“Whisky with a drop of water,” she smiled.
“My choice exactly,” he grinned, taking his own glass to top up. “Did you find the café okay I told you about?” he asked, declining Griselda’s offer to pay for her drink.
“Yes, I had a very nice meal there, but I must say you have some very lively pubs around here. I went into the one on the right-hand side just down the road to get some cigarettes, things were in full swing there.”
“Oh! ‘The Bay Horse’ – yes, it can get rather rowdy in there, a lot of the factory workers use it,” he said easing closer to her.
Griselda felt the chemistry working between them and by eleven o’clock the rest of the guests had retired to their beds and she was the only one left in the bar.
“Well, I suppose I had better make a move,” she said reluctantly, hoping her remark would create the response she wanted. Why was she so attracted to him? Hell! She knew why, he was tall, dark, very good-looking and unattached; he had told her that during the course of the evening and there was the sexual frustration she was feeling. Sex had played a big part in her life while being with Guntram; his insatiable appetite to make love had now ended and had left an unfulfilled emptiness in her life.
Matt looked at her longingly. “I don’t think that’s really what you want just yet, is it Valerie?” he grinned stroking her leg.
“What had you in mind?” she asked moving slightly as his hand went under the hem of her skirt.
“Well, we have the bar to ourselves, all the guests are in so we won’t be disturbed; just give me a few moments to lock up and put out the hall light, then we’ll have another drink,” he whispered.
“Sounds good to me,” she replied in a mature tone.
“I won’t be long,” he said, sliding off the stool.
Griselda took the time while Matt was gone to compose herself; she had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
“Now, where were we?”
“I think you were going to get us both another drink,” she smiled, gently moving the stool seat from side to side.
“Yes. That’s right I was, wasn’t I?” he said seductively. “Valerie, may I make a suggestion?”
“I’m always open to suggestions,” she replied, knowing full well what was coming.
“I’ve an unopened bottle of malt whisky in my apartment upstairs, we could always go up there and have a nightcap; we would be a lot more comfortable than in here,” he proposed.
Griselda looked into his eyes. “I’m sure we would,” she smiled picking up her shoulder bag and slipping off the stool. “Lead the way!”
His apartment lay at the rear of the hotel and Griselda was more than impressed with the size and décor as she was guided into the lounge area.
“Now! Whisky. Oh! I’d better get some water first.”
“You have a nice place,” she commented, as she sat down on the comfortable sofa and took stock of the three paintings of ladies in various stages of undress and the small nude sculpture on a display cabinet.
Matt smiled when he returned with the water and saw her looking at the paintings. “Do you like my ladies, lovely aren’t they? Let me show you Ramona in the bedroom.”
Griselda was overwhelmed as the lights were turned on, revealing a bedroom planned to the last detail for seduction. The lights gave off a warm glow that was reflected back by the crimson wallpaper; a large double bed took centre stage adorned by two stylish bedside cabinets, but the most impressive feature of the room was the large painting above the bed of a beautiful woman in a very enticing pose. Griselda took a sip of her whisky and followed the graceful lines of the woman’s body. “Is Ramona the name the artist gave her?” she asked.
“No! That’s the name I gave her, it’s a name I’ve always liked.”
“Well, she’s very beautiful and I’m sure she gives you a lot of enjoyment when you look at her, but you can only get pleasure from the real thing,” she said, turning to face him.
“That is very true,” he said softly taking her in his arms and kissing her with intense feeling.
Griselda knew the rules about getting involved in intimate relationships while on operations. With Guntram it had been different: with them both being on the same side and working for the same cause, their relationship had been inevitable living under the same roof. But she had been attracted to Matt when she first saw him and although he was the enemy, she wanted to make love to him; it had been a feeling of need that had grown ever stronger the more she got to know him. She felt her body responding to his touch; she had no will power to resist as he pressed firmly against her and she put up no resistance as he slowly unbuttoned and removed her blouse.
