Debut for a Spy (43 page)

He dragged it from his pocket.
“You're bluffing. That's the list. It must be the list.”

“
Look at the fourth name, Dwight. Singhiz Lalkaka. Right out of the Goon Show. Look at the sixth name. Abdul Abulbul Amir. From an old 78rpm record. And to make sure, Dwight, look at the last phone number. Recognize it?”

“
My office! You fuck! What the hell are you up to?”

“
It finally clicked that giving it to you might be handing it to the KGB, so I set up this little test. You failed, Dwight. How long have you worked for them? I know about Stavic. Who went first? My guess is that he did in Korea, and then he made you an offer you couldn't refuse. Probably in Moscow. Is that it?”

“
What the fuck do you know about anything, you son-of-a-bitch? I was promised a crack at the vice-president's slot on the ticket. Then they changed their minds. This ambassador thing was their way of buying me off. Then what do I do? Stavic set it up, and now I have enough to live in style.”

“
But you had to deliver, didn't you, Dwight? The Kremlin boys want quid pro quo. And that list of Cal Fletcher's was part of the price, wasn't it? Were you in on his death too, Dwight? Did you set him up? Nice way to treat a friend. Now what? No list, and I have it, safe and sound.”

“
How much do you want for it,” he rasped. “Name your price. Whatever you want.”

“
That sounds desperate, Dwight. No deal. I'm not for sale. But I'll make you an offer. You resign tomorrow – call it ill health, if you like – and I won't say anything. Stay out of aerospace and politics, live a quiet life somewhere, and I'll leave you alone. But if I hear you're involved in anything sensitive, then the Justice Department gets everything I have on you and Stavic. What do you say, Dwight?”

“
You bastard. You had to come along and fuck it up, didn't you? Well you can go to hell. I'll kill you, and then I'll tear that apartment of yours apart. You haven't had time to get rid of the list, and Kate knows about it. She'll tell us. I've sent some people to get her. You're finished, Baird.”

He squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

“You have to chamber a round and cock it, Dwight.”

Feverishly he worked the slide as I pulled the Browning from my pocket and pointed it at him.

“Drop it, Dwight!”

He pulled the hammer back and jerked the gun toward me.

I fired, hitting him high on the right shoulder. The gun fell from his hand, and he went down on his knees. There was the sound of running feet, and Tony Cippola with two other agents came full tilt down the lane.

“
Jesus, Tony! I was afraid you weren't going to make it. I stalled as long as I could. A few more seconds and he'd have been potting at me.”

“
Sorry, David. We got lost. Did ya get it all?”

“
I think so. I ran a wire recorder on the car battery, and the microphone was wedged in the quarter-light.”

“
The what?”

“
No-draft to you.”

“
Hey, I'm from Brooklyn.”

The other two were attending to the ambassador. I rewound the spool, then put it on play.

“I was afraid you'd gotten lost” said Vandenburg’s recorded voice.

“
Took longer than I thought…”

“
That's what we're gonna need, David. We can count on your co-operation?”

“
Anyway you want it. That's why I called you – it's your turf. But that unsuppressed shot of mine will probably bring the law, so I think I'll cut out. Better have a story ready.”

“
Whadaya think we are, amachoors?”

He gave me a good-natured pat on the back, and I got away in the nick of time. Three 'Black Marias' were belting down the road.

*

I wasted no time in getting home. My other telephone call had been in the nature of additional insurance, and I wanted to make sure that the policy was in force. Deliberately I parked around the corner on Hamilton Close and walked to the block of flats. The tall figure was waiting on the corner, smoking a pipe.

“Good evening again, Minstrel.”

“
Colonel. How are things here?”

“
Under control. They arrived within 20 minutes. We let them commit themselves, then moved in and picked them up.”

“
Get anyone worthwhile?”

“
Much to our surprise we nabbed a Soviet. That helps. He'll be expelled, and the other three will be sent down.”

“
Is Kate all right?”

“
Of course. It was quiet, and we had them out of there in the blink of an eye. I have some good news for you. We convinced the authorities in Lisbon that there were five British people aboard the Empress of Britain who were wanted for drug-smuggling. We got them off. Home in a day or so.”

“
Are they all right?”

“
Two have bullet wounds, and they were all a bit roughed up, but our sources say they're now being well looked after and they're in good spirits.”

“
Thank God for that. Without them I'd never have made it.”

“
I think this about wraps it up, doesn't it?”

“
Not quite. I still have that list we found. I don't know what to do with it. The Americans want it, the Soviets want it, and they're both desperate. The thing is like a loose cannon on deck – it’s going to roll around wreaking havoc until it goes off. Then a lot more are going to be hurt.”

