The Sleeper

by J. Robert Janes

  Goddamn it, how on earth had Ashby found her? ‘Was it the schoolmaster’s sleeper?’

  That had cut it all to the quick, thought Hilary. Never for a moment had she taken her eyes off him. ‘That I simply wouldn’t know, would I? But I can tell you he was the same that followed Karen and myself on the train down from London.’

  ‘But not from Saint Erth?’

  Again this little bird of Ashby’s shook that head of hers, hands still under the pillow on her lap, eyes never having left himself for a second. ‘Then perhaps you had best tell me about him, hadn’t you?’

  ‘Look, there’s no need for your getting short with me, Colonel. I wouldn’t have told the constabulary anything had my friends in MI6 come through, but they weren’t there when I desperately needed them, and now they won’t even reply to my repeated calls.’

  Christ! ‘Just what the devil have you to do with Military Intelligence abroad?’

  And MI5’s arch rivals, but to give him credit, Colonel Hacker did listen, thought Hilary, and when he asked what Brigadier Gordon was like, he knowing she would think he ought rightly to know himself, she said, ‘Very sophisticated, very shrewd. A hawker who raises falcons and hunts with them.’

  ‘Honest in his dealings with others, is he?’

  Had he known it a sore point? ‘He did filch sixty of my father’s acres, but that was some years ago.’

  ‘And yet you trusted him?’

  ‘I had to. I had no other choice.’

  ‘You did, and you do, Miss Bowker-Brown. Ashby ought to know on whom he had best depend, but for now, simply tell me about the one who followed and then let you wing him. Strip him to the buff if you can. Tell me if he was married, the lot, and be quick about it for I’ve got to ring London.’

  And know well enough of Brigadier Gordon to have to tell someone else in MI5, thought Hilary. As she described the man, she noted Hacker’s reactions, even to her mention of the paunch, the blue serge suit, waistcoat and gold hunter whose crystal fob had been about the size of a musket ball. ‘Victorian or Edwardian,’ she said of this last. ‘The hunter I’m not too sure of because, for a man in such a hurry to catch the ferry, he didn’t take it out all that much.’

  Did she fuck as well as she sized things up? ‘And he didn’t catch it either.’

  ‘No he didn’t, did he?’

  ‘Where’d you hit him?’

  This she told him, adding, ‘He was startled—taken aback, Colonel, in shock perhaps, and dropped his gun, which the other one then recovered.’

  ‘What sort of weapon? Come, come, surely a thing like you ought to have some idea?’

  ‘Ought I, Colonel? Why, please?’

  ‘Just tell me. Don’t piss about.’

  ‘A machine pistol, a Schmeisser.’

  ‘How the devil could a thing like you be certain of that?’

  ‘Because I’m not a “thing,” Colonel, and because I’ve seen several close-up before, in the Reich. It’s what made me shoot at him first, that and his having followed us down from London.’

  Two men, fast over the crown of that hill, she making a dive for the revolver she now had hidden under that pillow in her lap. ‘And the other one?’ he asked.

  ‘Younger. The one with the Luger was in his late twenties or early thirties. Fair-haired, tall and thin. Look, everything happened so quickly. There really wasn’t time to think.’

  Instinct had led her, she knowing her guns as well. ‘But they shouted to each other?’

  ‘The one with the Schmeisser yelled something at the other.’

  ‘In Deutsch or in English? Good God, girl, surely you can recall that much?’

  And you can forget it, Colonel, until I know more of yourself, thought Hilary. ‘I’m afraid I simply don’t know. Words were spoken but …’ She would give him a defenceless feminine shrug. ‘But I have no knowledge of them. Sorry.’

  ‘And the child? Has she?’

  ‘Karen remembers only the sound of the shots.’

  Ashby’s nanny was just like her kind, holding things back in hopes of touching base with bloody Brigadier Charles Edward Gordon. ‘I don’t like it when people hold out on me, Miss Bowker-Brown. Especially when I’m to be responsible for them should anything untoward happen. We’ve already had one young woman stripped naked, cut up and her throat slit. Should we have another?’

