‘Yes, so you keep telling us,’ said Nicholls hotly. ‘But nothing ‘s gone to plan, so far, and maybe something else will happen the next time, something unexpected, another freak incident, totally unforeseen.’ His voice dripped with ill-concealed sarcasm. ‘How are you going to cope with that?’ He glowered, looking aggressively at both Petrie and Menzies.
Menzies decided it was time to help out his intelligence colleague. ‘I think you’re being a little too hard-‘.
‘No, damn it, I do not!’ Nicholls slammed the table in his irritation. ‘Maybe its high time both of you considered your positions as heads of your departments. I’ve a good mind to-‘.
‘Thank you, Alan.’ Lockhart’s firm voice cut sharply through the verbal mêlée like a hot knife through butter. He looked slowly around the room, glancing deliberately at every single man present. ‘With respect, if anybody needs to consider their position, then that decision will be taken by the appropriate person, at a level above the remit of this committee.’ He looked hard at Nicholls. ‘I understand your concern, Allan - so does everybody at this table, but perhaps you ought to let David finish his report. Only then will we be able to make a decision.’
Petrie was grateful for Lockhart’s intervention. ‘We managed to get inside the house,’ he began. ‘There were quite a few bombs dropped in the area, so we used this to order a widespread evacuation of the affected streets overnight, until we could check the area for unexploded bombs. When we got inside number fourteen, we found the pharmacist. He was still very shaken by the force of the nearest explosion, and besides he needed treatment for a mass of facial cuts and a head injury. He didn’t like it, and protested furiously, but the air raid people did a fine job of getting him out and off to the local hospital. He definitely will not be discharged until tomorrow - I’ve seen to that.’ He had already spoken to the hospital doctors, who had been fully cooperative.
‘Otherwise, we left him alone - no questioning. There was no point arousing his suspicions. Inside his house there was enough evidence for us to confirm that O’Malley was staying there, although we knew that already. And it seems he made a very hasty departure. Was it because of the bombing, or had he noticed someone on our team of watchers? It’s hard to say which. We found the transmitter in the loft. Two of our radio experts have examined it. It’s of German manufacture, not surprisingly. On my instructions they’ve neutralised the transmission capability- it will still receive, but they’ve fixed it in such a way as to ensure it will not transmit. Apparently it’s quite easy for an expert to do, but similarly only an expert will be able to diagnose the problem, and I very much doubt that Simms has those skills. Somehow I can’t quite see him lugging a rather bulky and hard to conceal device around London, trying to find someone with the knowledge to repair it. Possession of an unauthorised and unregistered transmitter in wartime conditions is highly illegal, as you all know’.
‘So it’s effectively useless in sending a message back to Germany ?’ Brigadier Williams ventured.
‘Yes. Sooner or later Schellenberg will realise that something’s gone wrong, but he won’t be able to find out how or why. What will he do then? Very little, as far as I can see. Loss of transmission usually means an agent has gone off line- probably captured. That in itself will not be enough for him to persuade Hitler to change the disposition of his forces in the West. And at the very least we’ve eliminated O’Malley’s ability to get a message back.’
‘What about Simms? Are you going to arrest him?’ Turner, the naval representative, chimed in.
‘Yes, but not yet. He’ll come out of hospital, and go back about his daily business. We’ll still keep an eye on all his activities, just in case O’Malley returns. As I said, our fall back position must be Hyde Park and the Spanish Embassy. Nothing’s changed there.’
‘That’s all very well,’ it was Nicholls again. ‘But surely O’Malley will have an alternative means of getting a message back to Germany. You keep mentioning back up positions. Won’t Schellenberg have arranged the same?’
Menzies intervened. ‘That’s highly unlikely. To the best of our knowledge he has no other assets in this country. He’s banked everything on this last one.’
‘But you can’t be sure, can you?’ Nicholls was triumphant. He’d scored a point. He puffed himself up and glared at Lockhart. ‘I think it’s high time the Prime Minister should be told about all this. This is far too serious an event for us to sit on.’
