‘Scaffold,’ said Turner.
The crowd from the lobby swept them outwards into the fresh air.
‘Scaffold! An absolute secret, Bradfield! For your own information!’ They heard him cry, ‘You must not quote me, for God’s sake. Siebkron would be fantastically angry!’
‘Rest assured, Karl-Heinz,’ the even voice replied, absurdly formal in the turmoil, ‘your confidence will be respected.’
‘Old boy,’ Allerton put his head close to Turner’s ear. He had not shaved, the black locks were tipped with sweat. ‘What’s happened to Leo these days? Seems to have faded all away. They say old Eich was quite a swinger in her day… used to work with the scalphunters up in Hamburg. What have they done to your face, old boy? Close her legs too soon, did she?’
‘There’s no story,’ Bradfield said.
‘Not yet there isn’t,’ said Allerton, ‘old boy.’
‘There never will be.’
‘They say he bloody nearly got him in Bonn the night before the Hanover rally. Just wasn’t quite sure enough of his man. Karfeld was walking away from a secret conference; walking to the pick-up point and Leo damn nearly got him then. Siebkron’s chicks turned up just in time.’
Along the embankment the motionless columns waited in patient echelons. Their black flags barely lifted in the poor breeze. Across the river, behind a line of blue trees, distant factory chimneys puffed their smoke lazily into the drab morning light. Small boats, dabs of brilliance, lay marooned on the grey grass bank. To Turner’s left stood an old boathouse which no one had yet pulled down. A notice on it proclaimed it the property of the Institute of Physical Exercise of the University of Bonn.
They stood on the bank, side by side. The palest mist, like breath upon a glass, drew in the brown horizons and filled the near bridge. There were no sounds but the echoes of absent things, the cry of lost gulls and the moan of the lost barges, the inevitable whine of unseen drills. There were no people but the grey shadows along the waterfront and the unrelated tread of feet; it was not raining, but sometimes they felt the moisture in the mist, like the prickling of blood upon a heated skin. There were no ships, but funeral hulks drifting towards the Gods of the North; and there was no smell but the inland smell of coal and industries which were not present.
‘Karfeld is hidden until tonight,’ Bradfield said. ‘Siebkron has seen to that. They’ll expect him to try again this evening. And he will.’ He went over it again, rehearsing it as if it were a formula.
‘Until the demonstration, Karfeld is hidden. After the demonstration, Karfeld will again be hidden. Harting’s own resources are severely limited; he cannot reckon to be at large much longer. He will try tonight.’
‘Aickman’s dead,’ said Turner. ‘They killed her.’
‘Yes. He will want to try tonight.’
‘Make Siebkron cancel the rally.’
‘If it were in my power I would. If it were in Siebkron’s power, he would.’ He indicated the columns. ‘It’s too late.’
Turner stared at him.
‘No, I cannot see Karfeld cancelling the rally, however frightened he is,’ Bradfield continued, as if a moment’s doubt had crossed his mind. ‘The rally is the culmination of his campaign in the provinces. He has organised it to coincide with the most critical moment in Brussels. He is already halfway to success.’
He turned and walked slowly along the footpath towards the car park. The grey columns watched him silently.
‘Go back to the Embassy. Take a taxi. From now on there’s to be a total ban on movement. No one is to leave the Embassy perimeter on pain of dismissal. Tell de Lisle. And tell him what has happened and put aside the Karfeld papers for my return. Anything that incriminates him: the investigation report, the thesis… anything from the Glory Hole that tells the tale. I shall be back by early afternoon.’
He opened the car door.
‘What’s the bargain with Siebkron?’ Turner said. ‘What’s the small print?’
‘There is no bargain. Either they destroy Harting, or he will destroy Karfeld. In either case I have to disown him. That is the only thing that matters. Is there something you would prefer me to do? Do you see a way out? I shall inform Siebkron that order must be restored. I shall give him my oath that we had no part in Harting’s work, and no knowledge of it. Can you suggest an alternative solution? I would be grateful.’