“Oh yes,” he said, as if he had forgotten something, “when you asked the grocer for credit, how much money had you?”
“Nothing,” said Leamas carelessly. “I’d been broke for a week. Longer, I should think.”
“What had you lived on?”
“Bits and pieces. I’d been ill–some fever. I’d hardly eaten anything for a week. I suppose that made me nervous too–tipped the scales.”
“You were, of course, still owed money at the library, weren’t you?”
“How did you know that?” asked Leamas sharply. “Have you been–”
“Why didn’t you go and collect it? Then you wouldn’t have had to ask for credit, would you, Leamas?”
He shrugged.
“I forget. Probably because the library was closed on Saturday mornings.”
“I see. Are you sure it was closed on Saturday mornings?”
“No. It’s just a guess.”
“Quite. Thank you, that is all I have to ask.”
Leamas was sitting down as the door opened and a woman came in. She was large and ugly, wearing a gray overall with chevrons on one sleeve. Behind her stood Liz.
* * 22 * The Presiaent
She entered the court slowly, looking around her, wide-eyed, like a half-awakened child entering a brightly lit room. Leamas had forgotten how young she was. When she saw him sitting between two guards, she stopped.
“Alec.”
The guard beside her put his hand on her arm and guided her forward to the spot where Leamas had stood. It was very quiet in the courtroom.
“What is your name, child?” thq President asked abruptly. Liz’s long hands hung at her sides, the fingers straight
“What is your name?” she repeated, loudly this time.
“Elizabeth Gold.”
“You are a member of the British Communist Party?”
“Yes.”
“And you have been staying in Leipzig?”
“Yes.”
“When did you join the Party?”
“Nineteen fifty-five. No–fifty-four, I think it was–”
She was interrupted by the sound of movement; the screech of furniture forced aside, and Leamas’ voice, hoarse, high-pitched, ugly, filling the room.
“You bastards! Leave her alone!”
Liz turned in terror and saw him standing, his white face bleeding and his clothes awry, saw a guard hit him with his fist, so that he half fell; then they were both upon him, had lifted him up, thrusting his arms high behind his back. His head fell forward on his chest, then jerked sideways in pain.
“If he moves again, take him out,” the President ordered, and she nodded to Leamas in warning, adding: “You can speak again later if you want. Wait.” Turning to Liz she said sharply, “Surely you know when you joined the Party?”
Liz said nothing, and after waiting a moment the President shrugged. Then leaning forward and staring at Liz intently she asked:
“Elizabeth, have you ever been told in your Party about the need for secrecy?”
Liz nodded.
“And you have been told never, never to ask questions of another Comrade on the organization dispositions of the Party?”
Liz nodded again. “Yes,” she said, “of course.”
“Today you will be severely tested in that rule. It is better for you, far better, that you should know nothing. Nothing,” she added, with sudden emphasis. “Let this be enough: we three at this table hold very high rank in the Party. We are acting with the knowledge of our Praesidium, in the interests of Party security. We have to ask you some questions, and your answers are of the greatest importance. By replying truthfully and bravely you wifi help the cause of socialism.”
“But _who?_” she whispered, “_who_ is on trial? What’s Alec done?”
The President looked past her at Mundt and said, “Perhaps no one is on trial. That is the point. Perhaps only the accusers. It can make no difference _who_ is accused,” she added, “it is a guarantee of your impartiality that you cannot know.”
Silence descended for a moment on the little room; and then, in a voice so quiet that the President instinctively turned her head to catch her words, she asked, “Is it Alec? Is it Leamas?”
“I tell you,” the President insisted, “it is better for you–far better–you should not know. You must tell the truth and go. That is the wisest thing you can do.”