Gavin Lyall - The Conduct of Major Maxim

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Reviewed by Hilary Williamson
I've enjoyed all of Gavin Lyall's standalone thrillers – stories like Midnight Plus One, The Most Dangerous Game, and The Wrong Side of the Sky – but especially like his Major Maxim series. Ex-SAS Harry Maxim, the very model of a modern military gentleman, is straight as an arrow, which does not serve him well when involved with politicians and spies – which he is all too often. He gets into very serious trouble in every episode, but somehow always comes through with his integrity intact.
Harry's wife Jenny died in a bombed plane and his parents help him raise his son Chris – he's continually guilt-ridden when his job prevents him from spending time with his son. At this point in the series, Harry Maxim is seconded to 10 Downing Street, working for the lazy but very wily George Harbinger, and often in liaison (and in conflict) with the devious, somewhat amoral, Security Service agent Agnes Algar – of course, their prickly relationship slowly and steadily develops into something stronger, to the initial dismay of both parties.
This story starts with analysts monitoring East German news and speculating about a rising political star named Gustav Eismark. We see an old woman, a talented but damaged musician, who lives in the country and teaches piano. Then Harry meets an old army friend who asks for his help for a deserter, Ron Blagg, who got involved in a special op on the request of a woman, Mrs. Howard, he believed was a British agent. Two people died in Germany, Blagg fled, and now he wants in from the cold. Harry tries to help him. Agnes is called to a high level meeting 'To consider the conduct of Major H. R. Maxim'. His digging into Blagg's story has 'started a constitutional crisis'.
The plot quickly thickens, and the search is on for information obtained by the now dead Mrs. Howard. Harry heads to Germany, and then works under the radar, helped by Agnes. When Harry tells Agnes the secret that Eismark had been trying so hard to hide, she replies 'God Almighty' to which his answer is, 'He's seen worse in His time.' If you haven't met Major Maxim yet, then you really should start reading this thrilling military/spy series.

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"Just him by himself?"

She went straight on past the question "There is a bigcaféthat is part of the Park Hotel, some of it inside, some outside. I will sit down there at ten, outside if it is warm enough, if there are others. He will come past, make sure that I see him, then I follow him. I think he will be alone; I do not know who he could get to come with him, but… that is what I want you to worry about. To watch me, not him The man himself does not worry me "

Perhaps he should have asked why, then, but instead he picked on a more obvious problem. "He could take you to a car."

"I will not get in."

"D'you think he'll be there before you'"

She flashed him a quick smile of professional camaraderie. "I think so So if you can go in first, you see him, then come out and…" politely she left the details of his work to him.

"It's a payoffjob?"

"We will both have newspapers. But he may need time to read mine." From that, Blagg assumed she would have a wadof money in the folds of her paper. Almost exactly the way it had been on the border The other border.

She said suddenly, but mostly to herself "He may not be ready to trust me…"

"If he's come across the border-"

"No, no, no He is not from there "

Then she shut up for the rest of the drive Bad Schwärzendem wassmall, elderly, rich, very clean, very quiet Mrs Howard gave him an idea of the place by driving slowly around the flat unfenced park that was the core of the whole town. Almost half a mile square, the trim grass was criss-crossed with wide paths and avenues of lime trees, brightly lit by modernistic street lamps. And running diagonally across the middle was the huge blackthorn hedge, foursquare and utterly meaningless. Just a wall half a kilometre long, running dead straight from nowhere to nowhere and reaching way up beyond the lamplight.

It might cure anything you could name, Blagg thought, but who in hell could have thought of building itmthe first place?

They parkedjust out of sight of the hotel, and he walked on ahead It was only half past nine on a mild early summer evening, but already most of the residents were in bed or immobilised by Fleischschnitte A few elderly couples doddered like moths around the blaze of light that was thecaféand a few more sat solidly at the tables, but it was a small crowd and Blagg felt obvious, apart from being generations too young. He went in through the hotel itself and came into thecaféfrom the back.

The man he was looking for was immediately obvious, crouched at a back table beside a large potted plant, complete with a folded newspaper, gold glasses and a bad case of nerves. He looked so obvious that Blagg spent the next twenty minutes covertly watching for a second man, but couldn't identify one At ten to ten he walked out towards the park and kept strolling around-a moving man is less suspicious than one standing still – then bought an ice cream from a stall A strolling, eating man is positively innocent.

