by Iain Colvin
‘Great,’ said Lynn. She was happy that Craig’s reticence from the day before seemed to have evaporated. ‘I was going to suggest we walk, but to hell with it, let’s get there as quickly as we can.’ They made their way to the taxi rank and jumped in the cab at the front of the queue.
Ten minutes later they were walking through the front court at Emmanuel College once again, through the two courtyards behind, along a gravel path and up to the ivy-clad building that seemed to Craig to be much more welcoming today. They walked up the stairs and came to the door of Professor Prior’s study. Craig knocked and listened. He heard footsteps across the floor and the door opened.
‘Just in time,’ said Clive Prior, ‘The kettle’s boiled. Come in, come in.’ He left the door ajar for them as he returned to an oak sideboard where some tea-making accoutrements were lined up. To the right of the sideboard, the large triple window flooded the room with spring sunshine.
Craig and Lynn followed the professor into the study and Lynn closed the door behind them.
‘Milk or lemon?’
‘Milk, please’ said Craig, and Lynn asked for the same.
‘Sugar?’
‘Yes please,’ said Craig.
‘Yes please,’ said Lynn.
‘Please, take a seat.’
His visitors made themselves comfortable and Clive Prior placed two cups of tea in front of them. He took a sip from his own as he took his seat on the other side of the desk. ‘Now then, where will we start?’ asked the professor, looking at Craig.
‘Could you tell us about this friend of yours who’s coming to meet us?’
‘Yes, yes, of course. Patrick Anson, his name is. Commander Anson actually, ex-Royal Navy. He’s an old boy of mine from his time here at Emmanuel. He’s high up somewhere in the civil service, all very secret, he hasn’t told me exactly what his job is. But a handy man to have on board, he knows practically everyone in Whitehall.’ Clive Prior took another sip of tea. ‘Anyway, when I told him your story he was extremely interested, and as keen as mustard to see these documents of yours.’
‘Did he say what he could do to help?’ asked Craig.
‘Not exactly, but he said he knew the history surrounding this Hess episode. Or more precisely, he will be fully acquainted with it by the time he arrives in Cambridge. His job grants him access to all sorts of archived information. I’m sure he’ll know exactly what to do to, em…’ the professor looked a bit embarrassed as he searched for the right phrase.
‘To get me off the hook?’ offered Craig.
‘Precisely. Oh my dear chap, I didn’t mean to offend you.’
‘Not at all, professor, I’d have been surprised if you weren’t already aware of my predicament. May I ask how you know?’
‘You’ve made the paper, I’m afraid.’ The professor handed over a copy of that morning’s Times that had been lying folded on his desk. ‘Page six.’
Craig turned to the correct page and found an almost word-for-word copy of the article that had been in the previous day’s Scotsman. Mercifully there was no photograph this time.
‘I had nothing to do with my friend’s death, Professor,’ said Craig, a little too strenuously, he realised.
‘Oh the thought didn’t enter my head, dear chap.’
‘But I do think the letter I found is connected somehow,’ continued Craig. ‘That’s why I’m keen to have an independent source validate the documents before I go to the police.’
‘Yes, yes, I totally understand,’ said the professor. He cleared his throat. ‘And you said you have the peace document with you?’
‘Yes.’ Craig opened his bag and brought out the document, bound by its red ribbon. ‘Here it is.’
Clive Prior took the bundle from Craig with both hands, and set it down on the desk. He found his reading glasses, put them on, and looked at the front page with its coat of arms of an eagle holding a swastika. He looked up at Craig. ‘May I?’ he asked, gesturing to the ribbon.
‘Please do.’
The professor untied the ribbon and started to read, just as Craig, Lynn and Fiona had done two days earlier. Craig watched his face intently as he turned the pages. The professor’s expression seemed to change from wonder to studied concentration as he read. At times Craig thought he saw the old man display the same puzzlement as he himself had experienced. As the professor read on, puzzlement seemed to turn to understanding and as he contemplated the signature at the end, his eyes conveyed a look that may have been satisfaction. At last he met Craig’s gaze once again. ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about it, this is a genuine copy of the original peace offer Hess brought with him.’