  Why the emphasis on the young and the naked, never mind the cut up and stripped? wondered Hilary. And had poor Daisy Belamy really been that young?

  Drawing out the Webley, she let him see how it was not only pointed at him but with steadfast determination and a clear understanding of how to use it. ‘If I knew anything more, Colonel, rest assured I would tell you. I simply want out of this mess. It’s none of my doing yet seemingly all of my responsibility.’

  Fuck MI6 and Brigadier Gordon, thought Hacker. He wouldn’t smile, would simply tell the cunt how it was going to be. ‘Your responsibility, oh my, yes. You will now draw Abwehr AST-X Bremen to yourself and that girl, Miss Bowker-Brown. You will let this sleeper they’ve awakened get so close to you, his breath will dampen that slender throat of yours until we nail him and all who are with him.’

  Of wealth and connections, thought Hacker, she still couldn’t hold back the tears that trickled down those fair and Cornish wind-burned cheeks. ‘On Friday you will go up to London and have a chat with Sir John Masterson of MI5. Then and only then, you will buzz off back to that cottage of yours and leave it up to us to let Jerry know.’

  Brigadier Gordon had also insisted she meet Masterson on Friday and had stated that she was to go along with MI5 … ‘But … but there are the mine and the cliffs? It’s … it’s by far the most rugged and dangerous part of Cornwall’s coast and definitely not always safe even at the best of times. Karen …’

  ‘Had best do exactly as you tell her.’

  As he got up to leave, Hacker tapped the gun. ‘Where did a thing like you learn to shoot like that?’

  How dare he treat her, or anyone, like this? ‘Albert taught me. Albert Long. He was in the Boer War and badly wounded, so Father brought him home here to Clarington. He’s a very dear friend.’

  ‘He the one with the Lee-Enfield that’s been pointing at me ever since you drew that thing?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Make sure you bring the Webley, and when they come for you, use it. Us or them, right? So let’s get on with it.’

  The room in darkness now, Hilary looked down over the drive. Moonlight was everywhere. After Colonel Hacker had left, Karen’s father had come by train, angry with himself and very upset by what had happened. Desperately wanting to do the right thing, he was adamant about leaving early in the morning with Karen. They would go to Dover and be in Oostende by noon or a little later. By nightfall, they’d be at the estate near Brühl, Karen back with her grandfather.

  Leaving Karen’s room, he came along the corridor to the one he was to occupy for the night, would see her by the window and know she hadn’t wanted to turn on a light.

  ‘Hacker won’t let you and Karen leave for the Reich,’ she said. ‘I lied to him, Captain. I said I’d not heard what those two shouted to each other on that hill, but I did.’

  ‘You were hoping your friends in MI6 would still come through.’

  She wouldn’t turn to face him, not yet, thought Hilary, but said, ‘Something must have come up for them not to have intervened. Brigadier Gordon wasn’t the person I expected to meet—not by a long chalk for he’s too dishonest, if you want the truth. Major-General­ Sir Stewart Menzies is head of MI6 and has known me since I was a child. Ever since I came back from France he’s had his eye on me and would, I know, have welcomed my request for help.’

  Hence what she’d said at the cottage, thought Ashby. Now very close to her, she still hadn’t turned to face him but would have to be asked. ‘Could the brigadie
r have intercepted your request and used it for his own purposes?’

  They had thought alike, felt Hilary, and hadn’t avoided its implication, but … ‘I simply don’t know, Captain. MI6’s leaving Karen and me to face that alone tells me something’s very wrong.’

  When his hand came to rest on her right shoulder, she stiffened. ‘What did they shout at each other?’ he asked.

  Dear God, why couldn’t he simply hold her? ‘Do you want it in English or in badly spoken Deutsch, except for the last two words?’

  Reaching out to her, Ashby drew her round and held her, and when he felt the tears, said, ‘Everything’s going to be all right. I’ll take it from here on in, even if I have to sit in that cottage of yours and wait for them with Karen.’