*
Griselda lay still, eyes closed; she had a feeling of contentment and satisfaction as she listened to the distant early morning traffic. She felt her body responding to the thoughts of their love making and resisted the temptation to caress herself. Matt had been the perfect lover, not just because of his staying power but the tenderness he had shown towards her, something Guntram had never done. She felt warm and comfortable within the confines of his bed and didn’t want to move but the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and along the landing made her open her eyes and focus on the door as it was slowly opened and Matthew appeared carrying a cup and saucer.
“Good morning! I didn’t know whether you were awake or not,” he said, sitting down on the bed and placing the cup and saucer on the bedside table next to her.
“Morning! I was awake,” she replied, easing herself up slightly so she could drink but cautious not to show off too much of her nudity. “Why did you get up so early?” she asked.
“I had to do the breakfasts. The lady that normally does them is not too well by all accounts.” He smiled, captivated by her beauty.
Griselda read his thoughts as the cup was taken from her and she was pressed firmly against the pillow and submitted to a series of long lingering kisses. Moving her legs, she murmured as he began to arouse her sexuality. “Come back to bed,” she whispered softly.
Pulling back gently from her he stroked her hair. “I wish I could but I can’t, the breakfasts haven’t finished yet, there is only the young waitress and myself down there so I had better get back,” he answered, breaking loose from her and making for the door.
“You’re a let-down Matthew Raines, arousing a woman like that, then walking away from her.”
Matt turned and looked at her. “I wasn’t a let-down last night, was I? You were very vocal if I remember rightly during our love making,” he grinned, opening and closing the door behind him.
Griselda frowned. She had to admit he had taken her to the heights of ecstasy. Rolling over onto her side her eyes settled on her underwear and clothing that had been picked up from the floor and now lay neatly folded on a chair, which made her wonder how many female guest in the past had fallen under Matthew’s charm. After washing and dressing she made her way down to the dining room and found the place quite busy with several late risers who greeted her accordingly as she walked over to an empty table and sat down. Griselda felt as though eyes were watching her, as if the other guests somehow knew she hadn’t slept in her own bed. Guilty feelings started to creep into her mind mainly for betraying her country and sleeping with the opposing side, but what the hell, what Berlin didn’t know about they wouldn’t worry about, she thought, casting an eye over the menu. After breakfast she carried her tea into the lounge and while enjoying a cigarette kept a constant eye on the Warners’ property, which to her annoyance showed no sign of life. Bored with her watch-keeping and having Matthew on her mind she decided to go up to her room to get her coat then catch the tram into Manchester and take a chance on making a cash withdrawal. The arm that slipped tightly around her waist as she reached the top of the stairs and pulled her close she knew instantly was Matthew’s.
“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, rolling her in his arms.
“I was thinking of going into Man
chester for the day, if you must know,” she answered, hooking her arms under his so their bodies pressed firmly together.
“You will be back tonight?” he queried, with an expression of hope on his face.
Griselda leaned forward and kissed him. “Of course I will, I haven’t finished with you yet Matthew Raines,” she winked, their privacy being disturbed by a couple leaving their room.
“I’ll see you later then?” he whispered quietly, before heading off downstairs.
Why she took one last look from her bedroom window along the street before leaving she wasn’t sure, but the sight of a woman in her mid-forties walking towards her who she instantly recognised as Martha Warner gave her some hope of freedom and getting back to Germany. Quickly grabbing her bag she hurriedly made her way down to the reception and was glad to find it unoccupied; dropping her room key in the box provided she waited until Martha had passed the hotel then she fell in behind her to follow her from a discreet distance. The tram stop was quite busy so she had no problem joining the end of the queue without being observed. The only seat available on the top deck was three seats behind where Martha was sitting but as the tram rattled its way towards the city centre Griselda was able to move behind her as the passengers alighted at their designated stops. Confident that she wouldn’t be overheard she decided to make contact. “Don’t turn round Martha, it’s Griselda. I’m in desperate need of your help, where can I meet you?” she said quietly.