‘I think it is too,’ said Craig. ‘Mainly because it lay untouched in a sealed bag for forty years, until the other day.’
Lynn, who had been quiet all this time, spoke up. ‘Professor, can you tell us why you’re so sure it’s genuine? After all, you’ve only given it a very quick inspection.’
Clive Prior took off his glasses, glanced at the clock on the wall, then fixed Lynn with a look that searched into her eyes. Lynn felt that he was trying to read her as intently as he’d read the document in his hands.
‘May I take you into my confidence?’
Lynn looked at Craig before responding. ‘Well, yes, Professor, by all means.’
‘I mean, what I am about to tell you cannot be revealed outside of this room, far less appear in print at a later date.’
Lynn paused. ‘Of course.’
‘You see, Mrs Simon, I’ve seen this document before.’
‘What?!’ exclaimed Craig and Lynn together.
The professor carefully put the papers together again and retied the ribbon. ‘What you have here is a copy of the document Hess had with him when he came to Scotland. I’ve read it before.’ He stood up and walked over to the window and looked out. ‘I think you are owed an explanation.’ He turned back around to face them, scanning their faces. ‘I haven’t been entirely candid with you, and I apologise. You see, I worked in the Secret Service during the war. I was one of the team who debriefed Hess. As soon as I saw your document I knew exactly what it was. I had no idea there was a duplicate in existence.’
‘Then you know all about the peace mission?’ said Lynn.
‘Yes, yes, I do. But remember, it was only a peace mission in the eyes of Hess. We lured him here to buy this country some time. We had no intention of negotiating a peace with Hitler.’
‘But this is fantastic,’ said Craig. ‘You can corroborate my story, and with luck Commander Anson can pull a few strings with the police.’
‘Well, yes and no, I’m afraid,’ said the professor, with an apologetic look on his face. ‘Will you excuse me one moment?’ He walked to the door and left the room. Craig and Lynn could hear his footsteps fade as they walked down the hall.
Craig furrowed his brow as he furiously tried to make sense of this latest bombshell. After a few seconds he turned to Lynn. ‘Quick, keep an eye out at the door for me. Tell me when he comes back.’ He picked up the document and untied the ribbon again.
‘Craig, what are you doing?’ asked Lynn.
‘I’ll explain later. Please, just check the door.’
Lynn stood up and walked to the door, opening it slightly and looking out. Every so often she glanced back at Craig who was busy putting the document back in his bag.
‘Craig, you can’t do a runner again! You’re going to have to start trusting someone. The professor’s trying to help you.’
‘I know, Lynn, I know that. Just trust me.’
Lynn heard footsteps approaching. Two sets of footsteps.
‘Craig!’ she shouted in a whisper. ‘He’s coming back!’ Lynn closed the door and hurried back to her seat.
Chapter 32
The door opened and the professor walked in with a tall, immaculately groomed man who had all the bearing of an ex Royal Navy officer. His hair was still cut in a no-nonsense service style, although perhaps it was half an inch longer
than a serving officer’s should have been. Clean shaven, with a thin mouth and a long aquiline nose, Craig would have guessed that he was ex-military even if he hadn’t been told. He wore a light grey three-piece suit, over a pale pink shirt and a blue tie. His shoes were polished to a deep shine and each was laced up in four straight parallels finishing in a neat double knot. As the man reached out his hand, Craig noticed a cufflink on his shirt sleeve with the initial ‘A’ on it. Craig wondered if the other cufflink had a letter ‘P’.
