by Behn, Noel;
SUBJECT:
POEMS
TO:
UNCLE MORRIS
FROM:
SWEET ALICE
SAM ONLY IN FIVE EDITIONS. THIRD ONE MISSING.
Rone thought for a moment. Then he went back over the preceding two pages.
The man had closed his eyes but when he heard Rone stir he said, “Let’s hear these.”
“First of all, I made a slight mistake,” Rone began. “I assumed that the A&P represented all American agencies. I now see that it is only one. And I don’t know which one it is. But the library is another agency. Uncle Morris first asked what the A&P had on its shelves, or what agents it had available, next he asked what the library or librarian had in the way of poems. So the library is the second agency and poems are a specific type of agent they must have. But I’m not sure what ‘poems’ or these particular titles signify.”
“Try and figure it out.”
Rone paused. “The library probably carries novels, plays and nonfiction as well as poems. On that assumption I would say poems or poetry are specialized agents, individualists of some kind. And perhaps these agents are slightly outdated or old-fashioned—the titles mentioned are mostly standard, things that have been around a long time. Possibly agents out of the OSS days; maybe not. I’m not sure.”
“What would the names represent?”
“I’m not sure of that either,” Rone began. “Annabel Lee lives near the sea or ocean—in a kingdom by the sea. Maybe she’s associated with naval affairs or possibly islands.”
“Or invasions?”
“Yes, maybe invasions,” Rone concurred. “J. Alfred Prufrock? Well, once again I’m not sure. Perhaps it has something to do with prostitutes?”
“Or possibly the author?”
Rone thought a moment. “An American living in England? Of course. An American agent who passes as an Englishman!”
“And Sam McGee?”
Rone began to recite:
“Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the
cotton blooms and blows,
Why he left his home in the South to roam
’round the Pole, God only knows.
“The poles—the North pole. The far north. Both Sam McGee and the author spent time in the Yukon or the far north. Our man operates or did operate in far northern areas. That’s his specialty. But he couldn’t speak the right language—the ‘third edition.’ Each edition represents a certain strategic language. The language of a far northern country. A country that could be approached from, or borders on, the far north. That could be China or Manchuria—or Russia.”
Rone was suddenly aware that he spoke both Chinese and Russian.
For the first time since Charles Rone had started reading, the man turned and looked at him. “Let’s get something to eat,” he said, rising.
2
Toothless Tony and Featherless Fred
Only single seats were available in the dining car. The man joined a table at the far end. Rone was placed with an elderly couple and their grandson.
Rone’s lost commission and his session with the admiral were almost out of his mind. The three young men, who must still be wandering down a corridor somewhere or other, really didn’t matter. It was the sunburned man and the cablegrams that held his attention. Everything he had seen today was a travesty of established intelligence procedure as he knew it. The last straw was the quiet man at the end of the dining car. And the messages which were not even classified.
When they had left the compartment the man had thrown the folders on the seat and left the door unlocked. Rone had pointed out that anyone could walk in and take them, and anything else for that matter. The man had simply answered, “Let them.” Rone volunteered to stay behind and guard the room. The man was quite emphatic about not eating alone, so off to the dining car both of them went. Rone had concluded that obviously the three young men were in the vicinity and would be watching the compartment.
The elderly couple, and the child left the table just as the train was reaching the Charlotte station. The waiter placed a cup and a silver coffeepot in front of Rone and left before he could ask for cream. His mind drifted back to the messages. He felt something was wrong, that he had overlooked something quite obvious. He looked out on the slow, swirling crowd of people on the floodlit platform below and saw his three escorts passing by with his Valpac. They weaved through the masses and disappeared into the station.
“Something wrong?”
He turned back to the table. The man was seated opposite him smoking a thin cigar and pouring a cup from Rone’s coffeepot.
“My grip just got off the train.”
“I’ll give you some of my stuff.”
“And now no one is guarding the room.”
“Have some coffee. Is there any cream?”
Rone didn’t answer. He held his cup as the man poured in the tepid black fluid.
“You did very well with those messages. Better than I thought you would.”
“I spent some time in crypto.”
“I know.”
“Something still doesn’t fit.”
“You got most of it.”
“But not all. Uncle Morris and Sweet Alice still don’t make sense.”
“Why worry about it?”
“Why not?” asked Rone. The man was silent. “Something’s wrong with Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris.”
“Let’s get back to the room.” The man threw down some money and got up.
When they returned to the compartment the beds had been made up and Rone found the entire contents of his grip laid neatly out on the blankets. Beside them was a small suitcase which was obviously meant to replace his bag. He noticed that a black metal box which he hadn’t seen before was sitting on the man’s bunk.
“I think I know what it is that’s wrong,” Rone suddenly said.
“Let me hear.”
