‘Can’t be many women doing your sort of work,’ Syme observed. ‘Wouldn’t have thought it was a woman’s job, not like teaching or nursing.’
He was trying to provoke her but she answered evenly. ‘I’ve worked in the service for thirteen years. I have full security clearance. I don’t think Mr Dabb has ever had cause to complain before.’ She flashed her superior a spirited look.
Dabb made a quick, angry pout. ‘You’re compromised,’ he said bitterly. ‘Compromised.’ He looked at Syme. ‘I can’t believe it’s just coincidence that the file this document came from was handled by an officer Miss Bennett is known to be very friendly with.’ He looked accusingly at Hubbold. ‘Your subordinate. Mr Fitzgerald.’
So Dabb had made that connection too, Gunther thought.
‘Several others had the file,’ Hubbold replied, suddenly tetchy.
Carol looked at Syme. ‘Mr Fitzgerald has been a friend of mine for years. But only a friend.’
‘Men and women can’t be just friends,’ Dabb snapped. ‘It’s not in the nature of things.’
‘Something in that,’ Syme agreed, raising an eyebrow at Carol. Her face was reddening now. He asked her bluntly, ‘Do you have an improper relationship with David Fitzgerald?’
She answered firmly. ‘No.’
‘They sometimes go to concerts,’ Dabb said. ‘It’s been department gossip for ages.’
Syme’s smile became a leer. ‘Where do you go, eh? Little hotel somewhere?’
‘We go to lunchtime concerts, that’s all we’ve ever done,’ Carol answered. Her voice was trembling. ‘Enquire as much as you like, ask David – Mr Fitzgerald. You’ll find nothing improper. Nothing. Ever. He’s a married man.’
Gunther heard the undertone of bitterness and thought, you wish he wasn’t. He said, ‘A friendship. Just so. But would Mr Fitzgerald have had the opportunity, through this friendship, to gain access to secret material?’
Carol looked at him, swallowed, then took a deep breath. ‘You’re German, aren’t you? Please, how are you involved in this?’
‘That’s none of your business,’ Syme said, harshly. ‘He’s working to me, that’s what matters. Answer the question.’
‘I can’t think of any way David could have got access to the file room,’ she said. ‘I never discussed my confidential work with him, I wouldn’t, ever. And he didn’t ask me to.’
Gunther asked, ‘What about the keys to the room where the files are kept? You never gave him access to those?’
‘Of course not,’ she answered, her voice desperately sincere. ‘I always have the keys with me in the office, and if I go out I leave them at the front desk.’ She looked at them steadily. ‘It’s not fair, you wouldn’t be asking these questions if it was a friendship between two men.’
Syme laughed. ‘I could tell you some stories on that subject.’ Hubbold and Dabb glanced at him with distaste.
Gunther thought, the keys, people find many ways of making copies of keys. He said to Carol, ‘So, the fact one of the few people who had access to this file is a friend of yours – that is just a coincidence?’
‘I don’t know what it is,’ she answered vehemently. ‘I don’t understand it.’
‘Did you and Mr Fitzgerald ever discuss political matters?’
‘No,’ she answered heavily.
‘What would you say his politics were?’ Syme asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘And yours?’
‘I don’t have any.’ Her voice sounded weary now. ‘I’ve a sick mother to look after, my job to do. I don’t poke my nose into politics.’
There was silence for a moment. Gunther looked at Syme, then said, ‘I think that’s all we need from Miss Bennett for now.’ He stood up, and the others followed. Gunther smiled at Carol. ‘Thank you, Miss Bennett.’
She looked at him uncertainly, then went out. When the door had closed, Dabb said to Syme, ‘I’ve taken her off her usual duties. I’m looking after the secret files myself for now. Is that in order?’
‘I think so. For now.’
‘The Permanent Secretary should be told. At once. Police in the office.’
‘We’ll deal with that.’ Syme looked at Gunther. ‘I think he can go too, now?’ Gunther nodded agreement again. Syme grinned at Dabb. ‘Off you go then, matey.’
Dabb made a sort of choking sound, then went out quickly. They were left with Hubbold. ‘Well?’ he asked quietly.
‘Do people here ever work outside normal hours?’ Gunther asked. ‘At weekends?’
‘When necessary.’ Hubbold hesitated, then added, ‘Mr Fitzgerald deals with the Commonwealth High Commissioners’ meetings. There’s been a lot to do these last few months. He does come in at weekends. I’ve twitted him about it occasionally, said he shouldn’t be leaving his wife alone at home so much.’
Gunther said, ‘I think we’d like to see Mr Fitzgerald now. On his own. Could you leave us for a while?’
‘This is my office,’ Hubbold answered with unexpected stubbornness.
Syme said. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you go down and get Fitzgerald for us? Fetch him from his desk?’
Hubbold set his lips, then stood up. He clenched his hands, as though he would have liked to strike them, then said, ‘Very well,’ stiffly, and left the room.
When the door shut Syme said, ‘There’s something fishy between Fitzgerald and that woman. I can smell it.’
Gunther said, ‘I don’t think she gave him access to that room. But I think he got access through her, got hold of her keys though I can’t work out how.’
‘He was with the secret files at the weekend and got some papers mixed up?’
‘That would make sense.’
‘What do we do when they come back? Get rid of that old fool and then arrest Fitzgerald?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘What about arresting the woman, too?’
‘No. Not yet.’ Gunther looked at Syme. ‘Let’s not make too many waves. Just Fitzgerald. We’ll take him back to Senate House, interview him.’
‘Interrogation German-style?’ Syme asked.
‘Just ordinary questioning to start with,’ Gunther answered wearily. ‘Then we’ll see.’
Syme shrugged, then looked seriously at Gunther. ‘Resistance spies going through secret government files. This could be big.’
‘I know.’
The door opened. Hubbold stood framed in the doorway, his face red, his white hair wild, eyes more enormous than ever behind his glasses. He spoke in a rush. ‘He’s gone. Fitzgerald’s gone. I went to his office and he wasn’t there. I phoned the porter. He said Fitzgerald came down in his hat and coat, the porter told him I wanted him to stay in the Office but he just walked out. He ignored my order. He’s gone.’ Then, with sudden emotion he hit the side of the door and wailed, ‘He’s betrayed me.’
Chapter Thirty
THAT MORNING DAVID WAS PREPARING the agenda for the next High Commissioners’ meeting. When he came into the office Carol was not yet at her desk. He had been very worried by the telephone call last night; he didn’t know whether she was looking for a shoulder to cry on after being questioned about the missing file, or had somehow guessed at his own involvement. He had been horrified to realize Sarah thought he was having an affair.
Last night they had gone out to Steve and Irene’s house. David and Sarah had both been anxious and preoccupied. Over dinner Irene had rattled on about Christmas arrangements, how the children were doing at school, the cold weather, all the while looking sharply between David and Sarah, sensing something was wrong. Steve had been put on his best behaviour and neither politics nor the deportations were mentioned, though Irene spoke about some trouble at Wandsworth; a crowd of Jive Boys had torn up the seats of a concert hall where one of the new rock ’n’ roll bands from America were performing. ‘They’re talking about banning any more of those records coming in from America.’