Lockhart slowly and deliberately turned around to look at Nicholls. His voice was deceptively mild, but the glint in his eye spoke volumes. ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to remember that such a decision to go upwards will be mine and mine alone. As chairman of this meeting, I alone bear that responsibility’. He turned back to face the others. ‘But as far as I can see, nothing has appreciably changed. We still need to identify and neutralise the mole. We know who Schellenberg’s agent is, and the time and location of the meeting. If anything, we are in a more advantageous position, thanks to David’s quick thinking in neutralising the transmitter. It is my opinion that we carry on as before. Are there any objections?’
He turned towards Nicholls and was pleased to note the look on the civil servant’s face. A look of fear, deference and not a little anger washed across his features. Nicholls swallowed, nodded and managed to croak out, ‘as you say, Richard’.
Nobody spoke for a few minutes. It appeared that there were no other dissenting voices. Then finally Nicholls piped up.He looked over at the secretary, who was quietly recording the minutes of the meeting in shorthand. ‘However, I wish to go on the record as stating my objections to the way this operation is being run. I have no confidence in its management.’
‘Your objections will be noted, Alan,’ Lockhart said smoothly, not in the least bit perturbed by the implied threat. ‘That is your prerogative. If that is all, we’ll reconvene as usual this week, unless there are any further untoward developments.’ He nodded to the secretary. ‘Good evening, gentlemen’.
6 Ferndale Avenue 1930
It had been a strange day, confusing, sometimes awkward, occasionally accidentally embarrassing and funny, sometimes all at the same time. How do you get used to having a stranger stay in your house without warning, even if you found that someone polite, charming, and attractive? In some ways it was like having a lover stay over, an acceptable invasion of her privacy, but without the intimacy. Of course all that was fine until they had to leave, go back to their unit or the wife and children or whatever. Yet this man was here to stay, for who knows how long, and she was beginning to feel more at ease with him, despite their enforced closeness. Or maybe it was because of it? There was a definite physical attraction there, and she was not slow to admit it to herself.
After he had cleaned himself up she made him a very late breakfast. Over tea he had discussed the mission, almost certainly not the full story, but she had the impression that at least she wasn’t being told a pack of lies. Inevitably the subject of Canaris had come up. O’Malley, or whatever his name was, told her about his family and his early years, first in Germany and then in England. He also explained how both his and Canaris’ families came from the same part of Germany and were well known to each other.
‘Tell me about Canaris, please,’ she had asked.
‘I’ll tell you what I know. You’re aware he is, or rather was, the head of German counter-intelligence?’
‘Yes, but why do you say ‘was’?’
‘Hitler sacked him earlier this year. The Abwehr has been taken over by the SS Main Headquarters. I take it you’ve heard of them, the Gestapo?’ She nodded. ‘I don’t know the full story, and perhaps only a very small part of what’s really been going on, but Canaris has been trying to undermine Hitler since well before the war began. He has been passing military secrets back to England and so on. Himmler suspects, but can’t prove it. That’s why he got Hitler to sack Canaris. The Admiral has also been involved in several assassination plots, but none of them ha
ve worked. I have no idea how he’s managed to avoid detection and arrest.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s got to be some sort of miracle. And I’ve seen what the Gestapo can get up to with torture and the like.’ He shuddered, suddenly looking grim. ‘He must have some idea of what he would face if caught, and yet he still carries on, even now.’
‘Will they arrest him?’
‘I think Himmler would love to, but for some reason his hands are tied at present. I don’t know how well you know him, or remember him, but Canaris is a consummate actor. I think he deliberately courts the image of a doddering old fool. But in reality he’s one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet. And I’ve seen bravery on the battlefield, rather too much of it for my liking, but nobody can hold a candle to his courage. And very few are aware of the incredibly dangerous game he plays…’ He lapsed into silence.
