Winston's Spy

by Robert Webber

  ‘Take care, my darling, and come home quickly; I shall be waiting for you,’ she said. As an afterthought, she added, ‘Don’t forget to ask Simon about Cordelia,’ before drifting back to sleep.

  Alex collected his raincoat and trilby before letting himself out of the flat. He was nervous about meeting the investigators and wanted to compose his thoughts, so he walked the two and a half miles, and reflected on what he would say.

  *

  On arriving at the hotel at 10.45am, he gave his name to the hotel reception and was asked to take a seat. Nearly an hour later, he was collected and taken to a small meeting room where three men, dressed in civilian clothes, were sitting at a small writing table. The room was filled with a fug of tobacco smoke, and it caused Alex’s eyes to smart.

  ‘My name is Mr Gordon, and this is Mr Stewart,’ the older man introduced the younger, ‘Mr Allen will take notes.’

  Alex wondered whether these were pseudonyms, as all could be either Christian or surnames.

  The one called Gordon invited Alex to sit in the well-upholstered but hard-backed chair facing them across the desk.

  Alex sat, and took the initiative of asking, ‘I’m sorry, but I do not smoke, and I find the atmosphere oppressive; may we have the window open?’

  Gordon thought momentarily about the request before nodding to Mr Allen, who opened the sash window about three inches. He resumed his seat and took up his notepad.

  The man called Stewart opened for the opposition by asking him to confirm his rank, name and serial number. Alex obliged.

  Gordon then spoke up, ‘Please relax, and answer our questions as thoroughly and honestly as you are able. We are tasked with uncovering the facts surrounding the death of a Stefan Horváth in Hampshire on 30th September this year. It is not our job to apportion blame or to accuse you of any wrongdoing, merely to collect as much information as possible, and examine it to build an accurate picture of all the circumstances.

  ‘You are legally obliged to assist us with our enquiries, and others may construe any refusal to do so as being an attempt to confound our investigations. Are you willing to assist us?’

  Alex indicated cautiously that he was.

  Gordon continued, ‘Thank you. Are you comfortable? Would you like anything? Coffee? Tea?’

  Alex agreed that he was comfortable and declined the offer of refreshment.

  ‘Very well.’ Gordon looked at his colleague. ‘Mr Stewart?’

  ‘You identified yourself as…’ Stewart checked his notes for emphasis. ‘Lieutenant Alexander Nicholas Carlton, service number N.21621, Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, is that correct?’

  ‘Yes,’ confirmed Alex.

  ‘You have not always been known by that name, have you?’ continued Stewart.

  ‘No,’ Alex responded calmly, ‘I was born Aleksander Nikolayevich Karlov, on 29th August 1917 in Loviisa in Finland. While living in Finland, I was also known as Alexander Nikolas Karjala, and my mother and I changed our names after we moved to England in 1929, when I was twelve years old.’

  ‘Many of us manage to survive the whole of our lives with just one name. Why have you had so many?’ Stewart questioned.

  ‘It is clear that you already know the answer to that question, but for the sake of clarity, I will explain.

  ‘My father is, or was, a hereditary count of the Imperial Russian court, and his wife, my mother, is a countess in her own right. Our family does not recognise the Bolsheviks, and our allegiance lies with the Imperial family. My father served in the tsar’s army, and we believe he was lost in battle, fighting against the Bolshevik uprising. It would have been dangerous for my mother to have remained in Russia, and she was aided in her escape, even though she was expecting me. She fled to Finland, where I was born, and we changed our names to take Finnish citizenship. When life in Finland became difficult, we came to England, where we Anglicised our name, as did many others, in order to be accepted by your society.

  ‘Doubtless, all of this would have been irrelevant had the tsar’s family and allies of Imperial Russia supported the tsar and helped to suppress the uprising, or at least made an effort to assist the Imperial family.’

  ‘Do you resent the British for failing to assist Russia?’ Gordon asked.