  And he would, too. ‘The one yelled, “Christ, she’s hit me. Oh damn and blast it!” and the other, “Go back!” I could have killed the first one. Don’t you see, I almost did? I didn’t think about it, I just fired as Albert had told me to. You don’t bring the revolver up to eye level and take aim when pressed. You spread your feet, bend your knees, shoot from waist level and always bang two rounds at whomever you’re trying to hit, but … but they didn’t know I’d have a gun, didn’t think it possible.’

  Putting her arms about his neck, Hilary felt the nearness of him. It had been such a long, long time since she’d been held like this by anyone, and he did make her want to be held.

  When he let go of her, she said, ‘Thanks. I guess I just needed that. Now I must go. It’s late.’

  ‘And Karen’s got her heart set on my taking care of you,’ said Ashby. ‘She …’

  Hilary placed a forefinger against his lips. ‘I know what she said, Captain. Something happened to the two of us on that hill. Instead of hated enemies, Karen and I became the best of friends. Comrades, I think, and it’s for that reason among others that I shan’t want to let her down.’

  ‘Me neither, but the both of you.’

  He had taken her hand in his, wasn’t yet going to let her leave. Giving him a brief and introspective smile, she said, ‘Too much moonlight, I think. I really mustn’t, Captain. I can’t become involved with anyone, not anymore.’ And reaching out, touched his lips and ran her fingers lightly down over the line of his face until, leaning closer still, she quickly kissed him. ‘There, now you can tell Karen that at least we did that.’

  Hurriedly she gave him everything she could about those two on the hill, he to say he had no recollection of there having been anyone like that connected with the school, and when she had turned away again to look out the window, she said, ‘I used to love it on clear nights like this when I’d come home for a short visit. Then everything was magic and I felt as if this old house really was mine.’

  Though he hated to ask, Ashby knew he’d best. ‘Could the sleeper be Brigadier Gordon?’

  ‘That … that I wouldn’t know but … but can’t think it possible.’

  ‘Yet are sickened by the thought?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

  ‘Describe him for me.’

  This she did and when done, said, ‘Lie with me, please. Look, I … I don’t want you making love to me, Captain. I simply want to be with someone I can trust and I do need to sleep if I’m ever to be awake enough to deal with whatever comes.’

  Hilary knew she wanted it to happen. Suddenly nothing else mattered, not even that she’d known him only a very short time, but when he draped that arm of his about her waist, she settled down, was suddenly content and gave that sigh of knowing she’d been right about him all along. But what of Brigadier Charles Edward Gordon and this sleeper, she wondered, what of AST-X Bremen and his former wife?

  Joachim Burghardt fiddled with the bone-handled pocketknife that had served him all his life. It was now Wednesday, 8 June, and having listened to what had happened in Kent, he had then had to listen to Christina von Hoffmann’s blistering anger and charges of incompetence being matched word for word by the savage scorn of that father of hers. Clearly Abwehr AST-X Bremen had been caught by surprise with this kidnap attempt and he had best proceed with caution.

  ‘General, I greatly fear the British MI5 and 6 are spinning a web for us with that granddaughter of yours.’

  ‘By now the whole thing should have been over, Karen here with me and you … you …’

  ‘General, your daughter has stated very clearly that the Bowker-Brown girl was all too prepared for what was to happen. Previously, as your daughter wisely advised this office, that girl met with Brigadier Charles Edward Gordon of MI6, not MI5 whom we already know are attempting to use your granddaughter to trap Osier. Brigadier Gordon is section head for Belgium and northeastern France and no one’s fool.’

  ‘Then what, precisely, has he in mind?’

  ‘Ach, that I do not yet know, but be advised this office has a particular interest in him.’

  Offering cigarettes that were coldly declined, he watched as the daughter took out one of her own and, lighting it, let the scathing anger of her gaze rake over him. ‘What have you really to offer us now that you have failed?’ she asked.

  What was yet uncertain, felt Burghardt, had best be kept to himself, but had MI6 made that attempt for purposes of their own, and if so, why had that girl been armed? Gordon wouldn’t have told her to shoot at them, so if he had set it up, then he, too, must have been taken aback by the result.

  ‘Verdammt, why can’t you answer me?’ said Christina.

