They carried their drinks to their respective desks and sat down. ‘How did you get into work this morning?’ Freda asked, taking a sip of her tea.
‘Beryl was driving the taxi last night, and as luck would have it, she had an early morning pick up in Bitteswell, so she called for me on the way and dropped me off. What is this,’ Ena said, laughing, ‘some sort of interrogation?’
On Wednesday morning, Ena found a letter addressed to her among the post. It was from Ben Johnson asking when she would next be visiting her friend in Bletchley. She slipped into her handbag and at lunchtime, read it again. She was taking work down to Bletchley on Friday and wondered if she should write and tell him.
‘Penny for them?’
‘What? Oh, my thoughts. Nothing in particular,’ she lied.
Freda eyed her with playful suspicion. ‘Are you sure?’
‘All right. Yes. I was thinking about someone I met recently.’
‘I thought as much. You’ve been quiet all morning. Come on then,’ her friend said, nudging Ena’s arm, ‘spill the beans.’
Omitting anything to do with Bletchley and having her case stolen – and pretending it was on the train from Bletchley to Rugby that she met her American friend and not in the buffet on Euston station – Ena told Freda everything she knew about Ben, which wasn’t much.
‘So when are you seeing him again?’
‘I don’t know. He works in London. But he said he had an aunt in Bletchley who he visits now and again, and that if ever I was in that part of the world to get in touch.’ Ena took a bite of her sandwich. ‘I don’t suppose he meant it.’
‘You’re in that part of the world at the end of this week. How will you let him know?’
‘By letter. He gave me his address.’ Ena looked at her friend who was nodding in an exaggerated fashion. Ena laughed. ‘All right, I’ll write to him. But I’d better do it now, so it goes in the lunchtime post, or he won’t have time to arrange cover where he works.’
The two friends returned to the annexe, giggling like schoolgirls. Before she settled down to work, Ena wrote a short note to Ben. She looked at her wristwatch. If she was lucky, she would make the lunchtime collection. She did, just.
‘I’m going to Beaumanor again on Friday,’ Freda said, turning up her nose. ‘It takes hours on the train. And they collect me from Loughborough station in a bloody troop carrier. It isn’t so bad when I drive up in Mr Silcott’s car. Even so,’ she sighed, ‘I wish I could come down to Bletchley with you.’
Ena wished Freda was going to Bletchley too. She wasn’t looking forward to travelling on the train on her own. But there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Perhaps we can go together next time.’
‘Yes! Then I can meet your American.’
‘He isn’t my American,’ Ena said, blushing.
‘But you wish he was, don’t you?’
The next morning, Ena and Freda met at the factory gates. After parking their bicycles, they walked to the factory, entered by the main door and walked across the shop floor to the annexe. Mr Silcott was at his desk.
Knowing the real reason why her boss had been off work, Ena held back a little to let Freda greet him first.
‘Herbert!’ Freda gushed, ‘Thank goodness you’re better.’
‘Good to have you back, Mr Silcott,’ Ena said.
‘Thank you.’ Herbert Silcott nodded as Ena drew level. ‘It is good to be back. And thank you,’ he said, looking from Ena to Freda, ‘for holding the fort while I’ve been off sick.’
‘You are better?’ Ena asked, concerned that her boss looked extremely pale, had dark shadows under his eyes, and appeared to have lost weight.
‘I’m fine, thank you. I’ve been fit enough to come back for days, but Mrs Silcott wouldn’t have it.’ Ena smiled that she understood.
Freda fussed about, offering to make cups of tea and asking if Herbert would like anything from the canteen. He said he didn’t want any food but would like a cup of coffee. There was a tin of tea, dried milk and sugar in the cupboard, but no coffee. So, promising not to be long, Freda dashed off to the canteen.
‘I’ve spoken to Commander Dalton,’ Mr Silcott said as soon as Freda was out of earshot. ‘He tells me he wants you to take the work to Bletchley tomorrow.’ Ena nodded. ‘I’ll be with you of course. I wouldn’t let either of you travel to the Park alone. Not after what happened last time. I feel responsible--’
‘You shouldn’t, sir. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.’
