The three of them looked at each other, and Husband said cautiously: "If you say a matter of hours, you do mean tonight?"
"I'll do my best," Maxim said. "Is there anything I should know in order to ask the right questions?"
They went into a huddle, with Miss Milward murmuring behind her hand at Husband and Sims shaking his head in a jittery movement. Finally Husband said: "I assume, security being what it is, that you know our ultimate target is Gustav Eismark?Quite. Well, according to the late Mrs Howard, we got this much from her at least, there is some doubt about the validity of his second marriage. His first wife was supposed to have died at the end of the war. There is, it seems, a strong possibility that he abandoned her in the West and took their baby son over to the Russian zone. In the confusion of 1945 and '46, there would have been no means for her to trace him. Once there, he could claim she was dead; in the West, she might build a new life.But if she were still alive at the time of his second marriage, nearly twenty years later, then it was bigamous."
"Is that bad?" Maxim asked, a little surprised.
"Perhaps not in every Sovbloc country. But the GDR, as Dieter will confirm, I'm sure, happens still to have the morality of Salem when they are putting little old ladies to the torch – at least at the highest political level. And bear in mind that's what we're talking about, Major: the highest level. Nothing to do with public morality; the public doesn't come into this. Somehow a Sovbloc politician can corner ninety-nine per cent of the vote without everybody having to know the name of his dog and which football team he supports." Husband smiled contentedly at his own wit. "It does keep things tidy: you don't suddenly lose your best men because of an unexpected scandal. I'm sure George would be delighted to see it introduced over here."
George ignored the sly threat and just grunted. Miss Milward chipped in: "Of course, if the first wife turned out to be still alive and willing to testify, that would be even better."
"And somewhere," Husband said, "Mrs Howard must have been keeping a file on Gustav Eismark. She reported very little to us, I mean to Dieter. I believe that's right?"
Ever-smiling, Sims acknowledged that it was.
Maxim said: "Her luggage got dumped in the river. There weren't any papers among it. I was told."
The three behind the table exchanged looks. Sims said: "It would not be likely to bejust in her cases, like clothes. Perhaps in the lining…"
Maxim doubted Blagg had bothered to rip open the suitcase linings; he just wouldn't be thinking in those terms.
"It sounds," Husband said, "as if our soldier friend has probably destroyed anything that we might have to show for months of expensive -"
"Then get expensive enough to hire people who can put one foot in front of another without the Army having to tell them how!"
Husband was on his feet shouting, George saying: "Harry!" and Miss Milward: "Gentlemen, now please -" Sims just sat there, but momentarily without his smile.
Maxim said: "Your mother's moustache."
Everybody took a deep breath. Miss Milward said calmly: "I think the only other thing you may need to know, Major, is the first Frau Eismark'sname. It was Brigitte Krone. So if youdo happen across any documents relating to her…"
"You don't know where Mrs Howard got the first clue about this?"
"Major, we are not asking you to start the investigation again from scratch. Please. If you'd confine yourself to finding out what Corporal Blagg knows, we'd be very grateful. "
George said: "Surprised, too, I imagine." He stood up. "If that's it, then… are we fit?"
Maxim said: "I don't want to be followed again. "
"Harry…"
"No, if there's somebody behind me, I want to be sure that it's One Of Theirs."
"What earthly difference would that make, " Husband askedin a voice that still trembled slightly, "to your normal standard of conduct?"
That effectively ended the meeting.
George drove, not going anywhere, and for a few minutes he said nothing, then: "Ecology. That's it. You're going to have to develop a more ecological outlook. Tell yourself that, like the dung beetle and the greater horned toad, secret intelligence personnel are also God's creatures. It'll make life less exciting, but easier on the blood pressure. Do you think you can get anything for them?"
"If Blagg's got anything. This time he's going to tell the whole truth and nothing but. "
"Good. We're running out of time."
"I'd like to be able to convince him that it wasn'tthat mob that took a shot at him. "
George shook his head emphatically. "Husband would never authorise gunplay in London. In fact, I don't know how hecould authorise it – he hasn't got the men. They just don't exist, not here. The Firm uses a few muscle-brains in the Middle East and so on, but they're employed at several removes and a lot's done to make sure theystay overseas. You can spend your whole life in The Firm without once meeting a pistol by way of business – in fact, you'd better, if you ever hope to be considered for Best of Breed. "
Maxim made what might have been an agreeing noise. "All right, but what about Sims?"
"He's more vulnerable than Husband. If he makes a cock-up of this, anything approaching a scandal, he's finished in a very final way."
"Where did they get him from?"
"East Germany, via West Germany. He Saw The Light seven or eight years ago, and went to work for the Verfassungschutzat Ehrenfeld. Counterespionage. Given his background, he built up a very effective little unit, then he offered the whole thing to us after the Flying Doctor business. Did you hear anything about that? – probably you were out of the country."
"I know the one you mean. " Maxim had picked up the story from friends in the Intelligence Corps. A youngish doctor employed full-time to look after the health of the Verfassungschutz'sagents had been caught, by pure chance, passing on the details of those agents' medical histories and personal problems to the Other Side. He had, of course, been security checked and re-checked, and every time found to be clean. He was faithful to his wife – except for an occasional nurse, which she had to agree didn't count – and wasn't into drugs or gambling or politics. The security men had missed only one thing: the doctor didn't want to be a doctor, he wanted to be an airline pilot. They knew he spent his weekends at the flying club, but hadn't got around to totting up how many hours of blind flying instruction in a twin-engined Cessna he was buying, nor how much each such hour cost. And since the good doctor was a lousy pilot, it was a lot of hours and a lot of money, nearly half his government salary, and almost all paid for by sympathetic friends in East Berlin.
"It just goes to show," Maxim's confidant from Int Corps had summed up, "that sex and drugs and gambling aren't everything. One shouldn't benarrow-minded when looking for a man's weakness. "
The doctor wasn't the only security failure in West German intelligence, but he had been the last straw for Sims. Rather than see his unit rotted away by the disillusionment of constant betrayal, he had approached MI6 with an offer they didn't want to refuse.
"Of course, it isn't the Done Thing to poach people – let alone a whole unit – from an Ally," George went on, "but our East German operations had completely fallen apart, the place had become a total black hole as far as The Firm knew, and they were desperate. Anyway, we weren't feeling too chuffed towards West Germany at that point: something to do with Common Market fishing policy, they kept sending their trawlers into the Hampstead Ponds or somewhere. So the Foreign Office turned a bland eye – nobody was exactly complaining out loud – and we took on the whole Sims organisation as a going concern. From desk bods right down to people in the field. Mrs Howard was one of his. "
"Her? I thought she was supposed to be a sort of part-timer, an amateur."