The Helsinki Pact (26 page)

Several kilometres passed. Thomas
experimented silently with several phrases but said
nothing.

The soporific thunk of the mobile
metronome continued.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about
things.” Her tone was quieter, more relaxed, as if taming the
engine and giving the finger to a Zil-driving apparatchik had put
her in a better mood.

“If unification comes about then
they're going to push for Berlin becoming the new capital of a
united Germany. That’s going to mean prices going up. That's not
just food and clothing but particularly rents. Dieter thinks
they’re going to increase dramatically, get more in line with
levels in the West. My rent agreement is just about up and so if
they increase rents like we think they might I'm going to be out on
the street, particularly if I have no job. Maybe Dieter will be
able to pull a few string for me though, perhaps get it renewed on
good terms.”

She was silent. He looked
sideways at her, wondering if there was more than a professional
interest behind Dieter’s concern and her apparent reliance on him.
They spent a lot of time together and he could see she found him
attractive, despite the differences in their positions and the age
gap which clearly existed.

“Dieter seems to worry a lot
about you. Looks after you, I suppose. What about, umm, his wife?
Ummm, he is married, I suppose. Man like that. Or, or, ummm, has he
a girlfriend? Maybe.”

He turned and stared out of the
window, wondering again at why he so often ended up wrong-footed,
why she had this capacity to turn him into a babbling schoolboy
unable to handle his feelings.

The sparse forests came and
went.

“Where are we going to stay in
Dresden? At your family’s place? Are your brother and mother both
there now? Oh, no, I remember, your mother moved, didn’t she? But
you still have it, don’t you? I think you said you had an aunt
living there. How big is it? Is it in the centre or ...
”

“You don't even wait for my
answers! I've known Dieter for a long time. I won't give you
details but I was kind of forced into working with him and I really
resented that. But what I've learned is that he's got integrity and
he's loyal but also that he's stubborn and awkward although he
comes out right more often than not. I think he'd like to be more
sociable but people don't really understand him well enough and he
won't compromise, even for the Party, if he thinks something's
wrong. He's made enemies but he doesn't seem to care about that. I
guess that's why he's not as senior as he could be.”

Again there was silence for
several minutes, broken only by the rhythmic drumming of the wheels
on the slabs.

“You said your brother was living
between Dresden and Berlin. If you want we could stop by for a
little while. What does he do?”

“No, I’d rather not stop. He does
nothing much." She laughed shortly. "Sits around in his room most
of the day. I'll see him another time.”

She grinned suddenly, glanced
across and patted his leg with her hand, then left it lying there
for a few beats of the wheels. “And no, Dieter and me, we're not
lovers! I’ve learned the hard way to make a distinction between
work and my personal life, Thomas. It might have been different if
we hadn't been working together, although I guess if we hadn't then
I wouldn't have got to know him as well as I do. But mixing the two
leads to all sorts of complications and I made that mistake shortly
after I was recruited. Not with Dieter though – I was furious with
him at that time – but there was another young guy working closely
with Dieter, we got thrown together a lot, he was sympathetic and,
well, things happened. You saw him. Hanno.”

She spoke quietly after another
short silence. “Until I found out what he was really
like.”

He glanced over but it was clear
there would nothing more. “And Dresden?" he asked. "Any ideas about
lodgings?”

“Well, as I told you, my family
used to live here but they’ve all moved. I’ve got an old friend on
the outskirts of the city we could maybe ask for leads but now that
the border’s open there are lots of people lodging visitors in
their homes to make a bit of money and we might be best doing that.
Let’s ask around. But we need to be discreet, say we've known about
Dresden and decided to visit, if anyone asks - news travels, even
in a city like this.”

Once they’d reached the city
Bettina drove towards Meissen, avoiding Dresden city centre.
Parking in front of a large industrial complex, she told Thomas to
wait in the car while she went to see if her friend was around and
doing the Sunday afternoon shift. “Best if nobody sees that we’re
together.”

Thomas watched Bettina cross the
road and approach a forbidding white gate over which was mounted a
substantial “no trespassing” sign. He was too far away to be able
to overhear the conversation but it was clear it had taken a wrong
turn. The guard was gesturing violently and looked threatening.
Just as Thomas was about to go to her help Bettina wheeled and
returned rapidly. She got into the car and slammed the door
violently, gripped and shook the steering wheel and then beat her
fist hard on it.

“Nnnnnrrrrrr! What an arsehole!
Said I couldn’t go in because the mill is being restructured. Said
that no one was there and, anyway, it was private ground. Private
ground?! What nonsense! This is a co-operative, always has been.
Let’s find somewhere to stay before it gets too late.”

She started the engine and took
off at speed, brushing an ambling dog which yelped out of the way
and causing Thomas to hold on grimly as they cornered until finally
her mad fury again abated.

They stopped at several
farmhouses on or close to the Meissen road but it wasn’t until the
fourth or fifth that they found a room. This farmhouse was slightly
larger than the others they had seen, although more damaged. The
back of the pigsty had been blown off, presumably during the war,
and a rough roof of metal sheets constructed as a temporary
measure, something which had now lasted over forty years, rusting
badly in the interim. The plaster and the paint which had earlier
covered the walls had almost completely worn away leaving the
original reddish brick. As they crossed the yard a motley
collection of chickens and ducks scattered and then waddled and
strutted behind them while a small flock of geese stood to one side
honking fiercely and making hissing, flapping rushes at the
intruders on their territory.

“I have one room only” said Frau
Gisela Dornbusch “but it’s quite a big one. I hope you won’t mind
the noise. The animals stir early, of course, but guests get used
to it quite quickly.”

