the rise to power of the Nazis without accepting that conclusion. In Hitler’s magnum opus he demanded Lebensraum for the German people. If one nation needed to expand it could only be at the expense of another.
In addition, and this had been his primary intelligence target, within the higher reaches of the German General Staff it was a common gossip that another war was inevitable, with the date of 1945 almost pencilled in as the time at which they reasoned Germany would be ready both economically and militarily to confront their old foes.
If it was to come, then McKevitt was of the opinion it should be when Britain was ready for it, perhaps with the Americans as allies. In the meantime Hitler needed to be diverted to the east and as far as the Ulsterman was concerned he could go as far as he wanted in that direction.
Yet it was axiomatic that the department for which he worked would have to expand dramatically over the next few years to confront a range of emerging dangers and McKevitt had enough personal arrogance to see himself as ideally suited to head the more powerful entity.
Sir Hugh Sinclair had been good in his time but he was now sixtyfive and must be nearing retirement, so when he was worried about being sidelined in a way that obviously diminished his standing, it was quite natural to call at Inskip’s office and express his concerns.
‘Sir Hugh is up to something in my backyard, Sir Thomas.’
‘I judge by your tone you have no idea what that is?’
‘While I see my superior as deserving of my respect, sir, I am also a servant of the government of the day, and what concerns me is that he is stepping outside his brief of support for the declared policy and at a very dangerous time.’
That had no need to be mentioned; even the proponents of the ‘policy’ were becoming uncomfortable with the word ‘appeasement’, which had originally been coined as a description of the need to satisfy the legitimate concerns of the dictator states. In a couple of years it had morphed into a means, in too many minds, to let them do whatever they wished to avoid conflict.
‘Deliberately so?’
‘We occupy a murky arena, Sir Thomas, so I would not wish to be so specific. But if my concern is genuine I have no means of finding out the truth. Right now I believe he might be colluding with the Government of Czechoslovakia to produce some rabbit that will force our country into an anomalous position.’
That too required no spelling out; the press, with the exception of the Daily Mail and The Observer, was split on appeasement, with even The Times occasionally posing awkward editorial questions, while the public mood was febrile and uncertain. In the social circles in which Sir Thomas moved — his club, his legal chambers and the drawing rooms of people of property — it had unqualified support.
But out in the country, certainly in the industrial north, the mood was not, by the accounts he was receiving, the same. His position involved him in visiting the factories and workshops where armaments were being designed and produced, an unpleasant task to a man as fastidious as he but one that could not be avoided. Even some of the military officers he was obliged to deal with were beginning to voice doubts.
‘If he is engaged in such a venture, Noel, then he is exceeding his brief. Are you sure he is not just seeking information in the normal manner?’
‘If he was doing that in Central Europe, Sir Thomas, he would go through me.’
Inskip nodded slowly; oversight of the intelligence service was outside his responsibilities but he knew who to talk to. ‘I shall have a word with the Home Secretary.’
‘I wonder,’ McKevitt advanced gently, ‘if it might also be wise to alert the prime minister?’
Quick to see a way to underline his loyalty, while not willing to appear to be guided by the man to whom he was talking, Inskip, the highly paid and quick-witted barrister, produced a ready answer. ‘An idea I had already considered, Noel. If what you say is true, Neville will be incandescent.’
‘Would you wish me to act as a conduit, sir?’
That involved a look into the Ulsterman’s eye, which was steady, as it should be for a man seeking in no way to hide his own hopes and ambitions, this while Sir Thomas Inskip was wondering if such an association and the information it could produce would help him to where he wanted to go, to one of the great offices of state in the gift of the prime minister: the Exchequer, the FO or the position of Home Secretary.
‘It can do no harm,’ he nodded. ‘I will instruct my civil servants that, should you call me on the telephone, you are to be put through to me on my private line. Now, if you will forgive me, Noel, I must dash — I’m invited to lunch at Cliveden by Lady Astor.’
McKevitt thought that a perfect way to tell him they were very different people; Sir Thomas Inskip thought so too.
‘Hey, Doc, I ran into a friend of yours down the Jewish Emigration Centre yesterday, nice kid called Elsa. Went kind of weak at the knees when I mentioned you, like she had a crush on you or something.’
That strident greeting, said in a loud and carrying voice, turned every head in the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel, busy with all sorts of folk; for a man who liked to be discreet it was anathema.
‘Do you ever talk softly, Corrie?’
‘Only when I carry a big stick.’
The arm was taken with the same force as previously and Corrie Littleton found herself propelled to a quieter corner of the hotel, an act that did nothing to diminish the interest of the other folk present.
‘Is that how you got pretty little Elsa out of the cradle?’
‘We’re just good friends.’
‘Well we’re not, so ease off with the third degree.’
‘Sit down and shut up, Corrie, and listen to what I have to say to you.’
‘That adds up to three things I don’t want to do, buster!’
He had to drop his voice. ‘But you would like a trip to the Sudetenland, wouldn’t you?’
About to produce a scathing response, she must have seen in his look that he was serious; she sat down quickly and he joined her. ‘You on the level?’
‘Better than that, Corrie, I think I can get you an interview with Konrad Henlein.’
‘Early morning and you’re drunk already! That guy hasn’t given an interview to a non-German newspaper for two years and the last one, from what I hear, was one of your Brits called Ward Price who the guys tell me is a Nazi himself and a prize shit.’
‘He works for a bigger one called Rothermere.’
‘What the hell, we’ve got Charles Lindbergh.’
Cal knew she was stalling. ‘Henlein is holed up in the Victoria Hotel in Cheb and if you put in a request for an interview it will be positively received. Do you want that I should go find another journalist to offer this to?’
That shut her up; there was nothing like professional rivalry to achieve her silence.
‘I am talking about just you and him, an exclusive, as well as a look around the town and Henlein’s home base in Asch, with maybe the chance to talk to the locals, and me along to interpret and make sure you don’t get yourself shot by some ardent Nazi thug.’
‘No cops?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t you mean why you?’
‘No, Doc, I mean “why?” You might come across as all charm, Cal Jardine, but you are one devious son of a bitch.’
‘I’ve always admired your command of the English language.’
‘One of these days I’ll give you my personal dictionary, but right now I would like to know what is in this for you.’
‘Typical, you try to do someone a favour-’
‘Cal, I don’t give a goddam what you are up to, I just want to know what it is that you get out of this offer.’
He had known he was never going to get away without an explanation, but he had enjoyed guying her a little. ‘Care to go for a walk?’
‘What’s wrong with right here?’
