‘Ach, du lieber Gott!’ Otto faced Fred, open-mouthed. ‘Sir?’
‘What would you like?’ Audley moved into the instant of silence.
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It took Fred another second to gather his wits. ‘What have you got?’
Audley grinned. ‘You name it – we’ve got it. Except ... if you’ve acquired a taste for that dreadful Greek retsina . . . and we’re not actually very good on Italian wines, either.’ He paused. ‘Bordeaux and Burgundy . . . we have some unconsidered trifles, which are almost settled down now. But we shall be offering them with Otto’s pig. And I would personally recommend the Haul Brion, rather than the lighter clarets. But, then, I am not a Burgundy man
– Otto thinks that is a sign of callow youth, but it’s still my opinion
– right, Otto?’
Otto spread his hands. ‘The Haul Brion is superb.’
‘Ex-Luftwaffe Haut Brion.’ Audley nodded. ‘But we’ve also got some delectable Hocks and Moselles – very refreshing and invigorating. And you can still have the Haut Brion with the pig – ’
He looked towards Otto ‘ – and with the deer ham before, maybe?
Would that be okay, Otto?’
But Otto was staring at Fred. ‘I think the Herr Major may be thinking of something stronger at this moment.’
Christ! The Herr Major was thinking of anything! thought Fred, despairingly.
‘Well ... if it’s a sherry, we have it.’ Another Audley nod. “The most delicate dry sherry – also courtesy of the Luftwaffe . . . and presumably, General Franco – ‘
‘We have whisky.’ Otto knew his man better. ‘Ration Red Label and VAT 69. Black Label. Single Malt – and an Islay Malt, which dummy4
is good. And good gin, Booth’s and Gordon’s – ’ He stopped suddenly. ‘And we have also Tennessee whiskey, of Jack Daniel.
And several other American whiskies. And rum from Puerto Rico and Cuba, as well as Jamaica. But only a little Trinidad rum, I regret.’
‘Yes. That’s because the Crocodile likes it. So you’d better lay off that,’ agreed Audley hastily. ‘But brandy, of course. And a whole lot of Russian vodkas, of varying toxicity . . . which I wouldn’t actually recommend. And a whole lot of other things – just try us, and see – okay?’
Curiosity was great. But thirst was greater. ‘I’ll have a large Black Label – as soon as possible, please.’ Fred looked around. There were other officers in the gloom, but as Audley wasn’t trying to introduce them he’d better let that go. ‘You don’t travel light then?
Alcoholically speaking.’
‘No, we don’t.’ Audley grinned happily. ‘We inherited all the contents of the Schwartzenburg cellars, and it was a Luftwaffe headquarters. And we’re a very small unit, you see ... So the aim is to drink the place dry by New Year’s Day, 1946.’
Fred started to think Audley wasn’t stuttering. But then Otto materialized at his elbow, with his silver tray again, and a glass on it.
‘Thank you.’ The glass was large and heavy, and there was a lot in it.
‘We have no ice. But you would not have wanted that.’ Otto bowed slightly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen – ?’
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‘Go on, Otto, go on.’ Audley waved at the man. ‘Just make sure you keep the Crocodile’s glass full, that’s all –I want him in a benign mood this evening.’
‘Because of the injury to his car?’ Otto checked, and nodded.
‘Yes?’
‘Oh, you know, do you? But of course you do!’ Audley leaned towards Fred. ‘All is known to Otto – Otto knows everything. Otto can get you anything – isn’t that true, Otto?’
‘Have no fear.’ Otto raised a white-gloved hand. ‘The master has been well-attended.’ He bowed to Audley and backed away into the gloom again.
‘Yes, I don’t doubt.’ Audley watched the white coat disappear before turning back to Fred. ‘Otto likes Hughie – they’re thick as thieves. Which, of course, is what they both are. So they recognize the other’s worth . . . Amazing, really, when you think about it.’
‘Amazing?’ Somehow, Fred didn’t think Audley was referring to the Otto-Hughie entente, from the way he spoke. ‘What is?’
‘Trinidad rum.’ Audley nodded. ‘It’s rather amazing that Otto very quickly discovered that it’s Major McCorquodale’s favourite tipple
– his Achille’s heel, if you like ... in so far as a crocodile can have an Achille’s heel . . . But it’s absolutely amazing – quite incredible really – that he was then able to conjure up supplies of the stuff, here in Germany.’ He shook his head. ‘Trust our Otto!’
‘He’s the mess waiter – ?’ Fred sipped his whisky cautiously, aware that there were many other items of information he needed more urgently.
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‘Oh ... not really.’ Audley’s unlovely features screwed up conspiratorially. ‘He’s a lot more than that. In fact, he doesn’t usually honour us with his presence before dinner . . . unless we’re entertaining top brass, anyway.’ He brought his face close to Fred’s ear. ‘I rather suspect that the white-coat-and-gloves have been put on solely for Hughie’s benefit, to make sure that Major McCorquodale is well-oiled this evening. Because one of his very few virtues is that alchohol makes him mmm-more agreeable.’
It occurred to Fred that Audley, if not Major McCorquodale, had already drunk deeply. Which was at once surprising, but also somewhat disquieting, if there was some sort of night-operation ahead of them, as the Colonel had indicated. And with the whisky warming his empty stomach his surprise and disquiet concentrated his mind on that.
‘There’s something on tonight, I gather.’
‘Yes – uh-huh.’ Audley buried his face in his glass. There’s a kraut-hunt tonight, crowning all our recent inquiries. It’ll probably end in nothing – or disaster. But at least the weather’s on our side.‘
‘The weather?’ Fred recalled Audley’s umbrella.
‘Yes.’ Audley craned his neck, peering into their ill-lit surroundings from his full height. ‘You know, we really ought to start eating soon, or Otto’s jolly old porker will be spoilt . . . and the Crocodile does seem sufficiently well-oiled now . . . But Caesar Augustus is jawing poor old Amos again!’ He gave Fred an accusing look. ‘What on earth did you say to set him off?’
‘If I told you, you’d never believe me!’
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‘Oh yes, I would! Where Augustus Colbourne is concerned, nothing is unbelievable – ’ Audley caught his tongue. ‘You’re not a friend of his, by any unhappy chance? But no ... you are a Brigadier Clinton volunteer, aren’t you.’
That was too much. ‘I am not a volunteer.’ Fred felt his patience stretch thin. ‘I’ve only met your brigadier once, damn it – and it was you who introduced me. So I have you to thank for being here, when I could be sunning myself on a Greek beach – eh?’
‘Me?’ Audley blinked at him. ‘No – honestly ... I only told him who you were, that time.’ The boy’s mouth twisted nervously.
‘And I actually told him mostly about Matthew – I’d never met you before . . . And that uncle of yours, who used to come down to the school, and give Matthew fivers at half-term and on Foundation Day. And he seemed to know all about him the moment I opened my mouth.’ The mouth turned downwards. ‘Maybe I did lay it on a bit thick . . . but I thought you wanted to get away, I mean – ?’
‘I did. And you obviously did.’ The voices all around them sounded unnaturally loud, and full of alcohol-induced argument and bonhomie .But I haven’t, have I?‘
Audley looked crestfallen. ‘You must have impressed him. And I did warn you that he liked rich bankers, Fred.’