…’
He looked carefully from Cuthbertson to the American and then back again.
‘Over a year ago,’ he said, addressing Cuthbertson, ‘you British broke a Soviet espionage chain … it was remarkable for you to have done so. We thought of it as a brilliant installation, virtually undetectable. That you
Both Directors were quite still: Cuthbertson had his head bent to one side, as if he had difficulty in hearing. His face was deepening in colour and his eye was fluttering.
‘Moscow regarded the system created by Alexei Berenkov as the best in Europe since the war …’
From where Braley stood there was an uncomfortable movement of scuffing feet.
‘… Now Berenkov is in jail. And you both know that Russia does not allow its operatives, particularly one so highly regarded as Berenkov, to remain in captivity longer than is absolutely essential …’
‘… Are you telling us …’ attempted Ruttgers, but again Kalenin cut him off.
‘… I’m telling you that the Soviet government, which has already, incidentally, established a service to replace that which was broken, decided to repatriate Berenkov as soon as possible and deal to the espionage services of the West as damaging a blow as possible, to compensate for the destruction of Berenkov’s network.’
He stopped, waiting, but now neither Ruttgers nor Cuthbertson spoke.
‘Within the last ninety minutes,’ recounted the Russian General, ‘my men have seized, I sincerely hope without any fighting, the 200 operatives that you had positioned to guard my crossing …’
‘… But that’s impossible!’ protested Cuthbertson.
‘Oh no, not at all,’ disagreed Kalenin. ‘All you need is organisation and the right information, and I’ve got both. But I anticipated you would find it difficult to accept. I’m now in complete charge of this house. No doubt you’ve a method for summoning your people. Try it …’
Cuthbertson jabbed at a button set into the table, prodding it impatiently for response. They remained waiting for several minutes, but no one came.
‘Oh my God,’ muttered Cuthbertson.
‘… But that means …’ realised Ruttgers, unwilling to complete the fear.
‘… that as well as your operatives, I intend taking back to the Soviet Union for barter the English and American security Directors,’ confirmed Kalenin, happily.
‘As I explained,’ he enlarged, ‘we decided to make it as damaging as possible. Of course, we’ll release you both, in exchange for Berenkov. And all your operatives, too. They will be useless, unfortunately, photographed, fingerprinted and identified. But at least you’ll have them back …’
He hesitated, preparing the blow.
‘And you’ll both be utterly discredited,’ he added. The whole operation will set your services back years.’
‘What you’ve outlined would be impossible,’ insisted Cuthbertson, laughing nervously. ‘So few people knew the complete operation …’
His voice broke away and he looked beyond Kalenin to where only Braley stood.
‘Yes,’ concurred the Russian, seeing the gradual realisation. ‘There was no way I could have evolved the thing by myself.’
‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Ruttgers.
‘You really were incredibly stupid, Sir Henry. Charlie Muffin was one of the few real operatives in your service. Yet you set him up to be shot in Berlin, vilified him for his handling of the Berenkov affair when it was he who originated and co-ordinated the capture and then announced he was being downgraded …’
Kalenin spread his hands, in mock exasperation.
‘How can you expect loyalty when you treat a man like that?’ he demanded.
‘The bastard,’ shouted Ruttgers.
‘Yes,’ agreed Kalenin. ‘But he never made the pretence of being anything else, did he?’
‘You don’t think we’ll let you get out of this room alive?’ demanded Ruttgers, desperately defiant.
The Russian frowned, irritated.
‘Mr Ruttgers,’ he protested, mildly, ‘this room is the only one in the house not occupied by my men, all of whom are armed. Not that their weapons really matter. They’ll be through that door exactly two seconds after I give the command. I agree you could probably shoot me in that time, but to what point. At the moment, my country is prepared to deal with this matter in the utmost secrecy. But if I die, every detail will be leaked to the West, before your repatriation. That wouldn’t make for a very pleasant homecoming to Washington would it?’
‘We’ll still be laughing-stocks,’ said Ruttgers, deflated.
‘I’m afraid so,’ accepted the Russian. ‘But only to a few people in your governments. And you’ll be alive.’
‘What about the money?’ demanded Cuthbertson, suddenly.
‘Oh yes,’ said Kalenin, reminded. ‘That’s Charlie’s. Don’t forget he’s got a long retirement and he’s forfeited his pension rights.’
‘I’ll get him,’ vowed Ruttgers. ‘If it takes me until the day I die, I’ll get him.’
‘He expects you might try,’ said Kalenin. ‘I don’t think he’s too worried.’
He felt in his pocket.
‘He thought you might want this back,’ he said to Ruttgers, extending the device the American had installed in the bottom of the money-bag.
‘Not that it would really have mattered,’ added the Russian. ‘You’ve no one for a hundred miles you could have employed to trace it.’
Kalenin stood, shouting a command as he rose. Braley remained stolidly in front of the door, awaiting instructions.
Ruttgers tensed, then sighed, his shoulders drooping. He shook his head impatiently and the fat American unlocked it.
‘Shall we go?’ invited Kalenin.
(19)
Charlie and Edith sat cross-legged on the floor, the money piled neatly before them. Charlie held the list of numbered notes he and Braley had created and was carefully removing those that were a danger to them. Edith sat nearer the fire, feeding the money into the flames.
‘Fifty thousand,’ she moaned. ‘It seems such a waste!’
Would she ever lose her concern for money? wondered Charlie.
‘We’ll have to be very careful,’ he warned. ‘Both Rutgers and Cuthbertson are vindictive sods. It’ll all have to go.’
‘Are you really worried, darling?’ asked his wife.
Charlie paused in his selection, considering the question.
‘Properly aware of the dangers,’ he said, firmly.
‘You’ve got more money than me now, Charlie,’ said the woman, in sudden realisation. The barrier would be down between them, at last. She was glad, she decided.
Charlie smiled at her, content with her admission.
‘I know,’ he said. The satisfaction was very obvious in his voice.
‘Why don’t we spend mine first? I cashed all the shares and drew the money out, as you asked. Let’s get rid of my damned inheritance.’
Charlie looked at her, aware of the sacrifice. Edith was embarking completely upon a new life, he thought. He hadn’t known she’d appreciated so fully the resentment he had always felt about her wealth.
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘That would keep us going for several years, without having to touch this.’
‘And then,’ he continued, ‘during the first meeting with him, a thing she had never been before. He patted the bricks of money lying on the floor, then stood up, stretching the cramp from his legs.
