Telek might’ve been friendly outside in Grosvenor Square, but he didn’t seem particularly pleased to have his personal kingdom invaded. I suppose you couldn’t blame him. I mean, belonging to the supreme commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force, he was used to being top dog.
Eisenhower’s aide, Harry Butcher, had already made introductions. Besides Eleanor, David, and me, Violette was there, of course. So were Leo Marks, Eleanor’s father, and a serious, balding man introduced only as Sir Charles. I gathered he was Leo’s boss and in charge of some, or all, of the SOE organization.
“Perhaps you can get us started, Harry,” General Eisenhower said to his aide.
Harry Butcher stood. “Today, General, we’re gathered to thank these young people for their role in preventing what might have been a serious breach of security for the coming invasion, and in helping save the lives of brave agents in the field.”
“Very good.” General Eisenhower gestured toward Sir Charles. “I’ve been assured that the culprit in this affair has been taken into custody. Is that right?”
Sir Charles shifted on his chair uncomfortably. “Yes, General. I take full responsibility for the delay. We are grateful to Violette for her courageous work. She provided valuable evidence from the field.” He cleared his throat. “And…Leo had already called our attention to warning signs in coded messages that were being ignored by…by the traitor operating in our midst.”
Leo picked at a nonexistent thread on his pressed trousers. Violette twirled a pair of gloves in her lap. They said nothing, but I guessed it was hard for them to stay quiet.
Violette had risked her life to bring TRAVELER to justice. And Leo had told us he’d tried for weeks to convince his superiors (including TRAVELER himself) to pay attention to the absence of security checks in agents’ messages. He didn’t believe it was carelessness: He’d trained agents like Philippe and Violette well. TRAVELER had tried to discredit Leo. But in the end, Leo had been proven right.
* * *
—
Everything had come together quickly since the day we’d discovered Violette. On Sunday, she’d moved from the rectory to stay with Eleanor and her family. That afternoon, David, LR, and I had walked to the bookstore on Charing Cross Road to find Leo. Luckily, he was there visiting his father.
“Wait a minute. I’ve seen you and your little spaniel before, haven’t I?” Leo asked me.
I nodded. “Yes, after the air raid last Friday. I think you might have been following someone then: a young woman?”
“How do you know that?” The blood drained from Leo’s face. He grabbed our arms, herded us behind a bookshelf, and whispered, “I thought I glimpsed her that day. But she’s not supposed to be here….Is she safe?”
“Yes,” David declared. “It’s rather a long story, but if you’re free, we’ll take you to her.”
In a way, it was a relief to bring other people into the mystery. Dr. Shea had assured Leo and Violette that they could speak with him in confidence, and that his American organization, the OSS, worked closely with British groups like the SOE on Baker Street.
Dr. Shea even made a joke about it. “I had one meeting at your offices, and walked around looking for a sign that said SOE. It was only when I checked the address that I realized you’re hidden behind that cryptic sign on the building that says Inter-Services Research Bureau. I wonder who came up with that!”
Leo grinned. “We couldn’t exactly say Baker Street Irregulars.” Then he held Violette’s hand for a long moment. “I am glad you’re alive. I happened to glance out my office window and thought I must be dreaming. You were supposed to be in France. I began following you to be sure, but you vanished when the sirens went off.”
Violette nodded. “I almost trusted you, Leo. I wanted to. But I decided to try to lure the traitor into the open on my own first. Then I thought I would talk to you or Dr. Shea. I gave the notebook to Eleanor to be kept safe—in case…in case something happened to me.
“But, as you know, these young people proved to be better spies than me. During the raid that night, I began to feel faint and sick. Eleanor had sprinted ahead. So when I saw those bins on Mill Street, I decided to crouch behind them to catch my breath. Foolishly, I thought I might hold the tin lid of the garbage can over my head for protection in case a bomb fell nearby. But I didn’t even have the strength to lift the lid. I fainted dead away! When I woke up, Mrs. Clark was helping me inside the rectory.”
Leo said, “I thought you were with someone else, Violette, but I never got a good look at Eleanor. Once the air-raid sirens went off, it was pretty chaotic. I kept running along Maddox Street toward Grosvenor Square because I didn’t realize you had gone into Mill Street.”
Leo turned to me. “And, in fact, I did take your advice and slipped into a shelter.”
“Did you go to Grosvenor Square to look for Violette the next day?” I asked.
Leo nodded. “I had the vague notion I might run into her, since that seemed to be the direction she was heading. I saw you and your dog then, Bertie, but I didn’t know anything about the notebook.”
“So I guess it was all in my head that you were following me that afternoon,” I said ruefully. Although if I hadn’t tracked Leo to Baker Street, I’d never have known that the man with the dog was TRAVELER.
Dr. Shea had listened to the whole story so far in surprised silence. But his jaw dropped as Eleanor revealed how the three of us had deciphered the notebook and sprung Violette’s trap for the traitor.
“This is incredible, Eleanor,” said Dr. Shea. “You three have done some exceptional detective work. But why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
I was about to speak up, but I stopped myself. This was Eleanor’s question to answer. She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve been so busy.”
