A Very British Ending (Catesby Series) (23 page)

‘In any case, Fournier decided to let you have the PAPERCLIP war criminal after all.’

‘Why?’

‘For two reasons. Fournier was disillusioned with the PAPERCLIP op and thought the war criminal deserved it. But less idealistically, Fournier wanted to get back at you. He thought you had burgled his flat – but couldn’t be sure. In retrospect,’ smiled Bone, ‘he thinks you’re innocent.’

‘I am. I paid a
Putzfrau
to do it.’

‘Fournier says he now regrets doing it, but…’

‘But what?’

‘He passed on the details of you murdering the war criminal to his boss. Of course, Fournier sanitised his version of the story so that he had nothing at all to do with you getting hold of the PAPERCLIP German.’

Catesby smiled. ‘Typically Kit.’

‘Fournier told his boss that your murder of the German could be used as a blackmail lever against you at sometime in the future.’ Bone paused and looked hard at Catesby. ‘What I can’t understand is why Fournier would concoct such an absurd story. What does he have to gain by telling lies in his situation?’

Catesby looked down the river.

‘Is he lying, William?’

Catesby shook his head.

‘Why did you do it?’

‘I wanted to put the ghosts of Oradour-sur-Glane to rest.’

‘Did it work?’

‘No.’

‘There is, William, one disturbing new development.’

‘Go on.’

‘JJ knows about it. Not all of his new friends are as mad and right-wing as he is. One of them, whom I know slightly – from rowing actually – says that JJ refers to you as “Killer Catesby”. JJ is passing around a rumour that you killed the PAPERCLIP Nazi because he had information linking you – and myself – to Maclean and Burgess. Apparently, we’re part of the same ring.’

‘And Harold Wilson?’

‘Of course, and one prominent Tory politician is also on the list. JJ hates Edward Heath.’

‘I think we know why.’

‘It’s madness, William – almost a form of rabies.’

‘How do you suppose JJ found out?’

‘I’m sure that FURIOSO has Fournier’s file on the incident stowed away in his safe. He might have leaked it to DOGGED who passed it on to JJ. FURIOSO’s grand plan is to turn Five into the CIA’s London branch and to do away with us altogether.’

‘By the way, Henry, there is no evidence linking me to the murder. The forensic files are now at the bottom of the River
Weser. I blackmailed the
Kriminalpolizist
in charge of the case to deep-six them. He was involved in the black market and also lied about his Nazi past on his denazification questionnaire.’ Catesby gave a bleak smile. ‘Maybe I should have shot him too.’

‘You still might have to –
oh what a web we weave
.’

‘So where do we go from here?’

‘We make our enemies look like completely mad idiots.’

‘Even when they’re not?’

Bone smiled. ‘Especially when they’re not.’

Leconfield House, London:
July, 1963

The meeting was over and Hollis and Bone were the only ones left in the conference room at the Security Service HQ. Roger Hollis had been head of the service since 1956 and was feeling battered. Bone had been at the meeting to deputise for the head of SIS – so it wasn’t strange that the pair should have lingered behind for a chat. And yet, there had been a few knowing glances exchanged as the others filed out of the room.

‘He’s costing us a lot of money,’ said Hollis rubbing his eyes, ‘ten thousand pounds into his Swiss bank account every month he’s in England – and taking up our best safe house. They say if you pay peanuts you get monkeys; well we’re paying gold bullion and getting nothing but unsubstantiated rumours.’

The purpose of the meeting had been to give EMPUSA a stage from which to address the heads of SIS and MI5 as well as members of JIC and the Privy Council.

‘And,’ said Hollis, ‘I’m sure you’ve heard that he also wants to interview the Prime Minister and the cabinet – all of them.’

‘And the Queen.’

‘He couldn’t understand why she wasn’t here.’ Hollis looked at his notes. ‘If I may, Henry, let me summarise EMPUSA’s version of Moscow Central’s cunning plan for taking over the United Kingdom. Please let me know if I leave anything out.’

‘Of course, Roger.’