“It's nothing to do with us, David. I'm afraid it's a matter of conscience, for both you and Kate. I'm off now. I'll be in touch. Cheerio.”

And away he sauntered. I went in quietly. The night man was back at his post, giving me a strange look as I passed. I went into the flat, considered going to sleep, but there was too much on my mind. Kate was in my bed, so I left her there in the security of her parents' closeness.

I made tea, and I sat, sipping, and was still sitting long after it had gone cold and a dreary day had dawned on London. Kate found me like this in the morning – gazing into space, almost in a trance. She had to touch me to bring me out of it.

“
David… what's wrong?”

“
Oh!... oh, nothing. I'm just trying to reconcile the person I used to be with the person I've become.”

“
Any success?”

“
Not much. I'm going to take some getting used to.”

“
What happened last night with Dwight?”

As carefully and as gently as I could I told her the truth about Vandenberg. I expected this to be the final straw – that it would tear her apart. I was wrong. She listened with icy calm.

“Where is it?”

I told her. She left the room and returned with the list from the bedpost.

“I know my father, David. The reason this list was not known to anyone was because he wanted to protect the people who trusted him. If I found it, he'd want me to do what I thought was best. He told me, didn't he?”

We went into the kitchen. Kate turned a burner on in the gas stove, held the sheet of vellum in it until it caught fire, then threw it in the sink where we watched it burn into black fragments. She washed the residue down the drain.

“Ashes to ashes,” I murmured, not knowing why.

Kate responded.
“That's strange, David. I almost feel better, as if I'd been given a chance to bury them.”

I held her hand as we stared into the sink.

We had celebrated a requiem for Cal and Betty Fletcher.

*

Kate went out later to the Royal Academy. Her reality was returning. Mine, on the other hand, was eluding me. I made more tea, resuming my seat to stare out at the grayness which seemed to invade my mind. I considered my two previous weeks… no, it was only eleven days. Could that be possible? I felt the weight of a lifetime on me from the intensity of my involvement, and, while I was glad it was over, there was a part of me which was going to miss the unexpected challenges. I had been taken to my extremes, and I knew I would never be the same again. How this would eventually affect my life I couldn't even imagine, but without doubt it would leave its mark probably a very deep one.

Marijke. I couldn't think of her without feeling the pain of loss. The most depressing aspect was not the distance between us, but the void of communication. Any attempt at contact by either of us could endanger her and her family
– it was unthinkable.

But for how long?

A lifetime?

A lifetime of loneliness.

EPILOGUE

London
,
England
–
July
to
September
,
1962

The papers reported Dwight Vandenberg's 'breakdown' from overwork. He went back to the States into a 'secluded sanatorium'. Privately Tony Cippola told me they'd given him immunity from prosecution in return for every detail of his and Stavic's espionage. The FBI and CIA together put fourteen people in prison or out of office because of his confession. The government was happy, Vandenberg was neutralized, and scandal was avoided.

Both the British and the Soviets agreed that the theft of the P1127 never happened. The Soviets claimed that it had been a rogue faction within the KGB acting without orders, and that the leaders had been disciplined. No one believed any of it except the part about the leaders being disciplined. Little doubt about that.

Vandenberg's 'illness' undoubtedly led the Soviets to believe that Cal Fletcher's list had been intercepted by the CIA. I told Tony the truth. They weren't happy, but that was the end of it.

Kate was a sensation in Antigone. Olivier himself singled her out for praise, and she had several offers to choose from. She had arrived. Her only regret was that her parents had not lived to see it. I filled in as best I could, and we remained close, with a bond that transcended that of spouse or lover
– ours was unswerving and permanent.

Luggage arrived at my flat one day, amazingly, everything I had taken aboard the Empress of Britain. The band had managed to get it together with their equipment, and when they had been 'arrested', it all came off the ship with them. Patiently I sifted through it, looking in every nook and cranny for some message from Marijke, but to no avail.

Nothing at all appeared in the press about Nalishkin or Bracklesham Bay. The Soviets kept an airtight lid on the whole thing, and Hammond told me that they had taken the mess away by launch, dumping it all into the Atlantic. No ambulances or hearses had appeared to attract the curious, and since it was Soviet territory no report was made to British authorities. Hammond's team had had a field day setting up their scenario, and the ridicule which would have ensued did not bear consideration.

When my cheque arrived from the Soviet embassy I got my own back by donating the whole thing to Amnesty International's fund for Soviet political prisoners.

