Nicholas Searle - The Good Liar

What I’m suggesting is in all of our interests. I presume I can skip the preamble about understanding between nations. You have

access to information that would be of value to my comrades and

me. To assist us would assure your future position in the scheme of things. And we will pay you. Very well. Even a socialist state can pay well. From each according to his ability, to each according to his

need. And I can see your need may be very great indeed.’ He

smirked.

‘Absolutely not. I’m going to report this to Lord Stanbrook.’

‘Feel free. But I believe you won’t. You’ll think first. You’ll consider the consequences, and the benefits you’d be forgoing. This is good. There’s time for you to do this.’

I don’t need time,’ said Roy quietly. ‘I’m a loyal British citizen. I want nothing to do with this, or with you.’

‘Of course. A good speech. That’s your right. It’s a natural imme-

diate response. But give it some thought. We’ll see each other again no doubt.’ Smiling, Maier stood and bowed almost imperceptibly, in

an oddly military manner. ‘Until then.’

131

1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 131

05/05/15 5:32 PM

6

It was the following Tuesday, sooner than he had imagined, that

Roy’s path again crossed that of Ernst Maier.

He had returned to town with Lord Stanbrook the previous day.

Walking through St James’s Park, he spotted them, leaning casually

against the railings, looking at him and smiling. They raised their hats and he attempted to pretend he had not noticed them. In his

peripheral vision he saw them move quickly, as if to intercept him

at the next junction of paths. He turned around and marched back

the way he had come, to return to the club.

They caught up with him, slightly out of breath, still smiling.

Maier wore the same cheap shiny suit that hung from his shoulders.

Roy recognized the other man, though he had not seen him in over

ten years. Then, in Berlin, he had been one of the Russian liaison

officers, a captain, Roy recalled. Karovsky.

Roy had little choice but to stop.

‘Did you forget something?’ asked Maier.

‘Sorry?’ said Roy.

‘I asked whether you’d forgotten something. You turned around

as if something had just occurred to you.’

His companion grinned at him, as if he had just told a priceless joke.

‘No. I mean . . . Why are you following me?’

‘We’re not.’ Maier affected an expression of wounded innocence.

‘Yuri and I were taking the air in your beautiful park. You happened to pass by. You do remember Yuri Ivanovich, don’t you?’

The other man spoke before Roy had a chance to respond. ‘Cap-

tain Courtnay, is it not?’ He paused and gave a bright, tinkling laugh.

Something was greatly amusing him. ‘We were both in Berlin at the

same time. Don’t you recall?’

Roy adopted a pleasant expression. ‘Why yes, of course. Differ-

ent context. No uniform.’ He extended his hand and Karovsky

shook it warmly. ‘Do you live in London now?’

‘No, just visiting,’ said Karovsky. ‘I often think back to those days after the war. We were all caught up in history, were we not?’

132

1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 132

05/05/15 5:32 PM

His English had improved. Or perhaps it had always been this

good. Roy could recall a truculent officer who had insisted on laborious translations by his interpreter.

‘I suppose so,’ said Roy. ‘Heady days. Though I didn’t think of

them like that then. Things happened so quickly. What brings you

to London?’

‘Oh, this and that,’ said Karovsky vaguely, smiling. ‘I often think of your German interpreter and what happened to him. Dreadful

story. What was his name?’

‘Yes. Hans Taub. Dreadful.’

‘Have I ever told you about it, Ernst?’ said Karovsky, turning to

Maier. Maier nodded but Karovsky clearly needed to stick to his

script. ‘An awful affair. Our friend here and his colleague were going to arrest some minor Nazi. In our zone. I sent a team to support

them but it all went wrong. Poor . . . Hans, you say? Hans ended up dead in the firefight that erupted. We all saw our share of deaths in the war. But the war was over. Tragic. Just some crazy fascist.’ He shook his head and looked directly at Roy. ‘You’ve changed, Captain Courtnay,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure exactly how, but you’ve changed. I believe Ernst had a quiet chat with you at the weekend. You were

unconvinced. I trust you’ve not told anyone else about it?’

Roy said nothing.

‘I thought not. Then perhaps we can discuss the idea further. We

can offer you whatever assurances you require . . .’

‘I’m not interested,’ said Roy. ‘I’ve told you once.’ He began to

walk away.

Karovsky spoke more loudly. ‘We can offer you all the necessary

reassurances about your safety, and I think you understand what I

mean. Whereas if you choose not to speak to us those assurances

are, what do you say, off the table.’

Roy turned and walked up to Karovsky, red in the face, clenching

his fists by his side. ‘Did you hear me? I don’t need your reassur-

ances. I shall be reporting this to the police.’

A smartly dressed woman in a red dress looked at them and hur-

ried on. Karovsky’s face as he rolled back on to his heels retained its equable smile but Roy could see unease in his eyes.

133

1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 133

05/05/15 5:32 PM

‘Come now,’ said Maier, the peacemaker. He put his hand on

Roy’s arm. Roy looked at it for a moment before Maier pulled it

away. They must know that Roy could swat them like flies if he

wished.

Karovsky had regained some of his composure. ‘Be reasonable,

please, Captain Courtnay. We’re in the centre of civilization, in

St James’s Park. I’m a senior Russian diplomat and it would be

unfortunate if the police had to deal with an assault by a member of Lord Stanbrook’s staff on one such as me. Unfortunate for you, I

mean. All kinds of misunderstandings could arise.’

Roy calmed, realizing his arms were half raised, ready to grab the

Russian by the lapels.

‘That’s better,’ said Karovsky. ‘All I want to do is to chat. I have some pictures from Berlin that you might like to look at. Why don’t we meet for dinner one evening this week? Then we can sort it all

out over a glass of wine and a good feed. I can assure you it is very much in your interest, Captain Courtnay.’

‘I’m not interested, I keep telling you.’

‘I heard you. But I must insist that if you’re looking to what’s best for you, you should come along. Listen, rather than detaining you here, I have a table booked at Galbraith’s fish restaurant tomorrow evening.

You do especially like fish, don’t you? Or was that your friend Hans? I can’t remember. I always got you confused. It was all so long ago and memory fades. The table’s booked for seven. I’ll see you there.’

In unison, the two men began walking briskly towards the near-

est exit, turning their heads to smile at each other as if sharing a joke. Roy stood for a moment before striding off in the opposite

direction. He had completely forgotten where he had been going.

He turned and headed back towards the club.

7

He did not go to Galbraith’s. He heard no more from Maier or

Karovsky. The sky did not fall in. Not immediately, that is.

Two days after the confrontation, Roy was reading the news-

134

1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 134