Brandt And always, always, at the back of your mind, the fear that you'll be taken by surprise. Suddenly - another Norwegian. What will your Norwegian sound like to a Norwegian? —Vi må serge for å motes en gang. Det ville vosre en lettelse å snakke norsk igjen noen timer . . . ! - Will you pass or won't you? What if he's an old friend of Gunnar Gaasland's? Or what if you find yourself face to face with an old friend of Willy Brandt's? Or you're sitting talking with someone. Someone you've got to know quite well, perhaps. Feeling at ease with them. Feeling that everything's going well. And then you realise he's looking at you in a slightly odd way. At once you think . . .

Guillaume 'He knows!'

Brandt 'He knows . . . He knows . . .' It takes courage to live like that.

Guillaume I can imagine.

Brandt Courage and endurance.

Guillaume Yes.

Brandt More courage and endurance than I could muster. I fled, Günter. I fled. So perhaps you're right I'm not a spy. Just a suitcase with a series of false bottoms. Willy Flamme, Karl Martin . . . Felix Franke, Gunnar Gaasland . . . And somewhere among them the most secret compartment of them all. The one that you can remember finding once, and that you can never quite find again.

Guillaume The one called Herbert Frahm.

Brandt Or is it someone else altogether? Another little boy. A rather cheerful, ordinary one, not solemn or serious at all. Someone rather like your Pierre. The little boy that Herbert Frahm might have been if his father had brought him up and told him stories and played with him. Or even acknowledged his existence and given him his name. Herbert Moller. The boy I might have been, and never was.

Guillaume - We sit there through the long Norwegian evenings, and in that unfamiliar northern light everything begins to seem strange and uncertain. I've become transparent to him, and he's playing with me, just as I am with him. Or is it only the possibility he's playing with? Or is that what I'm doing? Is it him I'm seeing in the half-light, or is it a reflection of myself?

Kretschmann - You're still handling the telexes?

Guillaume - Yes.

Kretschmann — And not being watched?

Guillaume - No.

Kretschmann - Certain?

Guillaume - Certain. Then one night he asks me the same question he asked me before.

Brandt And you still think I can trust them?

Guillaume - It's almost dark. I can't see the expression on his face. - I hope they haven't been listening in to some of the things you've been telling me, Chief, or they might start to have a few doubts about you . . .

Kretschmann - He can't see your face.

Guillaume - No. But in the end the time comes to leave, and I have to show you the collected fruits of all my labours. So I simply get two of our dispatch-cases . . .

Bauhaus These two?