Jackson shook his head. ‘That’s not the best idea. If they disappear they’ll be hunted, and at their age – well, life with us isn’t easy. They know nothing?’
‘They wouldn’t approve if they did. My dad’s a Rotarian, they’re both members of the Coalition Conservative Party, even now.’
‘All that will protect them,’ Jackson said. ‘Fortunately the Germans are constrained – still – by the fact we’re not an occupied country. They can’t just spirit people away if they haven’t done anything. The British authorities like the notion that they’re still in charge. That’s why Muncaster is still at the asylum.’
‘Is the whole Civil Service spy network under threat?’ David asked quietly.
‘I don’t bloody know!’ Jackson burst out. He began pacing the room. He frowned, turned to David. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘We’re all under stress.’
Natalia said, ‘David and I think the Germans must have been investigating him because of some lead from Muncaster.’
Jackson shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. We’ve been in touch with our man at the asylum this afternoon. Muncaster’s still not speaking, and nobody’s tried to interrogate him. Our man thinks Dr Wilson may be trying to protect him. Muncaster’s become a sort of pet patient.’
Geoff asked, ‘Your man? You mean Ben, that Scottish attendant we met?’
‘That’s the name you know him by. We’ve always made contact via shortwave radio. He too is more at risk now.’ Jackson looked at the anxious faces around him, then gave his sudden disarming smile. ‘I must stop this habit of pacing around, mustn’t I? Bad for everyone’s nerves. Come on, Drax, let’s sit down. I have to tell you all what’s been decided, what’s going to happen next. And we don’t have much time.’
Jackson took the armchair by the gas fire. He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve spent today having conversations with people at the highest level. The very highest level.’ David wondered if he meant Churchill. ‘And it’s been decided Muncaster is to be taken from the hospital. We’re going to turn this into an opportunity. You three will go, Natalia will lead you again.’
‘How do we do it?’ she asked.
‘At eleven on Sunday night the attendant, Ben Hall, will fetch Muncaster and bring him to the gates. We’d have liked to go sooner but Hall couldn’t swap a night shift till the day after tomorrow. The hospital give the patients a sedative to get them to sleep and there’s only the night staff on the wards. Ben has swapped with the nurse on Muncaster’s ward. He has enough authority within the place to take Muncaster out of his room. Then he brings him out of the building and down to the gate. The problem will be getting Muncaster past the porter’s lodge, where the keys are. There’s usually only one person on duty there at night, and Ben will have to put him out of action temporarily.’
David said, ‘If Ben’s acting alone, how will he cope with Frank? He could be in a state.’
‘He will give him extra sedation that evening to make sure he’s quiet. Muncaster should just about be able to stagger along if Hall gets the dose right. Let’s hope he does, a great deal rides on that.’
‘Poor bloody Frank,’ David said again.
‘Poor bloody Frank will be a lot more bloody if the Germans get him.’ A touch of asperity had returned to Jackson’s voice. ‘Hall will bring him out and a car with you three in it will be waiting by the gates.’
‘It makes sense,’ Geoff said. ‘We’re on the run anyway. We’ve nothing to lose.’ He took his pipe from his pocket, began filling it with tobacco.
‘Exactly,’ Jackson agreed. ‘Afterwards you’ll all go to another safe house some way from the asylum. Hall, too; when the authorities find out what happened they’ll be after him as well.’ He looked hard at David and Geoff. ‘As Drax says, you’re the ideal people to do this, you’ve been there before and you’ve got to disappear anyway. But also, it’s easy to foresee possible problems with Muncaster when the drugs wear off. God knows how he’ll react when he finds himself out of the asylum, in a strange place, guarded by people with guns.’ Jackson looked at David. ‘That’s why it’s important you’re there. If anyone can convince him we’re acting in his best interests, you can.’
‘And if we get Frank out, what happens then?’ David asked.
‘In a few days an American submarine will enter the English Channel. Muncaster, and you and Drax and Hall, will be picked up. The plan is to get Mrs Fitzgerald there too. Next stop – if all goes well – New York.’
