‘And now the War Office can read the Japanese Naval messages. Sir Wilbur Willoughby is delighted with our work. He has come to Singapore to assess the situation here himself,’ said Miss Neha.
Lili had met him only once, but she remembered Sir Wilbur Willoughby, Director of the Asia division of Maximum Operations Enterprise, very well.
‘Anyway, enough congratulations,’ Miss Neha said, putting down her cup. ‘Our work is not over yet.’ She took a piece of paper from a file on the desk in front of her. ‘Following your excellent decoding work, Lili, we have had the message translated into English by our Maximum Ops Japanese expert.’
Miss Adelia and Miss Neha had been very interested in the envelope that Lizard had found on the floor, with its groups of five-digit numbers scrawled on the back. It was a coded message, perhaps written out to be sent by radio. Lili stayed up late matching the numbers with codes in the photographed pages of the codebook to decipher it, and had ended up with a message in Japanese.
Lili, Miss Adelia and Miss Neha stared at the translated message.
Meet at Raffles 10pm Nov 9
Nightingale has maps and photographs
Nightingale and Mr Nightingale to board boat
midnight Nov 9
‘What does it mean?’ asked Lili.
‘November 9 is in two days’ time. And there’s a garden party at the Raffles Hotel Palm Court that night, thrown by the Malaya Tribune. They’ve invited some of the Japanese consulate staff, as well as British top brass.’ Miss Adelia said. ‘I think the rendezvous will happen there.’
‘It would seem likely that one of the Japanese consulate staff is the nightingale. We need to be there to find out who Nightingale is and intercept the maps and photographs,’ said Miss Neha.
‘But are there two agents? Lili asked ‘It says Nightingale and Mr Nightingale in the last line of the message.’
‘Good question. I have to admit that we don’t know, but we are working on it,’ said Miss Neha.
‘Could it be a mistake by the message coder?’ asked Lili.
‘That’s a possibility,’ said Miss Neha. ‘It is unfortunate that we did not get clearer information from the gamekeeper.’
‘That’s the thing with spies—they won’t tell you anything unless they know who you are,’ said Miss Adelia.
‘Who is the gamekeeper?’ asked Lili. ‘Uncle Archie said that name.’
Miss Neha and Miss Adelia looked at each other. ‘Does she need to know?’ asked Miss Neha.
‘I rather think she does,’ Miss Adelia said. ‘The gamekeeper is the code name of one of the top Maximum Ops agents in Asia.’
‘But what has the gamekeeper got to do with Uncle Archie?’ asked Lili.
‘My dear, haven’t you realised yet?’ asked Miss Adelia. ‘Lizard’s uncle is the gamekeeper.’
‘Oh!’ exclaimed Lili. ‘And Lizard never knew! But Uncle Archie—I mean the gamekeeper—he did not recognise you, did he, Miss Adelia?’
‘No, we’ve never met, but I recognised him, not straight away because of the bruising and… well, let’s just say he looked quite different from the photographs we have on file,’ said Miss Adelia.
‘What did that message mean?’ said Lili. ‘The gamekeeper says that autumn is coming so get marmalade.’
‘It’s not our operation so we don’t know the details, but “autumn” will be the code word for a mission or some sort of intelligence that the gamekeeper was sent to work on,’ said Miss Adelia. ‘“Marmalade” is probably a particular action required from Maximum Ops—a meeting, or perhaps extraction of the agent.’
‘Why didn’t you tell him you worked for Maximum Ops?’ asked Lili.
‘Think about it, Lili,’ said Miss Adelia. ‘He can’t tell the gunjin what he doesn’t know.’
Lili knew that Miss Adelia meant that he couldn’t tell the gunjin what he didn’t know under interrogation. And she knew about interrogation methods and how effective they could be.
‘Oh, Miss Adelia!’ she cried. ‘Poor Uncle Archie! We must rescue him!’
It was Miss Neha who answered. ‘We have given the gamekeeper’s message to Mr Davis. Mr Davis is part of Maximum Ops Asia Division. They will take it from here.’
‘But I promised Lizard that we would save his uncle!’ said Lili.
‘We cannot interfere in another mission,’ said Miss Neha.
