A Bitter Field (16 page)

‘But you cannot carry it out?’

‘For the reasons I gave you as we walked around the Jewish cemetery.’

‘Is it one that I could execute given the right circumstances?’

‘I believe so,’ Moravec replied. ‘Otherwise I would not have brought you to this place.’

‘And if Henlein takes flight, which he is bound to do under the circumstances of German invasion, what then? He would not want to fall into your hands, would he?’

That got two nods.

‘So you must have more than just a pre-planned assault on the hotel; there must be one to take him between there and his house, which he might go to on the way, or a place where you could ambush him before he gets to the German border?’

That got Cal a full flashing smile, in truth no more than an acknowledgement that he had discerned the obvious; these people had plans in place for any eventuality.

‘Naturally,’ Moravec said, ‘should the invasion come, our police would storm Henlein’s hotel and Frank’s Nazi HQ to find evidence of their activities, things that could be shown to the neutral press to increase pressure for their aid. They would not, we think, be able to remove or burn all the files in time and if they did so prematurely that would alert us to the aggressive movements of the German army.’

‘You know, you should do it now and tell your president to go to hell.’

‘To which he would say, the consequences would bring on that which we most fear. Imagine Hitler’s closing speech at Nuremberg on Monday if we do that, and besides, both locations are well defended, Henlein’s house less so, but there are plenty of locals in Asch who would come to his aid to fight us, so taking even that would not be easy.’

‘Even if you took him by surprise?’

‘A difficult thing for a Czech to do when they cannot even get into his hotel if they are local, and no stranger would be allowed entry unless they could prove they were ethnic Germans.’

‘Go in numbers?’

‘How many? Remember, in Cheb too he is surrounded by his own kind who would be keen to protect him.’

Veseli took over. ‘And how can we surprise him when we would need the army to take the place?’

‘Understand,’ Moravec interjected, ‘that apart from manning the defensive emplacements in the borderlands, most of our troops have been withdrawn from the disputed provinces to locations where they pose no threat to the German minority. Left in place it would be too easy for Goebbels to claim the soldiers were committing atrocities.’

‘Even the police in Cheb are kept in their station unless an incident occurs they must deal with, and they have strict instructions to stay well away from the Victoria Hotel.’

‘I need copies of those ambush plans and I need to go and take a look to see if there is any way that I can implement what you dare not.’

‘You need more than that, my friend,’ the older Czech replied. ‘You need a reason to be there.’

‘Understand, sir,’ Veseli said, the honorific making Cal wonder to whom he was talking until he realised that in introducing his agent Moravec had not given him any name. ‘Cheb is not a large town and it is ninety-ten per cent ethnically German, Asch almost wholly so.’

He paused to make sure Cal understood.

‘They are doubly suspicious of strangers at the moment, regardless of their nationality, unless they know why it is they have come there,
and given the number of members of the SdP in both places, any outsider would be treated a suspicious person as a matter of course and watched.’

‘Presumably, then, you do not go under the name of Karol in Cheb?’

The two other men only exchanged a half a flicker of a look, but it was enough to tell Cal that Karol Veseli was not his real name, but certainly his given one in a Czech-spelt version and, he suspected, if asked to spell it, though it would sound the same, it would read very differently. Given his looks, added to what he had just said about Cheb, it was clear he could not move around there without arousing suspicion unless he was a long-term resident himself.

Cal knew something about small towns, having spent four years before the World War in a Scottish one and found himself an outsider to people who knew each other from their very first day at school right through to their places of work. Without those connections it was hard to discover who was cousin to whom and to understand all the local matters that constituted old enmities and long-standing grudges.

In such places you watched the generations come and depart, caught sight of the same faces in their main streets, shops and events, as well as seeing your fellow citizens procreate and age. Captain Karol Veseli, or whatever he was called, to do what he did in such a community, had to be either wholly or partly an ethnic German and he certainly looked like one.