‘What about his family?’
‘Again, I don’t know much. He’s married, of course. There are two daughters, both married and hidden somewhere inside Germany with their identities concealed from the Nazis. His wife has ‘officially’ been ill for some time and is similarly concealed. As you know, I saw him recently. He was very well. He told me many things. At the end of the evening, he gave me the letter I gave to you this morning.’
She looked at him searchingly. ‘It sounds to me like you admire him very much.’
‘Yes, I do. I’m not sure if I could play his role and risk all that he does when he has so much to lose.’
‘I think you’re very fond of the man.’
‘Yes, I am.’ He was silent for a few moments. ‘I’m sorry if my coming here has put you at risk. However, I don’t think the Admiral would have given me your address without good reason. He made me promise not to put you in danger, above and beyond staying here should the need arise. When I last saw him I very much got the impression that he is very fond of you, if that’s the right word… I don’t wish to pry, but perhaps it’s time you told me a few things in return.’
‘Alright,’ she said softly. ‘You’ve told me a lot about yourself, although I’m sure there’s plenty more to come. As for me, I’m the product of an affair between a young, handsome German naval officer and the rather impressionable daughter of a British diplomat working in Madrid before the start of the First World War. My mother fell head over heels in love with Wilhelm Canaris. They met at an embassy reception, well before relations between the two countries became awkward. One thing led to another, and along came me.’
‘That must have been difficult, with war looming.’
‘Yes, that certainly didn’t help, but there were other reasons as well. By the time she discovered she’d become pregnant, it was much too late to do anything about it. Spain is a catholic country, and abortion is unthinkable, unheard of. The family was outraged. For a long time my grandfather would have nothing to do with her. The affair and the pregnancy were hushed up, as you would expect, to avoid compromising his position at the embassy. Eventually my mother with her newborn baby were shipped quietly back to England and to seclusion at the family home in Devon, mainly to spare the family and my grandfather in particular from further shame and embarrassment. Eventually she was ‘rescued’ by an older man, a widower who had survived the slaughter of the trenches only to come home to England to find his wife dead from Tuberculosis. They formed a relationship, a sort of love. I doubt very much it was a wildly romantic love, but rather something in which she and her young daughter would be cared for and given suitable respectability.’
‘When did your mother tell you about your real father?’
‘When I was eighteen. One day, during the summer holidays, she told me the full story of her time in Spain and of a wild love affair with a dashing young naval officer. I think she was trying to help me manage my life at the time. I was a bit of a handful at home and in boarding school, you know, always getting into trouble. It was all part of a message from her to help me be more responsible and be in control of my life. And it came as quite a shock, I can tell you. I’d always regarded Daddy R, as I used to call him, as my real father. R stands for Robert, by the way.’
‘Did it change the way you felt about him?’
‘No.I was angry at first, angry that this secret had been kept from me for so long.But I got over it. And yes,’ she admitted,’ it was rather awkward to begin with, but my mother told me that my father fully approved of me being made aware of what had really happened in the past. He still loved me unconditionally, even though I was not genetically a part of him. And once the news had sunk in, I realised that in many ways I could have no better a father- Daddy R was always there for me, kind, loving, someone you could always rely on. In the end, it changed nothing. We had another five good years of him, and then one morning he didn’t wake up. The doctors said he had quietly passed away in his sleep- a stroke.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yes, so was I. But we were well provided for. He was a wealthy man, a successful local landowner and farmer. That was seven years ago.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She still lives in the family home. She has a lot of friends and enjoys the country life, but there’s nobody special in her affections now, apart from me, that is!’ She suddenly laughed, and then carried on more thoughtfully. ‘I think she’s comfortable with that now.’
‘So what happened to you after that?’