“Sure, that’s fine.” said Thomas.
“It’ll be good to hear something other than cars for a change. We’d
like to take the room for the week and please, if you could, don’t
let the authorities know we’re staying. It’s just that we’ve come
away together against her parent’s wishes ... ”

He put his arm round Bettina’s
shoulders, feeling her stiffen as he did so, and smiled at their
host as he handed her the week’s rent, rounding it up to encourage
her agreement.

Frau Dornbusch led them through
the large kitchen, which also served as dining and living room, and
through a long corridor with doors on the left. Inside, the house
belied its desolate outer appearance and felt warm and comfortable,
being decorated with utmost simplicity and with only a few
household objects, woven baskets, wooden artefacts and the like,
lining the walls. They passed a tall solid oak armoire at the end
of the corridor before climbing the stairs.

The room was pleasant and there
was a large sleeping space in the middle of the floor, made up of
two mattresses pushed together without any frame and covered with a
couple of large duvets. The only furniture was a mid-sized chest of
drawers and a worn desk with a red chair set by it. There was a
full length mirror on one wall and beside it a window overlooked
the courtyard through which they'd come.

Frau Dornbusch handed them keys.
“You can come downstairs and have breakfast with us in the morning
if you like. We eat between eight and eight-thirty.” she
said.

“I’ll sleep on the left side,
OK?” Bettina put her pyjamas under the pillow. “I know that you’ll
behave like a gentleman and keep to your own side.”

She gave him a seductive smile,
arching her eyebrows, and began putting her things away in the
chest of drawers. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and
she was looking particularly beautiful, Thomas thought, as he
admired the curve of her waist, the subtle directional shifts in
the seat of her jeans and the way the material clung elegantly to
the backs of her thighs as she moved. He controlled his desire to
walk over, to hold her waist and nuzzle and kiss her neck,
remembering her earlier mood swings, and instead began to sort out
his own clothes.

He had learned that her verbal
come-ons were usually immediately followed by almost aseptic
coolness. In this, her mood swings reminded him a little of Olga
although with his old girlfriend he'd learned that it was just a
way to check if she could still control his emotions. Olga had kept
it up right until the end, even after she’d started double dating
the sculptor with whom she was now living, whereas with Bettina
there seemed to be a real concern that something might start which
she couldn't control. Work and pleasure don't mix, she'd said.
“Maybe the only way to really find a place in Bettina’s heart is to
stop being so obviously interested." he thought.

"Look." she said, turning round
and holding up against her a scooped neck black silk blouse through
the double thickness of which Thomas fancied he could still just
make out the green of the jersey she was wearing. He imagined what
it would look like on her. "Henkel's known as a bit of a skirt
chaser so I thought this might work well to get him talking. What
do you think?"

She ignored his grunt, laughed
and carefully laid the blouse over the back of the chair, covering
it with a tailored jacket and placing on the seat a matching skirt
and some sheer stockings. She lifted out from the drawer a pair of
thin black panties edged with red lace, spread them out at arms
length in front of her for a moment and dropped them on the pile,
adding to it a matching black bra.

She lay down on her side of the
bed, smiled at Thomas, stretched and nuzzled down into the pillow,
then stretched again and as Thomas surreptitiously wriggled towards
her swung round to grab the file Dieter had given her and again
faced Thomas, leaning on her elbow “Let’s review the material.
There are three likely suspects, assuming the bank director and the
central bank officer are clean - and the police are working on
these in any case.”

She pulled out a typewritten
sheet of paper with a photograph attached to it and continued in a
low voice, so as not to be overheard outside the room. “Gerd
Henkel, Treasurer. Forty-five years old. Single. 1.7 metres. Green
eyes. Dark brown hair, balding. Clean shaven. Smoker. Moderate
drinker. Leads a reserved lifestyle, although has been seen
occasionally in the last two years with younger girls, possibly
prostitutes. Last stable relationship with Angelica Dietz, born
June 1961 in Weimar, interrupted in September 1987 after almost two
years. No children.”

She continued with the
professional curriculum. “Completed technical studies and joined
the Party at the age of sixteen. Enlisted in the Organisation at
the age of twenty, first as an informer and two years later as
agent. Stays in Bonn, London and Paris. Held post as ...
”

“Why are you reading all this to
me?” Thomas snapped, resenting the glimpse she'd given him of what
he now recognised he desperately wanted but was convinced would
elude him. “I won’t be meeting them. I'm just here to back you up
and make sure nothing happens - but I'm sure you've plenty of
experience with men and don't want a chaperone.”

Bettina looked up from her files
and stared coldly at him..

“You’re right. Sometimes I forget
that you’re not really an agent, that you’re being forced to do
this. I’d foolishly thought that this time we’d be able to really
work together, maybe discuss developments, talk and explore ideas
about what was happening. But, yes, you’re right. I’ll be meeting
each of them alone. In private. On my own. Maybe the best use of
your time is to study the maps of their homes, in case you need to
break in.”

She handed him a file with
several large sheets of paper showing plans, elevations and
detailed notes on various large villas. “Henkel’s house, where
we’ll be going tonight, is in there. He’s expecting me at
nine-thirty. I’m sure you don’t care to learn whether or not he has
a pack of Rottweilers so I’ll keep on reading on my
own.”

Stung, Thomas snatched the papers
from her, wishing he’d kept quiet. He was angry and frustrated by
her changing moods towards him, at how he was constantly being
wrong footed by following her where she seemed to lead, opening
himself up and then hitting a barrier when he got too close. This
was becoming a ridiculous obsession, he thought. He'd best just
forget it. And yet, and yet ... Maybe through working together
things could change. He saw her in danger and he, Thomas, being the
one saving her. He laughed to himself. "And if I then just ignore
her ... "