‘Lili, we are going to need Lizard’s help soon. He must be in good condition to be of any use,’ said Miss Neha.
Lili look confused.
‘What Miss Neha means, Lili, is that Lizard must not be too anxious about his uncle. We are going to need his help in investigating the rendezvous at Raffles Hotel,’ Miss Adelia said.
Lili was still puzzled.
‘The boy will be no use to us if he is a blubbing mess,’ said Miss Neha.
Miss Adelia sighed. ‘You must tell Lizard that his uncle is going to be all right and that we have plans to rescue him.’
‘Is that true?’ Lili asked.
‘We know nothing of the gamekeeper’s operation. Maybe he will be rescued, maybe not. Perhaps his mission is to remain a prisoner, we don’t know,’ said Miss Neha. ‘But Lizard must not know that. You are an agent for the British Empire, Lili. You must do what is necessary to ensure that Lizard functions effectively in his part of our mission.’
‘You mean I must lie to him,’ said Lili.
‘Pull yourself together, Lili,’ Miss Adelia snapped. ‘Remember that you’ve lied to Lizard ever since you’ve known him, right up until, hmm, let me see…yesterday.’
‘You performed well yesterday,’ said Miss Neha. ‘You will be given more missions, but only if we are sure you can handle them. Lying, being undercover—for an agent, these things are necessities. The success of the mission must be put above all else.’
‘I’ve lied to my family and friends for years,’ said Miss Adelia. ‘My mother lives in Derbyshire. She thinks I teach English at a girls’ school. Which I do, but she doesn’t know I also teach breaking and entering, weapon handling and codebreaking.’
‘Anyway, back to the matter in hand,’ said Miss Neha. ‘We need to be at the party to find out who the Nightingale is and intercept the handover of the maps and photographs.’
‘Lizard has a connection there and he can help us get in. You tell me, Lili, what is the point of worrying and upsetting Lizard about his uncle?’ Miss Adelia stared at Lili.
Lili said nothing.
‘Exactly, so you tell him something to stop him worrying,’ said Miss Neha. ‘All right?’
Lili nodded, reluctantly.
‘Now, there is going to be a party at the Raffles tomorrow night. Quite the glittering soiree. And Adelia and Lili, you will both be there.’
Lili felt a twinge of excitement. She was going to a Palm Court party at the Raffles Hotel.
As Lili left Miss Neha’s study, she noticed the shoelace on her left shoe was untied. She bent down to tie it, and realised that she could hear Miss Neha and Miss Adelia talking through the not-quite-closed door. They were always so careful when speaking to her and the other S-Stream girls; here was a wonderful opportunity to hear something real and unguarded.
‘The boy Lizard—I’m not sure I agree with Sir Wilbur’s assessment of him,’ said Miss Adelia.
Lili’s ears pricked up even further.
‘The British are always so suspicious of outsiders,’ snorted Miss Neha.
‘Not me,’ replied Miss Adelia. ‘But Sir Wilbur found it odd that the gamekeeper never mentioned the boy to anyone in an official capacity.’
‘Because he knew Maximum Ops wouldn’t allow him to keep Lizard, nephew or not,’ said Miss Neha.
‘Do you think we should really let Lizard be there at the Raffles party?’ said Miss Adelia.
‘No choice. We need him to get Lili in,’ said Miss Neha. ‘After that, we won’t need him anymore.’
‘Still,’ Miss Adelia heaved a heavy sigh. ‘It seems awfully harsh to put a chi
ld in detention.’
‘I’m sure Sir Wilbur won’t put him with the adult detainees,’ said Miss Neha.
‘Oh, solitary confinement would be so much better, would it?’ Miss Adelia snapped.
‘It is not my decision, Adelia,’ said Miss Neha calmly.
Lili’s mouth dropped open. What did they mean by ‘detention’? Did they mean a detention centre? A detention centre was just like a prison. It sounded like Sir Wilbur was suspicious of Lizard after all. Was he planning to lock Lizard up after they had finished using him?
She had no chance to think more about it, as she heard the women getting up and moving to the door. Lili fled silently down the hallway, her untied shoelace flapping as she ran.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Party at Palm Court
The night of the Raffles Hotel party was humid but clear.
