Debut for a Spy (25 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

London
,
England
–
the
same
day

I used secondary roads for the drive into London, avoiding Kingston's traffic. Somewhere around Putney Heath I stopped at a call box to telephone Hammond.

“You've just caught me, Minstrel. Problem?”

“I have something for you, sir. It should go to a lab.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“Putney Heath.”

“Do you know the Coldstreams' mess?”

“Duke of York's Headquarters in Chelsea.”

“Right. See you there presently.”

It wasn't quite six, so I decided to call Marijke when I got to the mess. Traffic was slow through Putney and over the bridge and my arrival was delayed, but I was ahead of Hammond. Signing in as his guest I was informed that I was welcome to wait for him inside – a concession, I'm sure. The Guards can be a very pompous lot, and while I was wearing a major's rank I was 'only' in the Royal Corps of Transport, and in battle dress at that. As I entered the lounge there was an immediate exclamation.

“Good God! David?”

And there was House, looking astonished.
“What the hell are you doing in that outfit? Have we struck the bottom of the British barrel already? No more hearts-of-oak, is that it? Reduced to the maple tree, all sugar and sap. I knew it would happen one day. And crowns! God save us all! He's a major! Well, Major Disaster, what have you to say for yourself? Come on, explain to these honorable Coldstream gentlemen!”

The assembly of officers gathered around, sensing a lamb being led to the slaughter. I decided to play it out in Bluebottle's falsetto.

“You rotten swine! If you don't shut up I will place milk-loaded exploding-type reeds in your sexyphones and you will become the director of the Cold-cream Guards Band. Yes I will!”

It wasn't very funny, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances, and it produced a ripple of laughter from the honorable gentlemen. They were obviously hoping for more exchanges, but House decided wisely to cut it off.

“Gentlemen, may I introduce my friend and fellow Goon addict David Baird. You will soon see him in the musical Curtain Call, though I trust not dressed like a fugitive from the Indian mutiny as he presently is. Please make him welcome, but watch your wallets! Bourbon and coke, old son?”

House got my drink from the mess steward, and I shook hands with one or two officers who introduced themselves. Then House and I withdrew to a couple of chairs with a little more privacy.

“What's up, David? More of the same? I would have thought Paris was lesson enough.”

“This is different, House. I can't tell you much, but I'm in on the ground floor of one of the most exciting projects in aviation. There's no danger – at least, not like in France – and I had some time before rehearsals started, so I said I'd help out.”

“Why the uniform?”

“It's only a TA commission, and temporary at that. It was the easiest way to get me involved in the project.”

“How long will it last?”

“Today and tomorrow. Nothing to get worried about. Now let's change the subject. What are you up to tonight?”

“Nothing much. I wasn't sure whether to call Nicki or just hang around the mess. Any suggestions?”

“I have to see Hammond for a few minutes when he gets here, but if Marijke is free I want to take her to Ronnie Scott's. Are you interested?”

“Oh, yeah, I'd like that,” said Eccles' voice.

“Well then, show me where I can use the phone, you nit-wit, and I'll find out if it's a 'go'.”

Off the entrance hall there was a small telephone room with a chair and table for making more private calls. Probably to one's banker or broker, I thought, knowing the financial position of most Guards officers. I sat, sipped my drink, and called Marijke.

“Oh, David. I am glad to hear from you. I think perhaps you are held up with your meeting.”

She was being circumspect, which was natural after what she had said about her flat.

“What about tonight? Are you free, or do you have to work?”

“No, I don't work tonight. It is changed for tomorrow. Is it still possible that we go out?”

“Yes. And I missed you today. I'll be glad to see you. What time shall I come for you?”

“Is half-of-eight too late?”

“No, that's fine. Do you mind if House and Nicki come, too?”

“
No, they are nice. I look to see you later. I miss you, too, David.”