‘I was training to be a teacher at the time. It always seemed like worthy vocation, but when I tried it for real, I found it wasn’t as interesting and fulfilling as I’d hoped. And the kids!’ She laughed again. ‘They drove me mad. I could see it only ending up one way- ‘woman teacher committed to trial at the Old Bailey for murdering her class!’ She giggled, describing an imaginary newspaper headline. ‘No, it just wasn’t for me. I wanted something intellectually stimulating, something challenging, even in this male-dominated world. So I chose law. I’d got the right grades, and my mother could provide the necessary funds for me to go to law school. So off I went.’
‘Wasn’t that difficult, to put it mildly?’
‘No, not really. I’m not just a pretty face.’ He silently agreed.‘The work wasn’t difficult, just long and repetitive, huge amounts of reading, that sort of thing. But I’ve got a good memory- photographic, you might say. The only difficulty was fighting off hordes of randy old law professors and the usual inbuilt disdain of working women challenging men at their own game. You know, a woman’s place is in the home. Not for me it isn’t.’
He smiled. She sounded very much like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted in life.
‘So I ended up working in the City for a Patents company. They needed a legal adviser. That’s where I met David. His job was to swan around the world, advising on and settling disputes over copyright, that sort of thing. We married in ’38. I suppose it was in some respects a whirlwind romance, just like my mother’s was. I’ve obviously inherited a trait from her- when I see a man I like, there’s no stopping me!’
‘So where’s he now?’
‘Didn’t Canaris tell you?’
‘No. As I said, he told me very little beyond your address and that you would hopefully be sympathetic to my plight.’
‘Well, I am, but not if you had turned out to be some horrible smelly creep with bad breath and a rabidly Nazi outlook on life.’ She sighed. ‘David was killed in a train crash in India, two weeks before the start of the war. I wasn’t with him at the time. I just couldn’t believe it when the news came back.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He felt rather inadequate. But what else could he say?
‘You keep on saying that. Don’t be.’ She tried to laugh, but failed miserably. ‘They were the two most important men in my life, now both of them are gone. I guess I’m not very good at keeping the ones that really matter.’
She fell silent, suddenly embarrassed by her revelation.
‘I think you’re being far too hard on yourself,’ Simon said quietly. ‘It wasn’t your fault about yo
ur father. It sounds as if you had a wonderful life together.
‘I really can’t comment on your husband, but I do know how it feels to lose a loved one.’ He decided to change the subject before she could respond. ‘You haven’t told me how Canaris features in all this.’
‘No, I haven’t. Again, there’s not a huge amount to tell. A few months after my father died my mother had a visitor. It was Canaris. I was staying at home in Devon with her at the time - to this day I don’t know whether it was by chance or design that he found us there together. One evening there was a knock on the door, and there he was. I think my mother was expecting him, in a strange sort of way. I think they’d written to each other over the years- once I found a letter that had come from Germany when I was younger, signed ‘Wilhelm.’ Naturally, I had no idea who that was, and my mother hit the roof when she found out, swearing me to absolute secrecy. Anyway, it seemed that he had also been keeping an eye on the family from a distance, and after Daddy R died, he’d decided to visit.’
‘It must have been awkward, difficult to say the least- especially for you. Your real father turns up nearly twenty-five years later, completely unannounced. How did it go?’
‘Yes, well it was rather tricky to start off, but not so much for my mother. She was fine. You see, I don’t think she’d ever fallen out of love with him, but it was such a long time ago. They were comfortable with each other - no recriminations, nothing like that at all, only regrets that the onset of war had deprived them of a future together. And of course he had his own family to look after back in Germany.’
‘What about you? How did you react?’
‘I’d always wondered what he was like, ever since my mother told me about him. Not so much his position in life, but what he was really like, how he felt about me. My mother knew he had married after the war, and had his own family. We spent the evening talking about what happened in Spain, and how our lives had progressed since then. I found myself beginning to like him. He seemed to be an honorable man, someone who had never stopped caring. You mentioned before that he is a clever actor, well able to disguise his emotions, but there was no evidence of that when he came to see us.’
London Calling Page 20
