by CW Browning
“And is there a lot of money in portraits?” Evelyn asked.
“A surprising amount, if you have the right clients.” Olav tilted his head and considered her thoughtfully. “Where are you from, Miss...”
“Elfman. I’m from Belgium.”
“And what brings you to Oslo?”
“I’m visiting an old friend.”
“Ah. Of course.” Something in his smile told Evelyn that he didn’t believe a word of it, but he didn’t seem inclined to pursue it. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Immensely,” she smiled. “It’s a wonderful city. Anna took me down to Drammen the other day. I had a wonderful time.”
“Drammen? Did you try the beer?”
“Yes. We had dinner on the water and then came back,” Anna said. “I told her she had to try the Aass, as it was a local brewery.”
“Drammen seems a strange place to go on a visit to Norway,” Olav said. “Do you know someone there?”
“A friend of my brother lives there,” Anna said smoothly.
Olav nodded. “Ah. That makes more sense, then.” His eyes went back to Evelyn. “Did you like the beer?”
“It was different from what I’m used to,” she said truthfully, “but I enjoyed it.”
He laughed. “I must say that you don’t strike me as much of a beer drinker. In fact, I’m having a hard time figuring you out, Miss Elfman.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Let’s just say that you’re not the normal clientele that gets referred to me,” he said humorously. “I’m usually quite good at reading people, but you’re different. I’m curious why Peder thought I might be able to help you.”
Anna looked at her and Evelyn cleared her throat.
“I think perhaps he thought you would be sympathetic to something I’m trying to do,” she told him. “But I’m not sure why he thought an artist would be helpful, to be honest.”
“Perhaps if I knew what you were trying to do?”
She looked at him for a long moment. There was nothing but polite interest in his face and she wondered, not for the first time since coming into this small flat, why Peder thought Olav would be helpful to an intelligence network. But he obviously knew something that Olav hadn’t shared with them yet, and she didn’t think he would send them here on a whim. He seemed far too sensible for that.
“I’m trying to locate people with, shall we say, skills that would lend themselves to a particular task,” she said slowly. “Unfortunately, without knowing precisely what your particular skill is, I have no idea whether or not we can be of any benefit to each other.”
Olav was quiet for a long moment, then he raised his eyebrows. “And what kind of task is it that would need doing?”
“Well, that would depend entirely on your skills,” she said with a smile and a shrug. “So, you see, it would appear that we’re at an impasse.”
He chuckled and suddenly stood.
“Come with me,” he said, turning towards the door on the left. “If Peder trusts you, then I suppose I can.”
Evelyn glanced at Anna and stood, following him. Anna was right behind her, her eyes wide with curiosity. He opened the door and went in, motioning for them to follow. Evelyn stepped into a smaller room, looking around. A large table dominated one wall, stretching the length of the room, with bright lights on either end. Spread across the center was a variety of paper and what looked like card stock, along with boxes filled with pens, ink, stamps and assorted seals. On the far side, the wall was completely bare and a tall lamp with an adjustable neck stood to the side, angled to shine on the wall.
Evelyn’s brows came together and she turned her head to find a camera set up on a tri-pod opposite the blank wall. After staring for a second, her eyes flew to Olav’s face and a grin began to pull at her lips.
“Oh!” she exclaimed softly. “Of course! Portraits.”
He nodded.
“But...Peder said you were an artist,” Anna said, looking around in confusion.
“He is,” Evelyn said, moving over to the long table and glancing at the papers. “It takes a significant amount of artistic skill to create identification papers.”
Anna gasped. “You’re a forger?” she demanded.
“I never much cared for that term,” he said with a shrug. “I provide people with a means to a new life.”
“What kind of means?” Evelyn turned to look at him. “What kinds of identification do you provide?”
“Whatever they are willing to pay for,” he said. “Passports, identification cards, papers. The more difficult they are to get, the more I charge. I can do almost anything, as long as I have an original to work from.” He went over to a box on the table and rummaged around inside before pulling out a slim case. He opened it and held it out for Evelyn to look. “I’ve even made a few of these.”
She stared down at a Soviet identification card, issued in February, before raising her eyes to his in surprise.
“How did you get this?” she asked. “These are impossible to get outside of the Soviet Union!”
He chuckled and closed the case.
“Nothing is impossible, Miss Elfman, only difficult.” He replaced the case and leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is this something that would be beneficial to your particular task?”
“Yes, it would,” Evelyn said decisively. “How much do you charge for Norwegian identification papers? And perhaps a Norwegian passport?”
“For you?”
She nodded.
“Eight hundred kroner.”
Anna let out an involuntary gasp but Evelyn didn’t blink. “How soon can you have them finished?” she asked.
“When do you need them?”
“As soon as possible.”
He studied her for a long moment, hesitating, then nodded.
