Her Secret War

by Pam Lecky

  ‘A little confused, if I’m honest,’ Sarah replied. ‘Everything happened so quickly yesterday. I’m still trying to sort it out in my head.’

  ‘That’s understandable. Did you get any sleep?’

  ‘Yes, I did. I’m afraid I didn’t handle things very well after I got home. Don’t worry; I didn’t tell the family anything. I said there had been an accident and that you would explain it all later. But I couldn’t stop thinking about poor Rob. I cried so much that Uncle Tom became alarmed and fetched the doctor. He gave me something to help me sleep.’

  ‘That’s understandable after what you witnessed. I was able to ease their minds somewhat when I spoke to them last night. At that stage, you were sound asleep.’

  ‘What did you tell them?’

  Miss Whitaker took a deep breath before she spoke. ‘I told them that you were involved in a secret undertaking for the government which had gone slightly awry, and that you had witnessed a shooting. Of course, I had to emphasise that under no circumstances were they to tell anyone about it.’

  Sarah sagged. ‘No doubt Uncle Tom will send me back to Ireland. I wouldn’t blame him.’

  ‘Nonsense! If anything, they are proud of you.’

  ‘And what about work? The girls will wonder why I wasn’t in today.’

  ‘Relax, Sarah, they are none the wiser and will remain so. Miss Sugden informed them you have a heavy cold and won’t be in for a few days. Will that do? Now, come and sit down at the table with me.’ She picked up the teapot. ‘Shall I pour?’

  Sarah nodded. ‘Thank you.’ She watched Miss Whitaker for a moment, her heart thumping. Best to get it over with straight away. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve put you to a lot of trouble.’

  Miss Whitaker laughed. ‘My dear girl, you have single-handedly neutralised a most dangerous man.’

  ‘Oh no, I think you did that, Miss Whitaker.’

  A smile twitched at the corner of the lady’s mouth. ‘Perhaps. But you set him up nicely for me.’

  ‘Not knowingly.’

  ‘We won’t fight over it,’ Miss Whitaker said, her eyes glinting. ‘Drink your tea.’

  Sarah obeyed but there was a question she was burning to ask. ‘Tell me, please, is there any news of Rob?’

  Miss Whitaker’s expression became serious. ‘He underwent surgery last night at the Royal Hampshire. The last I heard, which was about an hour ago, he was still in a critical condition. They have him heavily sedated and his parents arrived this afternoon. The next few days will be crucial. We must hope for the best.’ Miss Whitaker frowned. ‘It was most unfortunate he was shot. I wish I could have prevented it.’

  ‘The situation evolved rapidly; there was little you could have done in the circumstances.’

  Miss Whitaker flashed her a sad smile. ‘It is good of you to say, my dear. Biscuit?’ she asked, holding out the plate.

  Sarah stared at her. What an extraordinary woman; and always so composed. ‘If anything, it’s my fault. I told Rob not to hand over the tracing. I knew once Northcott had it in his possession, he would kill us. Poor Rob didn’t realise what was going on and thought he could save me if he complied. When he hesitated, Northcott lost patience and shot him.’

  ‘Sarah, Northcott planned to shoot both of you anyway. He never intended to let you simply walk free, knowing what you did. His escape route was planned. Out through Wales and Ireland and then on to Germany. We found false papers and his travel documents in his car.’

  What she said made sense, and there was nothing Sarah could do about it now except pray for Rob’s recovery.

  ‘The captain was very clever,’ Sarah muttered, as a wave of anger swept through her.

  ‘But not clever enough,’ Miss Whitaker said with a sniff. ‘Now, before we go any further, there is something you need to know about Rob.’ Miss Whitaker opened her handbag and pulled out a small picture frame. ‘One of the Special Branch officers found this hidden in his flat, under the mattress.’

  Sarah looked at the photograph. It had been taken in a garden or a park. The group stood close together and were smiling into the camera. ‘But …‍’ Sarah looked up, confused. ‘That’s Ruth Howard beside Rob. They look …‍’

  ‘Miss Howard and Rob are brother and sister. His real name is Andrew Howard.’