  ‘No, it was a decision that was taken by the government of Britain at that time, and – while I believe that my homeland would be better served under a monarchy, as is Britain – I am eternally grateful to this country for giving us sanctuary and an opportunity to live in freedom. Therefore, I am happy to assist my adopted country in its fight against the tyranny of Nazi Germany. I bear this country no ill will for past errors of judgement, and, since being given citizenship, I have always tried to be and remain a loyal subject of His Majesty,’ Alex responded.

  ‘You can understand our concern; you are an alien living in our country under an assumed name and engaged on military business of a sensitive nature, where you killed a fellow trainee,’ Stewart persisted.

  Alex was getting annoyed by this line of questioning. ‘Firstly, I was selected for this role because of my background; I did not volunteer, but I am willing to help this country in any way that I am able. Secondly, my heritage is irrelevant; if you wish to pursue that point, the lineage of King George VI is German from the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, and they only changed the family name in 1917, on the orders of the present king’s father, King George V. Does his German lineage render him suspicious? And the dowager queen, Princess Mary of Teck in the Kingdom of Württemberg, is she under suspicion also? Of course not! They have dedicated their lives to this country, which is my desire also.

  ‘So, let us stop this nonsense and accept that my intentions towards the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland are honourable.’

  Stewart’s face was becoming redder as Alex continued, and it had become a delicate shade of purple by the time he had finished.

  Gordon, on the other hand, had leaned back on the rear two legs of his chair and was surveying Alex with a sardonic smile. ‘Let us turn to the night of 30th September,’ he began, ‘Tell us, in your own words, what happened.’

  ‘We need to go back to when I returned to the Grange, so that events are chronological and meaningful,’ Alex stated.

  Gordon nodded. ‘Start from whenever you wish,’ he conceded.

  Alex recounted his story from the first time he met Stefan Horváth, occasionally stopping to answer some points that the investigators raised, but taking his interrogators through the events that led up to the incident. The meeting dragged on until 8.00pm when Gordon and Stewart rose and announced that they were going to analyse Alex’s story with the other details that they had uncovered. They confirmed Alex should report back at 11.00am the following day even though it was a Saturday (7th October).

  The men all left the room at the hotel, and Alex decided to go and track down Simon, whom he hoped would be in his office in Victoria Street.

  *

  When he arrived at the offices in Victoria Street, Alex found Simon beavering away in his cubbyhole.

  ‘How did it go?’ Simon asked.

  ‘Bloody!’ responded Alex bitterly.

  ‘Just answer their questions honestly, and it will go away soon enough,’ Simon counselled.

  ‘I could have cheerfully throttled one of them,’ Alex confided.

  Simon just said, ‘Hmm!’ He had met the investigators earlier that day and had a good idea which of them Alex wanted to strangle.

  Alex remembered the primary purpose of his visit. ‘Before I forget, Teddy has asked if Cordelia would like to be a bridesmaid; well, actually, the only bridesmaid. She was going to ask an old school friend, but she is unable to get leave.’

  ‘Yes, I don’t see why not,’ said Simon, ‘You know what girls are like; they love any occasion to get dressed up! I shall have to ask, of course, but I should think it
would be a provisional yes.’

  They shook hands, and Alex indicated that he was tired and was going home. He left Simon’s cubbyhole, and then he collected his raincoat and trilby from the cloakroom at the Victoria offices, and at once noticed that, annoyingly, the keys he had placed in the right-hand pocket of his raincoat were now in the left.

  *

  Alex arrived home at about 9.30pm, and Teddy was waiting up, listening to the wireless. Their evening together was unfulfilling; Alex was brooding about the events of the day, and wanting desperately to discuss what had happened with Teddy, but knowing that he could not. Teddy, on the other hand, was quietly satisfied with the selections and design of her wedding dress, and she wanted desperately to discuss what it looked like with Alex, but she knew that she should not. Frustrated, they went to bed at 10.00pm, and, after a tender kiss, both went to sleep resolutely.

  XXVI

  The next day Alex again reached the hotel ahead of the appointed time, and he was shown through to the meeting room promptly. Gordon, Stewart and Allen were all in their respective places, and Alex took his, without the pleasantry of shaking hands.