“I’ll take your photograph now and I can have them for you by tomorrow afternoon. They will need to cure overnight.”
“You can’t be serious!” Anna exclaimed, looking at Evelyn. “Eight hundred kroner?! That’s ridiculous.”
Olav didn’t take his eyes from Evelyn’s face.
“You can get them cheaper elsewhere, but they won’t be as good,” he said with a shrug. “Peder didn’t send you to me for average work.”
She smiled slowly. “No, he didn’t.”
“Then let’s get started.”
Oslo, Norway
April 8
Eisenjager watched as the blonde woman walked past the alley where he stood concealed behind an iron gate. She was heading towards the tram stop on the next block. He waited a full minute before slipping out behind her. She had already reached the corner and was crossing the side street. He turned up the collar on his coat against the brisk wind blowing down the narrow street and started up the pavement, following her.
He had located the boarding house where Jian was staying easily enough. She had returned to the same lodging she had used in November, where Sturmbannführer Renner had failed to apprehend her. That was a beginner’s mistake, and one that he had thought she would make. She hadn’t disappointed. According to the very little information he had on the English agent, she was new to this game. As such, at least for the time being, he could count on her making the fundamental mistakes that all new agents made. They tended to cling to the familiar, using the same lodgings and same contacts as they had previously. Those that survived the first few months of active duty learned very quickly to never use the same lodging twice, especially when it had already been exposed. Jian hadn’t reached that stage yet, but she would. And quickly. Until then, however, her ignorance was to his advantage. It had made finding her a very simple matter.
Jian moved through the mid-morning traffic on the sidewalk with a confident stride. She never once glanced behind her, but she held her chin up and he could tell from the rigid line of her back and sh
oulders beneath her coat that she was fully aware of her surroundings. She was alert, and that would work in her favor if she made it past the next few days. It also explained why she had been so difficult for Renner to pin down. The agent may be new to the shadows, but she had the instincts of a professional, and that counted for far more than people realized. He knew this better than most, for he had started in the same manner. It was only because of his instincts that he was still alive, and had had the success that he had.
Eisenjager’s lips tightened imperceptibly as he followed the woman towards the tram stop. He had been studying what they knew of her for six months, but seeing her for the first time this morning had been something of a shock. He supposed it was her youth that had surprised him, but he couldn’t in all honesty attribute the lingering feeling of shock solely to that. There was something about the woman that made him think there was far more to her than they realized. This wasn’t simply a mere pawn recruited by MI6 to gather information. This was a weapon. He had no idea why he thought that, nor could he pinpoint what it was that made him so sure that Jian was a formidable foe, but as he spent the morning watching her, Eisenjager became more and more convinced that this young, green agent was a threat to the Third Reich.
And all threats to the Third Reich were to be eliminated.
She joined a small cluster of passengers waiting for the tram at the stop ahead, and he picked up his pace when he glanced behind him and saw the tram approaching the stop. He had no doubt that the order would come soon enough to terminate the British agent, but for now he was instructed only to watch and report. So far, the only person she had seen today was the young woman that she met for coffee. Eisenjager had recognized the woman from the descriptions in Herr Renner’s reports. It was the translator Jian had used in November. Once again, she had clung to the familiar. It would be a small mistake like that that would get her killed, he decided, joining the small throng at the stop as the tram pulled to a halt. This was going to be easier than he thought.
They all climbed onto the tram, and Eisenjager moved to the back corner where he could observe her easily without being noticed. Once he saw where she was going and who she was meeting, he would report back to Hamburg with his findings on both Jian and the airports and train stations in and around Oslo. The information on the infrastructure would be forwarded to the SS and the invasion troops, enabling them to secure the capital quickly tomorrow, when Operation Weserübung commenced. By nightfall, Oslo would be in German hands. Then he could concentrate on Jian.
But first things first. He would see who she was meeting and where she was going today. That would give him a good idea of her purpose in Oslo, and of the network that she was in contact with here. Once the Gestapo had rolled up the network, they would know exactly what the agent’s plans were.
And then he would go to work.
––––––––
Evelyn lifted her hand to knock on the door. Olav’s building hadn’t improved with the knowledge of what to expect, and she was fairly certain that the strong smell of garlic in the hallway hadn’t been there yesterday. As her gloved knuckles fell on the wood, she resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose and instead glanced over her shoulder towards the stairwell. All of her instincts seemed to be in overdrive this morning. She had felt unusually on edge ever since leaving the boarding house, and yet there was no reason for her to feel so uneasy. Everything was going surprisingly well on this visit to Oslo, despite her initial reservations about attempting to build a network for MI6 on foreign soil. Perhaps Bill was right. Perhaps she was made for this.
Olav opened the door and nodded to her, standing aside so that she could enter the apartment. As he did so, he grimaced.