‘My God,’ David said.
‘We always do our best to get our people out.’ Jackson pointed to his briefcase. ‘I’ve got your false identity cards in there.’
‘Do I stay in England?’ Natalia asked.
‘Yes, if all goes well,’ Jackson answered. ‘Your identity isn’t compromised, and we have other work planned for you.’ He gave her a searching look. ‘Unless, of course, you’d rather leave, too.’
Natalia glanced at David, then said, ‘No. No, I should stay here.’
‘Good.’ Jackson turned to David and Geoff. ‘Any questions? Comments?’
‘I’ll do it,’ David said. He had done all he could for Sarah now, and Jackson was right, they must try to get Frank out.
Geoff spoke next. ‘Okay. I suppose my parents will never know what’s happened to me,’ he added slowly.
‘I know it’s hard,’ Jackson said. ‘But we all knew that one day we might have to go on the run, never see our loved ones again. It’s the same for all of us. Me, too.’ He smiled sadly, seeming momentarily as vulnerable as the rest of them.
David thought of Irene, Sarah’s parents. Sarah would probably never see her family again either. Would they be all right? Steve’s Blackshirt connections will help, he thought.
Jackson got up, crossed to the table and opened his briefcase. He pulled out two brown identity cards and handed one each to David and Geoff. David opened his; a couple of years ago he had gone to a photographer’s to have his picture taken in case he ever needed a fake identity, and here was the photo, impressed with what looked like the Home Office stamp, on a card which named him as Henry Bertram, of Bushey, Hertfordshire. Married. A civil servant in the Department of Transport.
Jackson said, ‘You’re both down as civil servants, close enough to what you actually do to let you talk convincingly about your work if need be. There are still a lot of police around in the cities, and some of the roads that lead to the new Jewish camps have roadblocks. It’s possible you might be asked to show your IDs, and a lie is always more convincing the closer it is to the truth.’ He put his hand on the briefcase again and pulled out a bulky white envelope. ‘There’s one more thing.’ He looked between them, his eyes hard now. ‘If you get caught by the Germans, it’ll be the full works, I’m afraid, from the Gestapo in the Senate House basement.’
David glanced at Geoff, who took a deep breath as Jackson opened the envelope and carefully tipped two small, circular rubber pellets into his hand. ‘These are cyanide capsules,’ he said. ‘Natalia knows what they are, she has one. Carry them in your trouser pockets, loose. For God’s sake don’t lose them. If you’re captured, if they’re coming for you and you know you can’t get away, put the pellet in your mouth. Don’t swallow it, crunch down. There’s a glass phial inside. It’s very quick.’ He held out his hand and David and Geoff each took a capsule. As he put the thing in his pocket, David thought, death weighs almost nothing.
‘We’ve all faced dying, I suppose,’ Jackson said. ‘I was in the trenches in the Great War, Fitzgerald was in the 1940 war and you, Drax, you must have faced some tricky situations in Africa. It’s a funny thing, I found that in action you always have to be prepared for death; you must keep it in a separate compartment, but you have to be ready to open that compartment at a moment’s notice, look death squarely in the face knowing it might be the last thing you see.’ He smiled with unexpected awkwardness. ‘I guess every human being knows they’re going to die one day; everyone has that compartment locked away somewhe
re. It’s easier if you’ve got religious faith, I suppose.’
David touched the pill in his pocket. He looked across at Natalia but she was staring into the middle distance, her face stony. She had probably had a capsule ready for a long time.
Jackson clapped his hands together, making David jump slightly. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘looking on the bright side, the mission has every chance of success; you could all be heroes. And if we get you to the States, we’ve an arrangement with our sympathizers there. They’ll get you to Canada, give you new papers as British immigrants.’
David thought, it won’t matter if I’m a half-Jew there. Or not much. I could maybe even get to New Zealand, be with Dad. He wondered if Sarah would come with him, or whether, as he feared inside, that was all over now. Then he realized something else, and looked up sharply at Jackson. ‘There isn’t a pill for Frank,’ he said.