  The investigators asked several questions, reconfirming the information that he had given them yesterday and delving a little deeper into some points that needed clarification.

  After about one and a half hours, Gordon produced a photograph of an attractive girl who appeared to be in her mid-to-late-twenties. ‘Do you know this woman?’

  Alex glanced at the photograph. ‘No, should I?’ he asked.

  ‘Take a proper look, and tell us if you have ever seen her.’

  Both Gordon and Stewart were looking intently at Alex, watching for his reaction, and so he picked it up, examined it and replaced it on the table. ‘No, I am sure that I have never seen her; who is she?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Her name is allegedly Maarit Vermeulen, and she is the Dutch woman who was rescued from the foreshore on the night of 30th September. Are you sure you have not met her previously?’

  ‘I am absolutely certain that I have not met this woman previously,’ Alex spelled it out for the third time, ‘Why?’

  ‘It is none of your concern,’ began Stewart

  But Gordon waved him down. ‘She is the woman whom we believe Horváth was meeting on the first night that you saw him,’ Gordon said.

  ‘Why would you think that?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Well, you recall that she was pulled out of the water very near the Grange that same evening and that she was told by the local police not to leave Lymington when she was bailed the next day, but she disappeared?’

  Alex nodded.

  ‘Now she has washed up on Chesil Beach in Dorset, having been shot through the head,’ Gordon explained.

  Alex was visibly shocked. An attractive young woman, not very much older than Teddy, had been shot through the head to keep her quiet. Alex felt the bile rising in his throat.

  ‘With a.38 pistol,’ chipped in Stewart, not wishing to be left out, ‘just like your weapon!’

  ‘Which has still not been returned to me,’ said Alex evenly.

  Stewart resumed his sulk.

  ‘I think we have covered everything that we need to at the moment,’ said Gordon, ‘Are there any questions that you would like to ask us?’

  Alex asked what the procedure would be at the board of inquiry, and Gordon replied that the board would consider the evidence discovered during the investigation, and that they may call witnesses for corroboration. They would make their recommendations, either at the end when they had examined all of the evidence or in writing shortly afterwards.

  It was clear that the interview had concluded, and Gordon offered to show Alex out. They left the room, and, on the walk to the hotel lobby, Gordon spoke in confidence.

  ‘Alex,’ he divulged, ‘I’ve done several of these, and this is pretty much cut and dried, so don’t worry. The evidence that we found in Horváth’s belongings is pretty damning. If you are asked to give evidence, give it clearly and concisely, and don’t offer an opinion. The members of the board will be dressed in civilian clothes, trying to keep it hush-hush, but they will be senior military officers. They like to be buttered up, so more deference than you showed us would stand you in good stead. Incidentally, I am a major in the investigative branch of the Corps of Military Police, and Mr Stewart is a captain of several years’ experience, so we both outrank you. When talking to the board, if you are polite and show them respect, you will be all right. A few “sirs” would not go amiss. We were asked to investigate this incident because, technically, the Grange is an army establishment, although it is used and often abused by all three services.

  ‘I hear that you will have married by the time the board convenes – congratulations! I sincerely hope that the brigadier’s daughter has a more pleasant disposition than her father!’ He smiled, held out his hand and shook Alex’s. ‘Good luck to you both.’

  Alex never ceased to be amazed at how far the tentacles of Military Intelligence spread.

  He left the hotel and made his way to the Victoria offices, where he found Commander Jeffers and Simon Potts chatting in Simon’s office.

  ‘Sorry, sir, I did not mean to intrude,’ Alex apologised.

  The commander appeared affable. ‘No, come on in and tell me how it went.’

  Alex squeezed into the room and gave them a potted version of what has happened over the past two days.

  ‘There!’ Commander Jeffers encouraged, ‘I told you there was nothing to worry about.’ Changing the subject, he continued, ‘Simon tells me that the wedding plans are galloping ahead. Excellent! I hope I’m getting an invitation? Or I might have to ship you out the day before the nuptials!’ Jeffers chuckled.

  ‘Of course, sir, we are hoping to get them out by Monday.’

  ‘Alex,’ Simon said, ‘Cordelia said yes. Let us know when and where.’

