A SMALL TOWN IN GERMANY by John le Carré

‘What do you mean, with it?’

‘Just holding it. Looking at the lock as far as I could make out. Just curious. He smiled when he saw me, cool as anything. He’s sharp, I’ve told you that. “Arthur,” he says, “you’ve caught me at it, you’ve discovered my guilty secret.” I said, “What the hell are you up to? Look what you’ve got there in your hands!” Like that. “You know me,” he says, very dis­arming. “I just can’t help it.” He puts down the box. “I was actually looking for some seven-o-sevens, you don’t happen to have seen them anywhere, do you? For March and February fifty-eight.” Something like that.’

‘So then what?’

‘I read him the Riot Act. What else could I do? I said I’d report him to Bradfield, the lot. I was furious.’

‘But you didn’t?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Meadowes said at last. ‘You think I’m soft in the head, I know. It was Myra’s birthday Friday; we were having a special do at the Exiles. Leo had choir practice and a dinner party.’

‘Dinner party? Where?’

‘He didn’t say.’

‘There’s nothing in his diary.’

‘That’s not my concern.’

‘Go on.’

‘He’d promised to drop in sometime during the evening and give her her present. It was going to be a hair-dryer; we’d chosen it together.’ He shook his head again. ‘How can I explain it? I’ve told you: I felt responsible for him. He was that kind of bloke. You and I could blow him over with one puff if we wanted.’

Turner gazed at him incredulously.

‘And I suppose there was something else too.’ He looked Turner full in the face. ‘If I tell Bradfield, that’s it. Leo’s had it. There’s nowhere for him to go, is there? See what I mean. Like now, for instance: I mean I hope he has gone to Moscow, because there’s nowhere else going to take him.’

‘You mean you suspected him?’

‘I suppose so, yes. Deep down I suppose I did. Warsaw’s done that for me, you know. I’d like Myra to have settled there. With her student. All right, they put him up to it; they made him seduce her. But he did say he’d marry her, didn’t he? For the baby. I’d have loved that baby more than I can say. That’s what you took away from me. From her as well. That’s what it was all about. You shouldn’t have done that, you know.’

He was grateful for the traffic then, for any noise to fill that damned tank and take away the accusing echo of Meadowes’ flat voice.

‘And on Thursday the box disappeared?’

Meadowes shrugged it away. ‘Private Office returned it Thursday midday. I signed it in myself and left it in the strong­room. Friday it wasn’t there. That was that.’

He paused.

‘I should have reported it at once. I should have gone run­ning to Bradfield Friday afternoon when I noticed. I didn’t. I slept on it. I brooded about it all Saturday. I chewed Cork’s head off, went for Johnny Slingo, made their lives hell. It was driving me mad. I didn’t want to raise a hare. We’d lost all manner of things in the crisis. People get light-fingered. Some­one’s pinched our trolley, I don’t know who: one of the Mili­tary Attachés’ clerks, that’s my guess. Someone else has lifted our swivel chair. There’s a long-carriage typewriter from the Pool; diaries, all sorts, cups from the Naafi even. Anyway, those were the excuses. I thought one of the users might have taken it: de Lisle, Private Office…’

‘Did you ask Leo?’

‘He’d gone by then, hadn’t he?’

Once more Turner had slipped into the routine of interro­gation.

‘He carried a briefcase, didn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was he allowed to bring it in here?’

‘He brought in sandwiches and a thermos.’

‘So he was allowed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did he have the briefcase Thursday?’

‘I think so. Yes, he would have done.’

‘Was it big enough to hold the despatch box?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did he have lunch in here Thursday?’

‘He went out at about twelve.’

‘And came back?’

‘I told you: Thursday’s his special day. Conference day. It’s a left-over from his old job. He goes to one of the Ministries in Bad Godesberg. Something to do with outstanding claims. Last Thursday he had a lunch date first I suppose. Then went on to the meeting.’

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