Call For The Dead

Then he began, stage by stage, to recount as dispassionately as possible the sequence of events hitherto:

'On Monday 2nd January Dieter Frey saw me in the park talking to his agent and concluded…' Yes, what did Dieter conclude? That Fennan had confessed, was going to confess? That Fennan was my agent? '... and concluded that Fennan was dangerous, for reasons still unknown. The following evening, the first Tuesday in the month, Elsa Fennan took her husband's reports in a music case to the Weybridge Repertory Theatre, in the agreed way, and left the case in the cloakroom in exchange for a ticket. Mundt was to bring his own music case and do the same thing. Elsa and Mundt would then exchange tickets during the performance. Mundt did not appear. Accordingly she followed the emergency procedure and posted the ticket to a prearranged address, having left the theatre early to catch the last post from Weybridge. She then drove home to be met by Mundt, who had, by then, murdered Fennan, probably on Dieter's orders. He had shot him at point blank range as soon as he met him in the hall. Knowing Dieter, I suspect that he had long ago taken the precaution of keeping in London a few sheets of blank writing paper signed with samples, forged or authentic of Sam Fennan's signature, in case It was ever necessary to compromise or blackmail him. Assuming this to be so, Mundt brought a sheet with him in order to type the suicide letter over the signature on Fennan's own typewriter. In the ghastly scene which must have followed Elsa's arrival, Mundt realised that Dieter had wrongly interpreted Fennan's encounter with Smiley, but relied on Elsa to preserve her dead husband's reputation — not to mention her own complicity. Mundt was therefore reasonably safe. Mundt made Elsa type the letter, perhaps because he did not trust his English. (Note: But who the devil typed the first letter, the denunciation?)

'Mundt then, presumably, demanded the music case he had failed to collect, and Elsa told him that she had obeyed standing instructions and posted the cloakroom ticket to the Hampstead address, leaving the music case at the theatre. Mundt reacted significantly: he forced her to telephone the theatre and to arrange for him to collect the case that night on his way back to London. Therefore either the address to which the ticket was posted was no longer valid, or Mundt intended at that stage to return home early the next morning without having time to collect the ticket and the case.

'Smiley visits Walliston early on the morning of Wednesday 4th January and during the first interview takes an 8.30 call from the exchange which (beyond reasonable doubt) Fennan requested at 7.55 the previous evening. Why?

'Later that morning S. returns to Elsa Fennan to ask about the 8.30 call — which she knew (on her own admission) would 'worry me' (no doubt Mundt's flattering description of my powers had had its effect). Having told S. a futile story about her bad memory she panics and rings Mundt.

'Mundt, presumably equipped with a photograph or a description from Dieter, decides to liquidate S. (on Dieter's authority?) and later that day nearly succeeds. (Note: Mundt did not return the car to Scarr's garage till the night of the 4th. This does not necessarily prove that Mundt had no plans for flying earlier in the day. If he had originally meant to fly in the morning he might well have left the car at Scarr's earlier and gone to the airport by bus.)

'It does seem pretty likely that Mundt changed his plans after Elsa's telephone call. It is not clear that he changed them because of her call.' Would Mundt really be panicked by Elsa? Panicked into staying, panicked into murdering Adam Scarr, he wondered.

The telephone was ringing in the hall.

'George, it's Peter. No joy with the address or the telephone number. Dead end.'

'What do you mean?'

'The telephone number and the address both led to the same place — furnished apartment in Highgate village?'

'Well?' 'Rented by a pilot in Lufteurope. He paid his two months' rent on 5th January and hasn't come back since.'

'Damn?'

'The landlady remembers Mundt quite well. The pilot's friend. A nice polite gentleman he was, for a German, very open handed. He used to sleep on the sofa quite often.'

'Oh God.'

'I went through the room with a toothcomb. There was a desk in the corner. All the drawers were empty except one, which contained a cloakroom ticket. I wonder where that came from . . . Well, if you want a laugh, come round to the Circus. The whole of Olympus is seething with activity. Oh, incidentally —'

'Yes?'

'I dug around at Dieter's flat. Another lemon. He left on 4th January. Didn't tell the milkman.'

'What about his mail?'

'He never received any, apart from bills. I also had a look at Comrade Mundt's little nest: couple of rooms over the Steel Mission. The furniture went out with the rest of the stuff. Sorry?'

'I see.'

'I'll tell you an odd thing though, George. You remember I thought I might get on to Ferman's personal possessions — wallet, notebook and so on? From the police?'

'Yes?'

'Well, I did. His diary's got Dieter's full name entered in the address section with the Mission telephone number against it. Bloody cheek?'

'It's more than that. It's lunacy. Good Lord.'

'Then for the fourth of January the entry is 'Smiley C.A. Ring 8.30: That was corroborated by an entry for the third, which ran 'request call for Wed. morning: There's your mysterious call:'

'Still unexplained.' A pause.

'George, I sent Felix Taverner round to the F.O. to do some ferreting. It's worse than we feared in one way, but better in another.’'

'Why?'

'Well, Taverner got his hands on the registry schedules for the last two years. He was able to work out what files have been marked to Fennan's section. Where a file was particularly requested by that section they still have a requisition form.''

'I'm listening?'

'Felix found that three or four files were usually marked in to Fennan on a Friday afternoon and marked out again on Monday morning; the inference is that he took the stuff home at week-ends?'

'Oh my Lord!'

'But the odd thing is, George, that during the last six months, since his posting in fact, he tended to take home unclassified stuff which wouldn't have been of interest to anyone.'

'But it was during the last months that he began dealing mainly with secret files,' said Smiley. 'He could take home anything he wanted:'

'I know, but he didn't. In fact you'd almost say it was deliberate. He took home very lowgrade stuff barely related to his daily work. His colleagues can't understand it now they think about it — he even took back some files handling subjects outside the scope of his section?'

'And unclassified?'

'Yes — of no conceivable intelligence value?'

'How about earlier, before he came into his new job? What kind of stuff went home then?'

'Much more what you'd expect — files he'd used during the day, policy and so on:'

'Secret?'

'Some were, some weren't. As they came.'

'But nothing unexpected — no particularly delicate stuff that didn't concern him?'

'No. Nothing. He had opportunity galore quite frankly and didn't use it. Windy, I suppose.'

'So he ought to be if he puts his controller's name in his diary.'

'And make what you like of this: he'd arranged at the F.O. to take a day off on the fourth — the day after he died. Rather an event apparently — he was a glutton for work, they say.'

'What's Maston doing about all this?' asked Smiley, after a pause.

'Going through the files at the moment and rushing in to see me with bloody fool questions every two minutes. I think he gets lonely in there with hard facts.'