  The commander excused himself and squeezed out of Simon’s office.

  After he had left, Simon continued, ‘For God’s sake don’t forget him; if you do and he ships you out, Cordelia will be frightfully miffed if I have to step into your shoes and marry Teddy!’

  They both laughed at the prospect, and Alex joked that Simon didn’t stand a chance. With that, Alex took his leave and headed back to Teddy’s flat.

  *

  When Alex arrived back at Cavendish Court, he found Harry working at his desk, polishing the buttons of a police uniform. ‘Hello, Lieutenant Carlton,’ he greeted Alex, ‘I’ve joined the Specials, and you should have seen the state of the uniform they’ve given me! Disgusting, it was, sir! It smelled horrible, and I don’t think these buttons have seen polish since they were sewn on. Taken me all afternoon, it has, sir, but it’s my first duty tonight, and I don’t want a roasting from the sergeant on my first day!’

  ‘I think you’re doing an excellent job, Harry,’ Alex encouraged him, ‘Is Miss Palmer at home?’

  ‘Oh yes, sir.’ Harry was nobody’s fool, but he played the game, nevertheless.

  ‘Jolly good!’ Alex pushed the button for the lift, and when it arrived, he said to Harry, ‘Carry on.’

  Alex took the lift and then walked along the short corridor to the flat, where Teddy was indeed waiting for Alex; she had been nervous about the investigation for the entire day, and she was worried that they would uncover something that would disrupt their marriage plans. She had almost chewed her lower lip until it was raw, and, as soon as she heard the key rattle in the lock, she flung the door open and demanded of her husband-to-be to know if everything went well.

  ‘Much better than yesterday,’ he reassured her, ‘One of them was even quite friendly! Everybody is telling me not to worry, but I cannot help it; even though the senior investigator told me that it should be plain sailing, I still have my doubts. What sort of day have you had?’

  ‘I’ve not been able
to concentrate on anything. I sent some invitations by the afternoon post, but I am sure that I have forgotten somebody,’ she declared.

  ‘So long as you remember to invite Commander Jeffers, because he has threatened to post me before the wedding if we do not invite him!’

  ‘I sent an invitation to Beatrice Phipps, but did not want to presume that she would bring who she brought to your birthday, so I just put “and guest”; do you think that’s all right?’

  ‘Yes, I should think so,’ he agreed, ‘Charles did rather imply that she was a social butterfly when it came to gentlemen admirers. We ought to send one to Charles as well; I can take that into the office.’

  Teddy then said, ‘I think I would like to go to church tomorrow; I have not been for a while, and I think that I should make my confessional before we get married.’

  ‘Good idea; I’ll come with you, and I shall bring a pillow, because I expect you will be in the confession box for a very long time if it’s been that long since you last asked for forgiveness!’

  ‘Cheeky hound!’ Teddy hit him playfully with a cushion for suggesting such a thing.

  Whether it was tiredness or a desire not to add to the list of transgressions that she would confess the next day, when Alex and Teddy went to bed a little later, they lay there talking over their plans for the last few days when they would still be a bachelor and a spinster, respectively. As the clock in the hallway struck 10.00pm, Teddy kissed Alex gently before turning over and going to sleep. Alex put his arm around her, and, before long, joined her in slumber.

  *

  The same clock woke them as it chimed 8.00am, and Teddy leapt out of bed to bathe and get ready for church. For the first time since their relationship began, Alex heard the bolt on the bathroom door slipping into place. He lay back in bed and waited for Teddy to return before rising and going to get himself ready. Alex deliberately did not lock the bathroom door, as it was often Teddy’s habit to come in and collect something or to brush her hair in the mirror, but Teddy remained firmly in the bedroom. Alex wondered if he had done something to offend, but when he came back to the bedroom with a piece of tissue stuck to a snick that had occurred while shaving, Teddy displayed the care and love of someone who worried about him very much. She fetched a bottle of Dettol and cotton wool, and, after diluting the disinfectant so that it turned milky white, she dabbed his cut until it stopped bleeding, and then she kissed it better.