A New Kind of War

my pig.’

‘But the Colonel won’t blame you, Otto – he won’t know, will he?’

Audley matched Otto’s gesture, except that his big hands were unclenched and placatory, as though he was trying to sell the over-cooked pig.

‘Fuck the Colonel! It is my pig – and I know!’ Otto looked up at Audley. ‘And he was a good one – he deserves better, Captain David.’

Audley nodded seriously. ‘Fuck the Colonel – I quite agree: a very p-p-p-proper sentiment. But – ’ Suddenly he became aware of Fred, and clapped his hand to his mouth, looking from Otto to Fred, and then back again ‘ – b-but, hadn’t you better offer Herr Major Fattorini a drink, like you were ordered to – ?’

‘Ach, du lieber Gott!’ Otto faced Fred, open-mouthed. ‘Sir?’

‘What would you like?’ Audley moved into the instant of silence.

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It took Fred another second to gather his wits. ‘What have you got?’

Audley grinned. ‘You name it – we’ve got it. Except ... if you’ve acquired a taste for that dreadful Greek retsina . . . and we’re not actually very good on Italian wines, either.’ He paused. ‘Bordeaux and Burgundy . . . we have some unconsidered trifles, which are almost settled down now. But we shall be offering them with Otto’s pig. And I would personally recommend the Haul Brion, rather than the lighter clarets. But, then, I am not a Burgundy man

– Otto thinks that is a sign of callow youth, but it’s still my opinion

– right, Otto?’

Otto spread his hands. ‘The Haul Brion is superb.’

‘Ex-Luftwaffe Haut Brion.’ Audley nodded. ‘But we’ve also got some delectable Hocks and Moselles – very refreshing and invigorating. And you can still have the Haut Brion with the pig – ’

He looked towards Otto ‘ – and with the deer ham before, maybe?

Would that be okay, Otto?’

But Otto was staring at Fred. ‘I think the Herr Major may be thinking of something stronger at this moment.’

Christ! The Herr Major was thinking of anything! thought Fred, despairingly.

‘Well ... if it’s a sherry, we have it.’ Another Audley nod. “The most delicate dry sherry – also courtesy of the Luftwaffe . . . and presumably, General Franco – ‘

‘We have whisky.’ Otto knew his man better. ‘Ration Red Label and VAT 69. Black Label. Single Malt – and an Islay Malt, which dummy4

is good. And good gin, Booth’s and Gordon’s – ’ He stopped suddenly. ‘And we have also Tennessee whiskey, of Jack Daniel.

And several other American whiskies. And rum from Puerto Rico and Cuba, as well as Jamaica. But only a little Trinidad rum, I regret.’

‘Yes. That’s because the Crocodile likes it. So you’d better lay off that,’ agreed Audley hastily. ‘But brandy, of course. And a whole lot of Russian vodkas, of varying toxicity . . . which I wouldn’t actually recommend. And a whole lot of other things – just try us, and see – okay?’

Curiosity was great. But thirst was greater. ‘I’ll have a large Black Label – as soon as possible, please.’ Fred looked around. There were other officers in the gloom, but as Audley wasn’t trying to introduce them he’d better let that go. ‘You don’t travel light then?

Alcoholically speaking.’

‘No, we don’t.’ Audley grinned happily. ‘We inherited all the contents of the Schwartzenburg cellars, and it was a Luftwaffe headquarters. And we’re a very small unit, you see ... So the aim is to drink the place dry by New Year’s Day, 1946.’

Fred started to think Audley wasn’t stuttering. But then Otto materialized at his elbow, with his silver tray again, and a glass on it.

‘Thank you.’ The glass was large and heavy, and there was a lot in it.

‘We have no ice. But you would not have wanted that.’ Otto bowed slightly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen – ?’

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‘Go on, Otto, go on.’ Audley waved at the man. ‘Just make sure you keep the Crocodile’s glass full, that’s all –I want him in a benign mood this evening.’

‘Because of the injury to his car?’ Otto checked, and nodded.

‘Yes?’

‘Oh, you know, do you? But of course you do!’ Audley leaned towards Fred. ‘All is known to Otto – Otto knows everything. Otto can get you anything – isn’t that true, Otto?’

‘Have no fear.’ Otto raised a white-gloved hand. ‘The master has been well-attended.’ He bowed to Audley and backed away into the gloom again.

‘Yes, I don’t doubt.’ Audley watched the white coat disappear before turning back to Fred. ‘Otto likes Hughie – they’re thick as thieves. Which, of course, is what they both are. So they recognize the other’s worth . . . Amazing, really, when you think about it.’

‘Amazing?’ Somehow, Fred didn’t think Audley was referring to the Otto-Hughie entente, from the way he spoke. ‘What is?’