‘That’s as maybe, but it won’t happen again. I shall be on my guard in future.’
Ena looked at her boss’s gaunt face. ‘Are you sure you’re fully recovered, sir?’
‘I’m fine. What about you? They drugged you, the commander said.’
‘Yes. There’s no other explanation for what happened.’
‘Horace Dalton had you put through your paces by his intelligence people, I understand.’ Herbert Silcott didn’t pause for Ena to reply. ‘Bloody man!’ He looked briefly at the door. ‘The petrol coupons,’ he whispered, ‘came through this morning, before you arrived, but I shall take them home. Commander Dalton wants us to travel to Bletchley on the same train as before. Don’t worry, we shall go to the ticket office together and board the train at the same time. I will not leave you on your own for a single second.’
Ena’s heart sank. If Mr Silcott stuck to his word, there would be no chance of her seeing Ben. ‘You’re sure you’re well enough, Mr Silcott?’
He put his hands on either sides of his ribcage, pressed slightly and breathed in. ‘The damage to my ribs wasn’t as bad as the hospital first thought. My body is still black and blue, and my ribs are still bound up, but they are only badly bruised, not broken. I had concussion from the blow to my head. Because of it I was seeing double, which worried the doctors. … I just couldn’t shake it off,’ he said, loudly, ‘I thought I’d never feel well again.’ Ena hadn’t a clue what her boss was talking about until she spotted Freda, carrying a cup of steaming coffee.
Ena left her colleagues to it and went to her own work desk. Damn! Why had she written to Ben telling him she’d meet him on Friday? Unable to concentrate, she slumped back in her chair. What if she got a letter off this afternoon, explaining that her boss would be with her at Bletchley and she wouldn’t be able to get away to meet him. These days there was no telling when post arrived at its destination. And even if the second letter was delivered tomorrow, he might already have left London for Bletchley, in which case he wouldn’t see it. But it was a risk she would have to take.
Ena took a writing pad and pen from her desk and wrote a short note. Reading it back to herself, satisfied that the message had conveyed her disappointment in not being able to meet Ben, she put it in an envelope and stuck a stamp on it. ‘Be back in a minute,’ she called, picking up several letters from the post tray and taking them to the post box.
On the train to Bletchley, Ena told Mr Silcott everything that had happened on the day her work was stolen.
‘Some parts of the X-board would have been almost impossible to copy for anyone who didn’t know what they were doing. I can only think whoever stole it had worked on the same, or similar, boards before – perhaps in another factory. But what really bothers me, what I still don’t understand,’ she confided, ‘is how the thieves were able to make an identical case to the ones we use. Perhaps it wasn’t identical, but it was good enough to pass as one of ours when it was signed in at Bletchley Park.’
‘They must have been watching you, Ena, sizing up the case.’
‘What, travelling on the same train as I did? On the occasions we didn’t take the work down by car? A bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?’ Mr Silcott nodded thoughtfully. ‘No,’ Ena said, ‘I’m convinced someone at Bletchley Park was in on it.’
‘The commander mentioned something about that,’ Herbert Silcott said.
Ena bit her lip. ‘He wasn’t very happy at the suggestio
n. Did he tell you I had met an American in the buffet on Euston station?’ Mr Silcott nodded and smiled. ‘He was very kind to me. Of course, the commander could only see a German spy who befriended me to turn me. That’s the phrase they use in popular spy thrillers, isn’t it?’
Ena sighed. ‘He invited me to tea today,’ she said, ‘when I finish at the Park. And no, before you ask, he doesn’t know I have anything to do with Bletchley Park. I stuck to the cover story. Anyway it doesn’t matter now. I wrote yesterday and said I couldn’t make it.’
‘That’s a shame, Ena,’ Mr Silcott said, ‘You spend so much time at work, and often on your own, being taken out for tea by a young man would be a nice treat. Still, if he’s a decent sort, he’ll invite you out again.’