Martha Warner was immediately suspicious in the way she had been approached and her name used so decided on the mistaken identity ploy. “I’m sorry you must have the wrong person, I don’t know of anybody called Griselda,” she replied staring out through the window.
Griselda was surprised at Martha’s rejection but out of sheer desperation decided to try again. “Please Martha I need your help, I’m on the run from somebody who will kill me if he finds me,” she pleaded.
Martha knew she needed to verify who was sitting behind her and the only way to do that was to make eye contact then take the appropriate action. A cigarette that required a light was a simple way of coming face to face with her adversary. “Would you have a light?” she asked, resting her elbow on the back of the seat and recognising at once it was who she said she was.
“Yes, of course,” Griselda smiled, taking out a box of matches from her bag.
“Thank you,” she acknowledged turning back to look at the busy streets below and turn over in her mind how to respond to the difficult position Griselda had put her in. Firstly she had no way of knowing if she was still loyal to Germany or if she had been turned and recruited by the British and was now trying to infiltrate their organisation. But then there was loyalty to an old friend who was in trouble and needed her help. She turned the circumstances over in her mind for a few moments before deciding what action to take. She had worked alongside Griselda for quite a long time in the early days and had got to know her little idiosyncrasies; a gesture, habits, and the way she did things, so she felt if she had turned traitor and was working for the British she would soon identify the signs and eliminate her.
“This is highly irregular, but I will help you for old time’s sake. Do you remember the contact place in ‘Area 3’?” she said quietly.
“Yes,” Griselda replied, her confidence now restored by Martha’s response.
“Good! I’ll get off at the next stop, you go on to the one after. I’ll meet you there at twelve thirty by the bowling green. I’ll wait fifteen minutes; if you don’t turn up, I shall leave, is that understood?”
“I’ll be there, you can count on that.”
*
Peel Park was noticeably quiet and apart from a dog walker Griselda saw no one else until she saw Martha sitting opposite the bowling green, who immediately got up and came towards her.
“Embrace me, then start laughing as though you haven’t seen me for a while, it’s a precautionary measure just in case someone is watching,” she said quietly.
After doing what she had been asked they then strolled at a leisurely pace while Griselda explained her dilemma, being immediately interrupted when she mentioned the name of Guntram Bayer.
“I’ve heard of this Guntram Bayer from another agent. Go on, what happened next?” Martha prompted.
After narrating the remainder of her plight Griselda stopped and turned to face her long-time friend. “Now do you see why I’m in extreme need of your help? If he finds me, I know he will kill me.”
Martha Warner could see the fear in Griselda’s eyes and tried to reverse the roll and how she would have reacted if being in the same circumstances. “Where are you staying now?” she asked.
“I’m at the ‘Raines Hotel’.”
“Good! And how are you off for money?”
“I’ve enough to last me a couple of days, in fact I was going to go into Manchester and risk a withdrawal this morning until I saw you coming along the street from my room,” Griselda smiled.
“You mustn’t do that! If British Intelligence are on to you, that’s one of the things they will be watching for,” Warner replied sharply.
“I knew it was risky, but when needs must.”
“I know! What I want you to do Griselda is stay where you are at the ‘Raines’ until I’ve contacted headquarters and have some orders for you, okay!”
Griselda nodded, pleased that Martha was willing to help her even though it was in violation of Abwehr orders. “So how will you make contact with me?” she asked.
“What time is breakfast in the hotel?”
“Between seven and nine-thirty.”
“Perfect! Have your breakfast early and be back in your room by eight and be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. I usually walk past the ‘Raines’ about quarter passed eight to catch the tram into the city centre; your cue to follow me will be if I stop and adjust the hat I’ll be wearing. Now the trams are very busy at that time in the morning and will work in our favour; make sure you stay close to me either in the queue or on the tram but don’t speak to me, wear the coat you have on now because sometime during that period I will slip into your coat pocket your instructions as to what you are to do, is that understood?” Warner said with an uncompromising look.
“Yes, I’ve got all that.”
