The Courier

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The Courier Page 10

by CW Browning

Evelyn looked at him, startled. “However did you know?”

  He smiled ruefully. “I received a telephone call from London. They were in something of a tizzy. One of our men at the train station saw a Gestapo agent follow Karl out of Germany. Did you see him?”

  Evelyn bit back a short laugh. “I did more than just see him,” she murmured. “I had a nice, long chat with him.”

  Bill stared at her, his thick brows snapping together in consternation.

  “What?!”

  “It’s quite all right,” she assured him. “He was very civil. His friend, on the other hand, was not so pleasant.”

  “You’d better tell me exactly what happened. Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

  “When I got to the café, Karl was there. He was surprised to see me, but once I explained what happened to his usual contact, he seemed more amenable. He told me he’d been followed by a German agent and that he was sitting across the street, watching us.”

  “Did he know who he was?” Bill asked.

  “He knew his name, but that was all. He thought he was Gestapo.”

  “He wasn’t?”

  “No. He’s a Security Service agent, which is something different, apparently. From what Karl said, I gather they are different branches of the same tree. He said they can be more dangerous.”

  “He’s right,” Bill said grimly. “Himmler is gathering all the security agencies under the same umbrella, but they all still work independently from each other.”

  “Karl was concerned about getting back to Munich. He doesn’t know why they allowed him to cross the border, but he’s convinced they know he’s been moving information out of Germany. Well, it quickly became obvious that he was caught between a rock and a hard place.”

  Bill eyed her with misgiving. “That is the risk he took when he agreed to provide us with information. It’s the risk they all take.”

  “Yes, but what was I supposed to do? Go on my merry way and leave him to a fate worse than death?” Evelyn demanded.

  The look of misgiving on Bill’s face grew. “What did you do?”

  “I went across the street to talk to the agent.”

  “You did what?!” Bill exclaimed, his voice rising.

  Evelyn shrugged, unaffected by the near bellow.

  “What could he do to me in the middle of a busy street in France at luncheon?” she asked rationally. “Admittedly, I wasn’t thinking very clearly and perhaps, given everything that happened later, I shouldn’t have done it, but at the time it seemed like the most logical thing to do.”

  “Logical? To confront the German Security Service?!”

  “Karl said that they must have learned that he was passing information out of Germany, and that that was why they followed him. It occurred to me that if they could be offered an alternative reason for him to come into France and meet with someone, perhaps it would cause just enough doubt to delay their arrest, giving Karl enough time to get home and get his family to safety. He said he had a place he could take them, and that he could be gone in twenty-four hours.”

  “So you were trying to buy him twenty-four hours?” Bill asked slowly, staring at her with an unreadable look on his face.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “What on earth did you tell the agent?” he demanded after a long moment.

  “That I was a journalist, writing a series of articles on the economic boom that Germany is experiencing under Hitler. I told him I was trying to convince my readers that Hitler is doing great things for Germany, and that our own leaders would do well to follow his example. It was all a load of bosh, of course, but I tried to make it as convincing as possible.”

  “What paper did you use? What name? Good God, Evelyn, they will have checked everything you said before Karl even made it through the border.”

  “I know. That’s why I used a real reporter and paper,” she replied. “There’s a woman, Maggie Richardson, who writes for the Evening Standard. She just finished a series of articles about the Tour de France.”

  Bill got up and strode to his desk, waving his hand impatiently when she paused.

  “Continue. I’m just writing this down.”

  “Well, I explained who I was and what I was doing.”

  “And what did he do?” Bill asked, looking up from the paper where he was scrawling the name she’d given him. His gaze was sharp and the eyes that pierced hers were somber. “What did he say?”

  “He asked me quite a few questions,” Evelyn admitted. “He was trying to make me contradict myself, I think.”

  “And did you?”

  She looked at him scornfully. “I’m not a complete idiot! Of course not. I did have to do some quick thinking, though. I ended up telling him that I stole Karl as a source from another reporter.”

  Bill straightened and looked at her thoughtfully. “Did you? That’s very good.”

  “Well, I didn’t know how much he knew, you see. If he knew that Karl had been meeting with a man, for instance, and then there I was, it would have the opposite effect of what I was trying to accomplish. It was all rather nerve-wracking, but in the end, I think it may have done the trick. At least, I hope so, for Karl’s sake.”

  “What about the package?” Bill asked, returning to his seat with a notepad and pencil. “Did Karl keep it?”

  Evelyn looked at him in surprise. “Why ever would he do that? If they did stop him, he couldn’t be caught with it! No. He deposited it in the library and I went to retrieve it.”

  It was Bill’s turn to look surprised. “You have it?”

  She opened her clutch handbag and pulled out an envelope.

  “I had to take it out of the original envelope, but it’s all here. Three strips of microfilm,” she said, getting up and handing him the envelope. “He hid it in a book.”

  Bill reached out and took the envelope, glancing inside before setting it on the arm of his chair.

  “And you had no problems retrieving it?”

  A rueful look crossed Evelyn’s face as she seated herself again.

