Chapters (60)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Introduction
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Epilogue
- Glossary
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
‘No, perhaps not, Gerald. Anyway. I’m sure you didn’t ask me here to talk about cricket, fantastic result though it was.’
‘No. Quite right. Shall we go into the study? There’s a few briefing papers there I want you to take a look at.’
The younger man sat down where his superior indicated, in front of his desk.
‘We’ve got a bit of potential trouble in your neck of the woods, Robert, and we need it closing down. One way or another. It’s something that – if it got into the wrong hands – could cause a bit of a stink. Margaret is particularly worried.’
The younger man always found it slightly affected the way his superior referred to the Prime Minister as Margaret, as though she was a personal friend. They both knew she wasn’t. Behind the faux concern she could turn on with the slightest excuse – and the softly, softly voice – was an utterly ruthless politician. Brilliant – in some people’s eyes – but utterly ruthless. From a personal point of view, Robert couldn’t stand her. But then – despite what people assumed – he wasn’t really a Tory at all. His sympathies lay much further to the left. But in this day and age, it didn’t do to make that too public, especially in the Circus.
‘In the German sector?’
‘Exactly. Particularly the red side of the divide.’
‘I thought we were of the opinion that relations were thawing. The talks on medium-range missiles last year, Reagan lifting the grain embargo earlier this year. We almost seem to be heading into a period of détente.’
‘Perhaps, perhaps. But this isn’t really an East–West thing.’
‘No?’
‘No.’ The older man spread out some documents on the desk. ‘No, this is more a British–German thing, a historic thing really, something that should be left in the past. But unfortunately the East Germans are pushing their noses into things that don’t really concern them, or shouldn’t really concern them. So, as I say, we need it shutting down. It’s your job to come up with a strategy for that. Do you think you can do that, old man?’
‘Well, let’s have a look at all this and see what we can do, shall we?’
‘Aha. Not committing yourself there, then. Sensible chap. I doubt it’s that complicated though. As you’ll see, it concerns an academic being feted by the East Germans for some of his historic research.’
‘That seems a little . . . esoteric, shall we say?’
‘Well yes, and no. If it goes the way we expect it to go without any intervention, it could bring some pretty big names down. Alive and dead.’
‘Dead? Surely we’ve not entered the realms of protecting the reputations of the dead?’