‘Stage one was the assassination of Hugh Gaitskell, a friend of Washington and an enemy of the undercover Communists
posing as members of the Labour Party. Thank you, by the way, for sending me Catesby’s report on systemic lupus erythematosus. How revealing that it isn’t a rare disease and not one that would generate concern as a cause of death. But, Henry, I’ve gone one up on you. I’ve now obtained a copy of Gaitskell’s post-mortem – and no lupus cells were found in his body. He died of a condition called ‘immune complex deficiency’ – an even more common condition, but one that resembles lupus.’ Hollis smiled. ‘But before I had the autopsy report, I contacted an imminent virus specialist who said it was completely impossible to devise a lupus poison pill or spray.’ Hollis paused. ‘Are you still with me?’

Bone nodded.

‘So let me summarise EMPUSA’s allegation. The KGB bumped off Gaitskell using a pill that is impossible to fabricate in order to induce a rare disease – which isn’t rare in any case – and a disease which, it turns out, Gaitskell didn’t have in the first place.’

‘I couldn’t put it better myself.’

‘I bet you could, Henry. But where are we now?’

‘With Harold Wilson.’

‘Now that Gaitskell is out of the way, the KGB had to manoeuvre their long-term sleeper-agent into becoming leader of the Labour Party. Not easy, because the person most likely to succeed Gaitskell was the deputy leader George Brown, a right-winger and fervent anti-Communist. I am sure you noticed that EMPUSA didn’t explain how the KGB got James Callaghan to stand in the first round and split the Gaitskellite vote.’

‘But he did say there was widespread concern among Labour MPs about Brown’s drinking.’

‘Fair enough. But the KGB still have to get Wilson into 10 Downing Street – and this is where it gets dirty.’ Hollis paused and stared at Bone. ‘And affects me personally. What do you know, Henry?’

‘I know that you’re being blamed for warning Kim that it was time to do a fade. But I’m being blamed for that too – and so is most of SIS.’

Hollis laughed. ‘It’s almost as if we were part of a pantomime audience:
They’re behind you, Kim!
’

Bone smiled bleakly. There might be some truth in Hollis’s words.

‘Did you know,’ said Hollis, ‘that my own staff have put me under surveillance?’

‘I have heard rumours.’

‘And I can’t do anything about it, because if I ordered the surveillance to be stopped, it would prove that I had something to hide, that I was a Sov agent.’

Bone gave a sympathetic smile. As far as he knew, Hollis had nothing to hide, other than the fact that he was having a long-term affair with his secretary. If, thought Bone, Hollis had a fault, it was not being ruthless enough.

Hollis seemed to have read Bone’s thoughts. ‘I have one officer in particular, and a few others, who ought to be disciplined – or even dismissed. But once again, if I do so, it will cast suspicion on me, that I got rid of them to protect myself.’ Hollis smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry, Henry, I digress. The next stage in Moscow’s grand plan is…?

‘Profumo.’

‘Totally agree. EMPUSA maintains that the KGB is choreographing the so-called Profumo scandal in order to discredit the Conservatives and get Labour elected next year. The Ivanov angle suggests that Tory ministers cannot be trusted with government secrets because they will pass the secrets on to their girlfriends who will then share them with their Russian boyfriends. How utterly absurd.’ Hollis paused. ‘And now I’m being accused of not having warned Profumo.’

‘A bit unfair.’

‘They’re out to get me, Henry. I’m going to retire as soon as I get to sixty – I’ve had enough. And, by the way, Macmillan has had enough too – the Profumo affair has worn him out. He’s going to step down in the autumn.’ Hollis smiled. ‘Macmillan was never a big fan of the intelligence services. He once told me that the government could save a lot of money by simply sending cabinet minutes and other secrets directly to Moscow and cutting out the middlemen.’

‘Dour.’

‘I suppose, Henry, that you are already aware that EMPUSA has a big supporter in FURIOSO. It was love at first sight and they are now walking hand in hand into a sunset of shared paranoia.’

‘And power.’

Hollis nodded and looked at his notes. ‘It’s easy to be Nostradamus when you’re vague. Here’s what EMPUSA predicted when he first defected:
An unknown political leader in an unknown country will be assassinated by the KGB.
’

Rock Spring, Arlington, Virginia:
22 November 1963

It was a large detached house with a huge garden. The people who lived in the neighbourhood were the Washington elite: high-ranking government officials, members of Congress, lobbyists, consultants and the press corps. Despite the news, it was still a beautiful late autumn day and the air smelt of bonfire smoke. Angleton was a keen gardener and had a greenhouse full of rare and prize orchids. Orchids were the undercover agents of the natural world disguising themselves as bees and other insects in order to honey-trap unwitting pollinators.