So it was a fair bet he was a ‘traitor’ to his own kind, or a Czech patriot, depending on which side of the divide you occupied. Whatever, he was playing a very dangerous game in which there was only one price for exposure and it would not be just a bullet;
discovered, he would be ripped limb from limb.

‘I doubt we would be sitting here if you did not have some notion of how we can visit there and move around freely.’

‘Last night you were observed dining with an American female journalist,’ Moravec ventured, his tone cautious. ‘A Miss Corrine Littleton.’

There was no point in Cal asking how he knew her and her occupation; it was his job to know and Moravec already knew he and Vince had been followed to the restaurant. Question: did her job have a bearing on that card being dropped on the table? Had that been part of a jigsaw Moravec was toying with?

Cal knew also enough about intelligence work to realise that a lot of what went on was manipulation and he wondered if that was what he was being subjected to now. He had come to Prague looking for facts about dissent in Germany and now he was being edged in another direction entirely, not that it made much difference if the end result was the same.

‘How well are you acquainted with the lady?’ While Cal was considering how to reply to that, Moravec added, ‘You seemed to be friendly from what was observed—’

That’s all you know,
Cal thought.

‘—much more so than the men with whom she drinks in the hotel bar.’ That got the older Czech a look of deep curiosity, to which he responded, ‘The barman, who has good English, observes that they treat her with little respect, that if they are kind, they talk down to her.’

‘Because she’s a woman?’

‘No, because she drinks little, but more because she lacks experience.’ That was followed by a sardonic smile. ‘You will know
that such men have been in many places and seen many wars and perhaps they drink so much to forget what it is they have seen. To them our troubles are just another crisis. They are, I suspect, full of cynicism.’

Cal had met many a war correspondent in his travels, more recently in Madrid, and that was a description which entirely suited them; they drank like fish, would roger anything female that moved and looked willing, while they took not a word they were told at face value for the very good reason they had heard it all before.

‘But your Miss Littleton is not that, which might make her perfect for what we have in mind.’

‘For some time now,’ Veseli cut in, before Cal could nail that statement, ‘it has been suggested to Konrad Henlein that he should cease to avoid the international press, that he should stop hiding away in his hotel suite and grant an interview to a selected journalist from the democracies to insist he wants peace. What better time could there be than now, when the trumpets are blaring in Nuremberg?’

The person who would be pressing for that could be the agent they had in place, whoever he was.

‘He will not countenance, naturally, a French or British publication, but an American one he is less troubled by, given there is a large German population in the USA to whom he would like to be able to speak and who could be counted on to put pressure on the US Government to give consideration to his aims.’

‘Or,’ Moravec said bitterly, ‘his lies.’

‘I take it he has agreed.’

‘I think such an opportunity would please a young lady American
journalist, don’t you?’ Moravec replied softly. ‘And I can say a request would be received favourably from such a person.’

Cal recalled what Corrie had said about the borderlands being hard to get into without a police escort and the frustration that was causing her.

‘I think any one of them would trip over themselves to get an interview with Henlein, especially if it was not the whole pack.’ For some reason the thought of the way her peers were treating Corrie annoyed him. ‘And for Miss Littleton it would be one in the eye to all those fellows you say are patronising her.’

‘“Exclusive”,’ Moravec said in English, ‘they call it, I think.’

‘But she has been told she cannot go there without being escorted by the police. I can’t see Henlein agreeing to having a Czech policeman present while he’s interviewed.’

‘Naturally,’ Veseli added with a grave expression, ‘for a woman journalist to travel to a dangerous part of our country alone would not be wise, and you are right that Henlein would not accept that anyone from the Republic should escort her …’

‘But two British nationals?’

‘No, we had in mind one only,’ Veseli said. ‘To drive her, look after her welfare and, of course, interpret.’

Moravec took up the baton. ‘You can, after all, easily do such a thing for her.’

