The Mule on the Minaret (44 page)

‘Now tell me everything,' he had said. ‘Who was there, what did the controller say, what was the Palestine point of view?'

It took Reid half an hour to put Farrar in the general picture. Then Farrar started upon personalities. ‘Did you see Diana?'

‘Yes, I saw her.'

‘How was she?'

‘She was looking radiant.'

‘And how was Gustave?'

‘On the crest of the wave. He's got a Cypriot girl-friend.'

‘Having a lovely war, in fact.'

‘Having the war he wanted.'

‘No qualms about not being in the Western Desert?'

‘None that are apparent.'

‘Precisely as I planned. He'll do anything to preserve that lovely war of his. We've got him where we want him.'

‘What do you want him for?'

‘I don't know yet, but we may find a use for him. And what about old Adams?'

The discussion of personalities took quite a little while. ‘Well, and I guess that's everything,' Farrar said at last. ‘Unless you've anything on your mind?'

It was the worst possible moment to bring up the question of his transfer, but he could not go back to his own desk and heap of files and begin a morning's work as though he were still a permanent member of the office. He could not wait till lunch-time.

‘There is one other thing,' he said. ‘It's rather complicated. It'll
take a little time. I don't want to be disturbed when I'm explaining it.'

‘If we can't have privacy ourselves, what is security about?' He rang the bell under his desk. A corporal answered it. ‘No telephone calls for the next half-hour and no visitors. Not even the Minister himself. Well, and what is it?'

‘It's about Diana.'

‘Ah...'

‘Did you... I mean... about us... did you guess anything?'

‘I'm not blind, dear boy.'

‘In that case, you'll understand. The first thing I learnt when I went to Cairo was that she was having a wild affair with a Frenchman.'

‘And that surprised you?'

‘Doesn't it surprise you?'

‘Not in the least.'

‘But...' There was nothing he could say.

Farrar was smiling. ‘Diana's a young person in revolt. She's of her day and hour. And that's a very different day and hour from the ones in which you were a young man. Before the First World War there was no general knowledge about contraceptives. A girl couldn't make love with impunity. The consequences could be disastrous. An affair could be a very serious matter for her. But now she has immunity. She can live as freely as a man, if she's so inclined.'

‘I'm aware of that.'

‘You may be. But are you aware of the consequent corollaries to this immunity? If you were, I don't think you'd be surprised. We've always been told there was a basic difference between men and women, and of course there is: women bear children and men don't. There is a corollary to that difference, the fear of pregnancy, now that that's been removed, there's no reason why a girl shouldn't live as a man does: experiment and have affairs until she meets the man she wants to marry. That's why I wasn't surprised to hear that Diana was having an affair in Cairo.'

‘But she was having an affair with me.'

‘While she was here, she was. But she's in Cairo now. An affair isn't like a marriage. It's on a short-time basis; that's the whole point to it. So as I said, I'm not in the least surprised that Diana has a beau in Cairo.'

‘I was.'

‘I know you were. So, what . . .?'

‘I suppose I'd taken it too seriously.'

‘That's the chief snag about affairs. You go into them light-heartedly and one of you takes it more seriously than the other. It really was a shock to you?'

‘So great a shock that I don't feel I can work here any longer.'

‘I see.'

They looked at one another. At any rate I've said it now, thought Reid. ‘It's the being reminded of it all the time,' he said. ‘In the Cercle, at Sa'ad's, at the Lucullus; all the restaurants we've been to; and here in this office, with all the reports she filed and people talking of her. I've got to get over it; push it into the background of my mind. I can't do that here.'

‘I see that.'

‘That's why I want to go to Paiforce. I've discussed it with Stallard. There's a vacancy in their establishment.'

‘You haven't wasted any time.'

‘There wasn't any time to waste.'

‘What did Stallard say about it?'

‘He didn't want your feelings hurt.'

