The Winter Agent

by Gareth Rubin

  CHAPTER 24

  2 June 1944

  In the towns and cities of France, everyone knew where the Gestapo beat, drowned or shot the foreign agents they caught. The German authorities made a point of advertising – sometimes even exaggerating – their presence as a method of cowing the local population into passivity. But the people of London rarely wondered where captured German spies were held and interrogated.

  Reece stood in front of a grand stucco mansion. Numbers 6–8 Kensington Gardens had been built to house dukes – prime ministers, even. And now in its five interrogation rooms and thirteen cells it held the failed agents that Germany had sent to Britain by parachute or via ship from neutral nations. Its wartime name – the London Cage – was probably a deliberate ploy to tell its new inmates that their stay would be brutal.

  Reece was wearing his uniform, that of the Naval Intelligence Division, for the third time in three months. The first had been for his full debriefing on arrival in Britain; the second when he had been decorated. He could barely remember what medal had been pinned to his chest. He thought one day he would care a little more than he did now.

  Evans stood beside him, smoking the last of a gasper. He finished it and tossed it to his side. ‘Right, let’s go in,’ he said. A Blue Cap military policeman on sentry duty opened the door and Evans led the way in through a linoleum-floored lobby that had once been expensively decorated. Slivers here and there of thick wallpaper told of what the house had been and who had lived in it before it had been handed to the War Office.

  The sentry, whose knuckles were bruised, opened a metal cabinet, selected a bunch of keys and placed it in his pocket before descending a set of steps into the basement. The top of the stairs was guarded by a private with a baton who saluted as they passed. It felt strange to Reece to smartly return the gesture. Had he spent the previous four years in uniform, no doubt it would have been second nature, but he had instead lived as a strange half-breed of civilian and serviceman.

  ‘Mind your head. Ceiling’s quite low,’ Evans said. Their feet made the wooden steps creak.

  At the bottom, the Blue Cap led them through a tunnel-like corridor hewn out of what had probably once housed the washroom and the cold store. It had the musty smell of ageing wood. ‘Worst bloody ones, these,’ he said, reaching into his pocket for the ring of keys.

  Evans nodded and pointed to the last of three metal-reinforced doors in a row. ‘That one. I’ll do it.’ The sentry handed him the keys. There was a peephole on the door, covered by a metal disc, and Evans lifted the disc to look through. ‘All right,’ he said.

  He selected a key, inserted it into the lock and twisted. But it wouldn’t turn properly. He took it out, examined it and tried a second time. It clicked into place. He drew it out, pushed the door open and spoke in a low voice. ‘See if you can get anything more,’ he said, standing aside.

  ‘Hello, Maxime,’ Charlotte said. She was sitting on a low wooden bed attached to the wall. It had a sheet, a blanket and no pillow. ‘I thought they would send you.’ She spoke in French.

  Evans went to the corner of the room, crossed his arms and remained quiet.

  ‘Why are you in Britain?’ Reece asked her, simply, in the same language. For a second he felt a flash of that white anger: an unthinking, reflexive fury that seemed to light without a spark. He forced himself to regain control.

  ‘Can I have a cigarette?’ He reached into his pocket and drew out a silver case. It had been a present from SOE. Agents were given them as tokens of appreciation, and as valuable items should they ever have to barter for their lives. ‘You’re still using it.’ He lit one and gave it to her.

  ‘Why did you come?’ he repeated.

  ‘You know that I worked for the Abwehr. It no longer exists. Canaris has been arrested. He will probably be executed.’

  ‘Are you here to swap sides? Again? The Abwehr recruits you to infiltrate SOE and now it’s on its knees you think it’s time to change once more?’

  She paused. ‘No, Maxime. No. I have always worked for Britain. In a sense,’ she said. The smoke rose in front of her lips. ‘Canaris recruited me. He’s as horrified by the prospect of a Nazi Europe as you are. He’s been removed because he’s been plotting against Hitler. Identifying Parade was part of that – Canaris would have told you about him when we knew who he was. I’m here to help you now if I can.’

  ‘Do you expect me to believe this?’

  ‘I don’t know, Maxime, I really don’t.’ She looked at Evans. ‘Do you believe me?’

  ‘The jury’s still out,’ Evans replied in English.

  Reece had presumed Evans spoke French, but it was useful to have it confirmed. The smoke filtered through the air. ‘I’ve lied to you many times,’ Charlotte continued. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you think I’m lying now. I’m not. We’re in England now. It can all come out.’

  Reece watched her, wondering if there was any way to tell if her words were honest. After what they had shared, he wanted them to be the truth. But that was the danger: he wanted it to be the truth. And so he doubted himself as much as he doubted her.

  ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘Canaris made me report on the circuit. He wanted to know what your plans were and how close you and the Americans were to invading. I think he was going to give you Parade’s identity and the details of Parade One if, in return, you gave him a role in the new government when you defeated Hitler. He wanted the Nazis gone, but he was going to keep it from you until you agreed.’ Reece knew from Delaney that this was the story she had told before. Of course, that didn’t mean it was true. ‘He has files somewhere about the SS too. The crimes they are committing. It’s all a crime.’