“I’m sorry for the smell,” he said, closing the door behind her. “Mr. Lotte at the end likes to cook and, as you can tell, gets carried away with the garlic at times. He spent a month in Sicily last year, and that was all it took.”
Evelyn laughed. “At least it confines itself to the hallway,” she said.
“That is true. Come. Everything is ready for you.”
He led the way through the living room to the small room on the other side and went in. Evelyn followed, blinking in the dim light. The curtains were pulled tight over the window and only a single lamp shone in the corner.
“Oh. Let me open the curtains,” he said. “I pull them closed when I’m working, but it makes it very dark in here.”
Olav crossed to the small window and threw open the curtains, letting in the murky daylight from the overcast sky. The room brightened considerably, and Evelyn looked at the long table along the wall. Most of the clutter had been pushed to the end, but in the center was a passport and two identification papers.
“May I?” she asked, motioning to the table.
Olav nodded. “Please.”
Evelyn walked over to the table and picked up the passport, examining it closely.
“Here.” He walked over to the bright lamp he’d used the day before when taking her photograph and switched it on. “Bring it over here and look under the light.”
Evelyn did so and stared at the passport in surprise. It was a perfect duplicate of a real passport.
“This is fantastic,” she murmured, turning it over. “It looks just like the real thing.”
Olav smiled faintly. “That’s what you’re paying me for.”
She glanced up and nodded, a smile coming to her lips. “So I am.”
She turned and went to pick up the identification papers, finding that they were of the same superior quality.
“You have quite a talent,” she said, turning to face him. “Really, it’s quite exceptional.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you.”
Evelyn set them down and opened her purse, pulling out a stack of bills. She held them out to him.
“I appreciate this,” she said, “and thank you for doing them so quickly.”
Olav took the money, counting it quickly.
“You’re welcome.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “But I have a strong feeling that you didn’t come only for identification papers.”
Evelyn smiled and shook her head.
“No, I didn’t. I would like to ask if Anna can use your services in the future,” she said. “You will, of course, charge your usual rates, and you would be paid extra for your discretion.”
He studied her thoughtfully for a long moment.
“How much extra?”
“Ten percent?”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Simply for my discretion?” he asked. “Discretion is already part of my business.”
“Consider it as added insurance against any...possible unpleasantness.”
To her surprise, he chuckled.
“That also is already part of my business,” he told her, tucking the money into his pocket. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, his eyes on her face. “Let’s dispense with the games, shall we? Who do you work for and why are you really here? I know it wasn’t just to get a passport and papers. Tell me what you’re really asking me to do, and I can give you an honest answer.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Very well. I work with the British embassy, and I’ve been authorized to arrange for certain safeguards in the case of a German invasion of Norway.” She paused, then shrugged. “There are many who believe such an invasion is imminent. If it is, then Norway will need people who are willing to help others oppose the Nazis.”
His face was unreadable as he stared at her across the room.
“And those people will need identification to move freely,” he said slowly.”
“Something like that.”
“And why is England so interested in helping the people of Norway?” he asked.
Evelyn’s lips twisted dryly. “England is interested in anything that will help her win the war.”
Olav was silent for a lo
ng moment, then he sighed.
“If the Nazis come to Oslo, I will have more problems besides this,” he finally said, waving towards the equipment in the room. “I have been very outspoken in the past about my political leanings, and the Nazis don’t tolerate communists.”
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “You’re a communist?”
He nodded. “Yes. So, you see, this places me in a rather awkward position.”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that it does,” she said slowly. “What do your political leanings have to do with aiding your fellow countrymen?”
“Is that what I would be doing?” he asked her softly. “Would I be aiding them, or the British government?”
“Both, but the immediate benefit would be to Norway. If the Germans invade, and it really does seem likely that they will try at some point, the only hope will rest with your people. They will have to be the ones to resist.”
Olav was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together into a thin line. Evelyn watched him, unable to read his expression. He was clearly in two minds over the proposition, but she had no idea which option he would choose.
“And Peder?” he finally broke his silence. “Is he also lending his support to this scheme?”
Evelyn shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “He doesn’t want to oppose his government until there is no other choice. If there is an invasion, then he will use his radio to help us. Until then, he remains neutral.”
Olav’s lips twisted. “That sounds like Peder. Always practical and loyal to what he perceives as the right thing.” He was quiet again for a long moment, then he sighed. “Peder will be invaluable if there is an invasion. His skill with radios is exceptional.”
“Just as yours is with this,” she said softly.
Olav smiled. “I am one of the best in the city,” he agreed, “but there are others. I am not the only one. However, they might not even consider this. What you’re asking isn’t just for me to provide identification for enemies of the Third Reich, but for me to risk my own freedom and life to do so.”