The Fourth Estate

When Dick arrived back at the apartment a few minutes before midnight, Charlotte was already asleep. He undressed, threw on a dressing-gown and crept upstairs to David’s room. He stood by the side of the cot for some time, staring down at his son.

“I shall build you an empire,” he whispered, “which one day you will be proud to take over.”

* * *

The next morning, Armstrong reported to Colonel Oakshott that he had attended Arno Schultz’s sixtieth birthday party, but not that he had met Julius Hahn. The only piece of news Oakshott had for Dick was that Major Forsdyke had phoned to say he wanted him to make another trip to the Russian sector. Armstrong promised he would contact Forsdyke, but didn’t add that he planned to visit the American sector first.

“By the way, Dick,” said the colonel. “I never did see your article about the way we’re treating the Germans in our internment camps.”

“No, sir. I’m sorry to say that the bloody Krauts just wouldn’t cooperate. I’m afraid it all turned out to be a bit of a waste of time.”

“I’m not that surprised,” said Oakshott. “I did warn you…”

“And you have been proved right, sir.”

“I’m sorry to hear it, though,” replied the colonel, “because I still believe it’s important to build bridges with these people and to regain their confidence.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, sir,” said Armstrong. “And I can assure you that I’m trying to play my part.”

“I know you are, Dick. How’s Der Telegraf faring in these difficult times?”

“Never better,” he replied. “Starting next month we’ll have a Sunday edition on the streets, and the daily is still breaking records.”

“That’s tremendous news,” said the colonel. “By the way, I’ve just been told that the Duke of Gloucester may be making an official visit to Berlin next month. Could make a good story.”

“Would you like to see it on the front page of Der Telegraf?” Armstrong asked.

“Not until I get the all-clear from Security. Then you can have—what do you call it?—an exclusive.”

“How exciting,” said Armstrong, remembering the colonel’s penchant for visiting dignitaries, especially members of the royal family. He rose to leave.

“Don’t forget to report to Forsdyke,” were the colonel’s final words before Armstrong saluted and was driven back to his office.

Armstrong had more pressing considerations on his mind than a major from the security service. As soon as he had cleared the mail from his desk, he warned Sally that he intended to spend the rest of the day in the American sector. “If Forsdyke calls,” he said, “make an appointment for me to see him some time tomorrow.”

As Private Benson drove him across the city toward the American sector, Armstrong went

through the sequence of events that would be necessary if everything were to appear unplanned. He told Benson to stop off at Holt & Co, where he withdrew £100 from his account, almost clearing his entire balance. He left a token sum, as it was still a court-martial offense for a British officer to have an overdraft.

Once he had crossed into the American sector, Benson drew up outside another bank, where Armstrong exchanged the sterling for $410, which he hoped would be a large enough stake to ensure that Max Sackville would fall in with his plans. The two of them had a leisurely lunch in the American mess, and Armstrong agreed to join the captain later that evening for their usual game of poker. When he jumped back into his jeep, he ordered Benson to drive him to the offices of Der Berliner.

Julius Hahn was surprised to see Captain Armstrong so soon after their first meeting, but he immediately dropped what he was doing to show his distinguished visitor round the plant. It took Armstrong only a few minutes to realize the size of the empire Hahn controlled, even if he did keep repeating in a self-deprecating way, “It’s nothing like the old days.”

By the time Armstrong had completed his tour, including the twenty-one presses in the basement, he was aware of just how insignificant Der Telegraf was by comparison with Hahn’s outfit, especially when his host mentioned that he had seven other printing presses of roughly the same size in other parts of Germany, including one in the Russian sector of Berlin.

When Armstrong finally left the building a few minutes after five, he thanked Julius, as he had started to call him, and said, “We must meet again soon, my friend. Perhaps you’d care to join me for lunch some time?”

“That’s most kind of you,” said Hahn. “But as I’m sure you know, Captain Armstrong, I’m not allowed to visit the British sector.”

“Then I will simply have to come to you,” said Armstrong with a smile.

Hahn accompanied his visitor to the door and shook him warmly by the hand. Armstrong crossed the road and walked down one of the side streets, ignoring his driver. He stopped when he came to a bar called Joe’s, and wondered what it had been known as before the war. He stepped inside as Benson brought the jeep to a halt a few yards further down the road.

Armstrong ordered a Coca-Cola and took a seat in the corner of the bar. He was relieved that no one recognized him or made any attempt to join him. After a third Coke, he checked that the $410 was in place. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

“Where the hell is he?” demanded Forsdyke.