He went back into the hall and called the main headquarters, which overlooked Regent's Park. His work name was still registered there, and he would at least find a duty officer and a couple of secretaries in situ. Identifying himself as "Predator," he asked if someone could trace the number.
It took only forty seconds with the magic of the mainframe computers. The number was that of the Vier Jahreszeiten – Munich's best address. The hotel for the rich and famous.
Munich, he thought. Munich tonight; Munich, the old capital of Bavaria and within easy reach of Tarnenwerder and Wasserburg am Inn. At least he knew where they were heading, and this time they had not wanted him to know.
Fifteen minutes later three cars pulled up in front of the house, and both Bond and Flicka gave short statements before getting a ride to their car, stashed a mile away.
"So you think Cathy and Anna have sold out?" Flicka was restless and did not seem to be getting comfortable in the passenger seat. Usually she had that wonderful gift of being able to remain still and unmoving in any situation. Now she was all muscular tics, arranging and rearranging her body as though she could not find a restful position.
"That's certainly what we're meant to believe." He was driving fast, just within the limits, streaking up the M11 toward London. "With these people it's difficult to know what's the truth and what's just laid on for our benefit."
Presently he said that his gut reaction told him Cathy and Anna had belonged to Tarn almost from the word go. "Money, as they say, talks. It's possible they were originally hired by Trish, who admitted marrying the man for his money. Max Tarn appears to have a way to circumvent loyalty, and that way is almost certainly through his checkbook and ideology. Yes, I believe both of them are part of the Tarn organization, and have been for some time. Lord knows who else has been bribed."
They drove back to the flat, took showers, and stretched out for a much-needed rest, for, by now, it was almost five in the morning. Bond could not sleep. His mind would not carry him off into the healing dreamless dark, while Flicka still seemed restless.
He had his back to her when she whispered, "You still awake, love?"
"Too much on my mind, Flick. Are you too tired to talk?"
"No, I'm haunted by that body. Unusual for me, I know, but I thought Trish was a nice person. In a way I looked forward to seeing her after all this was over. Women need women friends, James, and I've precious few of those left now that I've cut adrift from Switzerland."
"Give it time. Look, I've got to talk to you. Serious stuff."
"Work serious, or personal serious?"
"Work. I think we should leave the personal until all this is over."
"Well, we could keep it a secret."
He seemed lost in thought for a full two minutes. "My dear girl, I haven't felt like this about someone for a very long time. In fact, I don't think I've ever really felt what I feel for you. Never in my life. So when all this is over, will you marry me?"
Her lips brushed against his as he turned to face her. "James, you already know the answer. I've hoped for this ever since we first met. Yes, of course I'll marry you, and I'd like to shout it from the rooftops."
They kissed and moved closer.
"Pity it has to remain a secret," she said.
"I know, but I think we're probably going to need each other professionally in the next week or so. If we announce it formally, they'd take you off the active list quicker than hell would scorch a feather."
"Quicker than…? I've never heard that."
"Something my sainted old grandmother used to say."
"Then she had a fine turn of phrase."
"She was fine about most things. Just like you, my dear Flick." He paused. "Now, I have to talk about work, and you're not going to like what I have to say."
"Try me."
"I'm going to ask permission to go out in the field on my own."
"Over my dead body."
"Seriously, Fredericka. This is a one-man job, and it has to be done quickly."
"You mean I'd hold you up?" A tiny touch of irritation.
"No, but I don't think it would be wise for us to go together. Let me explain." He told her about the fragment of paper and what he had discovered. "If they're off to Munich today it probably means that Max is going to see his German lawyers in Wasserburg, and is also possibly taking a look around his ancestral home. I'd like to see exactly how things stand. You recall what Trish told us? That Max's quietly restoring Tarnenwerder; and there's the whole matter of his family claim to the place. We've even got the name of his lawyers – remember the dossier? Saal, Saal u. Rollen, who still have offices in the Marienplatz, Wasserburg am Inn. If I'm to do a swift search of their office, it's best that I do it on my own."
"Oh, James. Two's company."
"Two's also what they'll be looking for. Tarn and his buddies regard us as a team, and it's a mighty small team if he's already becoming the accepted leader of a resurrected Nazi Party. That's exactly why I'm going on my own. One against many works better than two."
"Let me think about it, James. It's bad enough not being able to sing, shout, and tell the world about our private lives."
"You've been in this game long enough to know -"
"Of course I have, you idiot. I know you're right about that. I just don't want to let you out of my sight."
"My love, it would be most unsafe for you to come with me."
"I bet The Committee will hum-and-ha about it for so long that Max'll be in the Caribbean by the time you get the okay."
"We'll see about that."
"Just let me think." She wrapped her arms around him and in less than five minutes was asleep.
The ghosts of past loves began to float in and out of Bond's mind. Only once in his life had he been truly and intensely in love with a woman: Tracy di Vincenzo, murdered only a few hours after their marriage. With Fredericka the emotion was different, perhaps because of the love he had felt for Tracy. His feelings for Flicka seemed to him to be an entirely novel experience. She was also responsible for a deeper commitment from him – a mature understanding of what a man and woman could share: something that had little to do with sex, and much more concerned with their entire lives. Two people blending together as one.
Yet, in the early hours of that morning, the specters of other women seemed to gather in the room, as though telling him to rid himself of all the emotions he had once felt for them and make a new start with Fredericka von Grüsse.
Over the years many of his former lovers had remained more than simply fond memories from the past. He still regularly visited the cemetery at Royale-les-Eaux where Vesper Lynd lay at peace – the peace she had sought for so long. There were times when old dreams caught him unawares, sending pictures of once-loved girls and women skittering through his brain – the wild, almost tomboy Honeychile Ryder, with her broken nose and firm body; Domino Vitali, she of the slight limp and sensual mouth. More often than not the picture was faint, though the sensual memory was strong – a beloved Asian face swimming above him, and the voice, soft and tender, of Kissy Suzuki. Now all these past loves seemed to smile upon him in his happy, half-conscious state of a true obligation to Fredericka. Man and woman joined by the invisible but inescapable bond of love and duty, one to the other.
They arrived at the Home Office, refreshed in a new warmth to one another, happy but somber, at exactly nine o'clock. The Committee was assembled in its entirety but for M, who – Bill Tanner said – was as well as could be expected.