The Swiss Spy

by Alex Gerlis

  ***

  Minutes later he was sitting in a stuffy windowless room in the basement with a police inspector. ‘What I would like to know is what his general mood is like: what he does; how he behaves; what he says – that kind of thing, Inspector Hill. I’m sure you know the score.’

  The inspector removed a notebook from the top pocket of his uniform jacket and flicked through a few pages.

  ‘Let’s see then… in a pretty bad mood when he arrived here on Monday night, shouting the odds, insisting he had a right to a lawyer. Shut up once he’d had something to eat. Next day he was on again about a lawyer. We kept him in his cell until Wednesday afternoon when he was brought in here and I read him the riot act: told him that under emergency regulations he had no right to a lawyer. He asked for a copy of those regulations and I told him it was in the post, which didn’t seem to reassure him. Thursday: he’s still making a fuss so we bring in a couple of the plainclothes boys as you suggested and that does the trick. They tell him he’s being done for conspiracy to commit fraud and that if he pleads guilty and is terribly lucky with the judge he may get away with five years. Otherwise, he can double it.’

  ‘And how did he take that?’

  ‘Very much as we would have hoped: a few tears before bedtime. He begged to be able to send a telegram to his mother; told anyone who’d listen that there had been a terrible misunderstanding and he’d happily donate the money to charity.’

  ‘And I presume you then did as I asked?’

  ‘Of course: plainclothes boys returned on Friday morning and he provides us with a neat statement, confessing all. I have it here.’

  From a drawer in the desk between him and Edgar the inspector produced three closely typed sheets of paper, each signed with something of a flourish. Edgar carefully read then re-read the statement.

  ‘Signed on Friday 18th August, good: and since then?’

  ‘We allowed him to stew over the weekend. Other than being brought to this room and into the corridor outside his cell for exercise a couple of times a day, he’s been locked in his cell all day. He hasn’t seen daylight in a week. Even so…’

  ‘You’re hesitating, Hill.’

  ‘It’s just I would have expected someone like him to be even more affected by his ordeal. According to the guards he doesn’t sleep well, and he’s unquestionably shaken and has signed the confession, but he has a resolve about him I wouldn’t have expected. When he was first brought here he was a nervous character: quite jumpy. But I warn you Edgar, there’s a certain steel about him.’

  ‘We’ll see, shall we? Anyway, well done Hill. Good work. Better bring him in.’

  Despite what the police inspector had said, Henry Hunter looked more worn in the week since Edgar had last seen him, although his smile was still in place. He had lost a bit of weight; dark rings had appeared around his eyes along with two or three day’s growth of beard. He appeared to be relieved to see Edgar.

  ‘I thought we may meet again.’

  ‘How has your week been, Hunter? Treated well?’

  ‘Well, I haven’t been tortured, if that’s what you mean. But they wouldn’t even let me have a newspaper and I can’t believe I’m unable to see a solicitor or contact my mother. Is that right?’

  ‘Depends on what you mean by “is that right?”, Hunter. What’s correct is you’ve not been able to contact either a lawyer or your mother, whether that’s in order is entirely another matter. You’ll discover in due course that we have very good reasons for pursuing this course of action. We have, incidentally, taken the liberty of sending her a telegram in your name saying that all is well and she’s not to worry.’

  ‘Can I ask, Edgar, whether this a regular police station though? I do seem to be rather… isolated.’

  ‘It is a police station, although you are at present the only person in custody in it. I understand your predicament has been explained to you by some officers here?’

  ‘Yes. Conspiracy to commit fraud apparently and if I’m very, very lucky I shall get away with five years in prison. I’ve signed a statement.’

  ‘And did they add that if you’re found guilty or plead guilty then all of the money we found in your possession will be confiscated? After the other beneficiaries and the duty have been paid, you’ll be left with nothing.’

  ‘They didn’t mention that, no.’

  ‘So all in all, Hunter, a bit of a mess eh?’