He saw Mrs Howard go in; five minutes later, the fat mancarneout, walking awkwardly because he wasn't sure at what pace to go. Mrs Howard followed, moving easily, glancing naturally up to check the weather, then down at her wnst-vvatch. They went on past the ornamental fountain and the rows of plastic chairs in front of the bandstand and on down the far side of the wall.

The path was well lit and as straight as the wall. Blagg gave Mrs Howard fifty yards, then followed on the grass, keeping the row of lime trees between himself and the fat man. It couldn't have worked if the Burger of seventy years before hadn't planted with eyes like rulers; as it was, he could make each tree overlap the next to give himself a reasonable amount of cover. And any second man could be no closer.

They moved like that for nearly a quarter of a mile, passing nobody andm silenceenough for him to hear the clicking of Mrs Howard's high heels. The cold moist air drifted out of the wall at him, an unnatural feeling on that gentle evening.

Then, leaning in for a snatched glance at the fat man, he saw it and wished to hell he'd seen it on their drive around the park Halfway along the wall a tunnel led through it from side to side, framed by a heavy wooden arch. If anybody was waiting, it had to be there.

He dropped the last oozy remains of the ice cream and hurried forward, abandoning caution (a running man is always suspicious). He had gained only fifteen yards when he heard Mrs Howard's footsteps hesitate and knew the fat man had turned into the tunnel. But then she walked calmly on. He moved cautiously again – the man was probably looking back from the archway – and took out the gun. She stopped again, he heard a mutter of voices, and then her steps faded in the archway.

He had made only a few more yards when a small pistol wentsmack, echoing out of the tunnel He ran. Another gun fired, then the small one again, and Mrs Howard staggered back out of the archway and sat down heavily, losing her newspaper but keeping the gun. The fat man wobbled out after her and both shot each other from a few feet apart Blagg snapped his wrist against a tree-trunk for steadiness and started shooting from thirty yards range. The third shothit the fat man's head and pieces burst off it, like flower petals. The body flopped and tumbled into the trough of water that drained from the wall. Mrs Howard wriggled and moaned a little and lay still.

Suddenly it was all very different from the two eveningsm Armagh, and Blagg began to feel very lonely.

"I didn't know she'd got a gun," he finished. "I mean – that was why I was there. She should have letme decide." He sounded professionally affronted.

"You're sure they were both dead?" Maxim asked.

"Yes. I know."

"Why didn't you go to your own platoon commander?"

Blagg gave him a brief and almost sneering look, then shrugged. "He wouldn't have understood, like. He's a nice boy, but…"

"Your company commander, then7"

"Yes, but. I mean, I haven't been back there long and none of them was ever in Sass…"

Certainly some things the SASdid routinely would surprise a normal regimental officer. Or, as the regimental officer might put it, nothing the SASdid wouldever surprise him. Caswell had finished the rifles and half leant, half sat on the bench, a new cigarette smouldering in his fist. He watched Blagg and nodded occasionally.

"Did you jump off right away?" Maxim asked.

"Well, I sort of… First I just took the car. Got the keys out of her bag. I mean, nobody would know about the car. "

"You didn't have to stop and fill it up?"

"No, sir But there was a five-litre can in the boot; I put that in, just for safety, like. I just drove around, thinking. In the morning I got on a train at Dortmund for Ostend and got on a ferry."

"What were you using for money?"

"Well, I had a bit, of course…" Blagg looked at the floor.

It was perfectly clear what he'd used for money. In a way, Maxim was pleased that he'd been cool-headed enough to think of it. Still…

"How much was there?"

Blagg cleared his throat "3,750Deutschmarks I don't know why it was that, seems a funny sort of amount, really…"

Maxim guessed it was the result of bargaining: the German had wanted 5,000, Mrs Howard had offered half…

Caswell had been doing a little currency conversionmhis head and was looking slightly shocked. He obviously hadn't heard any figure mentioned before.

"Well, don't chuck it around," Maxim said. "A lot more people'll believe you if you handm abig wad of ready cash And what happened to the gun?"

"In the river."

"And her luggage?"

"Same place. I went through it – it was only a bag – and she didn't have anything special, like passports or things. Just ordinary."

"You've been back here over a week…

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