The Midnight Swimmer Read Online Free PDF Page A

pleased that his new ‘German’ friend remembered the names of the two dogs that the Russians had launched into space and safely recovered the previous summer. Then the Russian stopped smiling and looked at Catesby with what seemed a slight turn of suspicion.
    Catesby felt his stomach do a queasy flip. Had the Sovs actually announced the names of the bloody dogs or had he heard about them in a top secret briefing? He couldn’t remember.
    The Russian continued staring at him. His lips were moving as if he was rehearsing another German sentence. Finally, the Russian said, ‘And there were forty mice – and two rats as well. All come back safe and healthy.’
    ‘ Wunderbar, ’ said Catesby.
    Jutta half stifled a yawn with undisguised boredom.
    The Russian extended the cigarette packet to Catesby to offer him a fag. Catesby shook his head and touched his chest. ‘I don’t smoke. I’ve got a lung problem.’
    The Russian looked hurt. He hadn’t understood the words, only the refusal of proffered friendship. He seemed to withdraw into himself, and he stood aloof and silent for the rest of the journey. At first Catesby felt guilty for having loosened the fraternal bonds between the people of the DDR and their Soviet brothers, but then he remembered that was part of his job.
    When they got to Karlshorst all the Russians and a number of Germans got off the train. Catesby looked over Jutta’s shoulder to see through the window. The name of the station was also displayed in Cyrillic letters as if it were a terminus of the Moscow Metro. There were Soviet soldiers in uniform on the platform – and Catesby could see the tops of army trucks parked under the birch trees in the station car park. Karlshorst was not a normal Berlin suburb.
    For some reason the train remained stationary. Catesby was worried by the unexplained delay. He half expected to see a uniformed Vopo, an officer of the ‘People’s Police’, enter the carriage to check IDs. During ID checks the Vopos usually worked with a partner from the MfS, State Security Service, who was always dressed in a smart black leather jacket and grey trousers. The MfS types must have watched a lot of Bogart films, but they never pulled off the sardonic sexiness no matter how much they tried. Catesby was relieved when he finally heard the electric motors wheeze into life as the train started up and began to move.
    The carriage was now only a quarter full. As the train pulled out of the station a huge tank park full of T-34s was visible behind a chain link fence topped with barbed wire. Behind the tanks were grim rows of barracks in red brick. After Karlshorst and its dreary suburban backcloth, the train passed into a landscape of heath and woodland. The woods were mostly stunted pine and birch. The stops – Wuhlheide, Köpenick, Hirschgarten – were more village than suburb. The countryside between them had turned from sparse scrub into thick dark woodland. After Friedrichshagen the carriage was nearly empty.
    ‘It’s the next one,’ said Catesby.
    ‘I know,’ said Jutta as she buttoned up her jacket.
    Rahnsdorf was a completely lonely station in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Catesby and Jutta were the only passengers who alighted on the platform. Rahnsdorf was, thought Catesby, the ultimate ‘choke point’. No surveillance team could follow you there without giving themselves away. And none had.
    Once the train had wheezed away down the tracks they were completely alone. An eerie silence embraced them. Catesby loved silence. But he knew that some people feel threatened by it. They need to break silence with senseless talk or a radio station or a phonograph . He could see that Jutta was one of those. They descended the platform and crossed the tracks to a rusty gate. The gate squeaked when Catesby pushed it open and a jay screeched a harsh warning cry from the forest.
    Jutta grabbed Catesby’s sleeve. ‘What was that?’
    Catesby paused. It took him a few