Armstrong nodded.
“Did my husband leave any other message for me?”
“Yes. He told me that his final wish was that you should also return Arno’s shares to him.”
“What shares did he mean?” she asked, sounding anxious for the first time. “They didn’t mention any shares when they came to visit me.”
“It seems that Arno sold Herr Lauber some shares in a publishing company not long after Hitler came to power, and your husband promised he would return them as soon as the war was over.”
“Well, of course I would be only too happy to do so,” the old woman said, shivering again. “But sadly I am not in possession of any shares. Perhaps Klaus made a will…”
“Unfortunately not, Mrs. Lauber,” Armstrong said. “Or if he did, we haven’t been able to find it.”
“How unlike Klaus,” she said. “He was always so meticulous. But then, perhaps it has disappeared somewhere in the Russian zone. You can’t trust the Russians you know,” she whispered.
Armstrong nodded his agreement. “That doesn’t present a problem,” he said, taking her hand again. “I am in possession of a document which invests me with the authority to ensure that Arno Schultz, if he is still alive and we can find him, will receive the shares he’s entitled to.”
Mrs. Lauber smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s a great relief to know that the matter is in the hands of a British officer.”
Armstrong opened his briefcase and removed the contract. Turning to the last of its four pages, he indicated two penciled crosses, and handed Mrs. Lauber his pen. She placed her spidery signature between the crosses, without having made any attempt to read a single clause or paragraph of the contract. As soon as the ink was dry, Armstrong placed the document back in his Gladstone bag and clipped it shut. He smiled across at Mrs. Lauber.
“I must return to Berlin now,” he said, rising from his chair, “where I shall make every effort to locate Herr Schultz.”
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Lauber, who slowly rose to her feet and led him back down the passage to the front door. “Goodbye,” she said, as he stepped out onto the landing, “it was most kind of you to come all this way on my behalf.” She smiled weakly and closed the door without another word.
“Well?” said Tulpanov when Armstrong rejoined him in the back of the car.
“She signed the agreement.”
“I thought she might,” said Tulpanov. The car swung round in a circle and began its journey back to Berlin.
“So what happens next?” asked Armstrong.
“Now you have spun the coin,” said the KGB major. “You have won the toss, and decided to bat. Though I must say that what you’ve just done to Mrs. Lauber could hardly be described as cricket.”
Armstrong looked quizzically at him.
“Even I thought you’d give her the 40,000 marks,” said Tulpanov. “But no doubt you plan to give Arno—” he paused “—the chess set.”
* * *
The following morning, Captain Richard Armstrong registered his ownership of Der Telegraf with the British Control Commission. Although one of the officials raised an eyebrow, and he was kept waiting for over an hour by another, eventually the duty clerk stamped the document authorizing the transaction, and confirmed that Captain Armstrong was now the sole owner of the paper.
Charlotte tried to disguise her true feelings when she was told the news of her husband’s “coup.” She was certain it could only mean that their departure for England would be postponed yet again. But she was relieved when Dick agreed that she could return to Lyon to be with her parents for the birth of their firstborn, as she was determined that any child of hers would begin its life as a French citizen.
Arno Schultz was surprised by Armstrong’s sudden renewed commitment to Der Telegraf. He started making contributions at the morning editorial conference, and even took to riding on the delivery vans on their midnight sojourns around the city. Arno assumed that his boss’s new enthusiasm was directly related to Charlotte’s absence in Lyon.
Within a few weeks they were selling 300,000 copies of the paper a day for the first time, and Arno accepted that the pupil had become the master.
A month later, Captain Armstrong took ten days’ compassionate leave so he could be in Lyon for the birth of his first child. He was delighted when Charlotte presented him with a boy, whom they christened David. As he sat on the bed holding the child in his arms, he promised Charlotte that it would not be long before they left for England, and the three of them would embark on a new life.
He arrived back in Berlin a week later, resolved to tell Colonel Oakshott that the time had come for him to resign his commission and return to England.
He would have done so if Arno Schultz hadn’t held a party to celebrate his sixtieth birthday.
14.
Adelaide Gazette