‘Mr Dunlop? I’m Anson. Very pleased to meet you.’ Commander Anson then offered his hand to Lynn. ‘And Mrs Simon? A pleasure. Professor Prior has already told me so much about you both.’ He picked up a straight-backed chair beside the bookcase, and brought it round so that he could sit beside Craig and Lynn.
‘May I offer you a cup of tea, Commander?’ asked Clive Prior?
‘Yes please, Professor, lemon, no sugar.’
The professor poured a cup and handed it to his new guest. Anson put it on the desk in front of him. ‘Thank you.’ He looked between Craig and Lynn, crossed his legs and flicked an imaginary piece of fluff from the knee of his trousers. He smiled at the two visitors. ‘I’m sure the professor has told you that he and I go way back to the days when I studied here. So I was only too pleased to get his call last night, and since then I’ve been reading up on the whole Hess affair. But before we get into all that, I’d like to hear how you came to be involved in all this.’
Craig told the story for what seemed like the hundredth time. By now he’d honed it to the point where he could cover the main points in less than five minutes. He decided that it made no sense to be anything other than totally open with Commander Anson, so he told him about everything; his grandfather, Claire, Brian Irving, his brush with the police, how he came to meet Lynn, the discovery of the second letter, the trip to the Swedish Consulate, and finally, his and Lynn’s trip to Cambridge.
Anson listened carefully and when the story was finished he uncrossed his legs, reached inside his jacket pocket, took out a silver case and removed a cigarette. He offered one to Lynn and Craig, and when they declined, clicked the case shut and put it back in his suit jacket. He took his time lighting the cigarette, and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.
‘That’s quite some tale,’ he said. ‘But I have to tell you from the outset that you cannot breathe a word of this to anyone. And the idea of writing about it –’ he turned his attention to Lynn, ‘is quite out of the question.’
‘May we know why?’ asked Lynn. She’d been thinking about what the old man had told them earlier, and in her experience when someone tried to fob her off it was usually because they were trying to hide something.
Anson smiled a regretful smile. ‘That’s an easy question to answer. The whole affair is covered by the Official Secrets Act.’
‘But records are normally released after thirty years,’ countered Lynn. ‘This all happened forty-two years ago.’
‘You know your subject, Mrs Simon,’ said Anson. ‘But you may also be aware that in certain circumstances records can be kept secret for up to seventy-five years. When it’s in the public interest for them to remain so.’
‘Why is it in the public interest for these records to be kept secret? The war’s been over for a long time,’ said Craig.
‘Come now Craig, don’t be naïve,’ said Anson.
A pang of peevishness swept over Craig at the patronising use of his first name, but he swallowed it and maintained his concentration.
‘I think I deserve a better explanation than that, Commander. Apart from everything else there’s the fact that a murder’s been committed. A friend of mine has been killed, and I’d say it’s in the public interest to know why.’
Anson held Craig’s glare for a long second, then stubbed out his cigarette in the professor’s ash tray. He stood up, and looked at Clive Prior, who was still seated behind his desk. Anson gave out a long sigh.
‘You’re right. You do deserve an explanation. As far as I can gather the police have not established that there is a connection between your documents and Miss Marshall’s death.’
‘But…’
‘Please let me finish. While there’s no proof that there’s a link between the Hess documents and Miss Marshall’s death, I think I can help you explain matters to the police. But firstly let me explain the importance of these documents of yours. Has the professor told you about the Secret Service operation to lure Hess to this country?’
‘Yes.’
Anson sat down again, and looked like a man searching for the right words to use. ‘There were a great many secret operations carried out during the war, and some of them involved making difficult life or death decisions. This was one of them. In 1941 Britain needed two things. She needed the Soviet Union in the war, and she needed the United States in the war.’
‘I know that,’ said Craig.
‘The Secret Service were handed a gift in September 1940. A man called Albrecht Haushofer… have you heard of him?’
‘Yes, he was a friend of Hess’s and of the Duke of Hamilton, from before the war.’