Ena hoped he would. She also told Mr Silcott about Henry Green being in the room with Commander Dalton and the engineers, and how he had vouched for her to the commander. Mr Silcott knew Henry, as Ena’s family did. Henry’s father was the only butcher in Lowarth, and he and Herbert Silcott regularly played golf together.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Herbert Silcott and Ena took the case containing the work to reception, showed the security officer their passes and work permits, and Mr Silcott signed his name – adding the time and date as proof of when the work was delivered.
‘Commander Dalton is expecting you, sir... Miss Dudley,’ the officer said. ‘If you’d like to go on through…’
Leaving the case of work with the officer to take to Bletchley’s engineers, Ena and Herbert Silcott made their way along the familiar corridors to Commander Dalton’s office. Ena knocked on the door.
‘Enter.’
‘Welcome,’ the commander said, striding over to meet Mr Silcott at the door. ‘And Miss Dudley. Thank you for coming down today. Come in, come in. Take a seat, both of you.’
When they were seated at Commander Dalton’s desk, he opened a folder, looked at it for a moment, and then slowly closed it. Spreading his fingers wide, he laid his hands palms down on top of the folder as if to protect it. He looked from Herbert Silcott to Ena. ‘More work has been sabotaged,’ he said at last.
‘When? Where did it come from?’ Ena asked.
‘We have several X-boards in reserve, as back-ups. They’re routinely checked, but not often enough it seems. Our engineers were checking them against their blueprints, as you had done, Ena, when they came across anomalies in two of the boxes. The rotors were signed, and remained correct.’ The commander raised his eyebrows and Ena held her breath. ‘However, the wiring in the selector wheels had been deliberately muddled.’
‘Do you want me to check them?’
‘Thank you, but no. We’ve decided to leave them as they are. Two clever young women in Hut 3 are going to try to unscramble the results. It will take hours – rendering any recovered text useless, because by then it will be out of date. But we must try, and we must carry on as normal. We don’t want whoever is doing this to know we’ve cottoned onto them.’
Ena frowned. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, sir, why did you bring me down here, if you don’t want me to check the work?’
‘To ask for your help in another matter.’
‘Anything, Commander,’ Ena said, sitting forward, ready to hear her instructions.
‘I want you to find out who is sabotaging your work. It has to be someone from Silcott Engineering.’ Ena opened her mouth to defend her workmates. ‘Or,’ the commander said, raising his voice, which stopped her interrupting, ‘someone from Bletchley Park.’
‘But… How? What can I do?’
‘I am sure that you did not sabotage your own work, or anyone else’s. As that is the case, you and Herbert are the only people outside Bletchley that I can trust.’
‘I’m glad you believe us innocent, sir.’ Ena felt the heat of a blush rise to her cheeks.
‘I haven’t actually found Herbert innocent,’ the commander said with a wry smile, ‘but as he was in a hospital bed, I think we can eliminate him from our enquires.’ Ena looked from the commander to Mr Silcott. The commander’s lips were twitching, and her boss was doing his utmost to look serious.
‘Seriously, my dear, there is only one person who I am sure did not sabotage your work – and that is you,’ Commander Dalton said. ‘Your blood and urine tests showed traces of a rare sleeping draught that’s used by veterinary surgeons to put animals to sleep. I was told it is difficult to administer, so it is added to treats. An incorrect dosage could have been fatal.’
Ena felt a wave of heat surge through her. ‘Fatal?’ She thought for a moment, hardly able to take in what the commander had said. ‘You mean I could have died?’
‘But you didn’t, my dear. Thank goodness, you didn’t,’ Herbert Silcott said, patting Ena’s arm.
‘If you don’t mind me saying, Mr Silcott, that isn’t the point. I could have…’ Ena shuddered. Herbert Silcott opened his mouth to speak but she didn’t give him the chance. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Silcott, but some damn spy almost beat you to death, and nearly killed me! The only reason I’m here today is because of my good luck and his bad judgement. One or two grains more of whatever it was he gave me and I’d be dead.’ Tears pricked at the back of Ena’s eyes, but she was damned if she was going to weaken and cry. She turned to Commander Dalton and looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘What do you want me to do, sir?’
