Joanna smiled at her son. “I was unaware.”
“And not one in a hundred can name the horse the Duke of Wellington rode into battle,” Johnny went on.
“Which is?”
“Copenhagen.”
Joanna and I exchanged knowing glances, for the names Arthur Wellesley and Copenhagen should be brought to the attention of the Admiralty Club. It was indeed possible that Alistair Ainsworth had those names in mind when he circled Waterloo on the train station map. What a stroke of luck that would be for all concerned!
Joanna asked, “May I inquire how you came about all this knowledge?”
“I learned of it from my tutor at Eton,” Johnny answered. “He is considered to be a recognized authority on the subject, having written his thesis on the Duke of Wellington.”
“Would you have ever learned these hidden facts from a private tutor we might have to hire?”
“No, Mother, for that information is not known by most.”
“So we can conclude there is something rather special about your tutors at Eton.”
“Oh yes, they are in every way special.”
“Do you believe we can easily find their equal here in London?”
Johnny stared out at length and watched the ripples crossing the Serpentine Lake, for the wind was now picking up. Birds flew overhead, but made no sound. “Mother,” he said finally, “I think it is in my best interest to return to Eton.”
“A wise decision.”
We turned as the group Johnny had studied was gaily strolling toward us. The adults were smiling and laughing, while the little girl led her dog on a merry chase. It was clear that the observations made by Joanna and her son were correct, yet they showed no delight in their achievement. Indeed, Johnny paid only scant attention to the approaching group before dashing off in search of more challenging scenes to be considered and discerned. I could not help but wonder if I was witnessing yet another reincarnation of Sherlock Holmes.
23
Exodus
That afternoon, with my father’s knee much improved, we were summoned to the Admiralty Club where the news was dire. Alistair Ainsworth had been broken completely. The Germans were now aware of Exodus, a plan to blockade Kaiser Wilhelm’s navy and all the shipping lanes into Germany’s major ports. It was a disastrous blow to Great Britain’s war effort.
Dunn’s face was haggard as he spoke to us in a most grim voice. “The plan was to shortly deploy a squadron of ten ships from His Majesty’s Navy to the North Sea where they would patrol the waters off the mouth of the Baltic Sea. From this position, they could hinder German warships entering the Atlantic and stop all the merchant vessels heading for German ports. Thus, Germany would not only have been deprived of a strong naval presence in the North Sea, it would have also been denied vital raw materials they need so desperately. Now that the Germans have been informed of our war plans, they will put their ships into the North Sea at once, have their U-boats swarm the area, and of course stockpile critical raw materials.”
“We know that Germany has learned of our plan because of a communiqué that was intercepted by Naval Intelligence,” Dunn continued on. “It read simply ‘Exodus broken.’ Needless to say, it is a devastating hit and we fear the worst is yet to come. As I mentioned earlier to you, the Germans have been keeping on file all of our messages and communiqués, much like we do with theirs. Up to the present, our messages have for the most part been undecipherable, but all that changes now. With Ainsworth broken, the German intelligence unit will provide their navy with information of the greatest value. They will have detailed knowledge of our fleet, including the number and whereabouts of our ships, our naval strategies, and our alliance with other navies. It will put us at the greatest of disadvantages. With this in mind, I must ask you to redouble your efforts to locate Alistair Ainsworth before even more damage is done.”
“Are we certain that Tubby gave them accurate information on Exodus?” Marlowe asked. “Perhaps he only gave them the name of the plan, with otherwise false information.”
“That is wishful thinking,” Dunn said. “Naval Intelligence has confirmed that a squadron of German warships has departed from their home ports and is currently passing through the Kattegat Strait, heading for the Atlantic Ocean. Yet additional warships are being prepared to make sail. These moves indicate they know the details of our naval strategy. There is no question that Ainsworth has been broken, and at this point we must attempt to salvage whatever we can. Thus, our first and only order of business is to find Ainsworth and learn what other information he might have shared with the Germans.”
Dunn took a long, worrisome breath before gathering himself. “That is my directive and I mean to carry it out. So let us return to Ainsworth’s first message, which was the Waterloo train station circled on a map. I need to know if any of your ideas have offered even a glimpse of a clue. Now, what about the French dictionary in Ainsworth’s desk? Anything there, Marlowe?”
“Nothing of value,” Roger Marlowe reported. “It contained numerous notes scribbled in the margins that dealt with nouns of no relevance. I could not find numbers or symbols that might lead to a cryptic message or location.”
“Did you examine his copy of the Old Testament?”
“In detail, but I could find no hidden messages or clues. I of course concentrated on the book of Exodus this morning, but saw no inscribed markings, arrows, or symbols. I could see nothing to indicate Tubby had employed that section of the Old Testament to break or construct codes.”
“Was there no writing at all?”
“Not on those pages.”
“You must continue your search of the two books unless you uncover a better avenue to investigate,” Dunn ordered, then turned to Mary Ellington. “As I recall, you also believed that the circled Waterloo somehow referred to our epic battle with France. In particular, you thought Ainsworth could be pointing to the emperor Napoleon who led the French forces.”
