by Dick Hardman
“I believe it was the team of four German spies you have been hunting.”
“Did any of my men manage to shoot back?”
“Eye witnesses claim it all happened so quickly, there was no chance to fire more than a few shots. The wretched traitors were uninjured.”
“But Thomas, how did the three attackers know we had their fourth man?”
“That has been puzzling me as well Sir Philip. Your team arrived out of the blue and apprehended Trocki within minutes, yet these three appeared at just the right moment. I hate to say it, but there must have been a leak regarding Steve Davis’s plan to raid the place.”
“I won’t have that Thomas. I know my people, they are hardworking and loyal, and no one would do such a terrible thing.”
“How can you be so sure Sir Philip? Traitors have been exposed in the department, in the past. Perhaps the informant did not foresee eight of his associates being murdered. All I can say is that there could not have been a better time for the spies to strike, it had to have been planned. The attackers waited until all your men were contained in their cars, they would have been excited at the success of their raid, off guard and effectively sitting ducks, waiting to be mown down.
“I cannot believe they were there by chance. If they were, just what were they planning to do together? That strikes me as a more frightening scenario.”
***
Stern could picture the scene. He realised that Davis and his men would have given no thought to the possibility of such an attack. They had just arrested a single spy and probably felt untouchable, the omnipotent government against a single adversary. They would have been prepared for a shootout with this man before his arrest, but afterwards they would be relaxed, smug, even.
Davis was a great agent, ruthless and relentless, always got his man. This time, however, the agent had been over confident, perhaps even arrogant. He had certainly underestimated Strom and his team.
Stern gave no thought to the possibility that he had driven Davis to his death with his bullying attitude, and applying relentless pressure.
It was clear to Stern that these four Germans were very special, and essential to whatever scheme Berlin had trained them for. So special that they placed themselves at risk to recover one man, rather than lose him or kill him.
Why the dickens did Davis overlook the fact that the others had to be nearby and would fight back. By all accounts the agents had just sat there, allowing the killers to walk by and murder them in cold blood. How would he be able to explain all this to the families of the dead men? It would be terrible enough at any time to break such awful news, but in a few days it would be Christmas and for the rest of the families’ lives, this would be a grim anniversary.
“What you say makes sense, Thomas, and I will investigate thoroughly, of course. I need time to absorb this bombshell you have dropped upon me and ask that you keep me informed of your own investigation.”
“Of course Sir Philip, I bid you goodnight.”
Stern placed a call to John Caplin at his home, to break the news to him. He also suggested that Davis’s immediate superior should be the one to contact the dead men’s families.
Caplin tried to imagine the ghastly scene, if he had died just like Davis. He imagined the expression on Margaret’s face as the realisation sank in. She would try and retain composure, at least until the messenger had left.
She would look around at all the Christmas decorations, the presents piled under the Christmas tree, mostly for their daughter, and her world would then crumble, for ever.
Caplin did not like Davis, although he had tremendous respect for his abilities. He knew Davis had a young family and a happy home life, and felt glad he was not to be the bearer of this appalling news.
Message to Germany. Early morning 21st December
When Peter and Andrzej arrived back at Peter’s hotel, the night porter had dozed off at the reception desk. Peter had been anxious to avoid anyone seeing Andrzej with him. To be suspected of being a homosexual was his greatest fear, and it was a criminal offence. It was considered most unnatural for two young men to spend a night together in the same room.
If MI5 or the police were to find Andrzej with him, it would blow Peter’s cover, and endanger others. Getting out of the hotel unnoticed, in the morning, would also be a problem - but one thing at a time.
Peter thought hard about the situation with Andrzej. He still had his own mission to carry out. For everyone’s safety, there were secrets that he could not share with Andrzej.
New digs for the two of them would be tricky to find in London. Perhaps Anna could take the lad? No that would be a disaster, she would be raddled like a flock of sheep and end up pregnant.
This was a long term mission. It would be at least seven months before the V-1 system was fully functional, and every member of the team was essential. Then, every night, dozens of beacons would have to be planted so the shower of V-1 hell quickly brought England to its knees. Each plant would require days of planning and many more people would be needed to plant them. Germany knew the element of surprise would be a very small window of opportunity. With so many agents and beacons in the field, the secret would soon be revealed. The British must surrender before then.
There was only one solution, Peter would have to rent a small house and hide Andrzej away. However, money and coupons were dwindling fast and so far, there was little to show for it.
During the remaining few hours before dawn, Peter coded a message to his handler in Berlin, he needed to update them on his situation.
The message read:-
Sundown created diversion when we landed at Chapman’s pool (18th) and provided transport to London. Left safe house with seconds to spare. Possible betrayal by our driver Dan Stockley, or Dr Betty Marsh. Advise Sundown.
Zebra & Ballerina employed and are building cover. Arrow arrested by MI5 last night, but we retrieved him and he is secure. 8 MI5 dead and we remain unidentified. I expect Zebra & Ballerina will be checked again today, confident they are secure, but will confirm soon. Believe Arrow betrayed, but no suspects yet. Need help to uncover traitor, suggest Ernst Huber, trusted and experienced in uncovering traitors. Advise please.
Beacon test from 18.00 26/12 to 02.00 27/12 GMT set tone 3
Confirm in broadcast 22 tonight from 18.00 – 19.00 GMT
Beacon yes (the fire is hot) no (the wind is cold)
Sending Huber yes (the grass is green) no (the sea is blue)
Drop A7 for your instructions.
Glass bx9d34m
At dawn, as a distraction Peter arranged with reception to check his hotel account, and Andrzej slipped out by the back entrance. He had to borrow a warm winter coat from Peter, as all his possessions were left behind when he had been arrested. He waited for Peter out of sight in the alley at the side of the hotel, they then went on the hunt for accommodation to rent.
Eventually they found a suitable place, the agreement was for three months, paid for up front by Peter, in Andrzej’s name. That way there would be no links if either were caught.
Peter thought it unlikely that the police and MI5 would go door to door in the area, searching for a person called Andrzej Trocki. London is a vast place to search for a man who would be long gone by now, if he had any sense. By using apparently genuine papers, the estate agent had no reason to suspect the new tenant of being anything other than what he appeared to be.
As the agreement was being typed up, Peter told Andrzej to meet him at the café several doors away. He slipped away to chalk a circle on the pavement nearby, as he tied a shoe lace. This was to indicate there was an urgent message to be collected by Sundown, at a specific dead drop. Peter then walked to the dead drop (A7), and while he sat on a park bench reading a newspaper, he pinned his coded message to the underside of the seat. Shortly after, he returned to the café to wait for Andrzej.
Andrzej arrived just a few minutes after Peter, who ordered mugs of tea and fried breakfasts. Being desperately
hungry, they quickly devoured the meal, only then did Peter explain their next move. Giving Andrzej £10 in genuine cash, he told him to get them some food, using Peter’s ration card.
“Andrzej, I have a number of urgent things to do, so settle in at your new digs and keep out of sight. I don’t know what time I will be back, so look out for me and be alert for trouble. Plan your escape route in case you need it; remember you are a wanted man, on the run from the police and security forces. They will all be hunting for you so do not think you are safe. If you have to run for it, leave a coded note at my hotel, in my name.”
“Thank you Peter. I am grateful for your help.” The stilted reply made Peter uneasy, there was no way the lad would be able to pick up English while hidden away.
Sundown calls Germany. 21st December 1943
It was 8.00am. The 5’9” tall, slim built man of around 40 years old, strolled along the cliff edge path near South Foreland Lighthouse, between Dover and St Margaret’s Bay; about the closest point to Calais. His bulky knapsack marked him as a hiker, as did his warm clothing and sturdy leather boots.
Stan Carter, or Sundown, as he was known to fellow German spies, had been touring the countryside since his dramatic ‘death’ 12 days ago, in the now derelict London terraced house. As he walked, he thought about the current situation with the world and where things were heading.
***
The war had been a blessing to this wealthy business man, engaged in processing shellac, and using some of it in his subsidiary companies. The Ministry of Entertainment were hell-bent on keeping the British spirits high, and controlled what reached the public ear.
The humble gramophone with its 78 rpm record made of pressed shellac, was a boom market. The gramophone was cheaper than radio, accounting for 2000 tons a year of shellac, or 28 million records. Shellac was also used for small moulded objects and as insulators in electrical equipment, like electric motors. Not bad for an insect secretion.
Stan left the day-to-day running of the business to others, only concerning himself with the bigger picture. When Hitler took control of Germany, he turned around its failing fortune to success, in just six years. When Stan realised Hitler was gearing up for war, he considered it prudent to hedge his bets.
In his high social position, he was privy to valuable information. He mixed with many other powerful and influential people who secretly helped Hitler whilst helping themselves, though Stan never revealed his hand to them.
Germany welcomed Stan with open arms, promising that when they won the war, his business interests would be exempt from any forfeits that would be imposed on their enemy. Stan appeared loyal to Britain in every way, but he was fostering a win-win outcome, whoever won the war.
***
Stan had now reached the cliff edge, and slid the heavy knapsack off his back, onto the ground. Sitting near a small sturdy shrub he raked his hand through the scrub, feeling for a thick thread of grass green button twine. He drew it in until the thin black wire attached to it could be connected to his powerful transmitter/receiver. The wire dangled down the tall white cliff face, to form a longwave aerial.
He took out sandwiches and bottle of water, and to the casual eye, the man was just having a picnic.
Stan was not concerned that he would be detected and located by radio direction finders, for two good reasons. Firstly, he would only transmit for a few minutes, and could quickly get back to his car if he needed to make a dash for it. Secondly, the cliff would perfectly mask the signal. It would be far too faint to be detected, by the British listening stations. Frankly, he was far more worried that the cliff edge might crumble under him.
The cunning spy also chose the tall cliff, because it provided a very high and unobstructed path to the agent in Calais, who would receive his important, coded message. Actually, the message was double coded, the header detailed who the message was for, and the body of the message could only be decoded by the intended recipient.
The radio set had warmed through, and was stable when, exactly on time, the Morse signal from Calais beeped in the single headphone. Sundown replied to establish contact with the verified operator. It looked like Stan the picnicker was searching in his knapsack, but Sundown was tapping out this vital message, for his handler in Berlin.
The body of the double coded message read:-
Sundown is believed dead by MI5. Maintain illusion because planted MI5 agent has taken my place. His/her identity unknown. Do you want plant found and eliminated or will you use for misinformation. Instructions please.
My identity intact and plant has no direct access to our agents, but warn them. Plant only has knowledge of some drop boxes, some broadcast coded messages, and shortwave. Main codes are intact and with me.
As of yesterday, Glass and team secure and have established covers. Suggest I meet Glass and work with team. Instructions please.
Sundown ad4b23mt
Stan unplugged the aerial from the set and paid it out so the wire no longer showed, he would return and use it again tomorrow. Even if someone snagged the thread while walking, the wire would fall into the sea below, and no one would be any the wiser.
A busy day for Peter. 21st December 1943
As well as his mission for Hitler, Peter Stone (Karl Strom) had a personal score to settle, for which he had to make preparations, immediately.
After leaving Andrzej at the house, Peter returned to his hotel to collect the large bag of stolen jewellery. He placed it in his empty suitcase, ready to deposit in the strong room at his bank.
Adding up what was left of his money, and what remained of the £10,000 of forged fivers Otto Dornberger had issued him with, he found there was more than enough honest cash, to meet his immediate demands.
***
It is a fact of life that people are judged by their appearance. The wealthy and powerful are the least likely to be bothered by the police, it is always the lower classes that are persecuted. Fine clothes and expensive cars are the hallmark of those beyond reproach.
Peter planned to buy an expensive car with real money, to back up his new image, and two sets of false number plates.
The car he wanted was dubbed the 'Wardour Street Bentley' thanks to its aristocratic style, at a bargain price which appealed to the more raffish elements of the contemporary Soho set.
He located a gleaming black 1.5 litre SS Jaguar saloon, 1939 model, paying £310.00 cash, and completed the necessary documents, using the address of his parents, Lord & Lady Stone, in Chelsea. He would be staying with them as soon as he had dealt with his most pressing problems.
Top-notch clothing from Bond Street was next on his agenda. The fine wardrobe of clothes at his parents’ home were mainly for high profile functions, and he required alternative garments in a style to match his new sporty, and wealthy image. However, his purchases were limited by the 16 clothes coupons he had left, out of 66, which were intended to last a whole year. Carrying his old clothes in the empty suitcase, Peter strode purposefully back to his car and drove off to get his next acquisition.
So he could listen in on the radio broadcasts for immediate answers to his message, he needed a radio set. It turned out to be very expensive and he had to do a deal with his few remaining coupons.
On the way back to his hotel, he stopped off at a small garage and ordered two sets of number plates, for collection tomorrow morning.
***
It was now late afternoon. Peter prayed there would be a message tonight on the public radio broadcast, confirming the beacon test, and that Ernst Huber would be joining him, as part of the team.
Peter checked his watch, nervously. He would soon have to leave for Gant’s Hill to check that Anna and Henryk were still safe, and had not been arrested. He had always worked alone, and the constant worry regarding their safety was getting him down. It went deeper than protecting the mission, he genuinely cared about his team, and for a loner like him this was an alarming emotion.
Henryk has a date. 21st December 1943
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Henryk lay in bed, reliving the horrific events that followed the jewel robberies, late last night. All he could think about was their narrow escape from the swarms of police at the road block. It ran through his mind like some dreadful nightmare, with countless, clawing, grabbing arms all around him, and no way out. Tired though he was, this morning he was glad to get to work and be rid of the torment.
He struggled all morning at the Gant’s Hill factory to focus on his boring lathe work, his tired brain was slow and fuzzy from lack of sleep. The tension continued to build, as he waited, expecting to be called in at any moment for interrogation. When the whistle blew for lunch, he was both relieved and deflated that it hadn’t happened yet. He rushed to the canteen, hoping to grab a seat near Anna and help her if conversation became awkward, but he was too late.
As he sat eating, a bubbly blond girl in her mid-twenties approached Henryk’s lunch table, and smiled warmly at him. He had seen her before and took a fancy to her then, but knew it was unwise to get involved more than he had to. He moved his plate and slid along the bench, to make room for her. The woman was delighted and squeezed in tightly against him.
Henryk preferred she ignore him and just eat her food, but she fancied him, that was clear.
“Jane Smith,” she announced to Henryk, and held out her soft warm hand, to shake his.
“I am delighted to meet you Jane. I’m Henryk Robak, but please call me Henryk. I hope we will be good friends.”
His broad smile assured her she would meet no resistance to friendship, and she beamed back excitedly. He saw her nostrils flare and her pupils dilate as she gazed at him. Peter had passed on some tips about people’s reactions to situations, and body language, and this definitely fell in the animal attraction category.