‘My feelings aren't hurt easily; and in a case like this...' He paused and grinned. ‘Prof., old boy. I'm going to miss you damnably. I didn't want you in this outfit to begin with. But that was only because I thought we'd have more fun together in that flat with you still in the Mission. And I'm not sure we wouldn't have. But it's worked out thunderingly well, and I shall miss you. But we shan't lose touch with one another in this racket. Let's have dinner tonight, and I'll put it on the house, since I'm now dealing with the G.2 Paiforce.'

They dined at the Cercle, as they had on that first November evening. ‘We'd best have something good to drink,' said Farrar. ‘You won't find anything in Baghdad. Their Arak's foul; made out of dates. Beer comes from Turkey and costs the earth. You'll have to rely upon your N.A.A.F.I. ration. Let's make the most of this. The city of the Caliphs isn't what it was.'

Farrar was in lively spirits. ‘I'm depressed as hell about all this,' he said. ‘I'll be waking up in the morning with a bright idea: “It'll be fun to learn what the old Prof. thinks of that,” and then I'll remember that you aren't here any more, that you're on the banks of the Tigris, plotting Heaven knows what mischief. But
there's one good thing about all this: it's better to leave a place three months too soon rather than three days too late. Nothing's worse than spoiling something that was fine by repetition or by hanging on too long. That's what Diana was so afraid of: having it hang on too long.'

‘What do you mean? Having what hang on too long?'

‘You and she. It could have no future. You're not free to marry; even if she had wanted marriage, which she most likely didn't. Can you picture her a Professor's wife? She was crazy about you; from the start; long before you knew about it. She got you into our office. And that trip to Damascus was her idea. But she knew it couldn't last. She was resolved that it should end on a high note, because it had been so glamorous; because it was continuing to be so glamorous. That's why you were sent off to the O.C.P.'

‘What on earth had she to do with it?'

‘Everything. She came to me about it. She was worried. “This is getting too serious,” she said. “For whom?” I asked. “For you or him?” “For both, but more for him—or rather it's more serious for him, if it gets serious.” She wanted to end it without hurting you. She said she wanted a posting somewhere else. That was easy to arrange, of course; but she made it more difficult by insisting that it should take place while you were away. There would be too much tension if you were in the office. Besides, she had a sense of dramatic irony. She wanted the last night to be an occasion that she would know was the last night, but you wouldn't. So we concocted that jaunt of yours with the O.C.P. Ingenious of us, wasn't it?'

‘It seems inconceivable to me.'

‘That's because you haven't tumbled yet to all the opportunities this racket offers. Provided you are on the ball when you need to be, you can do anything. On the day after you went she and I dined together. We both got rather high. She was delighted with herself. “He'll remember this as long as he remembers anything,” she said. “And so shall I.” '

‘I thought that was the way men felt. I didn't know women felt that way.'

‘Doesn't that bear out what I said? There may not be so much basic difference after all. Anyhow, not where a girl like Diana is concerned. About ten days after you'd left, she came into my office with a large fat letter in her hand. “Look at the weight of this. Wasn't I right to call down the curtain?” '

‘She didn't show you my letter?'

‘Of course she didn't. She wanted me to feel the weight of it; to show me how seriously you had begun to take it. She was so pleased with herself. My, but was she furious when you came back unexpectedly for the night. She was almost in tears next day. It spoiled everything; it ruined what she had planned as the perfect curtain. “I behaved abominably,” she said. “But I couldn't pretend. I couldn't put on an act.” '

‘You don't mean she put on an act that last night before I went to Deraa?'

‘Good heavens, no; except in as far as we all put on acts when we flatter ourselves that we are controlling our own destinies; but... you see how it was. She had created the ideal memory for you both... and then suddenly finding that she had to do a repeat performance. It was beyond her. She felt so guilty the next day. How was she in Cairo, by the way?'

‘She was very gracious. She was...' He checked. ‘I didn't know that you knew Diana as well as that.'

