Читаем A good German полностью

“Is it? Then why didn’t you tell von Braun you were leaving Kransberg with Tully? You couldn’t, could you? Not the real reason. He thought you’d already taken care of the files. But you had to be sure. That’s why you came. It’s always been about the files. Not her.”

Emil kept staring at the floor. “You’d do anything to turn her against me,” he said, his tone aggrieved, closed off. He looked up. “You’ve told her this?”

“You tell her,” Jake said steadily. “I wasn’t there, remember? You were. Tell her how it was.” He watched Emil stand there, shaking his head numbly in the sudden stillness, and sank back against the pillow. “Then maybe she’ll figure it out for herself.”

Brian turned up after dinner, bringing a newspaper and a bottle of NAAFI scotch.

“Well, safe and sound. That looks nasty,” he said, pointing to the shoulder. “You ought to see to that.” He opened the bottle and poured two drinks. “Quite a hidey-hole, I must say. I saw a lovely thing in the hall. Nothing under the wrapper, by the looks of it. I don’t suppose they give out samples. Cheers.“ He tossed back the shot. ”How’d you find it?“

“It’s British owned.”

“Really? That’s the stuff.”

“Anybody see you come here?”

“Well, what’s to that? At my age I’m expected to pay for it.” He glanced over. “No, no one. Jeep’s in the courtyard behind, by the way. I thought you might like it off the street. Tempting.”

“Thanks.”

“I take it that’s the husband,” he said, nodding toward the living room. “The one moping on the couch. What are the sleeping arrangements, or am I being prurient?”

“Thanks for that too. I owe you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll collect. Your stunt, my exclusive. Fair?”

Jake smiled.

“You made the papers,” Brian said, handing it to him. “At least, I assume it’s you. No names. Not much sense either.”

Jake opened it up. PEACE headlined in bold across the top, with the picture of Marines raising the flag on I wo Jima. At the bottom right, in smaller type, wwm begins? who fired first? an account of the Chancellery shoot-out as confusing as the crossfire, with the implication that everyone had been drunk.

“You can’t imagine the hullabaloo. Well, maybe you can. Russians have been stamping their feet, cross as anything. Formal notes, want a special Council session, the lot. Say they won’t march in the victory parade-there’s a loss. Want to tell me what really happened?”

“Believe it or not, this is what happened. Except the Russians weren’t drunk.”

“That would be a first.”

“And I’m not in it,” Jake said, finishing the piece.

“Strictly speaking, boyo, you weren’t. You were with me.”

“Is that what you told them?”

“Had to. No end of questions otherwise. You’re the most popular man in Berlin these days. Absolutely belle of the ball-everybody wants to dance with you. If they knew where you were. Damned if I do. Came down to the dining room with a lady, offered me a lift-I might have been a little the worse for wear-dropped me on the

Ku’damm for a nightcap, and that’s the last I saw you. As for this,“ he said, pointing to the paper, ”what I hear is there was a civilian in the middle of it. Nobody knows who. German, would be my guess. Of course, the Russians aren’t saying, but they’re not supposed to be missing anybody in the first place.“

“But I spoke English.”

“Americans think everyone does. You tell them who you were?”

“No. And I spoke German to the Russians. Sikorsky wouldn’t have had time to-”

“You see? Believe me, nobody’s thinking about anything except covering their behinds. Damned silly, when you think of it, going to the bunker for a drink. Wanted to dance on Hitler’s grave, I suppose. Very unwise, all things considered. The point is, you were seen leaving the Adlon with me. Witnesses. And if I don’t know you, who would? That is the way you wanted it, isn’t it?”

Jake smiled at him. “You don’t miss a trick.”

“Not when the story’s mine. Exclusive, remember? It doesn’t do to share with your gang. So fair’s fair? What’s it all about?”

“It’s yours, I promise. Just wait a little.”

“Not even a taste? What in god’s name were you and the general wagging about? The late general, I should say. There’s a service tomorrow, by the way-all the Allies. That awful band of theirs, no doubt. I suppose you won’t be sending a wreath.”

“That’s right,” Jake said, not really listening. “You don’t know.”

“No, I don’t know,” he said, imitating Jake’s voice. “Until you tell me.”

“No, I mean nobody knows. What he said to me. Nobody knows. It could have been anything.”

“But what did he say?”

“Let me think for a minute. It’s important. I need to work this out.”

“You don’t mind, then?” Brian said, pouring another drink. “Always so gripping to watch someone think.”

“Anything. I mean, suppose he had told me?”

“Told you what?”

Jake was quiet for a minute, sipping his scotch.

“Hey, Brian,” he said finally, still brooding. “I want you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Have a drink at the press camp. My treat.”

“And?”

“Talk loose. Have a few. You saw me and I’ve got hold of a story and wouldn’t cut you in on it so you’re annoyed.”