  Sarah sat back in her chair, staring at the picture. ‘Now that you say it, I can see a resemblance. Why didn’t I see it before? Oh my!’

  ‘What is it?’ Miss Whitaker asked.

  ‘There was an incident some weeks ago. A man came up to Rob in the pub and called him Drew. Rob told him he was mistaken and made some silly excuse to me. Gosh, so it was someone he knew. Even at the time, I had suspected the man claiming recognition was genuine, but I had assumed Rob’s false name was to cover up his identity as an impostor, in keeping with Northcott’s claim.’

  ‘That must have given him a fright. He must have feared his identity would be revealed.’

  ‘Yes, and we left that pub rather quickly afterwards.’ Sarah looked at the photograph again. ‘The story at Hursley was that Rob and Ruth had been walking out together. Even Gladys spoke of it. I never saw their relationship in any other light.’

  ‘Don’t worry. No one else grasped it, either. They were a support to each other and so they were happy for everyone to think their relationship was a romantic one. It meant they could meet and talk and no one would bat an eyelid. At some stage, Rob decided it was too risky and they pretended to break up. Ruth, in her way, was trying to help him root out the spy. Northcott had recruited them both.’

  ‘And that was why she was so anxious that I walk out with him. She must have believed I was the spy.’

  ‘Northcott had convinced them of it.’

  ‘The whole situation can’t have been easy for her. No wonder she didn’t appear to like me much,’ Sarah groaned. ‘I put it down to jealousy over Rob.’

  ‘More likely it was concern; she feared you would do him harm.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you could be right. This is dreadful. Is she all right, Miss Whitaker?’

  ‘Obviously, she is distraught. As soon as I saw the photo yesterday evening, I went to her lodging and confronted her about it. She was already in a state, as she knew the handover was to take place yesterday afternoon, and she hadn’t heard from Rob. I took her straight to the hospital. She is there now with their parents,’ she replied.

  ‘This will make things very difficult for her and Martin; she will blame me for her brother’s misfortune.’

  ‘You must give her more credit, and you underestimate my ability to smooth over matters. Now, my dear, if you are up to it, you had best tell me everything, from the beginning.’

  Sarah gathered her courage. ‘Before I do, I’d like to know who you are. Who you really are. I’m sorry if that comes across as rude, but having trusted so many people lately, only for them to betray me—‍’

  ‘A friend: that is all you need to know for now.’ Miss Whitaker reached across the table and patted her hand. ‘You can trust me.’

  ‘I thought I could trust Northcott, but look where that got me!’

  ‘A fair point, my dear.’ Miss Whitaker hesitated. Her brow creased and she rested her chin on her steepled fingers. ‘Very well, I think you have earned the right to know. However, what I am about to tell you must not be repeated, is that clear? Not even to the rest of your family. I know your Uncle Tom suspects, but he is enough of a gentleman not to press me.’

  ‘Yes, I understand.’

  ‘My father worked in army intelligence during the last war. Many of his fellow officers frequented our home, and one in particular—‍’ Miss Whitaker paused, and sadness flashed momentarily in her eyes, ‘‍—there was a … a romance; however, it didn’t lead to anything and we went our separate ways. Then in ’39, when war seemed inevitable, this man contacted me again, quite out of the blue. He had joined MI5.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of it. What is MI5?’

  ‘Military intelligence, Sarah,
and part of the secret service. The Colonel wished to recruit agents in strategic industries. My position in Supermarine had come to his attention. There was a fear that such places, handling the country’s secrets, could be vulnerable to Nazi sympathisers and their schemes.’

  ‘Men such as Northcott.’

  ‘Exactly, though you would be surprised how many spies are women. In fact, they are often the nastiest to deal with. However, about a year ago, Captain Northcott came to MI5’s attention.’

  ‘Was he really a naval officer?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Oh yes, indeed, with quite a record too; but he was badly injured at Dunkirk.’

  ‘Hence the cane.’

