Philip Kerr - If the Dead Rise Not

“Good question. Well, we’ll have more money from the Americans, of course. Lots more money. That’s always a good start. The new bureau will also be trained, equipped, and tasked directly by the CIA to identify and repress only communist activities; as opposed to the SIM, which exists to eliminate all forms of political opposition.”

“This is the democracy you were talking about, right?”

“No, you’re quite wrong to be sarcastic about this,” insisted Quevedo. “The new bureau will be commanded directly by the greatest democracy in the world. So that ought to count for something, surely. And, of course, it goes without saying that international communism isn’t exactly known for its own toleration of opposition. To some extent you have to fight like with like. I’d have thought you of all people would understand and appreciate that, Señor Hausner.”

“Lieutenant, I meant what I said when I told you I have no desire to see this country turn red. But that’s all I meant. My name is not Senator Joseph McCarthy, it’s Carlos Hausner.”

Quevedo’s smile widened. I imagine he could have done a pretty good imitation of a snake at a children’s party, if ever any children had been allowed near a man like Quevedo.

“Yes, let’s talk about that, shall we? Your name, I mean. It isn’t Carlos Hausner, any more than you are or ever were a citizen of Argentina, is it?”

I started to speak, but he closed his eyes as if he wouldn’t hear of being contradicted, and patted the briefcase on his lap. “No, really. I know quite a bit about you. It’s all in here. I have a copy of the CIA’s file on you, Gunther. You see, it’s not just Cuba where there’s a new spirit of cooperation with the United States. It’s Argentina, too. The CIA is just as keen to prevent the growth of communism in that country as it is here in Cuba. Because the Argentines have their own rebels, just as we do. Why, only last year the communists exploded two bombs in the main square of Buenos Aires, killing seven people. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

“When Meyer Lansky told me about your background in German intelligence, fighting Russian communism during the war, I must confess I was fascinated and decided to find out more. Selfishly I wondered if we might be able to make use of you in our own war on communism. So I contacted the Agency chief and asked him to check with his opposite number in Buenos Aires, to see what they could tell us about you. And they told us a great deal. It appears that your real name is Bernhard Gunther and that you were born in Berlin. There you were first a policeman, then something in the SS, and finally something in German military intelligence-the Abwehr. The CIA checked you out with the Central Registry of War Criminals and Security Suspects-CROWCASS-and also the Berlin Document Center. And while there’s no record of your being wanted for any war crimes, it does seem that there’s a warrant out on you from the police in Vienna. For the murders of those two unfortunate women.”

There seemed little point in denying what he’d said, even though I hadn’t murdered anyone in Vienna. But I thought I might explain it away to his political satisfaction.

“After the war,” I said, “and because of my experience fighting the Russians, I was recruited by American counterintelligence: first by the 970th CIC in Germany, and then the 430th in Austria. As I’m sure you’re aware, the CIC was the forerunner of the CIA. Anyway, I was instrumental in uncovering a traitor in their organization. A man named John Belinsky, who turned out to have been working for the Russian MVD. This would have been in September 1947. The two women were much later on. That was in 1949. One of them I killed because she was the wife of a notorious war criminal. The other was a Russian agent. The Americans will probably deny it now, of course, but they were the ones who got me out of Austria. On the ratline they provided for escaping Nazis. They provided me with a Red Cross passport in the name of Carlos Hausner and got me on the boat to Argentina, where, for a while, I worked for the secret police. The SIDE. At least I did until the job I was on turned into an embarrassment for the government, and I became persona non grata. They fixed me up with an Argie passport and some visas, which is how I fetched up here. Since then I’ve been trying to keep out of trouble’s way.”

“There’s no doubt about it, you’ve had an interesting life.”

I nodded. “Confucius used to think so,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. I’ve been living here quietly since 1950. But recently I bumped into an old acquaintance, Max Reles, who, knowing my background with the Berlin Criminal Police, offered me a job. I was going to take it, too, until he got himself killed. By now Lansky knew something of my background as well, and when Max got himself killed, he asked me to look over the shoulder of the local militia. Well, you don’t say no to Meyer Lansky. Not in this town. And now here we are. But I really don’t see how I can help you , Lieutenant Quevedo.”

There was a shout from one of the soldiers digging in front of us. The man threw down his shovel, knelt down for a moment, peered into the ground, straightened, and then gave us a sign that he had found what they were looking for.

I pointed at them. “I mean, beyond the help I’ve already given you with this arms cache.”

“For which I am very grateful, as soon I’ll prove to your satisfaction, Señor Gunther. I may call you that, may I not? It is your name, after all. No, I want something else. Something quite different. Don’t get me wrong. This is good. This is very good. But I want something more enduring. Let me explain: it’s my understanding that Lansky has offered you a job working for him. No, that’s not quite the truth. It’s rather more than an understanding. As a matter of fact, it was my idea-that he offer you a job.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I imagine he’ll pay well. Lansky is a generous man. For him, this is simply good business. You get what you pay for. He’s a gambler, of course. And like most intelligent gamblers he dislikes uncertainty. If he can’t have certainty, he’ll do the next best thing and hedge his bet. Which is where you come in. You see, my employers would like to know if and when he tries to hedge his bet on Batista by offering the reds financial support.”

“You want me to spy on him, is that it?”

“Exactly so. How difficult can this be for a man such as yourself? Lansky is a Jew, after all. Spying on a Jew should be second nature to a Nazi.”

There seemed to be no point in arguing with that. “And in return?”

“In return, we agree not to deport you to Austria to face those murder charges. You also get to keep whatever Lansky pays you.”

“You know, I had been planning a short trip home to Germany. To take care of some family business.”

“I regret that will no longer be possible. After all, if you left, what guarantee could we have that you would ever return? And we would have lost this excellent chance to spy on Lansky. Incidentally, for your sake it might be best if you didn’t report our conversation to your new employer. With this man, people whose loyalties are in any way questionable have a dreadful habit of disappearing. Señor Waxman, for example. Almost certainly Lansky had this man killed. It would be no different for you, I think. He is the kind of man for whom the saying ‘Better safe than sorry’ is a way of life. And who can blame him for being so cautious? After all, he has millions invested in Havana. And it’s certain he won’t allow anything to get in the way of that. Not you. Not me. Not even the president himself. All he wants to do is keep on making money, and it makes little or no difference to him and his friends if he does it under one regime or another.”