  ‘Fräulein, please. It will do none of us any good, that daughter of yours especially, if we continue to remain at each other’s throats.’

  Snorting at this, she crossed her legs, brushed a tidying hand over a thigh and coldly said, ‘Then what has happened to Osier? Did he get away or was he even there?’

  Liebe Zeit, her sarcasm had allowed her to put a finger on it. Quickly Burghardt again ran things past himself. There had been no sign of anyone else other than those two who had come over the hill at the picnickers but obviously, if he had set it up, Gordon would have been watching, or would have delegated someone, and of course they would have seen this general’s daughter and would have followed her afterwards. But letting her believe it had been Osier could do no harm and might prove useful, especially if it were to bring her closer to the brigadier.

  ‘Tell me something, Fräulein, have you been taught how to use a pistol?’

  ‘Of course, but you will already be aware of this, so why, please, do you ask?’

  ‘Ach, forgive an old sea captain. I just wanted to hear it from yourself.’ And yes, anger did make the general’s daughter even more exquisite. Having tasted success in Britain by using and confronting Ruth Pearce, then countering Colonel Hacker and thereby getting the better of him, and by watching Brigadier Gordon meet with that girl, she had found espionage all to her liking, though now failure had exposed her to the ridicule of a domineering father who would privately blame her for not having walked up that hill and taken her daughter as she rightly could have.

  But compliments would only lessen the need to prove herself. ‘Fräulein, after you succeeded in getting away yourself, what, please, did you do?’

  ‘I … Why, I caught the ferry at Dover and went to see Father, then we came here.’

  ‘Determined to tear a strip off my back, but tell me something, did you inadvertently lead MI6 to my very door and to Herr Beck, whom I had intended to use to take your daughter off when Osier had freed her?’

  ‘Why you … How dare you?’

  ‘Fräulein, I dare because I must. Far too many others depend on me. General, you and this daughter of yours have already made far too many serious errors in what is a very dangerous game.’

  ‘Has this Osier crossed over himself and returned to the Reich?’ demanded Hoffmann.

  ‘General, although Agent 07392 is very close to this office, surely you are aware that I could not possibly reveal
his whereabouts or identity.’

  ‘You’re incompetent and will be relieved of your duties.’

  ‘By whose order? That of the admiral? Far too much is at stake. MI5, having been slow to awaken to the threat, will soon be turning their full attention to smashing our networks in the British Isles; many, but fortunately not all, in MI6 here on the Continent are already intent, but neither you nor this daughter of yours seem to have realized those two organizations compete with each other, each privately thinking the other incompetent and undeserving of additional funding they themselves are desperately in need of. Fortunately Osier, though highly positioned, has not yet been identified and is still useful to us. A setback, yes, but now there is much more to be gained because of MI6’s interest, and as a result, the taking of your granddaughter has just been given a Priority One.’

  Irritably Christina stubbed out her cigarette. ‘And what am I to do, Kapitän?’

  How good of her. ‘Apart from calming yourself, for that, I am sure you know, will be necessary, you are to return as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Ingratiate yourself with that former husband of yours. No doubt you will be followed by agents of MI6 and those of MI5, and no doubt, if needed, we will pick them off your back.’

  ‘And the fly in this web of yours?’ she asked, Vati having given her a nod.

  ‘Will be taken by the spider they have yet to know and never will.’

  ‘Then why won’t Osier meet with me? It’s not right, this … this secrecy of his. We could have succeeded had he made himself known to me.’

  Gut, she was now coming back to believing it had been Osier, but was still feeling that deep sense of loss and betrayal, still smarting from the knowledge that she could well have led MI6 to this very door. ‘Believe me, please, Fräulein, when the right time comes, Osier, in whom I have nothing but the greatest trust, will make contact. Remember, though, that you are dealing with someone who, unknown to the British, has lain dormant for years. He could, you must understand, lose everything, for the British do hang spies, so mistakes just can’t be made, can they? Caution is the nature of this business; vigilance its very watchword. Also, please, Herr Beck will definitely be involved, so keep that in mind and if you should see or meet him there, guard his presence as you would that of Osier.’