Dominion (44 page)

Hubbold shook his head wearily. ‘I can’t say. Only that full cooperation is required of us.’

All at once the fight went out of Dabb. He slumped in his chair, then said, with quiet, angry intensity, ‘All these years, nothing like this has ever happened in my Registry. People
don’t follow procedures as they should, reprimands have to be issued. But a secret file under my control mishandled. Never!’ He shook his head in disbelief.

‘You’re in overall charge of the confidential files, then?’ Syme asked brusquely. ‘This separate room?’

‘I have supervision of the Registry,’ Dabb replied hesitantly. ‘But I have to trust my staff to be competent, not to make – gross errors.’ As he spoke he looked
accusingly at the woman. She stared back at him, breathing hard. They’re trying to shift the blame onto her, Gunther thought.

‘Have you any comments, Miss Bennett?’ Syme asked.

‘I don’t know how the Kenya document came to be in the secret file. I’d never seen it before.’ She spoke clearly and levelly. She wasn’t a particularly attractive
woman, Gunther thought, but she was striking, obviously bright.

‘So how do you think it got in there?’ Dabb asked wearily. ‘I suppose it decided to go for a little walk.’

‘I don’t know. I swear to that.’

Gunther thought, that’s true, but there’s more to it.

‘Can’t be many women doing your sort of work,’ Syme observed. ‘Wouldn’t have thought it was a woman’s job, not like teaching or nursing.’

He was trying to provoke her but she answered evenly. ‘I’ve worked in the service for thirteen years. I have full security clearance. I don’t think Mr Dabb has ever had cause
to complain before.’ She flashed her superior a spirited look.

Dabb made a quick, angry pout. ‘You’re compromised,’ he said bitterly. ‘Compromised.’ He looked at Syme. ‘I can’t believe it’s just coincidence
that the file this document came from was handled by an officer Miss Bennett is known to be very friendly with.’ He looked accusingly at Hubbold. ‘Your subordinate. Mr
Fitzgerald.’

So Dabb had made that connection too, Gunther thought.

‘Several others had the file,’ Hubbold replied, suddenly tetchy.

Carol looked at Syme. ‘Mr Fitzgerald has been a friend of mine for years. But only a friend.’

‘Men and women can’t be just friends,’ Dabb snapped. ‘It’s not in the nature of things.’

‘Something in that,’ Syme agreed, raising an eyebrow at Carol. Her face was reddening now. He asked her bluntly, ‘Do you have an improper relationship with David
Fitzgerald?’

She answered firmly. ‘No.’

‘They sometimes go to concerts,’ Dabb said. ‘It’s been department gossip for ages.’

Syme’s smile became a leer. ‘Where do you go, eh? Little hotel somewhere?’

‘We go to lunchtime concerts, that’s all we’ve ever done,’ Carol answered. Her voice was trembling. ‘Enquire as much as you like, ask David – Mr Fitzgerald.
You’ll find nothing improper. Nothing. Ever. He’s a married man.’

Gunther heard the undertone of bitterness and thought,
you wish he wasn’t
. He said, ‘A friendship. Just so. But would Mr Fitzgerald have had the opportunity, through this
friendship, to gain access to secret material?’

Carol looked at him, swallowed, then took a deep breath. ‘You’re German, aren’t you? Please, how are you involved in this?’

‘That’s none of your business,’ Syme said, harshly. ‘He’s working to me, that’s what matters. Answer the question.’

‘I can’t think of any way David could have got access to the file room,’ she said. ‘I never discussed my confidential work with him, I wouldn’t, ever. And he
didn’t ask me to.’

Gunther asked, ‘What about the keys to the room where the files are kept? You never gave him access to those?’

‘Of course not,’ she answered, her voice desperately sincere. ‘I always have the keys with me in the office, and if I go out I leave them at the front desk.’ She looked
at them steadily. ‘It’s not fair, you wouldn’t be asking these questions if it was a friendship between two men.’

Syme laughed. ‘I could tell you some stories on that subject.’ Hubbold and Dabb glanced at him with distaste.

Gunther thought,
the keys, people find many ways of making copies of keys
. He said to Carol, ‘So, the fact one of the few people who had access to this file is a friend of yours
– that is just a coincidence?’

‘I don’t know what it is,’ she answered vehemently. ‘I don’t understand it.’

‘Did you and Mr Fitzgerald ever discuss political matters?’

‘No,’ she answered heavily.

‘What would you say his politics were?’ Syme asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘And yours?’

‘I don’t have any.’ Her voice sounded weary now. ‘I’ve a sick mother to look after, my job to do. I don’t poke my nose into politics.’

There was silence for a moment. Gunther looked at Syme, then said, ‘I think that’s all we need from Miss Bennett for now.’ He stood up, and the others followed. Gunther smiled
at Carol. ‘Thank you, Miss Bennett.’