“At first I thought Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris were part of an established organization. They could have been code names for a department or even an agent in that organization. The main reason for this was that their names did not correspond with the others in the messages. In other words, names such as Pepper Pot, Annabel Lee and Sam McGee are all descriptive of what that person is. They tell us about his function or specialty. But Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris do not. That’s why I assumed that they were special departments or networks of major agencies. They were like a telephone exchange, not a number. In fact I was sure they were not even people.
“But several factors made me realize that they could not be agencies or even agency-controlled. First of all, these are original copies of cablegrams.”
“They could be interdepartmental memos.”
“But they’re not. They’re the originals. If they were memos they’d be marked ‘top secret’ or have some other classification. But none of this material is classified. Yet this is obviously a top-secret case—or even higher. Not only the body of the messages point to that, but the whole method of bringing me here is evidence of great urgency and great secrecy. Classifications such as secret or confidential or top secret or their equivalents are used by every major intelligence operation I’ve ever heard of. In any of those operations there are so many people involved that you have to specify who will see what. But in this instance no one seems worried about that—because they know just who will see it. They don’t have the bureaucracy of the major operations. I must therefore assume they are independent of them.”
“That’s a nice assumption. But I don’t think a lack of classification can really justify your conclusions.”
“That’s only part of it,” Rone continued. “The use of cablegrams in the first place is rather unusual. Most major organizations have their own communication facilities. And they are restricted facilities. They’re also quite capable of handling both domestic and international traffic. If these organizations were involved why would they bother to risk the faulty security of commercial communications? I don’t think
they would. These messages are more like two men communicating than two agencies—and they are talking about a highly sensitive case. At times I have the feeling they don’t want the major agencies to know anything about it.
“But there’s a third thing that convinces me this is not a standard agency procedure. The messages were not in code. The meaning is obscure, but not crypt. Now, on the assumption we are talking about a very big case, a standard organization would send everything in code and the messages would be decoded and classified. The method of communication used in these messages suggests an individual agent who might not have the time or the knowledge to code his message.”
“Did it ever occur to you that the case might not be as important as it seems?”
“I thought of that,” Rone admitted. “But I had to eliminate it on two or three specific counts. First my own discharge. From what I gather, a source above both the Navy and possibly the Defense Department arranged it, and that kind of power is seldom used on routine cases. Why they want me I don’t know, but the method by which I was secured is rather revealing.
“Another indication of the importance of the case is that whoever Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris are, they think nothing of swooping down and grabbing personnel from whatever organization they choose. We see that quite plainly in the case of the A&P and the library. If those groups had anybody these two wanted I bet they would have had them with no questions asked.
“The third thing that points to this being an important case are the dates on the messages. Six messages were sent from September 18 to September 20, six messages that required hundreds of hours of research and paperwork. Under ordinary situations this much work would take ten days or, at the least, a week. But this was done in three days. No, when Uncle Morris and Sweet Alice get into the picture things start to happen. And when Uncle Morris tells us that ‘the stew is cooling’ I have the feeling something very serious is happening.”
“Then you think that Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris are individual agents?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” replied Rone. “They are either part of a small, powerful organization that behaves very much like an individual agent, or they are individual agents who have the strength and connections of a powerful organization.”
“Why not continue your homework?” said the man, holding out another folder.
Rone opened it.
EXHIBIT:
7
DATE: SEPTEMBER 21
SUBJECT:
POEMS
TO:
SWEET ALICE
FROM:
UNCLE MORRIS
STEW IS FREEZING. CAN YOU BRING OUT THE HIGHWAYMAN?
Rone saw that the situation was getting worse. He turned the page.
EXHIBIT:
8
DATE: SEPTEMBER 22
SUBJECT:
POEMS
TO:
UNCLE MORRIS
FROM:
SWEET ALICE
BOOK BANNED IN BOSTON. DOUBT IF CENSORS WILL GIVE IN.
The Highwayman was taboo. He wondered who the censors were. Apparently there were forces more powerful than Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris. He turned the page.
EXHIBIT:
9
DATE: SEPTEMBER 22
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
SWEET ALICE
FROM:
UNCLE MORRIS
VOLUME A NECESSITY.
Rone noticed that the subject had changed. He also felt that Uncle Morris had made up his mind.
EXHIBIT:
10
DATE: SEPTEMBER 23
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
UNCLE MORRIS
FROM:
SWEET ALICE
CENSORS CLAIM HIGHWAYMAN BURNED.
A&P PRO.
Rone stopped. The censors had said the Highwayman was “burned.” He wasn’t sure whether that meant dead, lost or forbidden. He had no idea what “A&P PRO” meant.
EXHIBIT:
11
DATE: SEPTEMBER 23
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
SWEET ALICE
FROM:
UNCLE MORRIS
LATEST INFORMATION ESTABLISHES HIGH-WAYMAN STILL IN PRINT. REQUEST VOLUME BE SENT IMMEDIATELY.