  ‘So it would seem.’

  A long silence ensured during which Edgar lit a cigarette and wrote some notes in his book.

  ‘I’m told the prison regime is likely to be especially harsh during wartime. Most prisoners are required to undertake quite onerous physical labour.’

  Henry said nothing, unsure how he was meant to react.

  ‘However, there is an alternative Hunter. There is a way of avoiding prison and even keeping most of your money. You’d be able to return to Switzerland and see your mother again.’

  Henry’s eyes lit up and, suspicious as he was, he found it hard to suppress a thin smile.

  ‘Tell me more.’

  ‘Before I can do that I need to know for sure whether you’re interested or not.’

  ‘Yes, of course I’m interested.’

  ‘Very well then. This is, to all intents and purposes, the point of no return. Once I tell you what the alternative is, your options really are very limited. Do you understand that?’

  Henry nodded.

  ‘I work for a Government agency whose purpose is to gather intelligence. As you’re no doubt aware, this country is perilously close to war with Germany. We urgently need to expand and improve our intelligence networks across Europe; they’re in a pretty woeful state at the moment. As strange as it may seem, Mr Hunter, you are very well placed indeed. You have genuine Swiss and British passports, and are fluent in German and French.’

  Henry leant forward, his hands touching the desk, eager to hear more.

  ‘What would you require me to do?’

  ‘I had hoped I’d made that apparent Mr Hunter – Henry. To help us gather intelligence.’

  ‘Be a spy?’

  ‘Correct.’

  Outside in the corridor a metal gate slammed shut and there was a murmur of voices passing by. Henry laughed.

  ‘A spy? You must be joking: what on earth makes you so sure I’m up to this?’

  ‘We aren’t: we’ll give you some training, of course, but our priority is to get you back to Switzerland. That’s where we need you to be. For us, your dual identity and your ability to move around what may be enemy territory as a Swiss national are invaluable. And don’t forget, we have a hold over you.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘If you turn down our offer, the alternative is a lengthy spell in one of His Majesty’s prisons. Furthermore, there is the question of the money.’

  ‘You mean my aunt’s?’

  ‘Yes, the six thousand pounds that’s legally yours but which you’ll lose as a result of the court case. However, if you agree to work for us then not only will there be no court case but you’ll also receive the money: all six thousand pounds of it. A bank account will be opened in your name at the Quai des Bergues branch of Credit Suisse in Geneva. If you accept my offer, the sum of five hundred pounds will be transferred to that account immediately. Thereafter, we’ll transfer a further one hundred pounds a month into that account for as long as you work for us.’

  Henry frowned, trying to work something out. ‘Hang on. At that rate, it could take, I don’t know, years for me to receive all my money!’

  ‘Henry, you’re not obliged to take up our offer. We cannot force you to be a spy. Look, it may be a while before we call upon your services, but if you undertake any specific mission successfully then we can consider advancing further lump sums of five hundred pounds. And of course, we’ll cover any expenses you may incur.’

  ‘How about if you were to advance a thousand pounds? My mother and I have considerable debts to clear.’

&n
bsp; ‘Henry: you really aren’t in a position to negotiate.’

  ‘Will there be any danger – you said something about “enemy territory”?’

  Edgar laughed, standing up as he did so, stretching himself.

  ‘Of course there’ll be danger: plenty of it, I imagine. What’s the point of being a bloody spy otherwise! But if you ask me, even with that risk of danger, it’s still a more agreeable lifestyle than ten years hard labour here.’

  ‘Ten? I thought it would be five if I pleaded guilty?’

  ‘Believe me Henry. If you decline my offer and this goes to court, it’ll be ten years. Come on now…’ Edgar tapped his watch. ‘What’s it to be? Are you coming with me, or shall I leave you here with the police for the wheels of justice to start rolling?’

  Edgar had expected more questions, more hesitation and more signs of nerves, but with what seemed to be barely a second thought, Henry Hunter clapped his hands and allowed his thin smile to become a broad one.

