Quiller Solitaire

'Do you?'

She seemed surprised. 'I've never thought otherwise.' Then she said, 'He was provoking them, I believe.'

'Oh really. How?

'Asking too many questions, I'd say.'

'Why was he interested in the Faction?'

She swung her head a little, perhaps trying to clear her mind; or it was just a mannerism; some women do it to show off their long hair, without thinking.

'Are you feeling better now?'

The voice came from the hedge, from the small round face in the gap in the hedge.

'Yes,' Helen called. 'Yes thank you, darling.'

'Who's that man?

'He's just a friend.' She threw me a quick little smile, the first one I'd seen. It changed her completely.

'What's his name?

Then there was another voice, from the garden next door. 'Billy! Come in at once!'

'There's a man there,' Billy called.

'Oh for goodness' sake, come in at once! I'm awfully sorry, Helen!'

'Don't worry. He just wanted to know I was all right.'

There was the sound of scuffling among dead leaves, and a final cry as the battle was lost. 'Can I have my engine back?'

'Billy, you little brat!' More scuffling. 'I'll give you a ring this evening, Helen!'

'All right.'

A door slammed over there. Helen looked around her, then down at her hands. 'I'm sorry. Where were we exactly?'

'We were talking about the Red Army Faction,' I said, 'but let's cut a few corners. There must be someone in Berlin who could give me some clues about your – about George. I mean someone among his friends. My department wants me to go over there and see what I can find out. We want to know who killed him.'

In a moment she looked up. 'So do I. It was such a beastly thing to do to a man. Even to him.'

That was the second clue. I wasn't sure that she was really aware of what she'd said, of how it sounded. I left it.

It's probably occurred to you that if you decided to help us in Berlin, you might be running a risk.'

She looked surprised. 'A risk of what?'

'George was murdered. You were his wife.'

'But I never had anything to do with… whatever he was doing. He didn't take me into his confidence about anything. I was just his -' She looked away, and said in a moment, 'I don't think I'd be risking anything. It doesn't worry me. The thing is, I really don't see how I can help.'

'You knew his friends?'

She looked down. She did it quite often. 'He didn't actually have any friends. Not real ones. There were lots of acquaintances -he was the first cultural attache, as you probably know. Lots of parties, picnics with what he called "cultivatable people", always something going on. But no real friends.'

In the silence we heard the starlings and robins rustling among the frosted leaves, a vehicle in the distance with its exhaust pipe blown, a man coughing in one of the gardens along the street, where smoke rose from a bonfire through the trees.

'Did you go to Berlin often?'

'Quite often, yes. Whenever he sent for me. I mean… whenever he needed me.'

'You didn't want to stay over there in Berlin, instead of making all those trips?'

'I don't like Berlin. It's too fast, too frenetic, after somewhere like Reigate.' A shy smile. 'I like quiet places. Old places.'

So what I was going to do was leave her here in peace and tell Shatner it wasn't on, she couldn't help us, Didn't know any of Maitland's friends because he'd never had any. I would go to Berlin under cover and start from scratch. She'd had quite enough of that place, and her last memory of it had been 'beastly', the brutal end of a man she'd known, not loved, but known quite well. Or had she loved him, 'even a man like him?'

'There was,' she said suddenly, 'now that I think of it, someone you could call a friend of his. They had a lot of meetings. George often said, "I've got a meeting with Willi."'

Perhaps a breakthrough. 'Can you give me his address?

She looked at me quickly. 'He wouldn't see you. He doesn't trust anyone now, because of what happened.'

'Did you go to any of these "meetings" with him?'

'No. But I saw quite a lot of him at the parties, and' – she shrugged – 'around.'

So we'd got to go through with it after all. Would he see me if you took me to him personally?'

She thought about it. 'Yes. Is that what you want me to do?'

One of the hardest things in this trade is to keep some kind of liking for yourself, some self-respect, while you're doing the things you've got to do. 'Yes,' I said. And as a sop, I suppose, to my conscience, 'But don't underestimate the risks.'

With a nice smile, 'I expect you're being over-solicitous.'

'Not really. Do you know, for instance, that your house is being watched?'

She swung her head to look at me. 'This house?'

'Yes.'

Why would anyone do that?

She didn't know what had happened to McCane. 'They might be waiting for you to leave, so that they can make a search. George could have left something here, or concealed something. They searched his car in Berlin, and his flat.' Or of course the man out there in the black Vauxhall could be waiting for me. I was here in a dead man's shoes.

I believe she shivered slightly under the heavy coat; I wasn't sure. She looked cold, despite the sheepskin. Cold or afraid, or both. 'Don't worry,' I told her, 'about the man out there. We'll take care of him, and you won't see him again.' I blew into my hands. 'On second thoughts some tea might be rather nice, warm us up, what do you think?

She stood up at once. 'I'm sorry, yes, I'm not doing terribly well, am I, as a hostess.' As we went across the lawn she asked, 'But what will you do, about the man out there?' Then immediately – 'I shouldn't ask, I expect.'

'He won't bother you, that's all that matters.' I picked up the battered red railway engine. 'You'd better look after this, or you'll be in trouble.'

The smile came again, like a flash of soft light. 'Poor Billy – he's got asthma. Or at least that's what they think it is.'

She led me through a small conservatory at the back of the house, with some galoshes in a row and straw for tying plants, a big amaryllis in a pot, the smell of earth and dampness. 'If you're still willing,' I said, 'to go to Berlin, how soon could you make it?

She stopped and turned and we were suddenly close and I caught her perfume and looked into the cool grey eyes and wondered what in fact she had been to George Maitland, I was just his – and she'd looked away.

'I haven't any plans,' she said. 'I could go whenever you wanted me to.'

Tonight?

'Tonight, yes.'

'I'll check with my department, see if they can get tickets.'