  “I wouldn’t say that, no,” she admitted. “I’m afraid that’s when things got hairy.”

  “Just then?” he asked, something close to a smile toying on his face. “You mean they weren’t hairy before? My dear, you must have a different idea of the word than I do!”

  “Herr Voss was so congenial that I really didn’t think of that as unpleasant,” Evelyn said slowly. “Don’t misunderstand me. Throughout the entire exchange, I was very well aware of how dangerous he was, but somehow the conversation itself was such that I might have been speaking to a new acquaintance in London. He was very civil, almost urbane.”

  “Voss? His name was Voss?” Bill was writing again.

  “Yes. He was very pleasant, but very cold.”

  “And why did things get hairy, as you say, at the library?” Bill looked up from his notepad. “What happened there?”

  “His friend showed up.”

  “Ah. And he wasn’t as pleasant?”

  “Not at all. Karl had warned me that they came in pairs, so I was looking for him. He was rather conspicuous, so it wasn’t difficult.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Thankfully, I’d told Herr Voss that my routine was to interview my source, in this case Karl, and then go to the nearest library and write out my notes immediately. So, it was perfectly reasonable for me to go straight to a library. Karl gave me some tips for retrieving the package once he learned I’d never done anything like this before. He was really very helpful. I followed his instructions and went to a table to write out my imaginary notes. Once I’d spent some time at a table scribbling in a notebook, I got up and went to the card catalog and pretended to look up a book. Then off I went.”

  “And the partner followed you?”

  “Yes. He was right behind me. I managed to get to the book and get the envelope out, but I knew I would probably be stopped. So I took the microfilm out of the envelope and concealed it in the lining
of my hat, then stuffed the envelope in my bag as a decoy.”

  “Not ineffective,” Bill murmured. “Not quite how I would have done it, but it seems to have worked.”

  “He did stop me, made me drop my bag, and helped me gather everything up from the floor. Of course, when all was said and done, the envelope made its way into his pocket. I thought he would wait to look inside until he was further away, but he didn’t.”

  “And he saw it was empty.”

  “Exactly. That’s when it got ugly.”

  “What did you do?”

  Evelyn was quiet for a long moment, then she sighed imperceptibly.

  “I hit him and knocked him unconscious.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence.

  “You…what?”

  “You know that I spent time in Hong Kong with my parents,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. He nodded. “While I was there I became a student of the local Wing Chun master. It’s a Chinese fighting art. Kung Fu.”

  Bill’s eyebrows rose into his forehead and he gazed at her in some wonder. “A fighting art?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you used this to knock an SS man unconscious?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention that to anyone. I’m afraid no one really understands why I would learn such a skill.”

  Bill waved his hand and shook his head.

  “My dear Evelyn, nothing you’ve said today will ever be made public. The security act forbids it, as does my own honor. Your secret is safe with me. It won’t make it into my report, if you’d rather it didn’t. I’ll just say he was knocked unconscious and leave it at that. I assume that’s when you left?”

  “Not quite.” Evelyn glanced at him sheepishly. “I told you it got hairy.”

  When he raised his eyebrows again, she proceeded to relate the rest of her ordeal, leaving no detail out. When he heard of Josephine’s involvement, Bill showed no sign of surprise, reinforcing Josephine’s claims that this was standard procedure for pick-ups that went awry. By the time she had finished, he was once again shaking his head.

  “Truly incredible,” he murmured. “I sent you on what was supposed to be a straight-forward pickup, and this is what happened. I wish I could convey to you how truly sorry I am that things went south to such a degree.”

  Evelyn stared at him. “What on earth for?” she demanded. “It’s not as if you could have known that Karl would be followed out of Germany.”

  “Yes, but you’ve had no training for this, no experience.” Bill got up and carried his notebook back to his desk, setting it down. “If it weren’t for your quick thinking and the timely intervention of Mademoiselle Rousseau, it could have ended very differently. And then what would I have told your father?”

  “The truth, of course,” she said practically. “That you offered me a chance to do something for the good of Europe, and I took it. He would be proud that I did.”

  Bill considered her thoughtfully for a long moment.

  “Would he?” he asked almost to himself. “I’m not so sure.”

  “Of course he would. He knows I tend to follow the beat of my own drum more than most. He has always encouraged it.”

  “This isn’t the same as learning Kung Fu in Hong Kong, or learning several languages when young women are only supposed to learn French or Italian,” he said, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms over his chest. “This is something much more dangerous, Evelyn. I should never have put you in the position you found yourself in yesterday.”

  “Nonsense!” she said impatiently. “It had to be done, didn’t it? Well, who else was there to do it? It may not have been pretty, and I’m sure a more experienced courier would have had equal success with far less dramatics, but I got the job done. You have the information Karl risked his life to get out, and I learned several valuable lessons. More than anything, I learned just what, exactly, is at stake should Hitler be allowed to continue on his present course.”

  “And how do you feel about what you learned?” Bill asked, pinning her with a searching look. “How do you feel about the SS and their tactics? And the concentration camps?”

