaceful solution. Yet Vansittart had described the PM as vain and convinced of his own political genius and leading a cabinet that would not challenge him. He needed more.
‘I have lived in Germany, General Moravec, and I know, as do you, that to overturn the Nazi state will not be easy — too many ruthless people have a stake in its continuance. Likewise, those who might act will not do so unless they know it will have an effect. The ordinary Germans do not want war any more than the ordinary Czech or Briton, they suffered too much in the last show.’
Cal waited for a response, but none came.
‘You do not have the ability to get them to act, otherwise you would be doing so. I mean no insult when I say that to those people your country is of no consequence. Only the threat of an attack in the West will give Hitler pause…’
Moravec finally responded with another laugh. ‘You understand not, Mr Moncrief. An attack in West Hitler expects.’
‘He doesn’t have the manpower.’
‘But,’ Moravec replied, finally changing to German. ‘Hitler is a madman. He believes all he needs is the will and success is guaranteed. Is that not how he rose to power in the first place? Go back to the hotel and wait. I need to think.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Peter Lanchester had been somewhat disingenuous with Cal Jardine about the fellow he suspected might have dished them in La Rochelle, because, despite what Quex had told him, he had been doing a spot of gentle digging around to add some meat to what were, from his boss, suppositions.
It was absolutely certain, given the desk he ran, that the information about the shipment of light machine guns from Brno, as it should, had come to Noel McKevitt first; whom he had shared that knowledge with, apart from his own department, Quex and the top floor, was an unknown.
But it transpired he had been poking about asking questions since shortly after Peter had gone to Czechoslovakia, enquiries that had continued all the time he had been absent and had not abated on his return, no doubt prompted by the fact that he had not himself been asked to pursue a matter that fell under his area of responsibility.
‘Do you know this Lanchester fellow?’ ‘Any idea about his areas of speciality?’ ‘Bit weak on the dictators I hear.’ There had even been a blatant one. ‘Anyone got a notion of where he is? I want him to do a job for me.’