Lies And Consequences Collection

Chapter 8

The Chancellery In Vienna

“In late November 1937, whilst the war in Spain raged on with ever increasing casualties and the emergence of a wide-reaching war in Europe was a foregone conclusion, a meeting took place in an office within the Chancellery of Austria, in Vienna. It had three high profile attendees with all the fuss and palaver that comes with such people and their travelling entourage. They were served their refreshments, requirements and everything else they asked for by a Jewish man, who for the sake of this story I"ll call Mr X. The guests I"ll call A and B and their host will be C. You may be able to work out who they were a bit later, that"s not so important as secrecy. I can"t imagine Trenchard not insisting on you becoming a signatory of the Official Secrets Act. I trust you are aware of the consequences of failing to comply with that Act of Parliament. Fianna has worked alongside us for a little while, so is aware of our rules. Any breech of that Act, or our rules, will be severely punished, Shaun.” He stared at both of us before continuing without waiting for a response.

“As the meeting drew to a close four females were introduced to the gathering on the insistence of guest A. Guest B made no complaint. After both guests had their fill of s****l pleasures guest A suggested younger participants to indulge themselves with, to which, to his only credit, guest B first declined. Guest A wanted young fair-skinned girls with blonde hair. It was the host who suggested the victims; one of whom was well known to Mr X. Despite strong but whispered protests from Mr X, Mr C would not change his views. C held his exalted position because of family connections and was seeking further patronage from A, willing to pander to any request. What then transpired between those girls and guest A, was condoned by both the host and guest B, who although as I said was initially reluctant, eventually gave in to temptation. I think your minds can fathom out what happened without me going on any further and spelling out the sordid details.

The girl that X knew, with her entire family, was hastily sent to America that night to join similar refugees from Austria who had emigrated long before this day. Unfortunately, that girl was pregnant. She gave birth to a healthy female child in August 1938. The child was kept. Unwisely, in my opinion!” The telephone we had passed in the passageway began to ring. He stopped speaking and checked his watch.

“Would you be a dear and get that, Fianna. I"m expecting Job to call with an all-clear.”

“Will do, boss,” she replied and left the room with a serious expression on her face.

“Just like you said, it was Job and everything is tickety-boo, boss.”

He picked up where he had left off.

“Mr X survived the war, being one of the very few lucky ones who had held a pre-invasion government position, to be completely unscathed or touched by Nazi hands. He came from a moderately wealthy family and was a forward-thinking man, having made friends with a Catholic priest when he heard of the execution of a very close friend; the father of the girl he knew. X was subsequently hidden by that priest when Austria acquiesced to German demands.” He paused, his previously unremitting poker face becoming etched with regret and sorrow.

“All four women along with the two other young girls who had been part of the obscenity of that day, were shot on the host"s instructions, with both guests looking on. All were Jewish! Mr X"s position within the Chancellery had given him a chance to save the pregnant girl and his skill at forgery saved her life. He changed the family"s name and their stated religion to Catholic, thereby extraditing their flight to freedom without any undue hassle.” Another pause.

“The father, X"s close friend who was murdered, of the two children of this family had died some several months before all this happened and the mother died a few years after arriving in America, but her son and daughter, plus the granddaughter, are all alive. The son has gone on to own and control a pharmaceutical company who are in talks to merge with a similar West German chemical giant as we speak. Those discussions have been going on for months and are drawing to a close. The host of that 1937 meeting also survived the war, being released from the concentration camp in which he was confined relatively free from suffering in 1945. He emigrated to America a year later and is the only living person outside of the family other than me to know the name of who r***d that thirteen-year-old along with the identity of the other guests. Both the German intelligence services and those of America are now closely delving into the family history. They only want suitable bed partners trading together, not ones with the history as told to me by Mr X in the Cafe Landtmann when I met him there in 1945. I had been sent to Vienna to bolster our newly appointed legation sorting through the various applications to travel to the UK. Three days after our meeting Mr X was hit by a car whilst crossing the road to Aspern airport on his way to start a new life. He never recovered consciousness from that assassination”

“Who killed him, Jack?” I asked.