She looked at him uncertainly, then went out. When the door had closed, Dabb said to Syme, ‘I’ve taken her off her usual duties. I’m looking after the secret files myself for
now. Is that in order?’

‘I think so. For now.’

‘The Permanent Secretary should be told. At once. Police in the office.’

‘We’ll deal with that.’ Syme looked at Gunther. ‘I think he can go too, now?’ Gunther nodded agreement again. Syme grinned at Dabb. ‘Off you go then,
matey.’

Dabb made a sort of choking sound, then went out quickly. They were left with Hubbold. ‘Well?’ he asked quietly.

‘Do people here ever work outside normal hours?’ Gunther asked. ‘At weekends?’

‘When necessary.’ Hubbold hesitated, then added, ‘Mr Fitzgerald deals with the Commonwealth High Commissioners’ meetings. There’s been a lot to do these last few
months. He does come in at weekends. I’ve twitted him about it occasionally, said he shouldn’t be leaving his wife alone at home so much.’

Gunther said, ‘I think we’d like to see Mr Fitzgerald now. On his own. Could you leave us for a while?’

‘This is my office,’ Hubbold answered with unexpected stubbornness.

Syme said. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you go down and get Fitzgerald for us? Fetch him from his desk?’

Hubbold set his lips, then stood up. He clenched his hands, as though he would have liked to strike them, then said, ‘Very well,’ stiffly, and left the room.

When the door shut Syme said, ‘There’s something fishy between Fitzgerald and that woman. I can smell it.’

Gunther said, ‘I don’t think she gave him access to that room. But I think he got access through her, got hold of her keys though I can’t work out how.’

‘He was with the secret files at the weekend and got some papers mixed up?’

‘That would make sense.’

‘What do we do when they come back? Get rid of that old fool and then arrest Fitzgerald?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘What about arresting the woman, too?’

‘No. Not yet.’ Gunther looked at Syme. ‘Let’s not make too many waves. Just Fitzgerald. We’ll take him back to Senate House, interview him.’

‘Interrogation German-style?’ Syme asked.

‘Just ordinary questioning to start with,’ Gunther answered wearily. ‘Then we’ll see.’

Syme shrugged, then looked seriously at Gunther. ‘Resistance spies going through secret government files. This could be big.’

‘I know.’

The door opened. Hubbold stood framed in the doorway, his face red, his white hair wild, eyes more enormous than ever behind his glasses. He spoke in a rush. ‘He’s gone.
Fitzgerald’s gone. I went to his office and he wasn’t there. I phoned the porter. He said Fitzgerald came down in his hat and coat, the porter told him I wanted him to stay in the
Office but he just walked out. He ignored my order. He’s gone.’ Then, with sudden emotion he hit the side of the door and wailed, ‘He’s betrayed me.’

T
HAT MORNING
D
AVID WAS PREPARING
the agenda for the next High Commissioners’ meeting. When he came into the office Carol
was not yet at her desk. He had been very worried by the telephone call last night; he didn’t know whether she was looking for a shoulder to cry on after being questioned about the missing
file, or had somehow guessed at his own involvement. He had been horrified to realize Sarah thought he was having an affair.

Last night they had gone out to Steve and Irene’s house. David and Sarah had both been anxious and preoccupied. Over dinner Irene had rattled on about Christmas arrangements, how the
children were doing at school, the cold weather, all the while looking sharply between David and Sarah, sensing something was wrong. Steve had been put on his best behaviour and neither politics
nor the deportations were mentioned, though Irene spoke about some trouble at Wandsworth; a crowd of Jive Boys had torn up the seats of a concert hall where one of the new rock ’n’ roll
bands from America were performing. ‘They’re talking about banning any more of those records coming in from America.’

‘So they should,’ Steve agreed. ‘The Jive Boys are always fighting. Bunch of louts. They look like queers in those long frock-coat things, but they behave like
thugs.’

‘And the Blackshirts don’t?’ David asked.

‘Now,’ said Irene quickly, to stop the discussion getting out of hand. ‘Everyone agrees the Jive Boys aren’t political, they just like making trouble with
anyone.’

After eating they watched a television comedy programme with Frankie Howerd, which made David want to scream with boredom. As they got their coats to leave Steve told them he was going on a
business trip to Germany after Christmas. ‘Linz,’ he said. ‘The Führer’s home town. Another new building project.’

David didn’t rise to the bait. He and Sarah drove home in chilly silence. As they turned into their street David said, ‘I’m not having an affair with that woman. I wish
you’d believe me.’

‘I wish that too,’ Sarah answered sadly. ‘But I can’t.’

It was hard to give any attention to work that morning. Just before ten his telephone rang. ‘Fitzgerald,’ he answered abruptly.

‘David?’ He recognized Carol’s voice. It sounded strained, breathless.