  ‘How did Parade know about me?’

  ‘I don’t know, but it wasn’t from me,’ she said.

  ‘Can you prove that?’

  ‘You know it couldn’t be me. Someone gave you to the Gestapo in Amiens. How could I have known where you were? I had no contact with the circuit then. Canaris said Parade had got the information from a source in London.’

  It fitted together. The only ones who had known the plan were Reece, Sebastien and London. She had known nothing of it. But his anger at her for duping him remained, and he wanted to make her feel it. Even if she had never betrayed the circuit to the Gestapo, she had betrayed him in another way. He wanted to turn the screw.

  ‘How do you know about Amiens at all?’ he asked.

  ‘From Canaris. He has sources in the Gestapo. He was the one who warned me that the raid to rescue Luc on the road had failed and they would be coming for us. He says Parade has very high-level access. That’s why he ordered me to take the photographs when the op failed. I was to save them from the Gestapo. Canaris wanted to identify Parade and inform you, but now he doesn’t have the chance. So I’m here.’

  ‘Where are the pictures now?’

  ‘Canaris had them when he was arrested.’

  Reece looked to Evans, to see if 5 knew of any conflicting evidence.

  ‘It’s possible,’ Evans said. ‘We’ve known for some time about Canaris’s anti-Nazi sensibilities.’ So her story was plausible – but then she had had time to come up with a plausible cover.

  ‘What about the fire at your safe house?’ Reece asked.

  ‘I set it to keep the Gestapo away from me while I disappeared. And before you bring up the girl who died there, she was my host’s daughter, and don’t shed a tear for her. She was spying on me – she had a German boyfriend. Her death was two birds with one stone. I did what had to be done.’

  ‘I was there,’ he said. He relived those moments, not knowing if she were alive or dead; if she was in the hands of the Gestapo or giving them orders.

  ‘I saw you.’ She lifted her eyes to him. They were dark in the low light. ‘You don’t know how much I have lost. So many things.’

  He wanted time to filter out what could be real from what had to be false. But he didn’t have that time. ‘Later, when I found you at
your family home. Are you Jewish?’

  She tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘Half. My mother’s side.’

  Evans piped up from the corner. ‘We’re believing her on that. We’ve looked into it – she knows a little Hebrew, the prayers. Canaris has recruited a number of Jews and given them Abwehr papers so they can escape.’

  ‘Hardly conclusive.’

  ‘I could have killed you there,’ she said. ‘Instead I saved your life and told you all that I knew about the spy.’

  ‘Have you heard any more about him?’

  ‘I’ve told Delaney everything.’

  ‘So you say,’ Evans said in a low voice. ‘How do we know you’re not keeping anything back?’

  ‘I suppose you don’t,’ she replied.

  ‘What happened to your mother?’ Reece asked.

  ‘Oh, not the Nazis. No, she died before they came. Some of my family, though.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He was. He thought of his parents’ artist friends, fled or taken away, wherever they were now.

  Her eyes stayed on his, her pupils shrinking as they took on a faraway look. ‘We will live,’ she said.

  Some of the fight went out of him. He took a place beside her on the bed. ‘What do I call you?’

  She shrugged. ‘What do you want to call me?’

  ‘Charlotte.’

  She dropped her cigarette on the floor. ‘I prefer it. My real name reminds me too much of the past. It feels like someone else now. I want to help. If I’m out of here, I can do that.’

  ‘Evans?’ Reece said.

  ‘I’ll speak to someone,’ he replied. ‘But it’s not my decision. There are regulations.’

  ‘I know. I’ll wait,’ Reece told him. ‘What were your orders, when you were recruited to the Abwehr?’

  ‘I was to report back to Canaris whatever intelligence you gained of the Gestapo or SD.’

  ‘Why didn’t you inform us when you came over in’42? Tell us who you were and what you had been sent for. Work for us directly, not for Canaris’s personal game.’

  Her eyes met his. ‘I still have family over there. Canaris is protecting them. Was protecting them. You would do the same for your family, I think.’

  He nodded, understanding. ‘So why didn’t you come over as soon as he was deposed? You’ve had months.’

  ‘I was in Germany when the Abwehr was destroyed. First, I waited to see if he could regain control. They had him under house arrest for a while, then they released him and I thought perhaps he was safe, but when they arrested him again I knew it was all over. I crossed the border to Switzerland and came from there.’

  Reece rested his back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. He was tired. He wound his shoulders back, to ease the stiffness. When he shut his anger away, he believed what she was saying.

  There was a long silence.

  ‘What’s happened in the last few weeks. In the war?’ she asked after a while. ‘Being here is like being buried.’

  ‘We’re driving the Japs out of India. The Russians are still advancing in the East.’

  ‘Good.’

  There was a silence while he watched her stand and lean against the wall, her arms folded. ‘Do you want anything?’

  ‘A warm blanket. Something to read. I haven’t read a book in months.’

  Evans cleared his throat. ‘I’ll send you one. I’ll tell the guards that you’re with us but we need to clear the formalities. They’ll make sure you’re fed well, not treated harshly. I think it will take a couple of days.’

  ‘I can wait. I’ve been waiting a long time.’