“I’m sorry, my dear. It’s one reason why I didn’t want you to come to London,” he said.
“No!” Eleanor’s head shot up. “I’m glad I’m here, Father. I’d hate boarding school. And I love living here. I just want to…to be taken seriously.”
He nodded solemnly. “I’ll do better. Once the invasion is over, we’ll all breathe a sigh of relief, I think. It may not be the end of the war, but it will be the beginning of the end. And, Eleanor, my dear, I want you to know that I consider you, like the woman you’re named for, a force to be reckoned with—and I love you for that.”
“Always Eleanor,” I whispered, poking Eleanor in the ribs.
Dr. Shea paused, then addressed us all. “And now, you Baker Street Irregulars, do you have an idea for what should happen next?”
“Actually, we do, sir,” I said. “I think I have a connection that can bring this information about the traitor to the highest levels of the military—with your help.”
Dr. Shea looked amused. “I see. What would you like me to do?”
“I wonder if you’d be willing to make a call to Commander Harry Butcher and ask him to meet you outside headquarters at Grosvenor Square.”
“Eisenhower’s aide?” asked Eleanor’s father, with a low whistle. “That is the top!”
I grinned. “You can tell him Telek’s friend would like to meet again.”
* * *
—
Dr. Shea had indeed called Harry Butcher to make our case. After that, there’d been a flurry of calls and secret meetings (to which we kids weren’t invited). But now we all were here.
As soon as I’d mentioned that LR was a rescue dog, Supreme Commander Dwight D. “Ike” Eisenhower had risen from his desk, walked over, and bent down to give her a treat: a American Red Cross doughnut! Telek had whined, aghast that a guest had been served before him.
The supreme commander turned to me. “Well, young man, I’d like to hear a little more about how you three solved this mystery and helped ensure that our great endeavor will remain a secret.”
/> I was silent a moment. David whispered, “Go on, Sherlock.” Eleanor nodded encouragement. I took a breath and began to tell the tale.
“I wasn’t thinking about becoming a spy that night….”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force!
You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you.
—General Dwight D. “Ike” Eisenhower, Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force, in his Order of the Day on June 6, 1944
TUESDAY, JUNE 6, 1944
“Bertie, wake up and listen!” Will’s urgent voice roused me in the darkness of our room.
I rolled over, pulled LR close, and mumbled, “Listen to what?”
“Planes,” he said. “I heard planes. I wonder if it means the invasion is happening today.”
“Maybe Jeffrey was right,” I said, sitting bolt upright. Of course Jeffrey was right. “Did you hear him predict it would happen this week when he was here on Sunday? He said all the soldiers were gone from the camp near his school.”
“They were probably sent to the south of England. By now they’re on their way across the Channel,” Will said. “Hey, let’s listen to the BBC news on the radio.”
Will and I wanted to eat breakfast in our sitting room, next to the radio, but Mum wouldn’t hear of it. “We’ll turn the volume up a bit and you can sit right here in the kitchen,” she said, setting out plates of toast, sausage, and those dreaded powdered eggs.
Ever since she’d come home, my mother had embarked on a plan to “re-civilize” me. It involved regular haircuts, more homework, and making me eat better. “What did you and your father live on?” she’d exclaimed when she arrived. “Tea and toast?”
“Don’t forget powdered eggs,” Dad had put in. “Mine are the best.”
I’d groaned. “The best were the doughnuts Eleanor fed me. Doughnuts are now LR’s favorite food.”
“Well, I’m glad someone else is getting smothered by Mum’s love,” Will had teased. Then he’d gone over and kissed her on the cheek. “I couldn’t have gotten well without you, Mum.”
She’d frowned. “You must be sweetening me up for something, Will Bradshaw. What’s going on?”
“Nothing much.” Will had grinned. “Well, except Bertie found an ad for a free bicycle in the newspaper. It needs work, but once I learn to ride one-handed, Warden Hawk said he’d take me as a civil defense messenger.”
* * *
—
In the end, the four of us traipsed into the sitting room when the BBC news came on at eight o’clock, breakfast plates in hand, much to the delight of LR.
“Here is the eight o’clock news for today, Tuesday the sixth of June, read by Frederick Allen,” the announcer’s voice declared. “Supreme Allied Headquarters have issued an urgent warning to the inhabitants of the enemy-occupied countries living near the coast. The warning said that a new phase of the Allied air offensive had begun….”
“It must be coming! This must be the day,” I cried. “The invasion is happening at last.”
* * *
—
David and I went straight to talk to Mr. Turner when we got to school. “I think this is the day. Come to my classroom during lunch,” he told us. “I’ll put the radio on.”
Sure enough, there was a special midday bulletin:
“D-Day has come. Early this morning, the Allies began the assault on the northwestern face of Hitler’s European fortress. The first official news came just after half past nine, when Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force—usually called SHAEF, from its initials—issued Communiqué Number One. This said: ‘Under the command of General Eisenhower, Allied naval forces, supported by strong air forces, began landing Allied armies this morning on the northern coast of France.’ ”
* * *
—
After school, I stopped home to fetch LR, then joined David, Will, and Eleanor at the command post, where a large group had gathered around a radio, eager for the latest news.