‘Yes?’

‘David, I’ll have to be quick. Something’s happened.’

‘What—’

‘I’m phoning from an office along the corridor. It’s empty, but someone may come in. Please listen, there isn’t time.’ She spoke urgently. ‘I’ve just
left a meeting with Dabb and your boss, Mr Hubbold. There were –’ David heard her take a deep breath – ‘there were two policemen present as well. They said they were from
Special Branch but one was a German. There was a document in one of the restricted files that shouldn’t have been there, it came from a file you’d been handling.’ Her voice
quickened. ‘Hubbold reported it to Dabb and he was trying to blame me—’

David’s heart was beating fast. He said, ‘Was this what you wanted to talk about last night?’

‘Yes. David, please listen. The policemen, they wanted to know about our – friendship. They think I might have given you access to the secret room. I told them we were just friends,
you hadn’t asked me for anything. But there was a file open on Hubbold’s desk, I saw your name. I think it’s your personnel file. I’m ringing to warn you, they might call
you up.’

David forced himself to speak calmly. ‘How are Special Branch involved in this? And the German?’ He thought, this has to be because of Frank, somehow he’s led them to me.

‘I don’t know. But I had to warn you. I don’t know what’s going to happen.’ Carol’s voice faltered again. ‘Don’t tell me, if you’ve been
doing something you shouldn’t, I don’t want to know—’

He said, ‘Carol, I’m sorry—’

‘
Don’t tell me anything.
’ Her voice was a sudden urgent hiss. ‘I can’t tell them what I don’t know. You’re a good man, David.’ She spoke in
a softer tone. ‘Whatever you did would be for good motives, I know that.’ Then she said sadly, ‘You know what I’ve always felt about you. You do, don’t you? I could
tell.’

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

There was a moment’s silence. Then Carol said, very quietly, ‘They won’t be able to find evidence against me, because there isn’t any. Even if you go away.’ He
didn’t answer. ‘You’re going to go away, aren’t you? No, don’t answer that, don’t.’

‘Carol—’

‘You have to do what you think is right. You’re a
good
man, David.’ The line went dead.

He put the phone down, shocked. Then his mind clicked into the routine he had learned, what to do if there was an emergency at work, if it looked as though he had been discovered. Leave the
office at once, go to a public telephone and ring a number he had memorized a long time ago. He stood abruptly. If he left, he knew, Carol would be in deeper trouble. She had loved him and he had
used her and still she was trying to save him.

Sarah. She was in danger too; everyone was if they caught him. He looked at the door. Now the moment had come; Hubbold, everyone he knew in the Office, was an enemy, a potential captor. And two
policemen here, one a German. He grabbed his coat and hat from behind the door, picked up his briefcase and umbrella. Rapidly, he walked the two floors down to the vestibule; he wanted to run but
knew that would attract attention. As he crossed the lobby he heard Sykes, the porter, call out, urgently: ‘Mr Fitzgerald! Mr Hubbold said you were to wait.’ David didn’t stop or
turn, just walked steadily to the exit. An elderly cleaner in flowered housecoat and headscarf stared at him over her mop.

‘Mr Fitzgerald!’ Sykes was shouting now. ‘Please, wait!’

He went through the doors, down the steps to the street, then ran all the way down Whitehall.

He found a telephone box on the corner of Trafalgar Square. It smelt of urine. He found some pennies in his pocket and dialled the number he had memorized. He stood, waiting to
press Button A. The phone rang and rang but nobody answered.

He felt panic clawing at him. Had the police already got the people on the other end, was this part of a general sweep? It couldn’t be, surely, or they would just have come and taken him,
not involved Hubbold and Dabb first. The number cut out suddenly. He dialled again. He was holding the heavy black receiver so tightly his hand hurt. Again nobody answered. He slammed the phone
down and stood staring through the dirty windows of the telephone box at the people walking by in the grey morning, the dirty pigeons fluttering round the foot of Nelson’s Column. Absurdly,
he felt afraid to leave the box, as though it were some sort of refuge. Then he thought,
I have to get to Sarah. They’ll know where I live, they’ll go there, but I have to try
.
That was against orders but something must have happened; he was on his own now. He dialled his home number. He remembered the daily woman did not come on Fridays; Sarah would be alone. He would
tell her to leave at once and meet him in town. Again, though, the number just rang and rang. At the thought she might have already been arrested his legs trembled and David had to lean against the
cold, damp wall of the box. He told himself she could just have gone to the shops, she usually did once a day. He had to go to her. He knew it could be dangerous, there could be police watching the
house, but he had to. He dialled the number again but there was still no reply. He pressed Button B to get his pennies back – he might need them – and stepped out of the telephone box.
He noticed for the first time how cold it was. He walked towards the tube station, only feeling relief when he disappeared into the anonymity of the Underground.