His chair made a rubbing noise as he pushed it backwards and rose from the table.

“I have no idea, Shaun, but for our purposes we have put together a realistic story that fits. Now I must go, leaving the upstairs paperwork to fill in what I"ve omitted to answer of your questions. By this time tomorrow you will either be leaving England for America or walking away from my offer entirely. The choice lies with you and in what you will read. If you stay there is an element of danger with nobody beside you to make the instant decisions you will have to. Spontaneity and your ability to adapt will be your only weapons. If you leave then the question of what to do with you will arise. I"m hoping that no answer to that problematic situation will be needed.”

He opened a drawer of the sideboard and withdrew a buff-coloured file sealed by a blue ribbon, placing it on the table in front of me.

“Read what"s in here, Shaun.” He took his jacket which was hanging behind his chair and made to leave, before adding, “There are some "take-away" restaurant cards by the phone along with some money for incidentals in the other drawer here. Use what is necessary, but please, ask for receipts. There is a bottle of Jameson Irish whiskey in the kitchen. Try to leave some for when I return, I might need it.”

At that he left, walking in the now drizzling rain to a blue Vauxhall car parked about twenty yards away. He was alone when he drove off. Fianna and I were still seated at the table. I offered her a cigarette and took one myself.

“So, you know the details, Fianna and decided to stay. No implied threats required in your case. Is Fianna your real name, by the way?”

“That"s a yes to all of it, Shaun, and before you ask, the name Redden is real as well. The thing is, I changed back to my proper name from another that"s not important now. I"m in for the whole craic of the trip.”

“How do you know, Jack, Fianna?”

“I don"t really. Met him a few months ago when he approached me with his story.”

“And where were you when he made that approach?”

“I was being detained at Her Majesty"s pleasure.”

“Under an assumed name, I take it?”

“Ah, you are a wise one, Shaun. There you have me!”

“Which prison were you in?”

“No, I wasn"t in prison as such, Shaun, at least not when your man Mr Price found me. I was in one before I was released to a big fellow with scars on his face and a mean temper of a man. Now that came as a surprise, the release I mean, just settling in to the new prison, I was. He took me to a different kind of internment, without the bars and locks. I was told by Scarface that I"d be needed to do a job of work and he didn"t elaborate on what would happen if I didn"t. Had no need, if you"re following me.”

“Would that job be anything to do with a security van?”

“There we are again, you with your brains and all that. We"ve turn the square into a circle and danced in its centre, Shaun, me boy. An Irishman with the English name of Henry Acre was the chief Apache. I take it that"s the Irishman you shot dead. I met him the once and spun him the story I was told to tell. They were very thorough, Mr Price and Mr Scarface. Not too much detail, just enough to be convincing, they said. I was to be an Irish patriot with a love of the money and the drink. The background they gave me all stacked up to Acre"s satisfaction,” she winked.

Not too much detail, just enough to be convincing,“I haven"t far to look for the source of Jack"s tip-off to be in Charing Cross Road then!”

“No, about two foot away.”

“Was it Jack that planted you inside that team?”

“A girl gets a living wherever and from whomever a girl can, Shaun. You"re not going to give me some holier-than-thou speech, now are you? Cos if you are, I"m walking out.”

“No, I"m not, but where"s the incentive for you to do that kind of work?”

“I was inside for life, Shaun. Banged up in 1968 with no remittance for good behaviour. Smashing my head against the walls I was. I killed the man who killed my brother, but don"t you go worrying any, Shaun, as it was a Bridget Slattery who did the murder and the real reason was never divulged. The real Shaun went missing when he was eight. No dead body was found, but I knew what had happened. I waited nine years to find the priest who"d done it, but I never let on why it was I killed him. Wanted no sympathy from any b****y English court.”

“There are consequences to everything, especially if they"re violent. More men could have lost their lives because the robbery went ahead. The one that you and Jack set up.”

