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arrest Grünbaum, who precipitated a violent brawl in the café. During the brawl, one other man was seriously injured.
    When the police officers tried to arrest Grünbaum, he flew into a violent rage and began a vicious attack on Captain Mach. One of the other officers shot Grünbaum, who was taken to hospital, where he subsequently died of his wound. Captain Mach later said: “Grünbaum was a drunken, disreputable man. He was uncontrollably violent, and my officers defended me in the only practicable way…
    Wyman cut out the article and reread it. Whether or not the story consisted of lies or half-truths, one thing was certain: Josef Grünbaum was dead. That was of great interest to Wyman because Grünbaum had run a small network of spies in Erfurt. The information that Grünbaum had collected was passed on to the British Secret Intelligence Service, and Wyman was Grünbaum’s case officer.
    Wyman was a vague, untidy person. He gave the impression of being obscure and confused, and he was famed for his absent-mindedness. Certain unkind members of the Firm had suggested that he was suffering from a touch of premature senility. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Wyman’s memory was almost photographic, and his powers of reasoning and analysis were far better honed than most of his associates ever realized. The problem was that Wyman’s faculties were seldom required by the dreary mechanical work he was given. There were very few occasions on which he was required to think , but this was one of them. And he thought hard.
    He took off his glasses and screwed his eyes up tight in concentration. As he did so, he flicked back through a mental catalogue of dates, people and events. He reached for his pen, and began to scribble notes on his desk-pad. Within twenty minutes, three pages of scrawl adorned Wyman’s desk.
    He put his glasses back on and read through his notes. Having satisfied himself that nothing had been left out, he lit another cigarette and drank the cold dregs of his coffee.
    All thoughts of his dismissal from the College, or Margaret’s pregnancy, or even the Daily Telegraph crossword, had been banished. A new problem had arisen, and Wyman was totally immersed in it. He picked up his telephone and dialled an internal number that connected him with MI6 headquarters on London’s South Bank.
    â€œHello, this is Wyman at the Department. Could you put me through to Newspaper Records please…yes, I’ll wait…Hello, George? This is Michael at the Department…very well, thank you. And how are you keeping?…Splendid. I need something to be sent here as soon as possible, if you can manage it…Copies of a DDR paper, the Thüringer Neueste Nachrichten for all of last October, December and January…Yes, all of them. If you could give them to one of the messengers and tell him to bring them here at once, I’d be immensely grateful…That’s marvellous. Thanks awfully, George… Yes, definitely. Cheerio.”
    Wyman put the telephone down and looked out of his window at the London sky. It was still bloody cold out there, he reflected, but at least it was sunny.

Chapter Seven
    F ROM: Compendium of Anglo/US Intelligence Systems (Classified) 1972 page 47, Section 2.
INTELLIGENCE GROUPS: CATEGORY F
    Such groups consist exclusively of Eastern bloc civilians recruited before 1958. Their primary function is to report the activities of military and civilian administrators in zones otherwise inaccessible to NATO scrutiny.
    Type-F networks are more rigidly structured than networks in other categories: individual members of the network deal exclusively with the Group Leader; their identities are known only to him and the appropriate British or US department. (See p. 71, “Allocation of Network Parentage”.)
    Group Leaders of Category F networks communicate solely with their British or US case officers. They are funded and