  Miss Whitaker nodded. ‘He requested a transfer to Naval Intelligence, and on the face of it, that wasn’t suspicious. His injuries precluded him from active service. However, an eagle-eyed officer at MI5 spotted something interesting: his grandmother was German and over the last ten years he had travelled to Germany almost every year on the pretext of visiting her. Further enquiries led to the discovery of her death in 1932. That set off alarm bells and he was put on a watch list for this county, something I am privy to. As you can imagine, the day he turned up and looked for you, my antennae began to twitch.’

  Sarah let out a slow breath. ‘I wish you could have warned me.’

  Miss Whitaker smiled. ‘Without being sure of your allegiances …‍’

  ‘Because of my father?’

  ‘Yes. It made the situation difficult. I could not risk exposure, especially to Northcott. I have no doubt he used your father’s history as leverage?’

  ‘That and my wish to avenge my sister’s death. I always suspected my father’s past was shameful. Did you know the extent of it?’

  ‘Of course. It came up in your background check and your Uncle Tom had already hinted at it but had vouched for you, so we decided to take the risk. After all, you had the right experience and we are, as you are aware, extremely short-staffed. To be honest, in normal circumstances, you would not have been employed. Our decision appeared to be the correct one, until Northcott showed up that day demanding to see you. There didn’t appear to be any logical explanation for it. How could he have known about you unless he had been keeping an eye on the security clearance reports for Supermarine and had spotted your name? I knew he had to be up to something, but all I could do was watch and wait.’

  ‘I have a confession, Miss Whitaker,’ Sarah said a little sheepishly. ‘I saw you in Southampton one Saturday. You came out of the Victoria Hotel, minutes after Northcott. I assumed you had been meeting him and that you were working with, or for, him.’

  Miss Whitaker scowled. ‘Oh dear, how clumsy of me to be spotted. I must be losing my touch. That would have been at the beginning of the month?’ Sarah nodded. ‘I had alerted London that Northcott was acting suspiciously and I was instructed to keep a watch on him, if possible. That particular day, he met with one of his fellow fascists in the bar of the hotel. We were on high alert after that, I can tell you. But I wasn’t sure what role he had for you until I found the discrepancy.’

  ‘What discrepancy?’ Sarah asked, intrigued.

  ‘The spoilt tracings. Did you not realise Miss Sugden keeps a tally? She came to me, rather upset as she considers you one of her best tracers, to tell me that you had taken four spoilt tracings to wash out but returned with only three. We also monitor how many clean tracing cloths are laid out each morning and check them off against the number of cloths returned at the end of each day. Therefore, I knew it was a possibility you had two tracing cloths in your possession. It seemed too much of a coincidence that a cloth would go missing two days in a row.’

  Sarah groaned. ‘Really? I had no idea she kept a record of those things. How unobservant I am.’ Miss Whitaker smiled and nodded. Sarah was disgusted with herself. ‘And there I was thinking I was ever so clever.’

  Miss Whitaker chuckled. ‘But you were, my dear. You were just missing that vital piece of information. As soon as I realised you had at least one tracing, I was deeply concerned as to what you might do with it. I suspected you were not working alone, and we stepped up our surveillance on Northcott. I began to wonder about your relationship with Rob, too.’

  ‘Poor Rob! Northcott convinced him I was an IRA spy.’

  ‘Unless he comes round, we may never know the full details; but yes, it appears likely. Rob is young and, it would appear, quite gullible. Now, tell me about that tracing you handed over. There was something wrong with it, wasn’t there?’

  Sarah was puzzled. How had she figured that out? But there was little point in not being honest. She drained her tea and refilled her own and Miss Whitaker’s cup. ‘Yes, it was fake. On Thursday, when I brought the tracing home, I realised I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t just hand over a vital Spitfire plan, mostly because I feared Northcott might leave me high and dry. His plan was so vague, and even when I pressed him, he just told me not to worry about it. That bothered me. I thought, what if he didn’t turn up to the handover and the tracing ended up with Rob’s Nazi? Of course, I didn’t know that Northcott was that Nazi. Anyway, I mulled it over for hours. What could I do to mitigate any damage if the tracing fell into the wrong hands? In the end, the best solution I could come up with was a fake tracing; that way if things went wrong, Rob’s contact would pass on something useless to Berlin.’

