Breakfast again and a much subdued Welshman not drawn by undercooked sausage and overcooked tomato.
‘Do you want these back,’ Lacon demanded, ‘or have you done with them? They can’t be very enlightening since they don’t even contain the reports.’
‘Tonight, please, if you don’t mind.’
‘I suppose you realise you look a wreck.’
He didn’t realise, but at Bywater Street when he returned there Ann’s pretty gilt mirror showed his eyes red-rimmed and his plump cheeks clawed with fatigue. He slept a little, then went his mysterious ways. When evening came Lacon was actually waiting for him. Smiley went straight on with his reading.
For six weeks, according to the files, the naval despatch had no successor. Other sections of the Ministry of Defence echoed the Admiralty’s enthusiasm for the original despatch, the Foreign Office remarked that ‘this document sheds an extraordinary sidelight on Soviet aggressive thinking’, whatever that meant; Alleline persisted in his demands for special handling of the material but he was like a general with no army. Lacon referred frostily to ‘the somewhat delayed follow-up’, and suggested to his Minister that he should ‘defuse the situation with the Admiralty’. From Control, according to the file, nothing. Perhaps he was lying low and praying it would blow over. In the lull a Treasury Moscow-gazer sourly pointed out that Whitehall had seen plenty of this in recent years: an encouraging first report, then silence, or, worse, a scandal.
He was wrong. In the seventh week Alleline announced publication of three new Witchcraft reports all on the same day. All took the form of secret Soviet interdepartmental correspondence, though the topics differed widely.
Witchcraft No. 2, according to Lacon’s summary, described tensions inside Comecon and spoke of the
degenerative effect of Western trade deals on its weaker members. In Circus terms, this was a classic report from Roy Bland territory, covering the very target which the Hungarian-based Aggravate network had been attacking in vain for years. ‘Excellent tour d’horizon,’ wrote a Foreign Office customer, ‘and backed by good collateral.’
Witchcraft No. 3 discussed revisionism in Hungary and Radar’s renewed purges in political and academic life: the best way to end loose talk in Hungary, said the author of the paper, borrowing a phrase coined by Khrushchev long before, would be to shoot some more intellectuals. Once again this was Roy Bland territory. ‘A salutary warning,’ wrote the same Foreign Office commentator, ‘to all those who like to think the Soviet Union is going soft on satellites.’
These two reports were both in essence background, but Witchcraft No. 4 was sixty pages long and held by the customers to be unique. It was an immensely technical Soviet Foreign Service appreciation of the advantages and disadvantages of negotiating with a weakened American president. The conclusion, on balance, was that by throwing the President a bone for his own electorate, the Soviet Union could buy useful concessions in forthcoming discussions on multiple nuclear warheads. But it seriously questioned the desirability of allowing the United States to feel too much the loser, since this could tempt the Pentagon into a retributive or pre-emptive strike. The report was from the very heart of Bill Haydon territory. But as Haydon himself wrote in a touching minute to Alleline – promptly copied without Haydon’s knowledge to the Minister and entered on the Cabinet Office file – in twenty-five years of attacking the Soviet nuclear target he had not laid his hands on anything of this quality.
‘Nor,’ he concluded, ‘unless I am extremely mistaken, have our American brothers-in-arms. I know that these are early days, but it does occur to me that anyone taking this material to Washington could drive a very hard bargain in return. Indeed, if Merlin maintains the standard, I would venture to predict that we could buy anything there is to have in the American agency’s shop.’
Percy Alleline had his reading room; and George Smiley made himself a coffee on the derelict burner beside the washstand. Midway the meter ran out and in a temper he called for Norman and ordered five pounds’ worth of shillings.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
With mounting interest Smiley continued his journey through Lacon’s meagre records from that first meeting of protagonists until the present day. At the time, such a mood of suspicion had gripped the Circus that even between Smiley and Control the subject of Source Merlin became taboo. Alleline brought up the Witchcraft reports and waited in the anteroom while the mothers took them to Control, who signed them at once in order to demonstrate that he had not read them. Alleline took back the file, poked his head round Smiley’s door, grunted a greeting, and clumped down the staircase. Bland kept his distance, and even Bill Haydon’s breezy visits, traditionally a part of the life up there, of the talking shop which Control in the old days had liked to foster among his senior lieutenants, became fewer and shorter, then ceased entirely.