‘Precisely. Well Haushofer wrote a letter to the Duke of Hamilton, which the Secret Service intercepted, asking if there might be a way for him to meet the duke in a neutral place, for example Portugal.’
‘Why?’
‘It was an overture to peace talks. This was a significant opportunity for us, but not to make peace, to make the Germans think we wanted to make peace long enough to bring the Soviets into the war, and hopefully the Americans.’
‘What did it have to do with the Americans?’
‘Nothing directly, but let’s say that it was in American interests for the war to continue. Britain making peace with Germany was the last thing they wanted. They had just come out of the Great Depression, and their manufacturing industry was reliant on the armaments and tools being provided to Britain. If the war was to end in 1941, there’s every chance that their economy would have sunk back into recession.’
‘Do you mean that at the time we were effectively playing everyone against the middle? The Germans, the Russians, and the Americans?’
‘Well, that’s rather a crude way of putting it, but essentially, yes. You also have to remember that there was a tangible practical benefit to Britain. Hitler ended the Blitz while the peace offer was being considered, or should I say while he was led to believe that the offer was being considered.’
Craig and Lynn sat in silence as they digested what Anson had just told them.
‘So you see, these documents of yours could open a huge can of worms for the government if they were to be made public. It would lead to questions, extremely awkward questions. It is one thing to look back at the war with the benefit of our hindsight and for people to make judgements on those in power, but in 1941, when these decisions were made, things looked very different.’
Craig and Lynn exchanged looks. Craig looked at Anson again. ‘I can see that.’ He looked at his feet. ‘I’d like to talk this over with Lynn. It’s a lot to take in, and I have to consider what the best thing for me to do is.’ The documents were the only bargaining chips he had and he wanted to consider his options before giving them up.
Anson seemed to be able to read his thoughts. ‘By all means, you and Mrs Simon should talk things over, and my offer of help still stands. But I have to insist that you leave your documents with me. For safekeeping.’
Craig knew he was cornered. There was nothing else for it. He unzipped his holdall and took out the satchel and handed it to Anson. Anson unzipped the satchel and pulled out the stack of papers wrapped in ribbon. He saw the Nazi crest on the front, nodded to himself, replaced the document and zipped the satchel closed.
‘And the other letters?’
Craig pulled out his wallet and opened it, brought out the two letters and handed them to Anson. ‘I only have the letter addressed to the Swedish Consulate and a photocopy of the letter of safe conduct.’
&n
bsp; ‘Are there any other copies?’
‘Just the one that the police now have, and the original which Brian Irving has.’
‘Let me worry about those.’
‘May I keep the wallet?’ asked Craig, finding it difficult to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
Commander Anson took the wallet from Craig and examined it to make sure it was empty. When he was satisfied that there were no more hidden letters he gave it back to Craig.
‘Where are you staying?’
‘At the Clarendon Hotel on Tenison Road.’
‘I’ll get my driver to drop you.’
‘No, it’s alright thank you,’ said Craig, more petulantly than he intended. ‘To be honest the fresh air and the walk will do me good.’
Anson smiled. ‘Of course. Well, I’ll let you both talk things over, and why don’t I call on you around five o’clock this afternoon? I’ll take you both to dinner. You too, Professor. We’ll talk about how we can try to settle matters with the police.’
‘That’s most kind of you, Commander,’ said the professor.
‘Thank you,’ said Craig. His mouth was dry and the words came out in a croak. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his ears.
‘Not at all, Craig,’ said Anson. ‘Hopefully we can get it all sorted out for you quickly.’
‘Thank you, Commander Anson,’ said Lynn. They shook hands, and the professor showed them to the door and said goodbye.
After they had walked down the stair and out of sight, Commander Anson turned to the professor.
‘That seemed to go smoothly enough.’
Chapter 33
As soon as Craig and Lynn got back onto Downing Street, outside the confines of the college, Craig took Lynn by the arm.
‘Lynn, I have an apology to give you.’