“In spite of the weight of experience he had behind him to form a contrary opinion, I have to say it was entirely typical of Guy that he might actually believe the BBC would even be capable of broadcasting this tape recording. Guy was always extremely critical of the BBC and all its works. He believed, as I do, that the BBC is one of those institutions that trivializes the serious and it’s impossible to imagine that they would have treated this tape as he could ever have wished them to. I can only assume he must have supposed some left-leaning soul at the BBC, intent on embarrassing the government, would leak the tape to a newspaper such as the Manchester Guardian in order that they might publish an extract from the tape. But even they would have been subject to a Defense Advisory Notice forbidding publication on the grounds of national security. The idea that open criticism of the security services is now permissible in our media is laughable, to say the least. Nor is his admission of the ease with which he helped himself to sensitive files something that could ever be allowed to be heard by the great British public.”

“Yes, that’s very damaging,” admitted Sinclair. “It makes us look like incompetents.”

“The story about Guy driving down to Chartwell to interview Churchill is true,” continued Blunt. “I’d heard it before, of course, and the story is well known, I think. Guy told it often enough in the Reform Club, especially when he was drunk. What is much less well known is that Guy did indeed pursue Churchill’s niece, Clarissa—now Mrs. Anthony Eden. I was vaguely aware of it at the time and of course I was surprised, to say the least, for the obvious reason. I certainly had no idea that he’d been put up to it by his Russian controller, Arnold Deutsch, code name Otto.”

“MI6 has, to the best of my knowledge, never heard of a Russian handler called Arnold Deutsch, code name Otto,” said Sinclair.

“Nor have I,” admitted Reilly. “He might have been one of the great illegals, I suppose. Those Trotskyist Communists not born in Russia who believed in the Comintern. But I thought I’d heard of all of them. No such man as Deutsch, Otto or Arnold, exists in our files. I’m certain of it.”

“How about you, Anthony?” asked Sinclair. “Ever heard of him?”

“No. I’ve never heard of him. Certainly there was no one I remember at Cambridge who fits that description. And none I remember who crossed Guy’s meandering, not to say erratic, path.”

“Of course,” added Reilly, “the Russians might readily own up to him now if he’s dead, murdered by Stalin back in nineteen thirty-eight—a few years after Guy says he was recruited to the NKVD—like most of the illegals. So that would make sense.”