‘Nothing for now. Just be yourself. Go about your business as normal. Stick to your routine. Don’t make any changes to the plans you’ve already made, especially not to plans that involve other people. Whatever you were going to do here today, or somewhere else later, do it.’ The commander leaned forward and resting his elbows on his desk, made a steeple of his fingers. ‘And while you are being yourself, be vigilant. Keep your eyes and ears open. Watch and listen to everyone. You’re a pretty young woman, if a man smiles at you, smile back.’ Ena was about to react to his suggestion, but thought better of it.
Dalton sat up, put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a ten-shilling note. ‘Take this,’ he said, pushing it across the table to Ena. ‘Ask him, or her, but preferably him. Women carry handbags, so are more likely to have the change in them. Men on the other hand only have pockets, so are less likely to carry a lot of change around.’
Ena was baffled. Thinking she had missed something, she said, ‘What is the money for?’
‘The telephone. Ask for change for the telephone! Ten shillings in change would be too much to carry about, so chances are a man will be chivalrous and give you a few coppers.’ Ena felt a dull ache behind her eyes from frowning. She blinked a couple of times and shook out her hair. ‘Then, the next time you see that person, you give them what they lent you back.’ The commander looked pleased with himself. ‘It’s a good way to meet people.’
‘Get to know the people here, join in their conversations. Listen for anything you think irregular, out of the ordinary. I can’t tell you who to listen to or what to look for, but if you see anything you think is unusual, questionable, out of character, however small or insignificant you think it is, I want to know about it. All right?’ Ena nodded. ‘Make mental notes of anything that doesn’t ring true. Especially if it is something done by someone you have recently met. Someone who has befriended you. Practice on your young American. I believe he is taking you to tea today?’ The commander looked at his watch, ‘In an hour.’
‘Excuse me?’ Ena was furious that Ben had been dragged into this. ‘I can assure you that my American, as you call him, has nothing to do with any of this. It’s immaterial anyway,’ she said tersely, ‘I wrote and cancelled our appointment.’
‘He didn’t get the letter, I’m afraid.’
‘How do you know?’
‘How I know is not important. What is important is that Mr Johnson will be waiting for you in the station buffet as arranged. He probably came to England at the beginning of ’42, so you could use Pearl Harbor as an opening.’ Ena felt anger boiling up inside her. ‘I really don’t care how you do i
t, just find out as much as you can about him. I’d like to know exactly what he does at the Ministry of Defence, if indeed he works there at all.’
‘You intercepted my letter to him, so you know he works there.’ The commander raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak.
Exasperated, Ena said, ‘Why would he tell me to write to him at the MoD in Whitehall if he didn’t work there? What would be the point? He wouldn’t get my letters. He wouldn’t have got the letter telling him I was coming to Bletchley today if he didn’t work at the ministry, but you said he did. So how can you doubt that he works there?’
The commander looked at Ena, his eyes hard and unflinching. ‘Because no one by the name of Benjamin F. Johnson works for the Ministry of Defence in London.’ Ena’s mouth fell open with shock. ‘What I am about to tell you stays in this room, Miss Dudley, is that clear?’
‘Yes,’ Ena said, looking from the commander to Mr Silcott and back again.
‘Your friend could be with American Intelligence. The Office of Strategic Services are working with our Military Intelligence, which could explain why he isn’t listed as working for the MoD. However, until we know that for sure, we must assume he is a threat to British security and find out as much as we can about him. That is your job. Do you understand?’
Ena dropped her head, giving a faint nod.
‘If you would rather not be involved in this investigation, you must say so now, Miss Dudley, because once you leave this office I shall expect you to see the job through to its conclusion, whatever that is.’
‘I want to carry on. I need to clear my name and the names of the people I work with.’
The commander looked at Ena for a long minute. ‘I need to be a hundred percent certain you are not going to change your mind, Ena. I need to know you are not going to turn around somewhere along the line and say you won’t investigate Mr Silcott, say, if something suspicious happens, or your colleague, Miss King.’ Ena looked at Mr Silcott, nodded that she understood, and he gave her an encouraging smile. ‘You have to be fully committed or you are no good to me, or the job.’
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