We stayed all afternoon. The wardens were joined by volunteers and neighbors who stopped by to hear the news. Once, a little boy cried, “Mummy, look! There’s the doggie that rescued us.” Needless to say, LR got a biscuit.
And then, after one radio update, Warden Hawk gave a hoot of joy and slapped his knee. “Did you hear that? The attack was a tactical surprise. They did it! Eisenhower managed to keep the largest military endeavor in history, with thousands of planes, boats, and soldiers, a secret.”
Will turned to David, Eleanor, and me and whispered, “And luckily, the supreme commander had help from the three of you.”
LR stuck her muzzle into the air and barked. Woof!
“Not three—four.” I reached down to hug my dog. “We can’t forget Little Roo.”
EPILOGUE
SUNDAY, JULY 2, 1944
GROSVENOR SQUARE
We had a going-away and birthday party combined. Unfortunately, not everyone could make it. We knew Leo Marks was busy. And we figured Telek, the supreme dog, might be in France, helping his master inspect troops after their courageous and successful assault on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day.
Dr. Shea and Eleanor were heading home. Eleanor’s father would go back to teaching in the fall. But he’d promised Eleanor they’d come visit next summer.
He launched the festivities with a lemonade toast. “Happy birthday to my brilliant daughter, Eleanor, who was born on a historic day: July fourth. Although our two nations separated, when we come together as allies on the battlefield—or in the pursuit of truth and justice—we are unbeatable.”
“Hear, hear!” We all raised our paper cups.
“My birthday is historic in more than one way: Thomas Jefferson and John Adams died on that day,” Eleanor said with a grin. We all groaned. “I guess they were sort of responsible for our two countries breaking up in the first place….”
I glanced at Dad. “Well, this is a good place for our picnic, then. John Adams once lived on Grosvenor Square.”
David whistled. “Mr. Turner would be impressed, Bertie.”
“Bertie might even turn out to be a history buff like you, Dad,” Will added.
“He might at that,” Dad said. “But I have to thank you, Warden Hawk and Warden Ita, for helping my son learn to be more responsible and, shall we say, less forgetful.”
Warden Hawk grinned and went back to throwing a ball for Little Roo. Warden Ita flashed his beautiful smile. “We’re glad to have both your sons as volunteers now.”
After we sang, Mum helped Eleanor cut the apple pie she’d made for the occasion. “Eleanor, could you please take these pieces to Mrs. Clark from the rectory and to your grandmother?” Mum asked. “Bertie, these are for Warden Esther and Mr. Humphrey.” She smiled down at Little Roo and planted a kiss on my cheek. “And, of course, our little heroine gets her own piece.”
As we walked across the now-green grass in Grosvenor Square, Eleanor said softly, “Your mom is nice, Bertie. Are things better?”
I smiled a little. “Warden Ita once told me to take things one step at a time.”
I wished I could jump ahead to a time when Mum and I were always easy with each other. But we were trying. She kissed me good night. And sometimes, if Will was reading Holmes aloud, she sat at the foot of my bed, stroking Little Roo’s head with one hand and rubbing my feet with the other.
“Good night, my boys,” Mum would say on those nights. “And you too, Little Roo.”
Sometimes I also wished I could leap to a time when the war was over and London would never again face another raid. The Little Blitz bombing raids had stopped. But starting a week after D-Day, we’d had so
mething new and terrifying to deal with: V-1 flying bombs. They were pilotless missiles launched from positions the Germans still held in France, and arrived without warning. And though we didn’t know it then, they would continue for months. We called them doodlebugs, or buzz bombs.
But Warden Hawk and Warden Ita weren’t discouraged. They would keep fighting for the people of London.
We could sense that it was only a matter of time before the war would end.
* * *
—
As for other guests, there was one young constable present, but it wasn’t Jimmy. He didn’t live at Trenchard House now. He wasn’t even a policeman anymore.
My suspicions about Jimmy had been wrong—he hadn’t been Violette’s boyfriend after all. But my cousin Jeffrey had been right to distrust him. Not only had Jimmy been mean to LR, he was caught accepting bribes from criminals. Dad caught him and received a special commendation.
“Are you going to become a detective now, Dad?” I’d asked.
“Bertie, I turned down a detective inspector position before the war,” he’d told me. “I thought I could do more good training young policemen to serve the community. I wanted to be on the streets with the people of London. I know that might come as a disappointment to you.”
I’d shaken my head. “Before…before, I might have thought that. But not anymore.”
Dad had rested his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll see what happens when the war ends. I might need a promotion to help us get our own house again.”
* * *
—
Will, Jeffrey, and David were almost too busy to eat their pie: They were arguing the merits of their favorites of the fifty-six Sherlock Holmes stories.
Will and David were still the Sherlock experts. David read a lot. And he worked hard too. He’d told me once that staying busy helped him get through the worst days of missing his parents. And this summer he was helping not only in his foster family’s shoe store but also in Leo’s father’s bookstore at 84 Charing Cross Road.
How I Became a Spy Page 16