Blair in conversation with Det. Sgt Smith, Special Branch LAP.
Det. Sgt Smith: We are particularly interested in the man you saw this morning and so I am recording now in order to make a transcript that will keep your descriptions on record. Don’t give your answers in a formal way, don’t hesitate to correct anything after you have said it and don’t hurry; we have plenty of tape. Tell me first what drew your attention to this particular man.
PC Blair: He seemed very strong. He was working harder than I’ve seen any of the porters ever work (laughter). He sort of um lifted the um cases over into the van one in each hand. He did the whole load in about six journeys across the pavement.
Det. Sgt Smith: Tell me what he said when he saw you watching.
PC Blair: Well er like I told you he er I didn’t don’t er remember exactly the words he used but it was something like ‘How’s about a go at the old winter sporting’ but it was more American than that.
Det. Sgt Smith: Did you take him for an American?
PC Blair: No I told you I didn’t.
(4 seconds silence)
Det. Sgt Smith: (indistinguishable) … the tape.
PC Blair: He had a Cockney accent but he tried to talk with an American accent.
Det. Sgt Smith: And the words.
PC Blair: And the words he used were an American expression. Yes. I can’t …
Det. Sgt Smith: No matter. Go on about his appearance.
PC Blair: He was about medium height. Five ten, nine, about.
Det. Sgt Smith: Clothes?
PC Blair: He wore white overalls with a red badge here.
Det. Sgt Smith: (indistinguishable)
PC Blair: White overalls with a red badge over his left breast pocket. The overalls were dirty and so were his other clothes and that.
Det. Sgt Smith: Describe his other clothes.
PC Blair: He had a striped tie with a tinny sort of er cheap pin thing pinned into it like er pin. He er (4 seconds silence)
Det. Sgt Smith: Don’t hurry.
PC Blair: Had this funny hair, funny mousy-coloured hair.
Det. Sgt Smith: How was it funny do you mean?
PC Blair: It wasn’t a wig or anything but it was funny and after he had leaned over the van he touched his hair like er women do when they look into a glass.
Det. Sgt Smith: How do you know it wasn’t false?
PC Blair: Well there’s a man who goes to a pub I know who has false hair and you can tell here (pause) where his hair sprouts (laughter) at his forehead.
Det. Sgt Smith: You decided that he wasn’t wearing false hair after looking at his hair-line front and neck.
PC Blair: Yes. (long pause) I think. I think he was just a bit er vain about his hair. I think that’s all it was.
Det. Sgt Smith: Would you tell me about his face again?
PC Blair: Well he was a bit pale and he had these sort of er terrible sort of bad teeth and that. And a pair of black rim National Health type glasses.
Det. Sgt Smith: Tell me as you told me before.
PC Blair: His breath smelling?
Det. Sgt Smith: Yes.
PC Blair: Well that’s right. He had bad breath and these bad teeth. Black teeth.
(7 seconds pause)
Det. Sgt Smith: Is there anything you would like to add to that description? There’s no rush.
PC Blair: No there’s nothing. I can’t think of anything except (3 seconds pause) Well just to say he wasn’t a freak or anything. He was pretty normal looking I mean er I wouldn’t want to harp on anything of the things I’ve mentioned they I mean er he looked pretty ordinary I mean.
End of transcript from tape-band
Top copy of transcript to be signed by Det. Sgt Smith and PC Blair.
I read that transcript on the plane to Helsinki. It was more interesting than the pamphlet about inflating dinghies, but only just.
Pit, pat, well-a-day,
Little Robin flew away;
Where can little Robin be?
Gone into the cherry tree.
NURSERY RHYME
Under the armpit of Scandinavia, Finland fits like a gusset; and if this gusset was a piece of rotten calico then it would rip in the ragged shredded way that Finland has done. The rips are lakes. They are large and numerous and they contain islands that contain lakes that contain islands until the tatters of the coastline fray into the cold northern sea. But at this time of year there is no sea. For miles and miles the shadow of the aeroplane has flitted across hard shiny ice. It is only when a glimpse of brown forest is seen through the snow that one can be sure that the coast has been crossed.
I saw Signe standing among the red-roofed airport huts even before we landed, and while we taxied in she was running and waving and smiling a gigantic smile. As we walked towards an ancient Volkswagen she took my arm and rested too heavily upon it and asked if I’d brought her anything from London.
‘Only trouble,’ I said. She made me get in the driver’s side and we followed a Volga police car and did a careful legal speed all the way into town.
‘Did Harvey tell you to meet me?’ I asked.
‘Certainly not,’ said Signe. ‘He doesn’t tell me whether to go to meet my friends. Anyway he is in America. Conferring.’
‘Conferring about what?’
‘I don’t know. That’s what he said. Conferring.’ She grinned. ‘Turn left here and pull up.’
We entered that same comfortable flat off Siltasaarenk where I had met Harvey the previous week. Signe stood behind me and helped me off with my coat.
‘Is this Harvey Newbegin’s place?’
‘It is an apartment house that my father bought. He installed a mistress here. The girl was a White Russian of an aristocratic family. My father loved my mother but this girl Katya he loved foolishly; as she indeed loved him. Last year my father …’
‘How many fathers do you have?’ I said. ‘I thought he died of a broken heart when the Russians bombed Long Bridge.’
‘That wasn’t true about him dying.’ She ran the tip of her tongue along her upper lip as she concentrated. ‘He asked me to circulate the story of his death. Really, he and Katya … you’re not listening.’
‘I can listen and pour a drink at the same time.’
‘He went with