The Rocket Man (6 page)

‘I don't know who. You know as well as I do – he could have discovered something wrong in Brazil.'

Katie put her arm around her. ‘Liese, that doesn't make sense. Bob told me they have been into everything. He organised that inspection, he said everything was in order.'

‘Yes, but they might not know. Why should they know? Anyway, they won't let me talk to anyone. I asked if I could talk to the people who were there on the inspection and they said no. There was an Argentine, he's left the IAEA, Cruz, I think. And a Russian, Dmitry Gavrilov. Why won't they let me see them?'

This unexpected mention of Gavrilov's name affected Katie so profoundly that she actually started. She had been trying not to think about him, determined that things should go no further. Lieselotte was immersed in her own thoughts and noticed nothing. Katie said, trying to concentrate on the moment at hand, ‘Perhaps if you wrote again they would let you. If it made you feel better…'

‘I don't want to see them to feel better. I shall never feel better. I want to find out the truth.'

‘Liese,' Katie took her hand; this was hard to say. ‘Liese, if there were something wrong, they wouldn't have to go round killing people to keep things quiet. Half these countries are running rings around the IAEA all the time, you know that. ‘

‘I don't know it.'

‘Well, you have to be more cynical.'

‘You're telling me Hans' job was worthless.' Lieselotte was angry with her now; she stared at her fiercely.

‘No, I'm not saying that, Liese. I'm sure he believed in what he was doing, just as Bob does. It's just that there are flaws in the system, that's all – and they don't have to kill people to cover it up.'

Lieselotte stood up and walked to the window. In the next room the baby started crying. She turned and ran in to him, and Katie could hear her voice, talking to the baby, in the same sweet, crooning voice that any other mother would. She came back, the baby held against her shoulder, nuzzling his warm head. She stood in the doorway and for a moment her face was tranquil, almost happy. Then the pain flooded back, and she began to cry again. ‘Thank God I have my baby,' she sobbed, holding him tightly. ‘If I didn't have him, I think I would die.'

Katie was sure Bob hadn't noticed anything was wrong with her. Well, why should he? Although inwardly she felt as if something had changed, that she was not the same person as before, she was sure there had been nothing obviously different about her or her behaviour which would have led him to think that she had been unfaithful. What she had done was completely out of character, and this made her wonder if she really knew herself, and worse, whether Bob knew her at all. The fact that he'd noticed nothing irritated her, as if she felt he ought to have been able to look inside her and see that she was in inner chaos.

The worst thing was that she couldn't stop thinking about it. She kept seeing his room, the pale sunlight dappling the bed and falling on his white skin, remembering the way he had touched her. And yet, he hadn't rung her. What had come over her? Supposing he didn't feel anything special for her, had just been desperate to go to bed with someone? The very idea made her feel humiliated. But no, surely that couldn't be. No-one could behave like that unless they felt something; and besides, he knew that she was married. Perhaps he thought it was best for her to make the next move.

As a result of this one brief hour, an hour which might not in the end have any significance, everything seemed to be suffering. She had some translating work to do, and she was now behind with it. In the morning when Anna went to kindergarten she had intended to sit down and get on with it, but she was too agitated to concentrate. She hadn't slept well, and she found herself being short and bad-tempered with Anna. That was the worst thing of all; how could she have behaved like this, risking her marriage, when she had a child?

But now, as she cleared the table after supper, she couldn't help notice Bob's eyes were on her. He came into the kitchen as she was making coffee and put his arms around her.

‘Honey,' he said, ‘I've been wondering, you never say, about having another baby… Are you depressed about it?'

His words broke unexpectedly into Katie's thoughts. Nothing had been further from her mind. Bob was very keen that she should have another baby; he didn't want Anna to be an only child. Two years ago, Katie had got pregnant for the second time, but had miscarried at twelve weeks, and since then had not conceived. Well, it was difficult, with Bob away so much, as she usually didn't hesitate to point out to him. Bob was much keener than she was to have another child. Katie remembered only too well the depression she'd suffered after Anna's birth, the loneliness of looking after the baby on her own, and she didn't know that she wanted to repeat the experience. Despite this, the loss of the second baby had been deeply upsetting.

‘I don't know. Bob. I'm really not sure I want another baby.'

Bob took the tin of coffee out of her hand. ‘Katie, forget the coffee. Come to bed.'

‘I don't want to go to bed. Bob, I wanted to talk to you about Lieselotte. She's a bit unstable, I think that's understandable, but now she has this weird idea – she thinks that somebody might have killed Hans.'

Bob sighed and let go of her. He picked up the coffee tin and began measuring spoonfuls into the filter.

‘But we've been into that. The DG actually had a whole session with her explaining what had been done and how carefully we had looked into this…'

‘She said she wanted to talk to the other people who'd been on that trip and that she wasn't given permission.'