  ‘Excellent!’ Miss Whitaker beamed across at her. ‘So, what did you do?’

  Sarah gave a dry laugh. ‘Oh, it took me hours. Luckily, Uncle Tom has some drawing equipment at home, and I was able to bring it up to my room without anyone noticing. Then I had to carefully rub out parts of the tracing with a damp cloth. That gave me some heart-stopping moments, I can tell you. But it worked. I adjusted the drawing to make it useless by taking out vital details and adding others which were false, including some of the dimensions. I told Rob it was top secret and brand-new technology for the new cockpit door on the Mark VII. I prayed I had changed it enough to make it useless but look authentic at the same time.’

  ‘Ah, I did wonder. First thing this morning, I checked that tracing against the most recent original drawings held in the Drawing Office, including the drawing you had been working on when you had your ink spill. I couldn’t find a match.’

  ‘There was no way I was handing over the real thing, even though I knew it would increase the risk. I didn’t know how knowledgeable Rob’s contact was about these types of drawings. Worst case, I was hoping the man would not examine it too closely.’

  ‘You have good instincts, Sarah, and I am glad you went with them. If the real tracing had found its way to Berlin, the consequences would have been dire. We need to keep our design edge over the Luftwaffe.’

  ‘But Miss Whitaker, Rob nearly ruined everything on me. He was insistent that I hand over the tracing on Friday evening after work, but of course I couldn’t, as I needed time to work on the fake drawing. In fact, it took me all that evening and a good deal of Saturday as well to complete it. I was supposed to be going on a girls’ night out on Friday, so I claimed I could not go due to a bad headache. Anyway, I had to use all kinds of excuses to put Rob off until Sunday.’

  ‘Well done, Sarah. I wish we had more like you in the secret service.’

  Sarah shuddered. ‘I had luck on my side and I only did what I had to do to survive, nothing more. If you hadn’t turned up Northcott would have killed me in cold blood, just like Rob. My only consolation in those last moments was that the tracing Northcott had tricked us into providing was useless.’

  ‘No matter what the outcome might have been, Sarah, I can assure you he would never have made it out of Winchester. Luckily, we were in time to save you.’

  ‘But how on earth did you find us?’

  ‘As I said, once I knew you had a tracing, we increased our surveillance on Northcott. As it happens, there had been a few suspect transactions on his bank account over the last few months, which a bank employee had brought to our attention. Mon
ey had been transferred into it from an account in Denmark.’

  ‘Why would that be suspicious?’

  ‘Denmark is occupied territory and teeming with Abwehr agents. The money was traced back to the account of a man we suspected to be a handler. Northcott was probably acting as a go-between, paying other agents based here. We asked the bank to keep us informed, and lo and behold, on Friday, Special Branch were tipped off that Northcott had cleared out his account. We knew something was afoot. Then on Saturday morning, his wife was seen leaving their flat with a suitcase.’

  ‘So you knew he was up to something.’

  ‘Yes, and that he was most likely planning to leave the country. My colleagues followed him to Winchester to Rob’s flat on Sunday morning. They contacted me, and the rest you know. His wife was picked up in Cardiff on Sunday evening and is currently undergoing interrogation.’

  Sarah nodded and sipped her tea, but her curiosity about the lady across from her was raging: she had to ask. ‘Miss Whitaker, how on earth did you manage that shot?’

  The Dragon’s eyes lit up. ‘I learned to handle a gun at a young age. My father insisted I was taught before he headed off to France in 1914. It was only my mother and me left at home, you see, and he was anxious that we could defend ourselves if the worst happened. As it transpired, it was my old flame who took on the task of teaching me. I’ll never forget that summer.’ Her eyes misted up in memory. ‘Happy times.’ Then her expression cleared. ‘A long time ago, of course, but a skill that has been of use on more than one occasion.’

  Good Lord, Sarah thought, I really don’t know this woman at all. ‘Well, I’m very grateful he taught you so well or I would not be here today.’

  Miss Whitaker dismissed this with a wave of her hand. ‘It’s over now. We must move on. Obviously, it’s best not to discuss it any further. The fewer people who know about the Northcott affair, the better.’