  A noise rose from outside the cell, the sound of someone kicking a door. Then a maniacally strained voice shouting the first words of a song: Die Fahne hoch! Die Reihen fest geschlossen! SA marschiert …

  It was the Horst Wessel song, the Nazi Party anthem, Reece noted. A German proud to defy his captors. Then there was the jangling of keys, the sound of the metal door swinging open and feet scuffling on the concrete floor.

  Charlotte went to the door and gazed at the peephole, covered from the other side. ‘It’s a strange feeling,’ she said. ‘To betray both sides at once. To aid my friends by working for their enemies.’

  ‘Do you ever forget who you are really working for?’ Reece asked.

  ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Sometimes.’ She touched the peephole with her index finger.

  CHAPTER 25

  Alibi

  In addition to your cover background, you must have an explanation ready for every subversive act, however small.

  The ‘alibi’ should be as near the truth as possible, provided that it is not suspicious. Time can be expanded. Dates of events can be transposed. If you do this, make sure you allow for different circumstances on different days, e.g. do not say you had been to the market if there is no market on the day for which you give your alibi, although there was one on the day of the events of which you have transposed.

  A few minutes later Evans and Reece stepped out into the street. ‘What are your impressions?’ Evans asked.

  Reece brooded on what had been said. ‘I believe her.’

  ‘Yes, so do we. Not without reservations, you’ll appreciate, but that’s our overall conclusion.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Which way are you headed?’

  ‘Charing Cross. You?’

  ‘The same.’

  They set off, barely exchanging a word until they reached the huge Victorian station with its sweeping iron ribcage. Evans looked over to the wooden departures board. ‘I’m on the 5.47.’

  Reece checked the clock above them. It was 5.43. ‘Mine’s in fifteen minutes,’ he said.

  ‘I expect we’ll run into each other again, Captain. Look after yourself.’

  Reece bid him farewell and watched as Evans hurried towards the platform. He checked the wooden destination board for his own train. He glanced at the 5.47 on platform three, Evans’s train. It was calling at Clapham Junction, Balham, Croydon and a few other stations.

  Reece stood for a minute, waiting for his platform to be announced, contemplating all that Charlotte had said that day. All that she had revealed of herself. He couldn’t help but feel fury at her deceit but pity for what she had lived through.

  The board changed and Reece’s platform was displayed. He walked towards it, still thinking. As he passed the entrance to platforms three and four he glanced in. He saw the guard raise his green flag and the 5.47 begin to move. Slowly, at first, a walking pace, and then a gentle canter as it departed the station. And yet there was one man left on the platform. Evans. He was sitting on one of the benches some way up the platform, casually reading a newspaper. He had clearly been there a while and was making no attempt to board the train, even though it was still quite possible to do so. Reece was about to call over to him, but then he saw Evans stand, move to the adjoining platform and fold up his newspaper. The train there was just closing its doors. Reece looked up at the platform destination board. And as he looked down the roster of stations, his stomach clenched: Dartford, Slade Green and Erith.

  Erith, where a police officer had been stabbed and his body left in an alleyway, the life having poured out of it.

  Reece stared at Evans’s retreating back. It was probably nothing: a slight coincidence. But …

  He pulled back, behind a hoarding advertising chocolate that no one had the coupons for any more. And he resolved that as soon as Evans boarded the train he would slip into a rear carriage and follow him, just to observe.

  Everyone on the platform boarded the train. Doors slammed closed. Reece was itching for Evans’s back to turn so he could just gain the last car. But then the engine whistled and only then did Evans climb aboard, and the train begin to move. There was no way Reece could board without sprinting for it and attracting attention, especially from Evans himself. As it left the station he swore under his breath, angry at his failure.

  What now? Del
aney had told him to drop it and leave it to 5. There was no chance he would comply with that order. The next Erith train was in twenty minutes from the same platform. He paced up and down the concourse as he waited.

  It was an uncomfortable thirty-minute journey, when he caught it, stuffed between servicemen on leave and commuters. Upon arrival, he found his way, with some difficulty, to a dull suburban street that had been the police officer’s last known location. There was no sign of Evans, that was sure.

  Could it have been in this street that a police officer had interrupted Parade while he was communicating with Berlin? It was certainly a good place for a transmission. Reece knew from France exactly what was required: a quiet road with roof space or somewhere to hang an aerial. All the houses here had attics that would do fine. And a long straight street would allow the agent to keep watch for detection vans.

  He looked along the road. The attic windows were all empty. And then a figure passed behind one of them. And something black seemed to be trailing out of it.

  Reece began walking to the house.

  ‘Good evening, sir.’

  He spun around to see two policemen approaching him, one with a short, neat beard, one clean-shaven. ‘Are you looking for someone?’ asked the bearded officer.

  He didn’t want the attention. Not yet, while he had only the vaguest of suspicions. ‘It’s a bit embarrassing. My friends live in this street. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten which number.’ He checked up at the dark house again.

  ‘Well, tell me their name and we can see if we can find them for you.’

  ‘It’s Watson. But really, I’ll be all right on my own.’

  ‘It’s no trouble for us to check. We’ll accompany you as you look.’