Yes. He wondered if Trelawney-Smythe and Kleist had ever met.
Then you know how the communists operate?
You think they all operate the same way?
I think the Soviets have certain well-practiced methods, yes.
Youre probably right.
Well, then. We dont think this will be the end of it. We think theyll ask for more and more.
More and more articles? And who is we?
Trelawney-Smythe smiled. Dont play the innocent. You know who we are. And you know Im not talking about your articles, amusing as they are. We think theyll be asking you for other information. The usual method is to keep upping the ante, until youre no longer in a position to refuse. Because theyll shop you to the Germans if you do.
As you said, I know how they operate. And its my lookout, isnt it?
Not completely. Do you see this? Trelawney-Smythe asked, indicating the words at the foot of the article, which identified the name, nationality, and credentials of the author.
Yes.
An Englishman currently living in Germany, Trelawney-Smythe read out, just to be sure.
Thats me.
Trelawney-Smythe tapped on the paper with an index finger. You are English, and your behavior will reflect on the rest of us. Particularly at a time like this.
A dont-rock-the-boat-for-Gods-sake sort of time?
Something like that. Relations between us and the Soviets are, shall we say, difficult at the moment. They dont trust us and we dont trust them. Everybodys looking for signals of intent. The smallest thinglike
Im just doing my job.
All right. But how would you feel about providing us with advance copies of your articles. Just so we know whats coming.
Russell laughed. You too? He explained about his arrangement with the SD. Why not? he said. I might as well run off a few carbons for Mussolini and Daladier while Im at it. He put his hands on the arms of the chair, preparing to lift himself up. Anything else?
We would appreciate being told if this goes beyond a mere commercial arrangement. And obviously wed be interested in anything you learn which might be of use to your country.
Ive already learned one thing. The Soviets think the British and French are trying to cut them out. Look how long Hitler gave the ambassador at the opening last week. Look at the new trade deal talks. If you dont start treating the Soviets as potential allies, theyll do a deal with Hitler.
I think Londons aware of that.
You could have fooled me. But what do I know? He looked at his watch. I have a lunch date. He extended his hand across the desk. Ill bear what youve said in mind.
Enjoy your lunch.
Russell dropped in on Conway on his way out.
Still talking to me? the diplomat asked.
You, yes; the Empire, no.
Hes just doing his job.
I know. Look, thanks for the dinner invite. Ill let you know soon as I can. Russell paused at the door. And I will be sorry to see you go, he added.
IT WAS A FAST five-minute walk to Russischer Hof on Georgenstrasse, where he and Thomas usually met for lunch. As he hurried east on Unter den Linden Russell replayed the conversation with Trelawney-Smythe in his mind. Rather to his surprise it had been refreshingly free of threats. If British intelligence wanted to, he imagined that they could make his life a lot more difficult. They could take away his passport, or just make renewal harder. They could probably make it harder for him to sell his work in England, his prime market. A word to a few knighthood-hungry editorsin fact a mere appeal to their patriotismand his London agent would be collecting rejections on his behalf. On the plus side, it was beginning to look as if every intelligence service in Europe was interested in employing him.
It was a raw day, the wind whipping in from the east, and Russell turned up his collar against it. A tram slid under the railway bridge, bell frantically ringing, as he turned off Friedrichstrasse and into Georgenstrasse. The Russisches Hotel was a nineteenth-century establishment once favored by Bismarck, and sometimes Russell wondered if they were still recycling the same food. The elaborate decor created a nice atmosphere, though, and the usual paucity of uniformed clientele was a definite bonus.
Russells ex-brother-in-law was seated at a window table, glass of Riesling in hand, looking dourly out at the street. The dark gray suit added to the sober impression, but that was Thomas. When theyd first met in the mid- 20s Russell had thought him the epitome of the humor-less German. Once he had gotten to know him, however, he had realized that Thomas was anything but. Ilses brother had a sly, rather anarchic sense of humor, completely lacking in the cruelty which marked much popular German humor. If anything he was the epitome of the decent German, an endangered species if ever there was one.
The pot roast with cream sauce, red cabbage, and mashed potatoes seemed an ideal riposte to the weather, which was now blowing snow flurries past their window. Hows the business? Russell asked, as Thomas poured him a glass of wine.
Good. Weve got a lot of work, and exports are looking up. The new printers have made a huge difference. You know the Worlds Fair in New York this April? It looked for a moment as if we might have a stand there.
What happened?
It seems the organizers have decided to include a pavilion celebrating pre-Nazi German Art. And emigre art. If they do, the government will boycott the Fair.
Thats a shame.
Thomas gave him a wintry smile. Given the context, its hard to be that upset. And theres always the chance that the Ministry would have refused to let us go. Because of our employment policies.
Only one firm in Berlin employed more Jews than Schade Printing Works.
You dont have room for one more, I suppose? Russell asked, thinking of Albert Wiesner.
Not really. Who do you have in mind?
Russell explained the Wiesners situation.
Thomas looked pained. I have a waiting list of around two hundred already, he said. Most of them are relatives of people who already work there.
Russell thought of pressing him but decided not to. He could hear Albert in his head: One familys success is another familys failure. I understand, he said, and was about to change the subject when the waiter arrived with their meals.
Both men noticed that the portions seemed smaller than usual. Sign of the times, Thomas observed.
The roast tasted better than usual, though. Any chance of things getting better? Russell asked. Thomas had no more inside information than Russells other friends in Berlinand considerably less than manybut hed always had a remarkable knack for knowing which way the wind was blowing.
I dont know, was his answer. Ribbentrops off to Warsaw again. They seem to be trying. He shrugged. Well probably find out more on Monday.
That was the day of Hitlers annual speech to the Reichstag commemorating his own accession to the Chancellorship. Id forgotten about that, Russell admitted.
Youre probably the only person in Europe who has. I think the whole continents hanging on it. Will he keep the pressure on, demand more? Or will he take the pressure off? That would be the intelligent move. Act as if hes satisfied, even if hes only pausing for breath. But in the long run. . . . Its hard to see him stopping. Hes like a spinning coin. Once he stops spinning, hell fall flat.
Russell grunted. Nice.
