John Le Carré - The Spy Who Came in from the Cold

"And so by the time Leamas arrived in Democratic Germany, Mundt was watching with fascination how Leamas nourished Fiedler's suspicions with hints and oblique indications—never overdone, you understand, never emphasized, but dropped here and there with perfidious subtlety. And by then the ground had been prepared—the man in the Lebanon, the miraculous scoop to which Fiedler referred, both seeming to confirm the presence of a highly placed spy within the Abteilung...

"It was wonderfully well done. It could have turned—it could still-turn—the defeat which the British suffered through the loss of Karl Riemeck into a remarkable victory.

"Comrade Mundt took one precaution while the British, with Fiedler's aid, planned his murder. He caused scrupulous inquiries to be made in London. He examined every tiny detail of that double life which Leamas led in Bayswater. He was looking, you see, for some human error in a scheme of almost superhuman subtlety. Somewhere, he thought, in Leamas' long sojourn in the wilderness he would have to break faith with his oath of poverty, drunkenness, degeneracy, above all of solitude. He would need a companion, a mistress perhaps; he would long for the warmth of human contact, long to reveal a part of the other soul within his breast. Comrade Mundt was right, you see. Leamas, that skilled, experienced operator, made a mistake so elementary, so human that—" He smiled. "You shall hear the witness, but not yet. The witness is here; procured by Comrade Mundt. It was an admirable precaution. Later I shall call—that witness." He looked a trifle arch, as if to say he must be allowed his little joke. "Meanwhile I should like, if I may, to put one or two questions to this reluctant incriminator, Mr. Alec Leamas."

"Tell me," he began, "are you a man of means?"

"Don't be bloody silly," said Leamas shortly. "You know how I was picked up."

"Yes, indeed," Karden declared, "it was masterly. I may take it, then, that you have no money at all?"

"You may."

"Have you friends who would lend you money, give it to you perhaps? Pay your debts?"

"If I had I wouldn't be here now."

"You have none? You cannot imagine that some kindly benefactor, someone perhaps you have almost forgotten about, would ever concern himself with putting you on your feet...settling with creditors and that kind of thing?"

"No."

"Thank you. Another question: do you know George Smiley?"

"Of course I do. He was in the Circus."

"He has now left British Intelligence?"

"He packed it up after the Fennan Case."

"An yes—the case in which Mundt was involved. Have you ever seen him since?"

"Once or twice."

"Have you seen him since you left the Circus?"

Leamas hesitated. "No," he said.

"He didn't visit you in prison?"

"No. No one did."

"And before you went to prison?"

"No."

"After you left prison—the day of your release, in fact—you were picked up, weren't you, by a man called Ashe?"

"Yes."

"You had lunch with him in Soho. After the two of you had parted, where did you go?"

"I don't remember. Probably I went to a pub. No idea."

"Let me help you. You went to Fleet Street eventually and caught a bus. From there you seem to have zigzagged by bus, tube and private car—rather inexpertly for a man of your experience—to Chelsea. Do you remember that? I can show you the report if you like, I have it here."

"You're probably right. So what?"

"George Smiley lives in Baywater Street, just off the King's Road, that is my point. Your car turned into Baywater Street and our agent reported that you were dropped at number nine. That happens to be Smiley's house."

"That's drivel," Leamas declared. "I should think I went to the Eight Bells; it's a favorite pub of mine."

"By private car?"

"That's nonsense too. I went by taxi, I expect. If I have money I spend it."

"But why all the running about beforehand?"

"That's just cock. They were probably following the wrong man. That would be bloody typical."

"Going back to my original question, you cannot imagine that Smiley would have taken any interest in you after you left the Circus?"

"God, no."

"Nor in your welfare after you went to prison, nor spent money on your dependents, nor wanted to see you after you had met Ashe?"

"No. I haven't the least idea what you're trying to say, Karden, but the answer's no. If you'd ever met Smiley you wouldn't ask. We're about as different as we could be."

Karden seemed rather pleased with this, smiling and nodding to himself as he adjusted his spectacles and referred elaborately to his file.

"Oh yes," he said, as if he had forgotten something, "when you asked the grocer for credit, how much money had you?"

"Nothing," said Leamas carelessly. "I'd been broke for a week. Longer, I should think."

"What had you lived on?"

"Bits and pieces. I'd been ill—some fever. I'd hardly eaten anything for a week. I suppose that made me nervous too—tipped the scales."

"You were, of course, still owed money at the library, weren't you?"

"How did you know that?" asked Leamas sharply. "Have you been—"

"Why didn't you go and collect it? Then you wouldn't have had to ask for credit, would you, Leamas?"

He shrugged.

"I forget. Probably because the library was closed on Saturday mornings."

"I see. Are you sure it was closed on Saturday mornings?"

"No. It's just a guess."

"Quite. Thank you, that is all I have to ask."

Leamas was sitting down as the door opened and a woman came in. She was large and ugly, wearing a gray overall with chevrons on one sleeve. Behind her stood Liz.

She entered the court slowly, looking around her, wide-eyed, like a half-awakened child entering a brightly lit room. Leamas had forgotten how young she was. When she saw him sitting between two guards, she stopped.

"Alec."

The guard beside her put his hand on her arm and guided her forward to the spot where Leamas had stood. It was very quiet in the courtroom.

"What is your name, child?" the President asked abruptly. Liz's long hands hung at her sides, the fingers straight.

"What is your name?" she repeated, loudly this time.

"Elizabeth Gold."

"You are a member of the British Communist Party?"

"Yes."

"And you have been staying in Leipzig?"

"Yes."

"When did you join the Party?"

"Nineteen fifty-five. No—fifty-four, I think it was—"

She was interrupted by the sound of movement; the screech of furniture forced aside, and Leamas' voice, hoarse, high-pitched, ugly, filling the room.

"You bastards! Leave her alone!"

Liz turned in terror and saw him standing, his white face bleeding and his clothes awry, saw a guard hit him with his fist, so that he half fell; then they were both upon him, had lifted him up, thrusting his arms high behind his back. His head fell forward on his chest, then jerked sideways in pain.

"If he moves again, take him out," the President ordered, and she nodded to Leamas in warning, adding: "You can speak again later if you want. Wait." Turning to Liz she said sharply, "Surely you know when you joined the Party?"

Liz said nothing, and after waiting a moment the President shrugged. Then leaning forward and staring at Liz intently she asked:

"Elizabeth, have you ever been told in your Party about the need for secrecy?" Liz nodded.

"And you have been told never, never to ask questions of another Comrade on the organization dispositions of the Party?"

Liz nodded again. "Yes," she said, "of course."

"Today you will be severely tested in that rule. It is better for you, far better, that you should know nothing. Nothing," she added, with sudden emphasis. "Let this be enough: we three at this table hold very high rank in the Party. We are acting with the knowledge of our Präsidium, in the interests of Party security. We have to ask you some questions, and your answers are of the greatest importance. By replying truthfully and bravely you will help the cause of socialism."