“Now, here is some money, it isn’t a lot but it will keep you going until I can arrange some more for you. God help us if the Fuhrer ever gets to hear about this, I’m sure we’ll both be shot.”
Griselda cringed at the thought .“Thanks Martha, I’ll never forget what you are doing for me.”
“I know! Anyway I must get back to the office now, and you watch your step, okay!”
“I will,” Griselda answered as she watched her walk towards the park gates without once looking back in her direction.
Chapter Sixteen
GUNTRAM BAYER’S determination to get back to Germany took precedence over everything else; he knew the film and the information he had gathered was of vital importance and went to the very top of high command, to Hitler himself, but the sudden disappearance of Griselda weighed heavy on his mind. It had been his intention to eliminate her before he left for Scotland; he had always prided himself on leaving no loose ends, but with her going to ground, she was now a danger to the entire operation, especially if she was caught and began to talk to try and save her neck from the noose. Stopping once to enquire where the railway station was, he had reached the approach road, but the sight of a police car parked in front of the station entrance made him stop and re-think his travel plans. He fared no better at the bus station, which made him think that the police car he had stolen the night before had already been found and that he needed to get away from the place as soon as possible. His chance came in the form of a motorcycle which had been left unattended in a deserted alleyway. Pushing it away from the rear of the house to a nearby street, the two-stroke engine took a little coaxing before finally starting at the third attempt, filling the cool morning air with a cloud of blue smoke. Usin
g a pre-war map that he carried in his travelling bag, he headed in the general direction of Balsall Common, keeping as much as possible to the side roads; skirting around Birmingham he passed unhindered through Coleshill, the motorcycle eventually grinding to a halt on the outskirts of Lichfield, starved of fuel. Concealing it at the rear of a farm building in the corner of a field, it took him a further forty-five minutes of steady walking to reach the town centre and the railway station, which to his relief was free of a police presence. After purchasing his ticket and with a two-hour wait for the Manchester train, he utilised the time to wash and shave in the gent’s washroom and eat in the station café. Having not slept in over thirty-six hours, he was in the early stages of sleep as the train made its way northwards when he felt himself being gently shaken, making him automatically reach for the knife in his pocket, but releasing his grasp on it when he saw the ticket inspector looking down at him.
“Ticket please sir!”
Nodding but still not fully alert, Bayer handed him the ticket from his inside pocket without realising that the Inspector had caught a fleeting glance of the Walther tucked in his waistband.
“Change at Manchester sir,” the Inspector stated, clipping the ticket and handing it back.
“Thanks!” he answered.
Manchester’s London Road Station was a hive of activity when they arrived and as he joined the throng alighting the train, he had no way of knowing that he was under surveillance by the station police. But ever watchful, it had been the man’s behaviour that drew Bayer’s attention to him as he stood checking the platform he wanted for the Glasgow train. Walking casually to a paper stand, he bought an evening paper and, under the pretext of scanning the news headlines, ran a careful eye around the station. Bayer soon picked out a second man directly opposite, also using the same technique to carry out his observations and who quickly dropped his head when he saw him looking at him. A smirk spread across Bayer’s face. “So you want to play that game, do you? Well this is no second-rater you’re up against here you dummies,” he said quietly to himself as he cast an eye over the arrival and departure board. His train, although at the platform, didn’t leave for another twenty-five minutes, which gave him plenty of leeway to carry out his plan of deception if timed right. Buying a platform ticket, he made his way at a pace that his followers could keep him in sight on the adjacent platform to the one he wanted and there, mingled amidst the scenes of tearful goodbyes from wives and girlfriends, Bayer had noted that the distance between the carriages was only a few metres; the deception would come changing from one train to another without his pursuers noticing. Reaching the front section of the train, he could hear the sound of carriage doors being closed behind him as the train prepared to get underway. Leaving it until the last minute, and making sure he was seen boarding, he eased his way through several naval ratings to the door on the opposite side, and waited. The sound of the guard’s whistle being blown was the signal to put his plan into action.
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