Most of the neighbours were glued to the rolling television news about Kennedy’s assassination, but James Angleton was tidying up his garden. It was unusual for him to be home so early and before dark. He often stayed at the office until 10 p.m. or later – and the couple living nearest him did think it odd that he would be home so early on such a traumatic day. ‘Perhaps,’ said the wife, ‘he just needs time to himself, to get away from it all. It’s so awful.’

Any other neighbour watching Angleton would assume he was burning leaves and cuttings. But, amid the garden detritus, there was also a top secret 201 file turning into ash and smoke. Angleton’s file on Lee Harvey Oswald was completely toxic and had to go.

London:
24 November 1963

It was only the second time Catesby had seen someone shot at close range – and the first time he hadn’t been the person pulling the trigger.

It was a Sunday and Catesby had gone to Frances’s flat for supper and to see the twins who were home from university. After supper, they turned on the television to see the news. As a family they didn’t normally watch television, but recent events had made viewing compelling. The world was still reeling from the Kennedy assassination and the news was full of it to the exclusion of almost everything else. Aldous Huxley, the author of
Brave New World
and a writer Catesby much admired for his pacifism and humanism, had also died on 22 November, but Huxley’s death had been scarcely reported. A lesson to be learned, thought Catesby. If you want a good obituary, don’t die on the same day that a glamorous American President gets his brains blown out.

As soon as the news came on, it was obvious that something dramatic had happened in Dallas. The presenter immediately introduced the television news clip of Jack Ruby shooting Lee Harvey Oswald as he was led through the basement of the Dallas Police Station. At first, Catesby couldn’t believe it was actual live footage. It looked as staged as a crime film: the shooter crouched and wearing a trilby and the person shot crumpling in pain. Catesby could almost hear Ruby shouting: ‘Take that, you bastard!’ – even though the words had never been uttered.

When the news was over and they turned the television off, the son spoke first, ‘Who do you think did it, Will?’

‘It wasn’t us,’ said Catesby. ‘But I don’t know about your mother’s gang. You’ll have to ask her.’

Frances shook her head. ‘Not us either.’

The children had reached an age when it was pointless to hide their professions from them. It was a myth that the close families of spies didn’t know what their jobs were. But it was important that families be discreet.

‘Didn’t you see what really happened?’ said the daughter.

‘Pray tell us,’ said her brother.

‘Oswald’s killing was faked. The bullet Ruby fired was a blank. It’s a conspiracy to spring Oswald out of custody and smuggle him to another country.’

Catesby was impressed. ‘Who ordered Kennedy’s assassination?’

The daughter sighed. ‘Lyndon Johnson, obviously. He’s now
President and it happened in Texas. Any fool can see that.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said the son. ‘Johnson arranging it would be
too
obvious.’

‘I don’t think you should be so light-hearted about it,’ said Frances. ‘It’s a great tragedy and could have an awful effect on our own country.’

‘Like what?’ said the daughter.

‘Like Britain being destroyed in a nuclear war,’ said Catesby. ‘If the Americans think that Moscow ordered the assassination it could lead to a nuclear exchange in which we get obliterated.’

‘As gloomy as that,’ said the son.

His sister looked at Frances and Catesby. ‘I’m surprised you two aren’t better informed.’

Catesby knew that the family banter was a form of whistling in the dark. The situation was serious and dangerous. His biggest fear was that the conspiratorial madness of America would leap across the Atlantic and infect Britain too.

Pimlico, London:
16 October 1964

Catesby had stayed up late listening to the election results, but fell asleep before the final results were in. When he woke up in the morning, the radio was still on and Harold Wilson was prime minister. He listened to the commentary as he brewed his tea and slipped two slices of Mother’s Pride under the gas grill.

Harold Wilson has led the Labour Party to a narrow election victory with a majority of four. Labour will replace the Tory government of Sir Alec Douglas-Home. The Conservative Party’s hold on power has now ended after thirteen years. During that time there were four different Tory leaders.

Catesby took a bottle of milk out of the fridge and sniffed it. It had gone off, but at least the Tories were out.

Sir Alec Douglas-Home served as prime minister for only one year following Harold Macmillan’s resignation owing to ill health. Macmillan’s government had been increasingly unpopular in mid-term following a series of scandals involving sex and spying. Douglas-Home had faced the difficult task of rebuilding his party’s