Echobeat Read Online Free Page B

of a desk. The only light in the room came from a green-shaded art deco desk lamp. ‘Gentlemen.’ The man behind the desk stood up and introduced himself as Pól Ó Murchú and gave each of them a cursory handshake. He was approaching forty, gaining weight and balding, and the world’s many cares were beginning to etch his face. ‘The Secretary has been delayed’ – he paused as he sat down again and reconsidered the word – ‘detained with the Taoiseach. He asked me to brief you.’
    Duggan glanced at McClure at the mention of a briefing. McClure gave no indication of surprise as he extracted Duggan’s report from his file and passed it across the desk. Ó Murchú set it down in the centre of the light like a gourmand relishing the sight of a new dish. He took his time reading it, only touching it to turn the first page.
    ‘This man, Hermann Goertz,’ he put the first page back on top again and looked up from the list. ‘He’s the most important one?’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ McClure said. ‘As far as we’re aware. He has proved to be more elusive than the others too. More competent.’
    Ó Murchú read through the list again. ‘What about the espionage activities of the German legation itself?’
    ‘We’re not aware of any,’ McClure said. ‘Not of anything untoward. They meet a lot of people and are presumably collecting information, but we’re not aware that they are overstepping the line between diplomacy and espionage.’
    ‘Hmm,’ Ó Murchú sighed, ‘a fine line.’ He tapped the report with his middle finger. ‘Do any of these gentlemen have any dealings with the legation?’
    ‘Not to our knowledge, not on a regular basis.’ McClure hesitated. ‘Though their paths may cross on occasion. Captain Duggan herespotted Dr Goertz attending a reception in the German Minister’s home on one occasion.’
    ‘Ah,’ Ó Murchú brightened up. ‘Tell me more.’
    McClure signalled to Duggan, who said, ‘Dr Goertz was at a party in Herr Hempel’s house last June to celebrate their victory in France.’
    ‘And he would have had an opportunity then to speak to Herr Hempel himself?’
    ‘I presume so, sir,’ Duggan said. ‘I wasn’t in the building and can’t confirm that he did or didn’t. There were a lot of people there.’
    ‘Indeed,’ Ó Murchú nodded. ‘Including some of our own.’
    And ours, Duggan thought. Among those he had seen enter was Major General Hugo O’Neill, the man in charge of repelling any British move across the border. Along with some of the best-known people in the country.
    ‘Herr Hempel is a very careful and correct diplomat,’ Ó Murchú went on. ‘I imagine he keeps strictly to the rules. But what about the others in the legation?’
    ‘We try and keep track of them insofar as we can,’ McClure offered. ‘And insofar as can be done with discretion and without hindering their legitimate activities.’
    Ó Murchú gave him a look that said, I know exactly what those vague words mean: you have no idea what they’re up to.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ McClure said, interpreting the look correctly. ‘We weren’t aware that you were looking for information about the German diplomats. We had been told only that you wanted a report on the known German agents who’ve tried to operate here.’
    Ó Murchú settled back in his chair and rested his elbows on its arms and pressed his palms together in thought for a moment. ‘A delicate situation has arisen with the Germans,’ he began. ‘They want to expand the numbers at their legation, bring in three more people from Germany. Cultural attachés, commercial types, they say. In reality, ofcourse, they are more likely to be military types, intelligence agents. In a way it doesn’t matter what they are. What matters as usual is perception. And the British are almost certain to perceive any increase in German diplomatic strength here as a threat.’ He paused and looked from one to the other. ‘You know their attitude to the