“Given that I’m about to deliver the deputy head of the East German State Security apparatus, I’d say it was cheap at twice the price.”

“Philip?”

“Yes, sir?”

“A price worth paying, would you say?”

“For Mielke? Yes, sir, I would. I’ve always thought that, since the beginning of this whole intelligence effort.”

“Because you know I shall want you to play the ringmaster at Herr Gunther’s show, don’t you?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I guess you know it now, eh, Philip?”

Scheuer looked uncomfortable at being put on the spot like this. “Yes, sir.”

“You too, Jim.”

Frei raised his eyebrows at that but nodded all the same.

I poured myself another glass of schnapps.

“Why not?” said the Chief. “I think we could all use a drink. Don’t you agree, Phil?”

“Yes, sir. I think we could.”

“But not schnapps, eh? Forgive me, Herr Gunther. There’s a lot about your country I admire. But we’re not very keen on schnapps at the CIA.”

“I imagine it’s rather hard to spike a glass this small.”

“Don’t you believe it.” The Chief smiled. “Hmm. Yes, that’s quite a sense of humor you have there, for a German.”

Philip Scheuer produced a bottle of bourbon and three glasses.

“Sure you won’t try any of this, Herr Gunther?” said the Chief. “To toast your deal with Ike.”

“Why not?” I said.

“Good man. We’ll make an American of you yet, sir.”

But that was exactly what I was worried about.

37

BERLIN, 1954