“Mr. Clifton, what a pleasure to see you again,” said the Cabinet Secretary as the two men shook hands.
“What’s the teatime score?” asked Harry.
“England are seventy-one for five. Someone called Bedi is taking us apart.”
“I rather hope they beat us this time,” admitted Harry.
“That’s nothing less than high treason,” said Sir Alan, “but I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it. And by the way, congratulations on the worldwide success of Anatoly Babakov’s book.”
“You played your own role in making that possible, Sir Alan.”
“A minor role. After all, cabinet secretaries are not meant to appear on the stage, but be satisfied with prompting others from the wings. Can I get you a tea or coffee?”
“No, thank you,” said Harry, “and as I don’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary, I’ll get straight to the point.” Sir Alan leaned back in his chair. “Some years ago, you asked me to travel to Moscow on behalf of Her Majesty’s government, to carry out a private mission.”
“Which you did in an exemplary manner.”
“You may recall that I was required to memorize the names of a group of Russian agents operating in this country, and to pass those names on to you.”
“And most useful that has proved to be.”
“One of the names on that list was an agent called Pengelly.” The Cabinet Secretary reverted to being an expressionless mandarin. “I was rather hoping that is no more than a coincidence.” The wall of silence prevailed. “How stupid of me,” said Harry. “Of course you’d already worked out the significance of that particular name.”
“Thanks to you,” said Sir Alan.
“Has my brother-in-law been informed?” Another question that remained unanswered. “Is that entirely fair, Sir Alan?”
“Possibly not, but espionage is a dirty business, Mr. Clifton. One doesn’t exchange calling cards with the enemy.”
“But Giles is deeply in love with Pengelly’s daughter, and I know he wants to marry her.”
“She is not Pengelly’s daughter,” said Sir Alan. It was Harry’s turn to be struck dumb. “She’s a highly trained Stasi agent. The whole operation was a setup from the beginning, which we’re monitoring closely.”
“But Giles is bound to find out in time, and then all hell will be let loose.”
“You may be right, but until then my colleagues have to consider the bigger picture.”
“As you did with my son Sebastian, some years ago.”
“I will regret that decision for the rest of my life, Mr. Clifton.”
“And I suspect you will regret this one too, Sir Alan.”
“I don’t think so. If I were to tell Lord Barrington the truth about Karin Brandt, many of our agents’ lives would be put in danger.”
“Then what’s to stop me telling him?”
“The Official Secrets Act.”
“Are you absolutely confident that I wouldn’t go behind your back?”
“I am, Mr. Clifton, because if I know one thing about you, it’s that you would never betray your country.”
“You’re a bastard,” said Harry.
“That’s part of my job description,” said Sir Alan.
* * *