Jackson shook his head. ‘There’s no guarantee he’d take it. Or he might take it the moment it was given him. If it comes to it, Natalia will be armed and we’d rely on her to stop Muncaster from being taken.’
David looked at her. She said, ‘David, I have to be the one with the gun. They don’t expect a woman to carry arms. I am experienced and it gives me that little extra element of surprise.’
‘Which can be useful if you have to act quickly,’ Jackson agreed. He closed his briefcase. ‘Natalia, I’m afraid I’ve got to ask you to prepare to leave within the half-hour. Just take what personal things you need, and make sure there’s nothing here that could be of use, or lead them to us. I’ve got an address for the three of you to stay the next couple of nights. Go through and see Dilys first. Tell her to make arrangements to move.’
‘I suppose I have to leave my paintings,’ Natalia said.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ Jackson gave his apologetic smile again. David thought, he respects her, he trusts her. But Geoff and I are underlings and I’ve already failed once.
Natalia went out, shutting the door quietly behind her. Jackson raised his eyebrows. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘This is it.’
Geoff said, ‘It’ll be strange if Frank Muncaster turns out to know nothing important.’
‘Oh, no,’ Jackson said heavily. ‘We’re pretty sure he does.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
GUNTHER TOOK THE WOMAN back to Senate House. In the car she had said nothing although sitting in the back with her, Gunther could feel the trembling of her body through the leather seat. In her kitchen, when she’d come in and found them, she had stood rigid with shock. Syme had told her she was being arrested on suspicion of being a member of an illegal organization, that this was a matter of national security. Gunther asked where her husband was and she replied she didn’t know, she would have expected him home from work by now. Looking at her face Gunther thought, there’s more to it than that, and he asked her to give him her handbag and empty her pockets. Then she said, firmly, that she wasn’t going to say anything else until she had a lawyer present. She added primly that she was sorry if that seemed discourteous, which made Syme laugh. After that she didn’t say another word.
At Gunther’s direction, once they were through the Senate House gates, Syme parked the car beside a side door. A Wehrmacht guard stood to attention outside. They got out, Gunther taking Sarah’s arm. He saw her eyes widen. Perhaps the penny had dropped that she was on German territory now. He thanked Syme and told him he would take matters from here. ‘I’ll telephone you later.’
Syme’s face flushed. He leaned in close to Gunther and whispered, ‘I should be in on the interrogation. That’s what was agreed.’
‘That was agreed about the man. You need to find him, it’s urgent. You can talk to her later.’
Syme’s eyes narrowed. ‘This is a joint project.’
‘I know, but we need to find the man. It’s you that has the resources for that.’
Syme still looked suspicious. When they had broken into the house in Kenton, earlier that afternoon, he had insisted on searching the place with Gunther. They had found nothing. Gunther now wondered whether the time was coming for Syme to be dealt with, too.
‘All right,’ Syme said. He turned back to the woman, who was looking up at the immense floodlit wall of Senate House. Her eyes followed Syme as he got back into the car, leaving her in German hands. Gunther said, gently, ‘It’s all right, we just want to ask you some questions.’ He smiled reassuringly. She gave him a look of fear and hate.
The guard let them in and Gunther led Sarah along an echoing marble corridor. At the end was a metal door with another soldier on guard, this time wearing the black uniform of the SS. Gunther nodded and the guard opened the heavy door. Gunther took the woman down the stone staircase to the basement. As he had told Hauser, when the Germans took over Senate House as their embassy in 1940 they had converted the basement into interrogation rooms. The busiest time had been in 1943 when the Abwehr, German Army Intelligence, had been found to include elements plotting to kill Hitler and been purged, the loyal elements incorporated into the SS. Gunther had still been in England then; it had been a difficult time. A couple of officers he had known had been brought down here before being shipped back to Germany.
