James Benn - Rag and Bone

I’d also learned about the Eastcheap Gentleman’s Club, where Archie had female refugees from all across Europe on offer, and that Archie and Topper had something big planned, and the top-secret move to Dover had sent them into a panic, thinking they’d been betrayed. Now I was the messenger boy, my job to find Rak Vatutin and ask him what was the time and place.

It was finally time to get to Dover. All I had to do was endure Harding’s wrath, find Big Mike, and figure out what to do with Kaz while the heat died down. Then find Vatutin, figure out what the target was, and somewhere along the way find out what Egorov’s death had to do with it all.

The only thing that was guaranteed was how steamed Harding would be, but I came up empty on that one. I found Big Mike at his desk, apologetic at not finding me in Berkeley Square. I told him I’d made my way back OK, filling him in on my bordello detour.

“Sam won’t be back until late this afternoon,” Big Mike said. “He’s up at Bletchley Park, whatever that is. Something hush-hush. But you got someone waiting for you in his office. Cosgrove.”

“Interesting. Where’s Kaz?”

“I stashed him at a pub across from the Rubens. I figured he could watch for Sheila to show herself, if the fog lifts, while I waited for you.”

I filled Big Mike in about Sheila, then opened the door to Harding’s office. Cosgrove stood by the window, hands behind his back. He gave a quick glance in my direction, then brought his gaze back to the green square below.

“I thought we ought to talk, Boyle.”

“Sure, Major,” I said as I took a seat opposite Harding’s desk. It gave me a side view of Cosgrove’s face, the best I could do. “Strange bunch in your office this morning. I got the distinct impression you didn’t see eye to eye.”

“Yes. I thought the hail-fellow-well-met routine would tell you as much.”

“It did. But why bother?”

“We’ve not seen eye to eye, either, Boyle, on several occasions. But I daresay our differences have been more of style. Perhaps belief also, but sincere belief on both our parts.”

“Can’t argue that. But the way you used me in our first encounter, that never set well with me. It was more than a difference in style.”

“Damn it, Boyle, there are pawns in war, and when you first came here, that was how you were best used. And to good effect, I may add. You know what Churchill said, about the best way to protect truth in wartime? To attend her with a bodyguard of lies. You were part of that bodyguard. Sorry if that’s difficult to accept, but there it is.”

“OK, OK, I get it. It doesn’t help to debate the past anyway. Why are you here?”

“Whatever our differences, I wanted you to know that I don’t approve of the actions of the man you know as Mr. Brown. He’s gone much too far. In the past, he’s had a number of successes that have gone to his head and blinded his superiors to the utter ruthlessness of his methods.”

“Did he approve of the plan to kill Tadeusz?”

“Yes. I found out about it too late to put a stop to it. I’m glad to hear it failed and the young man is doing well.”

“Really? Even though your government wants the Katyn Forest Massacre to be blamed on the Germans?”

“Boyle,” Cosgrove said, still unable to look me in the eye, “I will follow the orders of my government. If it is judged that it is in the best interest of Great Britain and the war effort that the deaths of those Poles be laid at the feet of the Germans, I say so be it. History can sort it all out when the war is won. But I will not sanction murder on English soil to improve our chance of success. I came here to tell you something else, though. Brown spoke of Sheila Carlson’s being hit by a truck, you recall?”

“Yes.”

“Apparently he was speaking of a plan, not an actual event. One of the problems with Brown is that he plays fast and loose with the truth, even among colleagues. He had sent one of his men to follow her and do the job.”

“But he didn’t?”

“No. She spotted him and gave him the slip at the first opportunity. Now she’s nowhere to be found. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying to work out what that meant in the mix of death, theft, intrigue, and betrayal I was trying to unravel. “There’s something I should tell you, too. Tadeusz is dead. I made up the story about his being alive in hopes it would get back to Sheila, and make her try again.”

“She was successful then?”

“Indirectly.” I told him the story of seeing Tad at St. Albans, and his reaction to hearing about Eddie and Sheila.

“The proverbial straw,” Cosgrove said, shaking his head. “How odd that we both have news about life and death, quite opposite in the telling. I must admit, I would have preferred the original stories to this outcome. Sheila Carlson seems to lack any moral center. Pity about the young Pole, truly.”

“His life was a nightmare. He said he wished he’d been killed with all the others.”

“He actually witnessed it? In Katyn?”

“Yes,” I said. “He told me the whole story. They pulled him out of line when they discovered they hadn’t finished questioning him. About one minute before he would have joined the bodies in the pit.”

“Dear God.”

Silence descended between us. Cosgrove rested his hands on the windowsill, weariness suddenly overcoming him. I waited, listening to the sounds drift up from the street below. Life flowing by, as if all the murders and lies in this war were to be expected and endured as a matter of course.

“There’s something else,” I said.

“What?” Cosgrove said, finally turning to face me.

“Kiril Sidorov knows about Diana Seaton, and her mission.”

“Impossible!”

“He didn’t mention her name, or where she is, but he did say he knew there was a woman I cared about on a mission behind enemy lines. How could he know that?”

“Do you know where she’s gone to?”

“I had Italy figured, probably Rome.”

“She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No, she got angry when I asked. But I put a few clues together, and Rome seemed like a safe bet. Maybe the Vatican?”

“I shouldn’t comment,” Cosgrove said, in a way that confirmed I’d been right. “But if that were the case, Rome is filled with Communists. She may have come into contact with a cell, but I don’t know why that information would be routed back to London.”

“Would Kim Philby know? He seemed to be in charge of SOE.”

“He is, for Spain and the rest of the Mediterranean. He definitely knows about all missions in the area. Sharp chap, but I wouldn’t come at him directly with a question about a security breach. He’s apt to have you thrown in a military prison while he looks into it. I will ask discreetly.”

“Will you let me know what you find out? About Diana, I mean.”

“Yes, I will. I won’t be able to reveal details, but I can let you know if she’s come to harm.” It was my turn to look away. I’d heard more than I wanted to about Gestapo torture chambers, more than I wanted to believe. “Sorry, Boyle, that was clumsily said. I will tell you what I find.”

“Thank you,” I said, facing Cosgrove. This was difficult for him, I knew. He’d followed orders all his life, with a certainty that he served a good and righteous master. Now his master had upset everything he believed in, everything he counted on, and he found himself conspiring with the likes of me. It took courage and, for the first time, I saw the younger man in him. Or maybe I simply saw him for who he really was, without regard to age, uniform, or belief in the British Empire.

“Save your thanks. I may need them and more before all is said and done.”