  “I was rather shaken yesterday, to be honest,” she said slowly. “It was a bit of a shock to hear about life in Nazi Germany, and then to witness it myself with Herr Voss and his friend. I had a hard time sleeping last night.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

  “This morning, though, I think I gained some clarity,” she continued, raising her eyes to his. “I feel almost as if my eyes have been opened, or a curtain has been pulled back and I’ve glimpsed what lies behind it. At home, in England, we only have a tiny piece of the picture. Yesterday, I saw a much larger portion of what is really happening. It makes me realize just how dire it is that we stop Hitler before he goes any further.”

  “I fear that might not happen,” Bill said slowly. “This information that Karl passed on, and that of others like him, is painting a clear picture, but it is one that’s not popular in Whitehall at the moment. There are many that dismiss it out of hand. But, at the same time, there are others who recognize the value of the information. If it does come to war, those are the people we will need.”

  Evelyn looked at him quizzically. He was almost talking to himself, yet she got the distinct impression that he was fully aware of what he was saying, and to whom.

  “You mean if appeasement fails, and we go to war, some will already be prepared?”

  He glanced at her and went back to his chair.

  “Yes. We can only hope that it will be enough. As it stands now, we’re woefully inadequate for the job ahead.” He sat back and looked at her for a long moment. “Do you know what your father does?” he asked suddenly.

  Evelyn raised her eyebrows, startled. “Of course. He works in a diplomatic capacity. Now, more than ever, his particular tact is desperately needed, or so Stephen says.”

  “Stephen? Oh yes. Stephen Mansbridge. I’d forgotten he’s a close family friend. He’s got quite a future ahead of him in the diplomatic service himself.” Bill crossed his legs. “He’s right about one thing: your father is invaluable at the moment. He’s keeping a very precarious balance between London and the rest of Europe. However, it’s becoming more and more difficult.”

  “I gathered as much. He’s been traveling more and more frequently. I know my mother is worried.”

  “Perhaps for good cause. It isn’t just Hitler and Nazi Germany, but also the Italians. The Russians are causing their fair share of problems too. We need information from everywhere, and we don’t have enough people to gather it.”

  “But surely the Intelligence Service…” Evelyn’s voice trailed off at the look on his face.

  “We’ve only just started to get more funding, and that was very grudgingly granted. It’s not nearly enough.”

  Evelyn sucked in her breath. “That’s why Josephine is working in your network,” she said in a low voice. “You’ve been recruiting nationals.”

  “Yes. We need every pair of eyes and ears that we can get. Heaven help us if Paris ever finds out.” Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. “But none of this is your concern. What is your concern is where we go from here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Bill lowered his hand and his eyes met hers.

  “You have a choice to make, my dear. And it’s not one that you can make lightly. In fact, I urge you to give it the greatest of thought. You see, not only have you been identified by the German SD, but you’ve also been rather closely involved with a member of French Army Intelligence. As far as both are concerned, you’re now working for MI6.”

  Evelyn stared at him. “What?”

  “While the story you gave Herr Voss was enough to get you out of the city and Karl back into Germany, it will not hold up long. Perhaps a day or two at most. Once it falls apart and he realizes that you are not Maggie Richardson, the only conclusion he can draw is the truth.” He
raised a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “However, we can arrange for that particular story to be air tight. It will take some doing, of course, and we’ll have to work quickly, but it can be done. If we do that, your cover will remain intact. You will continue to be Maggie Richardson on the Continent and Herr Voss will be none the wiser.”

  “But, I don’t understand,” Evelyn said. “Why?”

  “You said it yourself the other day at lunch. More must be done to discover what is really happening, not only in Germany but also in Italy, Russia, Poland, and even France. We need information above all else, and you demonstrated yesterday that you are the perfect agent.”

  Evelyn was silent for a long moment, her mind spinning. Two day ago, she would have thought this was a lark and would have jumped at the chance to have some excitement in her life. Yesterday, however, had served up a bit more adventure than she was anticipating. And that was nothing — only the beginning, if everything they had been discussing came to pass.

  “And Josephine?”

  “You may never see her again. Even if you choose to serve your country, your paths may never have need to cross again.”

  “But she knows me. She knows what I look like. She even knows my name.”

  “Not your full name?” he asked sharply, visibly relaxing when she shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry too much over that. Evelyn is a common enough name, and, if you continue, you will never use it again.”

  “And if I don’t choose to continue?”

  “You will go back to England and continue with your life. One chance encounter in Strasbourg will remain just that for everyone involved, and nothing more need be done.”

  Evelyn stood up and took a restless turn about the room. Bill watched her silently, waiting for the questions to start.

  “I would travel?”

  “Yes, but not at first. You would have to undergo extensive training so that you’re better prepared than you were yesterday.”

  “And how would I explain that to my family?”

  “There are many opportunities opening up for young people willing to serve their country. There will be any number of jobs that would explain your absences. That will all be sorted out. Your family will have no idea what you really do. And that’s key. No one can ever know what you do, or who you work for. Not even your father.”

 

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