Hawn took out the sealed envelope containing the money, in one-hundred dollar bills. He pushed it across to Mönch. The old man did not touch it.
‘Herr Hawn, I regret that the price has increased. Ten thousand dollars. Not a cent less.’
Hawn sought in vain for the appropriate German obscenity. Instead, he left the envelope lying there. ‘We made an agreement.’
‘Unhappily, mein lieber Herr, there have been certain developments in the last forty-eight hours. You know we mentioned the Wiesenthal Office when we last met. Well, unfortunately it is not the only gang of self-appointed moralists who have chosen to track down former servants of the Third Reich — it is just that they are the most notorious, and the most successful.’
He sipped his coffee, without offering any to Hawn. ‘For some time now I and my friends here in Spain have heard reports of another organization — this time French. They call themselves Jacques — after the initials JAG — Justice pour les Anciens Combattants. They are old Resistance men — fanatical, embittered, above all soured by the knowledge that they lost the war — and with far less courage and honour than we did. Their aim is simple. Revenge. They do not think that the present governments in Western Europe do enough to persecute those of us who are left.
‘Last night, after you had gone, I received a telephone call from an old comrade. He warned me that a senior member of Jacques had arrived in Logrono, a little town about fifty kilometres from here, halfway to Pamplona.’ He put down his coffee cup, half-drunk, and pushed it away from him; but still did not touch the envelope. ‘Herr Hawn, I find this distasteful, but I must ask you to formally identify yourself. The night before last I did not ask for your credentials, or those of your companion, because I had no reason to fear intruders or imposters.
‘I am not a coward,’ he added quickly. ‘I accept the divine law of Buddha, and will gladly accept my fate. But I would be lacking in my spiritual duties if I were to neglect even the simplest precautions. May I see your passport, Herr Hawn?’
Hawn still had it with him, as he had needed it at the bank in Madrid. He took it out and tossed it across the table between them.
Mönch sat examining it with more than usual interest, turning the pages slowly, holding some of them at an angle so that he could better read the entry and exit stamps. ‘You have travelled very widely. That is not exceptional, of course, for a journalist. North Africa, the subcontinent of Asia, Indo-China? It is all excellent cover.’ (He used the military expression, Tarnung). Finally he snapped the passport shut and placed it beside the envelope. ‘I am already checking where you last stayed before coming to Soria. If it happened to be Logrono — even by chance — I am afraid that the consequences for you will be serious.’
Hawn had loosened his shirt, and in the heat of the little garden had begun to sweat. ‘I am delighted you are taking the trouble. The Spanish authorities will confirm that I and my companion stayed two nights ago at the Hotel Tres Reyes Nobles in Pamplona. They did not register my companion, Fraulein Anna Admiral, who also has a British passport. But you will be able to confirm her identity here at the Hotel Parador Antonio Machado.’
Mönch watched him in silence.
Hawn wiped some sweat off his eyelids. ‘Herr Doktor, our discussions yesterday were a ploy, were they not? You had no intention of selling me any information. You were testing me. Testing me to find out if I had any connection with this organization, Jacques?’ But while he spoke with sincerity, an uncomfortable worm of suspicion was beginning to stir in his mind. He was thinking of Pol.
‘You don’t have to believe me, Herr Doktor. But I’ve never heard of Jacques. The only time I’ve been in Logrono was when we stopped for a couple of beers on our way down from Pamplona four days ago.’ He reached out and collected his passport and the still unopened envelope. ‘Why do you now want ten thousand?’
‘Because I must get away. To disappear, if only temporarily. I am not a rich man and I need the funds. I am also, as I said, no coward. Nor am I a fool. It would take a fool to lay himself open to the justice of a bunch of French gangsters.’ He paused, and his foot began to kick the leg of the table.
‘Herr Hawn, I wish to renegotiate our agreement. I will accept the six thousand dollars as an advance payment. You in turn will receive, at the Poste Restante of the American Express in Madrid, the documents you required — within less than a week. You will also receive an address to which you will forward the next four thousand dollars.’
‘All of a sudden you seem to be trusting me an awful lot — considering that I might have something to do with these Frenchmen?’
Mönch gave a crafty smile. ‘Do not be naive, lieber Herr. You mentioned to me the other night that you had heard a rumour about certain secret documents being hidden after the war. It is just possible that I can help you in this matter. But the price will be those four thousand extra dollars. Is this new arrangement agreeable to you?’
‘It still requires a great deal of mutual trust.’
‘Herr Hawn, you have far more reason to trust me than I