The columns and arches of the Palm Court provided an elegant setting for the party. White flowers on the frangipani trees gave out a sweet, cloying scent.
Candlelit tables glowed under a starry sky, and Chinese lanterns hung between the palm trees. A cleverly lit fountain tossed shimmering water into the night and a string quartet played just beyond it.
Distinguished men in formal suits and smiling ladies in evening gowns chatted in groups, while the wait staff moved among them, carrying trays laden with food and drinks.
The Raffles photographer and his bright lamps were set up beneath the arches, ready to capture the glamour of the evening.
There were several Japanese consulate staff there. Lili recognised three or four from photographs in her mission file. She wondered which one might be the Nightingale.
‘Boy—get me a drink. Chop, chop!’ called one of the men in faultless attire, clicking his fingers at Lili.
This was not how Lili had envisioned her night at the Raffles Hotel party—she was dressed as a boy in a white tunic and black trousers, with a short-haired, somewhat shaggy wig on her head, pretending to be a waiter. The guest, she saw as she neared him, was Sebastian Whitford Jones.
She dipped deferentially as she presented him with the tray of Singapore Slings.
Lizard had made Roshan arrange for him and Lili to work at the party. It had taken lies, pleading, threats and bribery to get Roshan to agree to the plan. In the end he had paid two of his waiter friends to tell the maitre’d they were sick (‘can’t stop vomiting, Sir,’ they’d both said, clutching their tummies). Then, just as the maitre’d was about to explode, Roshan had offered the services of two waiters he knew, who he said had experience in fine hotels. Roshan had groaned when the maitre’d had rostered him on to work too.
Lizard worried that Georgina would be at the party and that she would recognise them and give them away, but Lili assured him that their disguises would work if they kept away from her. Things had happened so fast that Lili hadn’t had a chance to think much more about what Miss Adelia and Miss Neha had said about Lizard, but it unsettled her. She hoped she had misunderstood them.
But, right now, here they were at the Raffles party, with important work to do.
‘Oh, ho, the famous Singapore Sling, invented right here at Raffles Hotel!’ said Sebastian Whitford Jones, as he took a pink cocktail from Lili’s tray. Lili calmed her nerves by reminding herself that he had never seen her before and couldn’t know that she had spied on him and Commander Baxter only a few nights ago.
‘Yessir,’ she said trying to sound like a boy, but he had already turned his attention to two other guests, strolling towards them. Lili recognised Commander Baxter, and with him was Major-General Arthur Percival, ex-chief of staff to the general officer commanding Malaya. She bet it would be worth her while hanging around to hear what these three had to say.
Major-General Percival stared at the photographer under the arch. The bright glare on his face from the photographer’s light washed out his unassuming features, and he blinked and frowned.
He took a drink from the tray Lili offered him, then she moved to a nearby palm tree, next to which was a small table. She stood still, occasionally offering a glass to a passer-by.
‘Ah, Major-General Percival, Commander Baxter,’ Sebastian Whitford Jones said, as they came up to him. ‘Good gracious, both the British Army and Royal Navy at Raffles Hotel!’ he guffawed. ‘Should Singapore be reassured or alarmed?’
‘Mr Whitford Jones,’ said Major-General Percival.
‘Congratulations on your promotion, Major-General,’ said Mr Whitford Jones.
‘Thank you,’ said Major-General Percival. ‘Yes, I’m on my way back to London.’
‘Malaya will be sad to lose you,’ said Commander Baxter.
Lili saw Roshan walking past and stopped him. She was running out of cocktails, so she took some of his full glasses. She thanked him and he continued on his way. She was about to leave Mr Whitford Jones, Commander Baxter and Major-General Percival, who seemed to have nothing interesting to say, to eavesdrop on the Japanese Consulate staff when she heard something that made her stay.
‘Bit sorry to leave. The Japanese situation, you know,’ Major-General Percival said, eyeing the photographer who turned around just far enough as he adjusted his camera equipment for Lili to notice that he was Japanese. She thought the photographer couldn’t possibly hear them over the buzz of the party, but Major-General Percival lowered his voice nevertheless. ‘General Dobbie and I are rethinking our strategy for Malaya.’
