Malcolm Bradbury - Doctor Criminale

I looked up. ‘At Barolo ’?’ I asked, The great congress on Literature and Power in the Age of Glasnost?’ ‘Where we first met, you remember,’ said Cosima. ‘Of course I remember,’ I said, ‘But what had that got to do with it? Those people were writers, politicians.’ ‘Not all of them were what they seemed,’ said Cosima. ‘Oh, come on,’ I said, ‘Susan Sontag? Martin Amis? You’re not saying they were in on these fancy games?’ ‘No, we think those two were almost who they say they are,’ said Cosima, ‘It was the others you know very well.’ ‘What others?’ I asked. ‘You saw the Russians were there?’ ‘What, Tatyana Tulipova?’ I asked. ‘Did you ever see a word she wrote in her life?’ asked Cosima, ‘The Americans too. Those critics from Yale.’ ‘Please, Cosima,’ I said. ‘Professor Massimo Monza, he lives a little too nicely, don’t you think?’ ‘I don’t believe it,’ I said. ‘And of course your Otto Codicil. Oh, how is the lobster, by the way?’

The lobster? Oh, fine,’ I said, ‘Why do you ask?’ ‘Because I like you to enjoy it,’ said Cosima, ‘I wished to give you a nice reward.’ ‘Reward for what?’ I asked. ‘Because I discovered so much of this from you,’ said Cosima. ‘How could you?’ I asked, ‘I’m not a part of it, Cosima, really. I told you, I knew nothing at all. I thought Ildiko was a girl-friend, I thought Criminale was a philosopher. The whole thing is news to me. In fact I’m not sure I believe any of it.’ ‘Yet you did your work well,’ said Cosima. ‘What work?’ I asked, ‘What did I do that was worth the death of one poor old lobster?’ ‘You pointed out to us Professor Otto Codicil,’ said Cosima, The key of it all, the missing link of our chain. He was the mastermind, as you warned us. And once we had realized this, all the other things were clear.’

‘I hate to tell you this, Cosima,’ I said, though I didn’t hate it at all, ‘I think you’ve got the wrong man. I only fingered Codicil because he was trying to destroy my television programme. I know nothing about him, nothing at all. Except he eats too much cake and never sees his students. Apart from that he’s probably as white as the driven snow.’ ‘No, he is part of it,’ said Cosima. ‘I just hope you can prove that,’ I said, ‘Because that man is a friend of ministers. He has lawyers hanging off his shirt-tails. He’s a nasty enemy, believe me. He’ll have you fired or in jail, if you aren’t careful.’ Then you didn’t know?’ asked Cosima. ‘Didn’t know what?’ I asked. ‘Codicil tried to fled the coop,’ she said. ‘He tried to do what?’ I asked. ‘Flee the coop,’ said Cosima, They picked him up at Frankfurt airport as he tried to fly to South America.’

‘No, this is too much,’ I said, The rest is possible, this I don’t believe. Was he dressed in women’s clothes as well?’ ‘No, a red wig,’ said Cosima. ‘Otto Codicil in a red wig?’ I said, ‘Cosima, don’t you think a red wig is a bit over the top, as it were?’ ‘He had also a false passport,’ said Cosima, ‘And a false-bottom suitcase with two hundred thousand Deutschmark.’ ‘Please,’ I said. ‘Now he is held in Germany and he is singing like a canary,’ said Cosima, ‘He has told us nearly everything. He was recruited after the war, when Vienna was the runnel of East and West.’ ‘I always thought he was more the SS officer type,’ I said. ‘Earlier,’ said Cosima. ‘But you’re absolutely certain?’ The report was delivered in my office today,’ said Cosima, ‘Don’t you like to know why he was going to South America?’

The remains of the lobster were taken away. The second fine Sauvignon gave way to two pungent old Armagnacs. ‘I suppose he was going to join Martin Bormann and Ronald Biggs,’ I said, ‘And one day they’ll all come back as a football team and win the World Cup.’ ‘He was expected to collect the money from the Criminale accounts and take it to the right people,’ said Cosima, ‘However your Hungarian agent got a lot of it first.’ ‘Good for her,’ I said, and then a thought began to strike me, ‘Where in South America? Who was he taking them to?’ ‘I think you begin to understand,’ said Cosima. ‘Yes, well,’ I said, swirling my brandy thoughtfully, ‘I suppose it does cost a lot of money to run a big hacienda in Argentina. What with 130 per cent inflation and a very unreliable rate of exchange.’ ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Cosima Bruckner.

‘So,’ I said, ‘Codicil and Gertla, those two are old friends?’ ‘I thought this is what you came to Brussels to tell me,’ said Cosima, ‘Then perhaps we could slip the last piece into place.’ ‘No, that wasn’t why,’ I said, ‘It was something else, but you probably know it anyway.’ ‘Tell me, please,’ said Cosima, ‘I like to know everything.’ ‘I can see that,’ I said, ‘Gertla simply told me she got Bazlo working for the Hungarian secret police back in 1956. All the time he was travelling in the West he was reporting to her. She passed it on to the authorities. And if it got to the Hungarians it certainly must have reached the Russians.’ ‘Oh, that is all,’ said Cosima. ‘All?’ I said, ‘This a man who was seeing Reagan, Bush, Genscher, Thatcher, everyone. He must have had access to enormous information. If this got out it would destroy his entire reputation.’

‘Well, in this world there are few reputations you cannot destroy,’ said Cosima, ‘You know that very well, you are a journalist.’ ‘As a journalist, let me ask you, is it true? Can you confirm it? You know everything?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said Cosima, ‘But did you never ask why he was allowed so much to travel?’ ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘But surely not everyone who travelled worked for the regime.’ ‘They generally made their arrangements,’ said Cosima, ‘In that world to get one thing you gave another. That was understood, the regime used you, you used the regime. Everyone had a file. Go to Prague now and look. Doctors had code names, archbishops had official ranks in the secret police. If you managed these things cleverly, you could lead the charmed life. And I think Criminale always managed to lead the charmed life.’

‘A great philosopher,’ I said. ‘Even a great philosopher lives in history,’ said Cosima. ‘So what Gertla said was really true?’ I asked. ‘I cannot tell you, I only say it would not be surprising. But I think anyone in the West who was wise would know that.’ ‘You mean anyone except me,’ I said. ‘He could go where diplomats could not,’ said Cosima, ‘He could make deals and pass information both ways. I expect both sides used him. He was too big to waste on little things.’ ‘It would still destroy him,’ I said, ‘And why would Gertla want to? It damages her reputation too.’ ‘You don’t know?’ asked Cosima. ‘No, Cosima, I don’t know,’ I said, ‘I don’t know anything. Please enlighten me.’

‘It happened before, in Germany in 1945, in France after collaboration, in Hungary in 1956, in Russia always,’ said Cosima, ‘It happens now, it will happen again. The files that were shut come open, so everyone runs for cover. To protect themselves, they settle scores with others. Those old Party people are bitter these days. They were promised history for ever. They made their deals and bought their houses and now they feel cheated. But they mean to survive, to start again. They know the world cannot live without them. All they must do is show they know too much. For this they must sacrifice a few. Why not a famous man, up there on his pedestal? He has had his charmed life, they helped him make it. Well, it is not so hard for them to take it away again. He was no worse than others, maybe no better either. So do you think you will help them? Do you publish your article?’