“Tubby would have never been that direct,” Mary said. “As I mentioned earlier, it was far more likely he was referring to another feature of Napoleon, namely his lovely wife Josephine. There is a Josephine Street in Reigate that Scotland Yard is currently investigating.”
“With little success,” Lestrade interjected. “No Germans or individuals with German-sounding names live there, nor have any houses been leased recently. We are now extending our search to other limits of the Reigate district.”
“And what of Geoffrey Montclair’s notion that the word Waterloo was intended to direct us to monuments built in honor of the Duke of Wellington?”
At this point Joanna raised the possibility that Ainsworth’s coded message was referring to Arthur Wellesley or Copenhagen, and told of their connection to the Duke of Wellington. The Admiralty Club knew of the duke’s family name, but were unaware that his horse was called Copenhagen and deemed it worth studying.
“Nevertheless, we are continuing to investigate both monuments,” Lestrade said, consulting his notepad. “It is our belief that the St. Paul’s area is the more likely since it contains several large residential pockets, in contrast to the neighborhoods surrounding Hyde Park. We have had no success to date, but our investigation is not nearly completed.”
“You may wish to double the manpower to that area,” Dunn recommended. “If need be, draw on the police forces from outlying districts. When asking about recent leases, how far back in time did you go?”
“Six months.”
“Extend it to a year,” Dunn said. “These types of operations by foreign agents require great planning that takes far more time than one might think.”
“Then more men will definitely be required.”
“Draw as many as you deem necessary. Better too many than too few,” Dunn said, then waited for others to speak. When none did, he added, “I am open to further suggestions.”
Joanna asked, “Does it not surprise you that Ainsworth gave away such a valuable plan, when he could have chosen one of l
esser importance?”
“Perhaps they threatened him with death should he not do so,” Dunn surmised. “With a knife at one’s throat, one’s resistance tends to disappear rather quickly.”
“That is a possibility,” Joanna agreed. “But allow me to raise another. Perhaps he chose the plan called Exodus to provide an additional clue to his whereabouts. After all, the Germans would not have known of the plan’s name unless Alistair Ainsworth so informed them.”
“That is correct,” Mary said at once. “Only we knew the name of the plan, yet the Germans mentioned it in their communiqué. Thus, Tubby must have purposely given it away.”
“But what would its significance be?” Dunn asked impatiently.
“Exodus is the first book in the Old Testament,” Joanna replied. “The answer may lie therein.”
“The Old Testament!” Marlowe cried out. “Exodus could have a religious connotation, which might tie into the St. Paul’s neighborhood. St. Paul’s, of course, is Christian, while the Old Testament is the Jewish Bible. Is Tubby telling us there is a Jewish temple or synagogue near St. Paul’s, and his location is between the two?”
“Quite possibly,” Dunn said, and gestured quickly to Lestrade. “Please look into that, Inspector.”
“Done!” Lestrade said.
“There is yet another possibility that needs to be raised,” Joanna went on. “Perhaps there is a passage in the book of Exodus itself that holds Ainsworth’s message.”
“Are you familiar with that particular book?” Dunn asked promptly.
“I am about to be,” Joanna answered.
“Perhaps we should bring in a theologian,” Lestrade suggested.
Dunn shook his head dismissively. “We require a codebreaker, not a worshipper.”
“Tell me, Joanna, what sort of passage in Exodus would you look for?” Mary asked.
“Any phrase or word that could relate to modern London,” Joanna replied. “For example, if Pharaoh had a tower where prisoners or hostages were held, it could point to the Tower of London, which is located on the north bank of the Thames in central London.”
“Or to Moses’s journey up Mount Sinai,” Mary added. “We should see if there are any synagogues or temples near St. Paul’s that bear the name Mount Sinai.”
Lestrade hurriedly copied down notes in his small notepad, writing on one page after another. “It might be wise to look into all Mount Sinai and Sinai synagogues, and not only those near St. Paul’s. After all, the Germans may have moved yet again.”
“Indeed,” Dunn approved. “You should focus on those situated in residential neighborhoods.”
“And those located on streets that have French- or German-sounding names,” Joanna advised.
“Quite right,” Lestrade said, and jotted down another reminder.
“Are there other ideas?” Dunn asked and, when none were forthcoming, he walked over to a large window and peered out at the tourists gathering in Trafalgar Square. He appeared lost in his thoughts for a long moment before turning back to the group. “Let us redouble our efforts, for so much is at stake here.”
As we strolled through the central area of the Admiralty Club, Joanna motioned with her head to the now vacant office of Geoffrey Montclair. On his desktop was the typewriter containing the bloodied message.
“We need that typewriter,” Joanna muttered under her breath.
“Perhaps the bloodied sheet can be retrieved,” I hoped.
“But I require it to be in the typewriter,” Joanna whispered. “That is of the utmost importance.”
Outside, the day was clear and brisk, so we strolled over to Nelson’s towering monument and found a space free of tourists. Nevertheless Joanna glanced around to make certain no one was within hearing distance.
“We are running out of time,” she said in a concerned voice. “I fear that Alistair Ainsworth will shortly be out of reach.”