‘We do have our brand new naval base here in Singapore, Major-General,’ said Commander Baxter, raising an eyebrow. ‘And big guns facing the sea ready for any enemy ships.’
Major-General Percival watched an elegant young couple stroll over to get their photograph taken. The smiling photographer chatted and nodded to them. Percival leaned towards Baxter. ‘Down through the Malayan jungle, that’s the way they’ll come. Not from the sea. It’s not impenetrable, that jungle. That’s our weakness. Anyway, that photographer—Japanese, isn’t he?’
Baxter looked round, squinting. ‘Good old Nakajima? Why, yes. Marvellous fellow, for a foreigner. Been here for years.’ He guffawed. ‘Oh, come now, Major-General, of all the Japanese chaps here, why suspect him of being a spy?’
‘Doesn’t he have a studio here at Raffles?’ the Major-General said.
‘Yes. Nakajima is the best photographer on the island. He takes photographs for the Straits Times and for the naval base…’ Baxter’s voice trailed off.
There was a silence.
‘Right. I won’t keep you,’ Percival said at last. ‘I’ll leave things in your capable hands. I’m leaving early tomorrow.’
Major-General Percival strode past Lili, putting his empty glass on her tray.
‘Dash it!’ said Baxter. ‘Old Percival might be right.’
‘Is there a problem?’ asked Sebastian Whitford Jones.
‘Back soon. I have a telephone call to make. Got to ring a captain about firing a photographer,’ said Baxter moodily and he headed to the main building of the hotel.
Lili looked at the photographer. Maybe he was the nightingale, not one of the Japanese consulate staff. That would be clever—she hadn’t even considered him.
Lizard was standing still and staring at the photographer. He had almost forgotten that he was holding a tray of canapés and it was tilted at a precarious angle. Mr Nakajima gestured a young couple to a spot in front of his camera with a half bow and a sweep of his right hand, before ducking under the black cloth cover of his camera. There was something familiar yet unpleasant about Mr Nakajima’s hand wave and the little bow. Lizard had seen that mocking gesture before.
‘Boy,’ Mr Whitford Jones called to Lizard.
Lizard startled, nearly dropping his tray of food. He tore his eyes from Mr Nakajima and offered the canapés to Mr Whitford Jones. Then he moved away, and tried not to hurry as he approached Lili.
‘Psst, Lili!’ he said as he sidled up to her.
His eyes were wide with shock and the hand that held the tray shook so much that
the canapés were quivering. He clutched her arm with his free hand.
‘Ouch!’ she said. ‘What’s wrong? What are you staring at?’
‘Shh, keep your voice down.’ Lizard jerked his head towards the photographer. ‘Him! There! Mr Nakajima—the photographer,’ he whispered. ‘I think he’s the hooded man!’
Lili looked at Mr Nakajima, who was still hidden under his black cloth as he photographed the glamorous young couple. ‘Why?’ Lili whispered back.
Lizard was puzzled that she didn’t look as shocked as he felt. ‘I saw him talking to those people and he did that little bow and that thing with his hand’—he showed her the gesture—‘and he pretends to be respectful, but he’s really just making people do what he wants.’
Lili eyed Mr Nakajima. ‘I just heard that he takes photographs for the Straits Times and for the navy, which sounds like a perfect cover for a spy.’
‘I can’t believe it!’ said Lizard. ‘I had tea and crackers in his studio a few days ago. No wonder he likes to gossip so much!’
‘Do you know him?’ Lili was surprised.
‘Roshan introduced us. He’s friends with everyone at Raffles,’ said Lizard.
‘Now you know why,’ said Lili.
‘What are we going to do?’ said Lizard, feeling shaken and betrayed.
‘I must let Miss Adelia know,’ Lili said. She put her tray down on the nearby table and took out a pencil and a piece of paper from her pocket. She scribbled for a few moments while Lizard stood in front of her, trying to look busy while standing still.
‘Now,’ she said when she was done, ‘give me that tray of canapés.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A Steaming Claypot of Fish-head Soup
Lili found Roshan in the sweltering kitchen, refilling his tray with drinks. She tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Roshan, I need you to—’
‘No, no more!’ Roshan backed away from her.
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