  ‘All sounds most interesting Edgar. I’m ready to join you.’

  ***

  Chapter 3: to France and Switzerland, November 1939

  Henry Hunter’s training as a British agent had been entrusted to a classics don who had moved from a crumbling Oxford college to a crumbling country house somewhere north of London for the purpose of training his special scholars, as he liked to call them. He never tired of telling them that the transition from teaching classics to teaching espionage was a natural one.

  ‘Classics,’ he would say, ‘are all about war, human failings, chance and intrigue: not so very different to spying.’

  Captain Edgar had visited the country house once a week to check on Henry’s progress. He was taking his time: physical fitness was an issue, as was his radio training, but he was regarded as a brilliant map reader and became proficient with a revolver. It was only towards the end of October that the classics don conceded he was more or less ready.

  ‘My opinion is that the characteristics of a spy are innate. It is a skill one is born with: it is, I believe, part of someone’s personality. You see, we all too often make the mistake of taking someone who appears to have all the attributes of a spy then train them in the specifics of the job. They could fly through the training with an A-plus, but that wouldn’t necessarily make them a good spy. Some of those A-plus types make hopeless spies once they’re out in the field. A truly effective spy will have some personality flaw or such like which marks them out from others. They are used to walking in the shadows, on the other side of the street, slightly apart from the crowd but not so much so that people would notice them.’

  ‘Very interesting, but does Hunter make it as a spy?’

  ‘Good heavens, yes, Edgar. I don’t think I’ve ever come across someone quite so well-qualified. The most dangerous moment for a spy is when they make that transition from what one might call “normal society” into the world of espionage. For the vast majority of people that can be too great a wrench, they have too much to lose. But if you feel you’ve never really been part of society, that you’ve always been on the margins of it, then you’re a natural spy. I’ve rarely come across such a good example of this than Hunter.’

  ***

  A week later, Henry and Edgar were being driven down a lane on a moonless night when Henry chose to break the uneasy silence that had accompanied them since leaving the country house.

  ‘Can’t see a bloody thing in this dark Edgar – and what’s happened to all the road signs?’

  ‘I appreciate that you have been holed up in the country for the past three months or so Henry, but it can’t have escaped even your attention that we’re now at war with Germany, even if it doesn’t actually feel like it. Hence the blackout.’

  ‘And the road signs?’

  ‘No need to help any German spies who are lost, is there?’

  ‘Can you at least tell me where we are, Edgar?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re treating me like I’m a bloody prisoner.’

  ‘Which but for the grace of God and my own good offices, Hunter, you actually would be – and for many years. Don’t forget that.’

  ‘How could I? You know how grateful I am to you.’

  ‘Less of the sarcasm if you please, Hunter. I can tell you we’ve been driving south and we’re now in Hampshire, which is as much as you need to know.’

  ‘Any particular part of Hampshire?’

  ‘Obviously, Hunter, but you don’t need to know any more than that. In any case, you’ll be gone within a day or two. Look, we’ve arrived: better go and get some sleep. We’ll start the briefing first thing in the morning.’

  ***

  First thing in the morning for Edgar was around two hours earlier than Henry had hoped it would be. It was still dark when he was woken by a knock at the door, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock and a stiff bolt sliding open. The soldier who woke him – the same one who’d escorted him to the room the previous night – announced he would need to be ready in ten minutes.

  Edgar was sitting at a long table in a large office, the room already wreathed in smoke. He was wearing a coat and a high window was open, letting in the cold morning air and the distinctive smell of recently turned soil. The table was crowded with files and documents. As Henry entered the room, he was followed in by another soldier bearing a tray with a pot of tea, toast and boiled eggs.

  Henry had little appetite, but Edgar tucked in. He ate in silence for five minutes while Henry nibbled on a slice of toast and sipped the weak tea.