“Surely they will not attempt to move him to Germany so quickly now,” my father asserted. “Not with the English ports under such close surveillance.”
“At this juncture a rapid move would be the smart move,” said Joanna. “The Germans have already had several close encounters with us, and will not wish to push their luck further. They are very much aware that the longer they remain on British soil, the greater the chance they will be apprehended.”
“It would still be a dicey maneuver,” my father noted.
“But worth the risk,” Joanna insisted. “Imagine the immense value of having Alistair Ainsworth imprisoned in Germany. Not only could he decipher all the coded messages they have on file, he could decode all future communiqués as well. Ainsworth would become a never-ending font of information.”
“It would be a nightmare for the Royal Navy.”
“From which they might never awaken.”
“But even if this transfer were to happen, you assume that Ainsworth would continue to cooperate with the Germans.”
“Once a man is broken, he stays broken.”
“Your point is well taken, but I continue to believe the German agents will bide their time and await a more opportune moment to carry their catch to Germany.”
“To the contrary, they will now move with haste.”
My father gave Joanna a most serious look and asked, “What indication is there to show this will occur?”
“The word exodus, which means to go out or go forth,” Joanna said. “Alistair Ainsworth is telling us that the Germans are about to depart, with him in tow.”
24
The Deciphering
On returning to our rooms at 221b Baker Street, we immediately retrieved Sherlock Holmes’s copy of the Old Testament and gathered around the fireplace as Joanna read from the book of Exodus. The initial reading revealed no clues, but the second was more productive.
“Perhaps the number ten is important here,” Joanna ventured. “Ten is mentioned twice in this passage. The first being the tenth plague in which God threatened to kill all the Egyptian firstborn. The second refers to the ten commandments that Moses received on Mount Sinai. Thus, we have two tens, which may or may not be relevant.”
My mind went back to the instructions given to us some time ago by Sir David Shaw, the curator at the British Museum who was a master codebreaker. He had stressed the importance of a particular number in deciphering coded messages. “Sir David would tell us that ten could represent j, the tenth letter in the alphabet, or the number ten could be one-aught, with the one being the letter a in the alphabet, followed by aught or the letter o.” I shrugged my shoulders at the possible variations of j or ao. “But neither makes sense here.”
“Do not discard the relevance of the number ten so quickly,” my father advised. “For there is yet another ten to add to the equation. Recall that in the coded naval message a squadron of ten British ships was to be deployed to the projected battle area.”
“Can you somehow relate that to the message sent by Alistair Ainsworth?” I asked.
“Sadly, I cannot,” my father said. “Perhaps Joanna can help us in that regard.”
Joanna shook her head. “The permutations are endless. Furthermore, now that I give the matter second thought, if the number ten is so important, Ainsworth would have inserted it in the original message he decoded for the Germans. He could have said that there were ten rather than three U-boats off the Orkney Islands. This would not have raised suspicions with the Germans, in that their major concern would have been the submarines themselves being detected, not their exact number. They might have even enjoyed the British exaggeration of their strength.”
“So we have reached yet another dead end,” I said.
“When it comes to numbers we have,” Joanna concurred, then furrowed her brow in thought. After a long pause, she said, “Perhaps we should not be searching for some deeply hidden passage, but for a key that is rather obvious.”
“But Alistair Ainsworth is a master of codes,” I challenged.
“That is my point, dear John
. Because he is such a master, we have assumed he would use this unique skill to send his message. But that may not be the case. You must consider the dire situation in which Ainsworth finds himself, with time being of the essence. He had to communicate quickly, using a code that could be obvious to his colleagues, but not to the Germans. The key word here is obvious. He would not transmit a message that would require days and days, if not weeks, to decipher.”
“How can you be certain your assumption is correct?” my father asked.
“By putting myself in his place,” Joanna replied. “It is the avenue I would have taken under the circumstances.”
“But we know every word in the message Ainsworth sent,” I argued. “Yet we remain in a quandary.”
“That is because we do not have the complete original message to compare with the one in Montclair’s typewriter.”
“I am having difficulty finding your line of reasoning.”
“Allow me to explain,” Joanna went on. “We have an individual who studied the original message and the one sent by Alistair Ainsworth, and that individual is now dead. And it was Montclair who insisted there was a difference between the two messages, but could not recall it. His exact words were ‘Something was amiss, something was off.’ Now please be good enough to place all these indisputable facts in order and tell me what conclusion you draw.”
My father and I tried to connect all the facts, but to no avail. We gave each other puzzled glances.
“Come now!” Joanna urged. “Concentrate on the difference that Montclair was pursuing.”
My father’s cherrywood pipe dropped from his grip as the answer came to him. “Montclair was murdered because he remembered the difference!”
“Spot on, Watson! Somehow the traitor learned of it and had no choice but to dispatch Montclair.” Joanna reached down for my father’s pipe and handed it back to him. “And I will go a step further. The message itself was no longer of value to us or the Germans. Dwell on it for a moment. The message stated there were U-boats off the innermost Orkney Islands. The secret was out. We knew, the enemy knew. So why kill Montclair over an already decoded message?”
The Disappearance of Alistair Ainsworth Page 22