He was not about to respond to that right away, so it took several seconds, while he was under close scrutiny, before he nodded at the logic; she would have to have an interpreter and some kind of bodyguard would be wise, but how could that be squared with the local police?

‘That, I think, can be arranged,’ Moravec said, ‘by my talking to
Colonel Doležal, while to Henlein, to lift such a requirement at his request would only look like the kind of Czech collaboration he now takes for granted.’

‘You think we would be free to move around?’

‘It would be part of the arrangements,’ Veseli said, with such assurance Cal wondered if he was the inside man. ‘Anything written about the area must include an impression of what it is like for the ordinary people, though not Czechs, and it would be unwise to approach the many social democrats who live there. That would cause Henlein unease.’

‘And he would know, because?’

‘You will be followed wherever you go.’

‘I would need a car and a good one to befit my supposed occupation.’ He was thinking of that Tatra he had bought, which was not the kind of vehicle to turn up in. ‘And it can’t be anything belonging to the Czech state.’

‘A suitable one can be hired.’

‘There’s only one problem that I can see, quite apart from being unhappy without my own man or anyone else to back me up. Corrie Littleton would have to know what I am trying to do.’

Moravec waved a finger in dismissal. ‘You tell your lady friend that through your contacts you have been able to arrange her a meeting with Henlein. She will, I think, be too excited about that to press home questions you do not want to answer about how it was arranged.’

‘One thing I should tell you, Colonel Moravec – you are talking of a lady who knows what I do for a living and is already curious about what I am up to in Prague.’

‘Ah! She is not, as you would say, a paramour?’ Cal actually laughed,
which brought forth two frowns to tell him how inappropriate that reaction was in such a serious situation. ‘It was said to me she might be, given the lady is not married.’

Vaclav must have watched them for a while and observed their animated conversation, while Moravec had done his digging about Corrie Littleton, and they had come to a conclusion that was at total odds with the facts.

Right now he was not committed to anything, nor would he ever have been without he had surveyed the ground. What was on offer was a way to accomplish what he had come to Prague for, but regardless of what Moravec said – and surely he must know it even if he did not want to admit it – Corrie would have to be in on the deal to some extent.

‘The only question that lacks an answer is what you are doing in Czechoslovakia.’

‘I have certain documents, papers from a good friend, to cover that, both here and in Germany. In them it will tell anyone who asks that I am on the lookout for trade opportunities in chemicals.’

Moravec was impressed, but troubled. ‘I had in mind a disguise for you as a German national.’

‘I can’t see the necessity, but there is one other thing: I am not armed and I don’t like the idea of being in bandit country without the means to defend myself.’

It was Veseli – or whatever his name was – who replied. ‘You cannot travel with weapons, it is too risky given our police might search your car, but maybe they can be discreetly provided when you get to Cheb.’

‘Fine.’

‘You must get Miss Littleton to send a telegram to Henlein’s press
office at the Victoria Hotel asking for an interview and stating her credentials, while also insisting that she wants to give him and the cause he leads a fair hearing.’

‘She will ask to come to Cheb with her own interpreter,’ Veseli continued, ‘and give your name and the nature of your business.’

‘They will refuse unless she comes unescorted, and once that is granted by us, they will next seek to get her to come alone, but if she declines they will back down.’

There was no point in asking how Veseli knew all this, but Cal suspected he was running whatever agent they had in place, if he was not himself that person.

‘Miss Littleton has not had her accreditation from the Interior Ministry.’

‘That will be seen to.’

‘Then it only remains for me to talk to her.’

‘Time to eat,’ Moravec said, showing a relish wholly at odds with his normal demeanour; clearly he was either a man who liked his grub or Cal’s agreement had relieved him of the worry of a refusal.

As they ate – a very tasty lamb stew Veseli had prepared – they talked. Cal was only partly engaged in the general conversation, mostly background to where he was going and the people who mattered there, while he also had to consider the likelihood of anyone in the Czech borderlands knowing him – unlikely given he had operated in Hamburg.