I managed to see the Bedfords a couple of times, and Bill kept me up-to-date on the progress of the P1127 – the 4th and 5th prototypes were flying. With heightened British interest more funds were made available, and there were feelers from the U.S. Marines. Its future seemed fairly secure.

Through July and August I was totally involved in Curtain Call – rehearsals, costume fittings, publicity, et cetera, and suddenly, before we knew it, we were ready for our pre-West End run in Brighton. It went well, and with minor changes to a couple of production numbers we headed for London and the Victoria Palace Theatre. When I could, while we were in Brighton, I drove to Seaford and walked out on the cliffs to sit and look at the Seven Sisters. I felt Marijke here, and I missed her so much that I clung to every tangible link to bring her closer.

Nicki phoned the Soviet embassy from time to time to ask for her. For a few weeks they said that she had not returned from Russia, then they changed it to say that she had been 'reassigned'. I shuddered at the ambiguity.

One day I received a call from Colonel Hammond asking me to come to meet him at Clarence House on The Mall on the following day. I couldn’t imagine what for, since this was a Royal Residence, but he wouldn’t tell me, just said that I should be there at 1400 hours and not one minute late, and be in freshly pressed uniform.

When I arrived I was shown in to a large, beautiful drawing room. The colonel was there, and, to my surprise, so was Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester, Queen Elizabeth’s uncle. He was in army uniform wearing Field Marshal’s rank. Hammond introduced me, but I was more bewildered than ever.

“
David,” said Hammond, “Ordinarily, officers who are in SIS or MI5 do not receive medals for bravery. It’s part of the job. You, however, are an exception, since you are also an officer in the Territorial Army, however spurious that may be. His Royal Highness is here to present you with the nation’s second highest award for gallantry, the George Cross.”

I was speechless. Prince Henry picked up the medal from a sideboard, coming to stand in front of me.

“Major Baird, it gives me great pleasure to present you with the George Cross, for acts of great heroism, conspicuous courage, and in circumstances of extreme danger. And may I add personally that you have saved this country from a disaster of immeasurable proportions. I offer my sincere congratulations and thanks from Her Majesty and the British nation.”

He pinned the medal on my lapel and shook my hand.

“I don’t know what to say, sir, except that others are as deserving as I, for without them I could not have accomplished anything.”

“
I understand that has been looked after,” said the prince. “I apologize for leaving so abruptly, but there is a meeting which requires my presence. Once again I congratulate you, Major Baird, and my wife and I will be present on opening night of your new show.”

With that he was gone.

“What did he mean, colonel, about something being been looked after?”

“
The members of the ship’s band have all been given MBEs – Members of the Order of the British Empire. You realize, of course, that all of these honours are conferred in secret. They won’t be gazetted, and none of you can wear them. If the reason for their awarding ever came up it would unleash bloody hell with the Soviets, and besides, you’d never be able to justify the award to anyone without revealing the truth.”

*

On opening night in early September, Kate, Nicki and House were with me in my dressing room before the show, helping keep track of the phone calls, flowers, cards, gifts, and telegrams which arrived. Despite the excitement and anticipation, I was inwardly depressed that Marijke wasn't there to share this moment with me. I tried not to let the cast see my sadness, but on this night it was extremely difficult to keep the mask in place.

My mood changed abruptly from forced good humor to exuberance when House, who had been reading the telegrams out loud, began chuckling to himself.

“I say, chaps, here's a new one for you. It reads: 'David Baird, Victoria Palace Theatre, etc. (stop) I hope your pants fall down (stop)'. It's unsigned.”

I jumped up.
“Give that to me!”

I read it, my heart pounding. Origin: Amsterdam. God knows where she really was, not a chance she was in Amsterdam, but somehow she had reached me, probably through her father. It was the finest gift I could have received. I went out that night with an exhilaration that infected the cast, and the show caught fire.

I did the closing 'curtain call' section with an introspection reaching deep inside me. I knew I was a different person because of my eleven days in June, and I was only gradually finding out how it had affected me. This night was one of the revelations. The audience sensed it, and there was electricity in the air which charged the hushed gathering. I sang my last song clearly and effortlessly, but with unashamed tears.

“
You are here, closer to my heart,

You are here, though we’re far apart;

I can’t understand, I reach for your hand –

It’s not there,

But, in my dreams,

I feel your touch, and so it seems

Here you are, walking by my side,

Never far – love can’t be denied;

But when I awake, alone with my fear –

It’s so unclear;

My life won’t ever be till you are here.”

And now there was a glimmer of hope.