He concluded that the censors had claimed the Highwayman was dead, but Uncle Morris could prove that he wasn’t. He was calling their bluff. He was officially asking for the Highwayman. Rone wondered why Uncle Morris would know that he was alive, but Sweet Alice wouldn’t.
EXHIBIT:
12
DATE: SEPTEMBER 24
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
UNCLE MORRIS
FROM:
SWEET ALICE
CENSORS CLAIM YOU ARE MISINFORMED.
ALSO STATE THAT THREE LIBRARIES WOULD NOT CARRY VOLUME ON THEIR SHELVES.
The censors were holding to their story. They still claimed the Highwayman was dead. They also let it be known that even if he was alive three libraries would have nothing to do with him. Three, Rone thought to himself. Three major agencies? CIA, CIC and FBI? That could explain it. But then who are the censors?
EXHIBIT:
13
DATE: SEPTEMBER 24
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
SWEET ALICE
FROM:
UNCLE MORRIS
CAN YOU TAKE FEATHERLESS FRED TO TEA?
Rone had no idea what this meant. He looked over at the man. He was asleep. He turned to the next page of messages.
EXHIBIT:
14
DATE: SEPTEMBER 25
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
UNCLE MORRIS
FROM:
SWEET ALICE
NO EYES FOR ME. THE CENSORS ARE CLIMBING ON HIS BONES. DOES TOOTHLESS TONY HAVE A GUITAR?
Rone read the message over, then turned back to the previous page and reread that one as well. Featherless Fred seemed to be the last resort, but either he wouldn’t listen to Sweet Alice or Sweet Alice had no way of getting to him. The censors were blocking the way. They were “climbing on his bones” or seducing him. Sweet Alice felt that only Toothless Tony could convince him. But he had no idea who Toothless Tony was, and Featherless Fred was equally obscure.
EXHIBIT:
15
DATE: SEPTEMBER 25
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
SWEET ALICE
FROM:
UNCLE MORRIS
TOOTHLESS TONY IN GOOD VOICE. WILL SERENADE TONIGHT.
Toothless Tony was ready, whoever he was. Rone turned the page. There was only one message on it—and it was not a cablegram.
TOP SECRET TOP SECRET
THE WHITE HOUSE
DATE: SEPTEMBER 26
DEAR
IT HAS COME TO ATTENTION THAT YOU AND CERTAIN OF YOUR ASSOCIATES ARE AT ODDS WITH OUR BRITISH FRIENDS. I AM SURE THAT YOU HOLD ONLY THE BEST INTEREST OF OUR NATIONAL SECURITY IN MIND WHATEVER THE POSITION YOU MAY TAKE. AS ALWAYS IN THE PAST AND I WILL ABIDE BY YOUR ULTIMATE DECISION. I AM SURE YOU AND YOUR ASSOCIATES WILL TAKE IN MIND OUR POLICY OF MAXIMUM COOPERATION WITH OUR BRITISH FRIENDS IN MATTERS OF THIS SORT BEFORE FINALIZING YOUR VERDICT. WOULD IN NO WAY WISH FOR YOU TO JEOPARDIZE OUR INTERNAL SECURITY—IF THAT’S WHAT IS INVOLVED. I HOPE YOU CAN REACH SOME CONCLUSION AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
YOUR MOST ADMIRING FRIEND,
TOP SECRET TOP SECRET
For reasons of national pride Rone was somewhat reluctant to establish the identity of Featherless Fred. If it wasn’t who he thought it was he was certainly very close to him. Rone noticed that the letter was classified top secret. This meant that at least one person, maybe more, from a major agency saw it. If Rone’s hunch was right then censors were with the agencies or, more likely, over them. But they were definitely not par
t of the Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris operation. What confused Rone most was that this letter was written to someone at one of the agencies, since it was classified. He wondered what their top-secret material was doing in with Sweet Alice and Uncle Morris information. The major agencies might give up or loan out an agent, but seldom if ever did they like giving out classified documents—especially when they came from the White House. Rone didn’t have to guess what was on the next page as he began to turn.
EXHIBIT:
16
DATE: SEPTEMBER 27
SUBJECT:
HIGHWAYMAN
TO:
UNCLE MORRIS
FROM:
SWEET ALICE
HIGHWAYMAN SUDDENLY BACK IN PRINT. LIBRARIAN DOES NOT HAVE VOLUME ON SHELF, BUT CAN LOCATE. CONDITION UNKNOWN. CENSORS APOLOGIZE FOR SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING-HOW ODD.
So, Rone thought to himself, Sweet Alice does have a sense of humor. Uncle Morris was right in assuming the Highwayman was still alive, but he was no longer at the library—no longer with his old agency. The main problem was to find him and see if he was still capable of replacing the Pepper Pot.
EXHIBIT:
17
DATE: SEPTEMBER 28
SUBJECT:
