Love is the death of me

by Dick Hardman

  ***

  At 1.30 am the security chief at Camp 020 phoned to report the night’s events to Sir Philip Stern, and John Caplin was about to uncover any secrets Henryk Robak might have hidden. This was encouraging news for the head man, at last they had a breakthrough. More importantly, his man John was heading the team in the field, personally.

  ***

  A somewhat frail man in his early 60s approached the seated prisoner and spoke in a calm, unthreatening manner.

  “My name is Ken Roper, I am the senior interrogator and I have some questions for you.

  “Henryk Robak? That is the name on your papers, but what is your real name?”

  “Horst Loehr, I am a German spy, code name Zebra. You have been looking for us since we landed in Dorset on the 18th December.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “That depends on you? If you cooperate fully, then I can recommend we don’t need to trouble the hangman at Pentonville Prison.”

  “You do realise that I am not the team leader, and I only know what I needed to know to carry out my part of the mission.”

  “Yes Henryk, Karl Strom is your leader and I want you to help us find him. Will you help us?”

  “I can only tell you what I know, perhaps that will be enough for you to find him.”

  “Where is Karl Strom now?”

  “Somewhere in London, near Gant’s Hill, where I work. I have no idea what his address is. I only make contact when I see a chalk mark on a newsagent’s shop wall between work and my flat. I collect messages from a park seat, pinned under the seat boards. I was supposed to meet him earlier at 10.00pm but I needed to see Jane at that time.” Henryk burst into tears, sank his head into his arms and sobbed uncontrollably again.

  Ken Roper ignored the display of emotion and pressed on with the interrogation, it was going very well.

  “What about the others in your team, Henryk?”

  “The young man you captured on the 20th, Andreas, he became a liability for Strom and as far as I know, he is probably dead. He could no longer work in the factory, and he was a risk to us all if he remained in hiding.”

  “There was a woman on the team, tell me about her.”

  “Ah yes, her German name is Helga and I expect she is using it here in England, I was never told anything else. As soon as we left the safe house here in London, we were split up and I have not seen her since the night we took back Andreas. I presume she had a job to go to like I did at Gant’s Hill. She was a typist I believe, so she probably works in an office somewhere. I don’t believe it is in London though, I heard Portsmouth mentioned.”

  “What were you trained to do for your part in the mission?”

  “I was chosen specifically for my machinist skills and good English language. We undertook hand to hand combat training and survival skills, probably to endure the cold water because we swam ashore at Chapmans Pool. I can only guess, but that may have been the reason for the meeting tonight. Perhaps Strom was going to give me orders for the mission. Again, I can only guess, but he got me the job at Gant’s Hill, so the mission must be to sabotage the factory. I had to leave written reports about what was going on in there, hand drawn maps, time tables, names of people who worked there, any information I could get from them.

  “It has to be something going on there, because where else could I help Germany. If the factory was damaged, it would harm your war effort. There must be an organised group working in there, and maybe we were to be made known to each other, then the pieces of the plot would fall into place.

  “What time is it Ken? I haven’t eaten since lunchtime and I don’t feel well. Could I have something to eat and drink? I am cooperating, aren’t I?”

  “Yes Henryk, you are being very helpful. It is now 1.55 am, so it is the 23rd. I could do with a cup of tea myself, I will get you one, and a sandwich. How would that be?”

  “That will be wonderful, thank you Ken.”

  Ken realised Henryk appeared to have taken to him, he no longer seemed threatened, and was keen to tell everything he knew. His prisoner was fixating on the paperclip he had picked up from the desk earlier. As he gave up the information, it was the inanimate object, the clip that he was speaking to, not Ken. The guilty tended to do this, because in their confused minds, the object could keep the secret.

  Satisfied the spy was stable Ken slowly got up, nodded to the guard nearby to watch the prisoner and went for refreshments. When he returned a minute or so later, Henryk was slumped forward with his hands in his lap, staring vacantly at the desktop.

  Henryk devoured the sandwich and washed down each mouthful with a gulp of tea, like he was late for work.

  ***

  Ken decided Henryk was too comfortable in the circumstances and, although the information was flowing, there was practically nothing he could verify. He was also no nearer to locating the other three and John Caplin was glaring at him, impatiently. He decided to break the man emotionally and then, in a moment of blind fury, the spy would blurt out the remaining information.

  Ken’s tone became severe. “You know, if Jane were still alive, she would be here listening to you. You do realise that she was acting her part in your capture, don’t you?”

  Henryk snapped back indignantly. “No! She wasn’t acting, we loved each other. Just before she died she looked at me and smiled, she had forgiven me.”

  “Ah yes, she did look at you and smile, didn’t she. However, it was not forgiveness in her smile, but knowing she was dying and you had been caught as the vicious spy that you are. You didn’t love her, you used her and you brutally murdered her to protect yourself.”

  The deliberately cruel words sank home. How could he have believed for a moment that she had forgiven him, after what he had done to her? Henryk broke down again into a sobbing heap. A broken man with nothing left to cling to but a miserable life of regret.

  The ringing of a phone and the raised voice of John Caplin disrupted everyone’s concentration. The man was in a rage, that was certain and it had everything to do with Karl Strom.

  ***

  “Andrzej, it is now almost 1.55 am, if Henryk and Anna have been under interrogation since the evening of the 21st, they must be close to breaking. We must act quickly, or it will be too late. ”

  Peter rushed off to the nearby phone box and made his call. He asked the operator to connect him to MI5 immediately; it was a matter of grave importance. A moment later he was put through.

  “I want to speak to the person in charge of the investigation of four German spies, three men and a woman, don’t delay, I cannot stay on the line. If I go, you will never be in time to prevent the coming disaster.

  “Hurry man hurry!”

  A moment later, a weary voice answered.

  “Hello, Caplin here.”

  “Who is that?” asked Peter, determined to get the full name of his nemesis.

  “John Caplin here. Who are you?”

  “Hello John, you have been trying to find me and my three German spies. You tried to take one of my men on the 20th and it cost you eight men.

  “That is you, isn’t it?”

  Caplin was hesitant; this was not a conversation he had imagined in his wildest dreams.

  “I am closing in on you, Karl Strom that is certain. Your man is about to tell me everything.”

  “Gullible to a fault! Do you tell your staff every crucial thing? I doubt it. What makes you so certain he knows anything that will actually be of real use to you? By the time your men follow down the leads, it will be far too late. Germany has nothing to fear from deskbound buffoons like you.

  “You British are facing a catastrophe that you are powerless to stop. The newspapers will be full of the disaster and you, John Caplin, will be the person held solely responsible!”

  Peter hung up.

  “If that does not drive you into my clutches, I don’t know what will.” He muttered to himself.

  Caught off guard, Caplin instinctively reacted to the c
oincidence of Strom’s call and Henryk Robak’s arrest. Perhaps Strom already knew Robak had been caught. That possibility alone made Caplin’s hackles rise. The damned spy knew far too much.

  Anger had got the better of Caplin, causing him to run off at the mouth. Even with Robak in cuffs, he was far from closing in on Strom and the rest of his team.

  When Strom goaded him about his lack of ability, hiding behind a desk, it struck to the very heart of his insecurities. He knew deep down that luck had seen him through, not the skill and dedication of a man like Steve Davis. God rest his soul!

  Strom’s final threat of disaster and the newspapers blaming Caplin for it, threw him into blind panic. Publicly shamed! How could he face family and friends after that?

  ***

  Ken Roper inwardly cursed John Caplin for disrupting the flow of the interrogation with his outburst.

  He broached his next question to Henryk.

  “Do you have a place where you keep weapons, explosives, things like that?”

  Henryk had heard enough of the phone conversation to realise it must be Peter who had riled John Caplin. The coincidence of Peter calling, causing the very distraction he needed, was god sent. Peter must be a psychic. At least someone cares about me and is trying to help.

  Henryk decided his moment had come to strike.

  “Give me a pencil and paper and I will write down the address for you Ken. You will find everything I have is there.”

  Ken took out a sheet of paper and a new sharp pencil from his desk drawer, and placed it in front of Henryk. With his cuffed hands crossed, he slowly and deliberately picked up the pencil and pulled the paper into position. He paused for a moment, thinking, then he looked around the large open plan room with office staff working away at their desks. He wrote the address of his lockup, slid the paper a few inches away from him and let the interrogator reach forward to pick it up.

  Anna’s reply. 23rd December 1943

  The grandfather clock struck its final note. As the deep rich tones faded to silence, about half a minute into the new morning, Anna had decided on her response to Sir Matthew’s marriage proposal. She could see he was becoming increasingly tense, perhaps it was not wise to tease him this way. He would not be familiar with the experience. Still, she needed time to decide, and the din from the clock was a reasonable excuse for her hesitation.

  “Will you still expect me to call you Sir Matthew?” Anna enquired.

  He burst out laughing. “Yes of course, in company, just as I will call you Lady Anna. Is that so terrible?”

  “No, not when you put it like that, of course not.

  “I have two Christmas surprises for you Sir Matthew, I wonder if you have anything for me?”

  “It depends on your answer to my proposal, Anna. I dare not say more than that.”

  “Well, I would be pleased to accept your offer of marriage. Do you have a date for the wedding?”

  “Thank you, thank you so much Anna, I know we will be so happy together.” His stilted reply came as no surprise to her, he was so used to getting everything he wanted, she thought herself lucky to have had a thank you, let alone two of them.

  “I will announce the wedding in the paper tomorrow and the celebrations will be on the 3rd January. I will instruct the vicar in the morning.”

  “Will it be possible to arrange the wedding at such short notice?”

  “Does the church need expensive roof repairs?” Sir Matthew countered.

  “Does the vicar need the money?” he countered again.

  “I think he will make it happen, just you wait and see.” Anna could see the man controlled everything in his universe, and what he could not manipulate, he would crush out of existence.

  “Tell me Anna, does that meet with your approval?”

  “Perfectly Sir Matthew, did you like my first Christmas surprise?”

  He looked slightly taken aback, but laughed it off. He didn’t think her acceptance was a surprise, more a foregone conclusion.

  “What is your second surprise, future Lady Anna?”

  “As a man of honour, who is committed to marrying me, I would be delighted to share his bed and make him the happiest man alive.”

  “Then I feel we should retire, and I can reveal the surprise I have for you.” He beamed with anticipation, his eyes wide with excitement at the thought of the night with Anna.

  To seal the deal, they kissed passionately and, arm in arm they climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

  ***

  Sir Matthew was certainly a consummate lover, taking great care not to rush to the final moment. Their passion was consuming and there were no barriers between them. Anna was free to take the initiative any time she wanted. She also believed he had become sexually frustrated without a wife, and she was young and very desirable.

  She started to panic after he made love for the third time, they were both exhausted, but he was a long way from stopping. She tried everything she knew to help him and he was delighted by her imaginative activity, but she had to tell him to stop in the end.

  He cleaned up and they slept for a while. She was later awakened by his desperate attempt at satisfying himself in the bathroom.

  Perhaps he would get tired of the novelty and life in the bedroom would gradually become normal; if not, something would have to change, after she became Lady Anna.

  Strike. 23rd December 1943

  Using the paperclip, Henryk had earlier picked the lock of the handcuffs, leaving them closed but very slack on his wrists.

  As Ken Roper reached across the desk for the paper detailing the address of the lockup, Henryk grabbed Ken’s hair with his left hand forcing his cheek to the desk top. The sharp pencil he had just used to write with slipped deep into Ken’s earhole. Henryk hammered it down into the man’s brain with blows from the palm of his right hand. Ken died in an instant.

  Before anyone could react, Henryk had made a dash for the exit and down the passage towards freedom. Surprised staff grabbed at him as he barged past, he wrenched open one leaf of the heavy double entrance door and took off. Until his night vision returned, the light coloured gravel drive leading to the road helped him navigate in the darkness, and he relied heavily on his peripheral vision to distinguish his surroundings. He could see the outline of tall trees on his left, against the lighter night sky, and headed down the road towards them.

  Armed personnel gave pursuit but Henryk was running for his life, and praying he would get lucky.

  Everyone in the operations room knew it was all Caplin’s fault that Ken was dead, and the spy had escaped. Because of the urgency to interrogate Henryk, he had only been detained in the operations room, and not a secure room. Had he shown any tendency to be aggressive and uncooperative, he would have been locked in and tortured, out of sight from the staff.

  Enraged to a fit of blind fury over Strom’s (Peter’s) call and its timely distraction for Henryk, Caplin snatched the paper out of Ken’s dead hand and read the address on it. He had no choice but to go there with a team of armed men and check out the building. He telephoned the police and arranged for an immediate cordon around the area.

  John Caplin was assured by the man in charge of security at Latchmere House that Henryk Robak would be caught. Caplin did not care, in his view, it was not his mistake and he had a major disaster to avert.

  Gathering his team, they set off across London to Henryk’s lockup, praying all the way that it would not be a wasted journey.

  ***

  At 1.30 am the security chief at Camp 020 phoned to report again to Sir Philip Stern, announcing with great emotion that Robak had escaped, after killing a valuable member of staff. It caused Sir Philip to go silent with smouldering rage. He had no doubt that Robak would be caught again very soon, and would pay dearly for this barbarous and cowardly act of cold blooded murder. The poor negotiator was only doing his job.

  Captured! 23rd December 1943

  Moments after Peter hung up on the riled John Caplin, Andrzej pulle
d up at the phone box in the van, and Peter climbed in.

  “Good lad. Now we go back to Henryk’s lockup and stay hidden. We may be out all night, but things should happen very soon.

  “You brought my Luger with the silencer, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, it is down on the floor, assembled and ready to fire. The grenades and ammunition are there as well.”

  As Andrzej drove the van to the lockup, Peter carefully considered where he should park. It had to be out of sight, but close on hand. It also had to be unobstructed, to make a rapid getaway along several routes, if possible. Peter predicted Caplin would arrange a police cordon around the area, the moment he had the address of either lockup. It was just a feeling he had, but he was confident Anna would hold out longer than Henryk under torture, and this helped him make the choice as to which lockup to watch over.

  Peter and Andrzej parked the van against a lockup door, in a block adjacent Henryk’s. Using the vehicle to step up to the flat roof, they lay down in the dark, overlooking the target.

  Peter had pinned all his hopes on John Caplin leading the raid. Henryk or Anna would break soon, they would know that by now, Peter would have had enough time to clear their lockups. If it was Anna who broke first, possibly more MI5 agents would die in the blast from the booby trap. Then it would be Henryk’s turn to give up his address. Hopefully it would happen before daybreak.

  ***

  Caplin urged his men to drive furiously through the city, even though the dim, downward pointing head-lights, lit nothing ahead of them. Driving at 10 miles per hour was reckless, but he pushed them to 15. The eyes of the drivers in the two packed Wolseley cars, bulged with strain as they rushed headlong down the streets. If they had any idle thoughts, it was to wonder if they would live to see their families ever again. Caplin on the other hand considered only the one thought, how to avoid the public shame of failure. For the first time in his life, he was driving himself to succeed, and his adversary Karl Strom (alias Peter Stone) would regret pushing him over the edge.