'Serious crimes,' said Renn.

'What sort of crimes are serious crimes?'

'The charges against Colonel Moskvin are something it is better we did not discuss.'

'I heard that the Colonel has many influential enemies in Moscow,' said Fiona.

Renn stood still. For a moment Fiona thought he would murmur some excuse and leave the office – he'd done that before when she had persisted with questions he would not answer – but he didn't do that. Renn went round the desk and stood by her side. 'Major Erich Stinnes is in London leading the English secret service by the nose and creating the sort of havoc I could not even guess at; Colonel Moskvin is also in England supporting the operation. Moscow was very unhappy at the death of the Englishman in the house in Bosham: Colonel Moskvin overstepped his authority. It is because he is unavailable that the inquiry has been staged at this time. The problem the Colonel faces is that if the London operation goes well, Major Stinnes will get the credit for his courage, skill and ingenuity. If anything goes wrong Colonel Moskvin's support will be blamed.' Renn looked at her then hurried on, 'And so meanwhile you are left the most powerful officer in the section.' Renn looked at her; she still hadn't fully understood, so he went on. 'Lieutenant Bakushin sees that. He will take evidence from you on the understanding that you see it too.'

'You mean Bakushin will expect me to give evidence that will help to convict Colonel Moskvin of whatever it is he's accused of so that I take command?'

'Frau Direktor, wild rumours are going round. Some say Colonel Moskvin has been a long-term agent for the British. Mrs Keller is also accused: perhaps you remember her from my birthday party. She fled to the West with her son, using what are believed to be forged United Kingdom passports.' Renn smiled to relieve the tension he felt. 'I am confident that the Moscow inquiry will find Colonel Moskvin innocent; he has friends and relatives highly placed in Moscow. I know how the system works. The Lieutenant is simply collecting evidence for the inquiry. It will be expedient to show caution when you talk with him.'

Fiona took a deep breath. 'Have you ever read Alice in Wonderland, Herr Renn?'

'It's an English book? No, I think I have not read it.' He dismissed discussion of the book politely but hurriedly. 'But Frau Direktor, this means you must decide about the meeting in Holland. There is no one else who can sign the orders. With both Colonel Moskvin and Major Stinnes unavailable we need someone senior with fluent English. I hope it won't mean getting someone from another unit.'

'Not if we can avoid it,' said Fiona. 'But surely, Herr Renn, you understand my hesitation.'

'You will go?' said Renn.

'I don't think so,' said Fiona. She wanted to go; a trip to the West – just to breathe the air for twenty-four hours – would give her a new lease of life.

'If it's the risk of arrest, I can arrange for you to travel on diplomatic papers.'

'No.'

'Who else is there?'

She looked at him. She'd thought about it and been tempted, but now that Renn asked the direct question she had no answer ready. 'I would have to clear it with Normannenstrasse. They would have to know.'

Renn picked up a plastic box of floppy disks that was on Fiona's desk waiting for the messenger and toyed with it. 'I really would advise against that, Frau Direktor,' said Renn, his eyes averted and his face red with the embarrassment of such direct rebellion.

'Checking with them,' explained Fiona. Technically we all come under their orders.'

'Frau Direktor, to seek instruction from Normannenstrasse, and on a matter which is entirely operational, would be creating a very important precedent. A dangerous precedent.' He shook the box of floppy disks: it rattled. 'Whatever happens in the career of Colonel Moskvin and Major Stinnes this department will I hope continue to function in the way it has done for twelve years or more. But if you ask Normannenstrasse to give you permission for something as normal as the trip to Holland, you'll be virtually putting us under their authority. What would happen in the future? No one here will enjoy anything like independence in any of the work we do. We might as well talk of closing the unit down and going to work in Normannenstrasse.'

She took the box of disks from his fingers and put it back on her desk. Then she looked down at her notepad as if returning to her work. 'I wouldn't want to do that, Herr Renn. You've already told me how much you hate that mad scramble for the Magdalenenstrasse U-Bahn.'

Hubert Renn stiffened and his lips were compressed. By now Fiona should have learned that the sort of joshing that is a normal part of the conversational exchanges in British or American offices did not go down well in Germany. 'But, Frau Direktor…'

'Just a joke, a silly joke,' said Fiona. 'I will of course do exactly as you advise, Herr Renn.'

I'll prepare your papers?'

'Yes, I'll go.' She watched him as he collected together the work he'd done. Hubert Renn was, despite his protestations to the contrary, a complex personality. She'd not yet got over the way in which he was able to reconcile his anti-Russian prejudices with his uncritical dedication to Marx and all his works.

Was Renn's advice – to assume authority beyond what was really hers and use it to make the journey abroad – the bait in some new and nasty trap that her enemies were setting for her? She thought not but she couldn't be sure. Careful, Stefan! No one could be quite sure of anything over here. That was the most important thing she'd learned.

She stood up. 'And there remains the matter of the doctor at the Charité Hospital?'

'Yes, Frau Direktor. These things always take a long time. There is a note on your desk.'

'The note says only that it was all in order.'

Renn came to her side and said, 'Yes, good news, Frau Direktor. Herr Doktor Kennedy is completely clear. Even more than clear: a fellow-traveller. We have used him for some minor tasks in London. He would probably have been used for more important work, except that he'd joined the party when he was a medical student.'

Fiona felt ill. She sat down in her chair again. For a moment she couldn't get her breath. Then she was able to mutter, 'The Communist Party?' Thank God she'd never confided in Kennedy; more than once she'd felt like doing so. He seemed such a dedicated capitalist with his airplane sales and deliveries, but that of course would be a good cover and, as she knew from her day-to-day work, the KGB financed thousands of such businesses to provide cover for agents.

'Yes. What a shame that no one saw his potential and warned him from doing that. Party members cannot, of course, be used for important tasks.'

'Any dates?'

'Nothing since July 1978. Mind you, we have both seen recently how slack the clerks can be when filing the amendments.'

Her head began to throb and she felt sick. 'What did he do for us?'

'Details of that sort are not entered on our files. London Residency would have filed that directly to Moscow. I would guess it to have been surveillance or providing accommodation or arranging references: that's the sort of job such men are used for.'

So that was it: July 1978, a month before the 'accidental' meeting on Waterloo Station. She'd warned Martin off and so Moscow had simply found another way to monitor her. Yes, that would be time enough for Harry to be briefed and prepared. So Harry Kennedy had been assigned by Moscow to check up on her. Was that to be his role in Berlin too? 'Nothing since 1978?'

'Shall I ask Moscow if he is still under instructions?'

'No, Herr Renn, I don't think that would be wise.'

He looked at her and saw that she was not feeling well. 'Whatever you say, Frau Direktor.' He picked up some papers and tactfully left the room.