There were, he knew, cells equipped for carrying out severe physical interrogations, but also rooms which looked like the places where police questioned suspects in British television programmes like Sergeant Dixon. He took Sarah into one of these. There was a table bolted to the floor, a few hard chairs and a telephone fixed to a bracket on the green-painted wall. He said he would have to leave her for a short time, and asked if she would like some tea. Sarah shook her head. She hadn’t spoken since they left her house. Gunther closed the door on her and walked up to the far end of the corridor, past other closed cell doors, to where a stocky young Gestapo man in his twenties sat reading the German army magazine Signal. The cover showed a group of German soldiers sitting on the edge of an ornate fountain, talking to some girls. The Pleasures of Service in Rome. Gunther nodded at the telephone. ‘Get me Standartenführer Gessler, please.’
Gunther watched as the soldier dialled. Gessler had been furious, wild with rage, when Gunther telephoned him earlier to say Fitzgerald had escaped. Gessler had told him that they still hadn’t got clearance to take Muncaster. ‘This is turning into the biggest fucking balls-up in history,’ he had screamed impotently down the phone.
The soldier passed the telephone to Gunther and he told Gessler he had Fitzgerald’s wife in custody. Gunther replaced the receiver. ‘He’s on his way,’ he told the soldier, who quickly put Signal in a drawer of his desk and brought out a sheaf of forms.
‘How are things at the moment?’ Gunther asked. ‘I hear a few German Jews have been picked up.’
The boy wrinkled his nose. ‘Pieces of shit who thought they could hide in the bigger cesspool.’
Gunther shook his head. ‘They never learn.’
Gessler arrived a few minutes later. He carried a thin file. Gunther thought how tired he looked, ill, red-faced and unshaven, a complete contrast to his confident schoolmasterly manner when Gunther had arrived. Yet he was still managing it all, just keeping control. The Gestapo boy stood to attention and saluted. Gessler turned to Gunther. ‘Where is she?’
Gunther led him to Sarah’s cell, pushing aside the cover of the little spy-hole in the outside of the metal door. Gessler bent and looked, then straightened up. ‘Have you started questioning her?’
‘She wouldn’t say anything in the car, said she wanted a lawyer.’ Gessler laughed. Gunther smiled. ‘I thought I’d leave her here for a few minutes, let reality sink in.’
‘She’s just sitting, staring into space.’ Gessler considered. ‘You know, Dr Zander’s in tonight. You could show her some of his handiwork. That would soon open her mouth.’
‘With respect, sir, I’d like to try a bit of question-and-answer first. I can soon work out whether she’s had any training in dealing with interrogation. If she hasn’t, that would indicate she hasn’t been
working with her husband. If she has—’
‘We hand her over to Zander straight away.’ Gessler tapped his wristwatch. ‘Time is short.’
‘Interrogation is an art,’ Gunther said.
‘It’s a science as well,’ Gessler answered bluntly. ‘A branch of medical science.’
Gunther knew torture was necessary sometimes, had seen it applied in training films and in interrogations, but he could never enjoy it. In the future, once Germany’s enemies were defeated, it wouldn’t be needed; but, he knew, they were still a long way from that.
Gessler handed over the slim file. ‘That’s what we’ve been able to find on her. Not much. Most of it comes from a Special Branch file on her father. An active pacifist before the war, one of the ones who didn’t like us. This woman and her sister were both pacifists, too. But no record of political activities since 1940. Her sister’s husband’s got connections in the BUF.’
As Gunther flicked quickly through the file, Gessler said, ‘A civil servant in the Colonial Office also went AWOL from his desk this afternoon. Geoffrey Drax. It’s pretty certain now that he was the other man who visited Muncaster’s house. It does look like we’ve uncovered a spy ring in the Civil Service now. Special Branch will be keen to move in. And we haven’t caught anybody apart from this woman yet.’
Gunther tapped the file with his fingers. ‘Who warned Fitzgerald we were in the Dominions Office? I’d like to get that Carol Bennett woman in here, too.’
‘Later,’ Gessler said. He pointed at the door of the cell. ‘Get this one to talk first, Hoth.’
‘Is someone watching the Fitzgeralds’ house?’
‘Yes. In a car a little further up the road. Our people. That won’t be so easy in daylight, people sitting in cars on suburban streets get noticed. Net curtains twitch.’