Farrar smiled. ‘Prof.,' he said, ‘you're one of the big thinkers of our day, as a historian. What was it they said about Lucullus:
rerum cognoscere causas,
knowing how things come about; but I really am amazed sometimes at your... no, that's the wrong word . . . innocence . . . that's not right. There's something about you that makes me feel rather humble. I'll tell you what it is. You're the only person I know in this damned Middle East who hasn't a personal axe to grind.'

Four months later in Baghdad, on a bright March morning, an orderly brought a long envelope to Reid. ‘The adjutant says this is important, sir.'

It was one of Johnson's chores as adjutant to sort out the mail each morning and dispatch it to the officers concerned. Reid opened the envelope. It was from the Istanbul office. It was addressed to the bureau's H.Q. in Cairo, with a short distribution list. It was a short letter. That was one of the points on which Sedgwick was insistent. ‘V.I.P.s are busy men. That's why they are V.I.P.s. If you are going to attract their attention, be brief and to the point.' Reid put the file he had been reading back into his in-tray. ‘O.K.,' he told the orderly.

The letter did not fill half a page. ‘Chessman has informed us that the Germans are about to send a wireless transmitter from Ankara to Baghdad. He does not know to whom it will be delivered. The German plan is this: Chessman will smuggle the wireless set through the Customs. The agent to whom he is to deliver it will join the train at Mosul. He will have a sleeping coach reserved on the train. The coach will have been reserved from the frontier. Shortly before the train reaches Mosul, Chessman will place the set in the coach. Chessman will never see the agent. Chessman presumes that he will be told the number of the reserved compartment in time to warn us. The operation is expected to be staged in a month's time. We await your instructions.'

‘At last,' Reid thought. ‘At last.' His spirits rose with a heady exultation. He could picture Nigel Farrar striding back and forth
up and down his Beirut office. ‘At last, at last,' he would be thinking. And Reid knew exactly how Farrar would see the issue, in terms of the deception campaign on which his heart was set. ‘Capture the agent; capture the set; force the agent to transmit the messages we want.' That indeed was the obvious Beiruti answer. But it was a Baghdadi not a Beiruti problem; and Baghdad was very different from Beirut. That was one of the first things he had learnt in the Middle East .'

Two years ago in London reading the accounts of the two campaigns, he had thought of them as being similar, short compact actions against negligible opposition, to remove German influence in the two key cities of the Middle East. They had only lasted a few weeks each. They had seemed side-shows to him; minor successes to compensate in part for the grim series of setbacks in Greece, in Crete and in the Western Desert. But as he realized now, they could not have been more different. The action in Syria and the Lebanon had been fought by the British against the Vichy French with a certain measure of assistance from the Free French Forces. It was part of the European War; it did not concern the Syrians and the Lebanese. In Iraq, on the other hand, the British had put down an armed revolt by the Iraqis against an Iraqi régime that had been established by the British, was backed by the British and was basically pro-British. The revolt against the Prince Regent had had the backing of a large section of the Iraqi people. Rashid Ali who had instigated it was the elected Prime Minister. Though the revolt had been encouraged and aided by the Germans, it had been essentially an Iraqi revolt. And there must be now in Iraq a great many people who regretted the defeat of Rashid Ali. The Syrians and the Lebanese on the other hand had stood outside the battle. They had only been concerned with the extent of the profit they were likely to be able to extract from the eventual victors. There was no fifth column in the Lebanon. There was in Iraq. That was why the arrival of a wireless set in Baghdad was an entirely different project here from what it would have been in Beirut. ‘I've got to think this out,' Reid thought. ‘I've got to get by myself.'

He put the letter in his tunic pocket and stood up. The centre was billeted in a series of old Turkish houses, on the west bank of the Tigris, a mile south of the Maude Bridge which linked the old city with the new residential section. The offices were in a house very similar to that which he had occupied in Deraa; two-storied,
with a balcony running round its upper floor, and set round a garden out of which a date-palm grew. The officers at work in their separate rooms looked like monks in cells, and indeed the place had a monastic air. He walked across to the main entrance. ‘I'll be around out here, if anybody wants me,' he told the sentry.