“Am I to feel sorry for that? As sorry as you are for shooting dear Henry dead, Shaun? If it"s floods of tears you be wanting then you"d be waiting for a long time as there will be none from me. I"m all dried up in that department. I don"t do crying anymore for anyone. Run for home and share your sorrow with the Met Police boyos if that be your wish.”

We continued our sparring in the kitchen which was as frugal as the rest of the downstairs part of the house. I could smell milk and cornflakes on her breath as I obeyed her orders, and she dried the cups that I had washed-up.

“Arrived earlier than me and shared breakfast with Jack, did you?” I asked somewhat annoyed and hungry.

“No, I was brought here last night. Getting first sight of what Mr Price referred to as functioning bedrooms; folding camp beds and an overhead light. There are blankets though. No frills up there, Shaun.”

“Start on the Scotch, did you, or can I have the honour of deflowering that?”

“Don"t let me stop you, but it"s not Scotch, it"s Irish. And also while you"re about it put away your testosterone for the ladies who might fall for your innuendos. I wasn"t made to propagate life. I prefer the company of females to that of the male gender. Be careful to put the seat down in the loo as well, that"s after you"ve made sure to lift it up when you wee. Very particular I am about such things.”

“A brother and sister relationship without i****t, well, I"m glad we"ve cleared that up. Save on the bruises from a camp bed. Was yours and Henry"s relationship so squeaky clean?”

“I can play roles when asked. Never said that I"d never been with a man, now did I? When I was growing up I had a fancy of being a film star. I had a flair for the acting, so I did. Perhaps, if things had been different, I might have got there, but at least I know where your affections lie. You like the pretty girls and the shooting of Irish terrorists with a boss named Trenchard squeezing your trigger finger. Is that the full pack of cards from me long lost brother so dear to me heart? Would you be on your way to prison if you hadn"t answered Jack"s call?”

“Might be better than a bullet in the head if I don"t fall in line with his suggestions that I"ve yet to read. Do you believe all that bullshit he just told us?”

I didn"t refer to the previous night nor how I"d come to know of Jack. It wasn"t suspicion that held back my full confession nor was it the fast approaching sense of doubting my newly acquired antecedents. It was, I think, a fear of two things: her displeasure of me and my acceptance of this new challenge too readily.

“From the little I know of Mr Price the one thing I"m sure he"s not is a bull-shitter, Shaun. You, on the other, I"m none too sure of.”

“Thank you!”

“You"re most welcome.”

“Why are you in for the ride, Fianna?”

“Oh, there"s many a reason for that, but perhaps if that daughter of Mr whatever letter he was is a lesbian, then I might just have a bit of fun to look forward to. Jack might want me to look after her in her time of trouble. I"m good at cuddles if it"s the right one I"m cuddling. But if you"re going with the expectation of killing someone, let"s hope it"s more than the lower half of your anatomy that"s loaded and it"s a g*n you"ll be carrying; as Mae West would say.”

“I don"t think that was quite what she said, sister dear.”

“Be away with yer. I knew that, you dumbhead.” The smile that filled her face was so bright that a book could have been read in the darkest of rooms from its light. I stood in its reflection and marvelled at her personality.

“Will it be the whiskey you"ll be wanting, or, shall I go to the shops and buy some food for me brother"s tea? I passed a grocery shop, not a distance away from that car you were so interested in when the motorbike brought you here. Don"t look so quizzical, Shaun. I was born nosy. It"s got me into trouble more than the once. Named O"Callahan"s, it was. The shop that is. Could be the real thing or the headquarters of the local Republican Army. Want me to see while you"re having that read? Ask about any Henry Acres being shot while I"m about it and who shot him, shall I?”

“Ha, b****y ha!” I replied, adding, “I"ll phone the local nick and ask about Bridget Slattery while you"re shopping me.”

“Shall we be leaving the past to the historians then, Shaun? Would that be your wish?” I nodded to that suggestion hoping it could be so.

“In the document you"ve read are there any names to the letters Jack quoted before he left, Fianna?”

“Only the one! The host of the gathering, Mr C, was a Kurt Schuschnigg. Mouthful there and no mistake.”