‘No, well, that wouldn't be right.'

‘Why?'

‘Because it would put them in a very awkward position, they are not allowed to give out any information to anyone, that's a condition of their being allowed to carry out inspections. Besides, it wouldn't tell her anything. No, Kaisler is completely right there.' Bob turned to Katie. ‘Look, is Liese getting any help? Is she seeing a therapist or something?'

‘Her doctor's put her in touch with someone.'

‘Good.' Once again, he put his arms around her, began kissing her; this time she couldn't resist. They made love quickly and without ceremony and then Bob went instantly to sleep. Going to bed with him this time felt strange; instinctively she shrank from it. When she had gone to bed with Dmitry she had felt she was betraying Bob; but in going to bed with Bob she felt even more strongly that she was betraying Dmitry.

The phone rang. Startled, Katie looked up from the German-English dictionary and picked up the receiver.

‘I want to see you.'

It was Dmitry. The deep voice and the liquid Russian vowels were unmistakable.

Katie hesitated for a moment. ‘I don't think that's a good idea.'

‘We could meet in town, if you like, at the Café Central. I just want to talk to you.'

She said, without thinking, the first thing that came into her head: ‘Lieselotte wants to see you. Can I bring her along too?'

He was silent for a few moments, as if trying to think through all the implications. Then he said, ‘Yes. Yes, of course.'

‘On Wednesday morning?'

‘Yes, that's fine. What time? ‘

‘Eleven o'clock – I'll see you then.' She hung up. So he had rung her, finally; she felt relief and agitation. She looked across the room to where Anna was playing with her doll on the carpet, talking to herself, and she realised that her heart was thumping in her chest so loudly she was surprised Anna didn't notice. What was she doing, seeing this man? What good could come out of it? Anna looked up at her and smiled, and Katie smiled back, a false, deceitful smile, because she was not thinking of Anna or her best interests, she was thinking of herself.

Lieselotte had made herself up for the occasion. The bright lipstick and darkened eyes emphasised the paleness of her fragile face, making her look like a china doll. Her hand trembled slightly as she lifted the cup of coffee to her lips. Katie realised at once that she was necessary in this meeting as an interpreter. Neither Gavrilov's German nor Lieselotte's English were up to a difficult conversation.

Lieselotte had been grateful to Katie for arranging the meeting and hadn't thought to ask how this had come about. Katie had made a point of telling her that Bob would disapprove and that it would be better if she didn't tell him. Now, sitting here, she felt she was deceiving him on two fronts.

Lieselotte came straight to the point. ‘I know you went to Brazil with him on this last trip. You stayed with him, didn't you, in the same hotels? Surely you men talk about these things. There wasn't anything that went wrong, was there? He didn't make a mistake? There wasn't another woman or anything was there? Nothing that could have made him do something like this?'

‘He didn't tell me if there was. I'm sure there wasn't another woman… I don't think you need worry about that. He talked a lot about you and the baby. I know he felt badly about leaving you alone so much.'

‘And was there something else worrying him?'

‘Well, only a few things to do with work, I think, internal office politics, nothing else.' Dmitry looked uncomfortable; he said, ‘This must be very distressing for you. I – ‘

Lieselotte seemed to understand without Katie's intervention. She cut in quickly, still in German. ‘No, no, what's distressing for me is not to talk about it. I think about it all the time, it goes round and round in my head, it's a relief sometimes to be able to talk about it. But it's no use, is it? I don't suppose we shall ever know. The police are not interested in taking it any further. I thought of hiring a private detective, but what would be the point? He would not have access to the IAEA.'

Gavrilov said, ‘If he did it wouldn't help him. I can assure you that they have been through everything, all the papers, reports, they've checked very thoroughly. I have been to the meetings and it's all been taken very seriously.'

‘This is what Kaisler told me. But it's not enough. I tried to explain to the police, but they didn't listen. There is something wrong with the letter. It's not something I can explain, but it isn't right.'

‘Do you have the letter?'

Lieselotte reached over with her uncertain fingers and looked in her bag. She took out the letter, still folded in a plastic bag like a piece of police evidence. She pushed it over to him. ‘Can you understand it?'

Katie smoothed it out on the marble table top and read it out to him. He looked at it as she read, their heads close together. Once again she felt the thrill of his touch.

Dmitry asked, ‘What isn't right about it?'

‘I said to the police, this is not the way he would have written. Could somebody have dictated it? I don't know. And why did he spell the lawyer's name wrong? He knew this lawyer well, I can't see him making a mistake… I asked myself, could it be some clue? I couldn't see it, the police couldn't see it. But what haunts me is, how can you force somebody to write a suicide note? If you know you are going to be killed anyway, why should you make it easier for them? Why write the note, why swallow the pills? What do they threaten you with? I wouldn't write such a note. What would I have to gain if they were going to kill me anyway?'