  ‘Right: now we begin! Tonight, Hunter, you will begin your journey back to Switzerland. I need to be very clear and you need to fully understand that from now on, you are working for British Intelligence. It’s a role that carries few rewards and privileges, other than that of serving your country. On the other hand, you’ll find this life that has been chosen for you will have plenty of responsibility and not a few dangers. There’ll be long periods of tedium and you’ll find the fact that you can’t confide in anyone makes it a most difficult and stressful existence. I need hardly tell you the world of espionage is not one of glamour or excitement. The most common emotions are boredom and fear.’

  Henry nodded. This was not the first time he’d heard this, but now his return to Switzerland was imminent he began to feel nervous.

  ‘I’ll spend the next few hours briefing you. I shall remind you of what is expected of you. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.’

  And so it continued for many hours. As noon approached and the sun became brighter, sandwiches were brought in along with a couple of bottles of beer. Edgar began to appear more relaxed than Henry had ever seen him.

  ‘Usually in these situations, Hunter, one spends a good deal of one’s time making sure someone in your position is absolutely familiar with their new identity. In your case, however, the Henri Hesse identity is so good, there’d be no merit whatsoever in furnishing you with a new and false one.

  ‘You leave tonight, Henry. I know that flying is your preferred method of travel around Europe, but I’m afraid that now we’re at war there are no more civilian flights to either France or Switzerland, so you’re going by boat. A troopship, the SS Worthing is leaving Southampton this evening. She’s taking a contingent of the Royal Fusiliers over the Channel. She’ll dock at Cherbourg early tomorrow morning and you’ll travel from there to Paris. You will stay in Paris tomorrow night then travel by train the following day to Geneva, using your Swiss identity. Do you understand?’

  Henry nodded.

  ‘Good. Your mother is expecting you: send her a telegram from Paris giving details of your arrival. Once you arrive, you’ll tell her as little as possible. All the letters you wrote while you were being trained have been sent on to her, along with two payments of one hundred pounds into her own bank account. As far as she’s concerned, you were staying at a guest house in Fulham while you were sorting out your aunt’s will. That was the address from where your letters were se
nt.’

  ‘It’s going to be hard to convince her why those financial arrangements took so long.’

  ‘But not as long as it could have been, eh? Don’t try and explain too much. Just tell her it was far more complicated to transfer money out of the country than you’d realised and in the end you had to settle for it being paid in instalments. The initial five hundred pounds deposit and the two hundred pounds she has been sent should ensure you can now lead a more agreeable lifestyle, along with the one hundred pounds per month, of course.’

  ‘When will I be contacted Edgar? How will I know what to do?’

  ‘Within a day or two of your arrival back in Geneva you are to go to the Quai des Bergues branch of Credit Suisse, where we’ve opened an account in your name as promised. You are to ask for an appointment with Madame Ladnier. Under no circumstances are you to see anyone else there. Madame Ladnier is a senior clerk there and looks after new clients. You are to go through paperwork with her, then she’ll activate the account and you’ll be able to access the money. Madame Ladnier is, very indirectly, a contact of ours, but you must never discuss intelligence matters with her: she is no more than a conduit, a messenger if you like. However, if you need to contact us urgently, you can do so through her. You can do this either at the bank, which is preferable, or on her home telephone number – she will give that to you. That, you understand, is most irregular, so please do be discreet. If you need to contact us urgently, simply tell her you need to change some Swiss Francs into Italian Lira. If there are any changes in your circumstances, you must inform her. Do you understand all this?’

  Henry understood. Edgar got him to repeat it.

  ‘When we make contact with you, it won’t be through Madame Ladnier. It could be in anything from a couple of weeks to a few months. Depends on what we need you to do. Chances are that the first job will be something relatively straightforward, probably within Switzerland. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous; a warm-up, if you like. What will happen is this: you’ll be approached in the street by someone asking for directions to the Old Town. What is it you call it in Geneva?’