Chapter 15

‘ANNA WAS AT the theatre,’ Martins told me, ‘for the Sunday matinée. I had to see the whole dreary comedy through a second time. About a middle-aged composer and an infatuated girl and an understanding – a terribly understanding – wife. Anna acted very badly – she wasn’t much of an actress at the best of times. I saw her afterwards in her dressing-room, but she was badly fussed. I think she thought I was going to make a serious pass at her all the time, and she didn’t want a pass. I told her Harry was alive – I thought she’d be glad and that I would hate to see how glad she was, but she sat in front of her make-up mirror and let the tears streak the grease-paint and I wished afterwards that she had been glad. She looked awful and I loved her. Then I told her about my interview with Harry, but she wasn’t really paying much attention because when I’d finished she said, “I wish he was dead.”

‘“He deserves to be,” I said.

‘“I mean he would be safe then – from everybody.”’

I asked Martins. ‘Did you show her the photographs I gave you – of the children?’

‘Yes. I thought, it’s got to be kill or cure this time. She’s got to get Harry out of her system. I propped the pictures up among the pots of grease. She couldn’t avoid seeing them. I said, “The police can’t arrest Harry unless they get him into this zone, and we’ve got to help.”

‘She said, “I thought he was your friend.” I said, “He was my friend.” She said, “I’ll never help you to get Harry. I don’t want to see him again, I don’t want to hear his voice. I don’t want to be touched by him, but I won’t do a thing to harm him.”

‘I felt bitter – I don’t know why, because after all I had done nothing for her. Even Harry had done more for her than I had. I said, “You want him still,” as though I were accusing her of a crime. She said. “I don’t want him, but he’s in me. That’s a fact – not like friendship. Why, when I have a sex dream, he’s always the man.”’

I prodded Martins on when he hesitated. ‘Yes?’

‘Oh, I just got up and left her then. Now it’s your turn to work on me. What do you want me to do?’

‘I want to act quickly. You see, it was Harbin’s body in the coffin, so we can pick up Winkler and Cooler right away. Kurtz is out of our reach for the time being, and so is the driver. We’ll put in a formal request to the Russians for permission to arrest Kurtz and Lime: it makes our files tidy. If we are going to use you as our decoy, your message must go to Lime straight away – not after you’ve hung around in this zone for twenty-four hours. As I see it, you were brought here for a grilling almost as soon as you got back into the Inner City; you heard then from me about Harbin; you put two and two together and you go and warn Cooler. We’ll let Cooler slip for the sake of the bigger game – we have no evidence that he was in on the penicillin racket. He’ll escape into the Second Bezirk to Kurtz, and Lime will know you’ve played the game. Three hours later you send a message that the police are after you: you are in hiding and must see him.’

‘He won’t come.’

‘I’m not so sure. We’ll choose our hiding place carefully – where he’ll think there’s a minimum of risk. It’s worth trying. It would appeal to his pride and his sense of humour if he could scoop you out. And it would stop your mouth.’

Martins said, ‘He never used to scoop me out – at school.’ It was obvious that he had been reviewing the past with care and coming to conclusions.

‘That wasn’t such serious trouble and there was no danger of your squealing.’

He said, ‘I told Harry not to trust me, but he didn’t hear.’

‘Do you agree?’

He had given me back the photographs of the children and they lay on my desk. I could see him take a long look at them. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I agree.’