I hung up and just sat for a moment, sensing her warmth and her body. I was completely captivated, and while it felt exhilarating and exciting it was also frightening, for I knew I had lost a control over myself which I thought was unassailable. I stepped from the telephone room as Colonel Hammond came through the door.

“Well, Major Baird. Good to see you. Let me get a drink and we'll chat.”

House saw us come in together, nodded at Hammond, but decided to keep his distance. The colonel began talking as we sat down.

“I was held up by a call from Sir Sydney Camm. You know who he is, of course.”

“Chief engineer of Hawker's. As chief designer he was responsible for those wonderful biplanes in the Hart/Fury class, and the Hawker Hurricane which became a legend in World War II. Why, colonel?”

“He rang through to me shortly after you did. Bill Bedford told him of your little episode this afternoon. He had a few comments to make.”

I couldn't fathom his look.

“Good or bad, colonel?”

“
Favorable, I'd say.” The frosty smile had appeared. “Evidently your reactions averted what could have been a set-back for the whole program. If you had crashed this afternoon, no matter what the reason, the Air Ministry would have demanded a review of the P1127. They've already lost one, as you well know, and the second prang might have been the straw to the camel's back. He wanted me to know that you had done good work.”

“
I didn't do anything, colonel. Just got the hell out of there because I had to.”

“Not according to Bill Bedford.” The focus changed abruptly. “Well, what have you brought me?”

I handed over an envelope containing the film container cap, and explained how we had found it.

“I didn't touch it, sir. There could be a fingerprint on it.”

“I'll get it analyzed this evening. Now, I've made some enquiries to our communications people and they say what you saw was probably a microwave antenna.”

“How do they work?”

“On an extremely narrow beam. If the transmitter and receiver are not precisely lined up, then there would be no communication.”

“What about someone else accidentally picking it up?”

“Virtually impossible. The beam is so confined that it travels in one precise direction. Even the most powerful receiver in the world wouldn't catch it if it weren't aimed exactly right. And if there is any obstruction, the signal is lost. There can be nothing in the way.”

“What's the range?”

“It depends on the height of the two antennae and the amplification of the signal. From what you described, they estimate a maximum range of 60 miles. Is all this connected?”

“I'm not sure, sir. So far it doesn't make sense. But any further action could compromise my source. I can't take that chance. I hope you understand.”

“David, in this business we learn to protect our assets. That's the cardinal rule. But if circumstances force us to place an asset in jeopardy we try to warn and not leave him out in the cold. Defection and protective custody is not out of the question. Remember this when you are weighing things in the balance. I trust your judgment.”

He stood. I was beginning to realize that this was his way of ending a meeting.

“I must go. I have a dinner engagement with a field marshal and two admirals. Once again, well done, and good luck tomorrow.”

We shook hands and he strode away. House waited until he had disappeared into the dining room, then sauntered over.

“I'm beginning to wonder if I did the right thing by introducing you, old son. Your whole world seems turned around.”

“Not really, House. This is temporary. A week from now I'll have forgotten all about it.”

He gave me a strange look.

“I doubt that, old son, I really doubt that.”

“Mark my words. Well, are you coming? I'm picking Marijke up at 8:30.”

“I'll call Nicki, but even if she can't make it I'll come along, provided you don't mind the odd man out.”

“Of course we won't mind, Harpic. I've got to change, so I'll nip back to the flat, pick Marijke up, then stop here for you. Will you be in the band room or the mess?”

“The mess, I guess. Good Lord, I'm bored. That rhyme's a crime!”

“Do you ever stop?”

“I'd cry or die to end, my friend.”

“Enough! I'll see you later.”

I grabbed my hat and belt and tore through the door with my fingers in my ears. House was incorrigible, but I couldn't imagine not having him as a friend. How dull life would be.

*

Arriving at my flat I caught Wicks completely off guard.

“'S'truth Mr. Baird! 'Ave you been called up or sumfing?”

I gave him the story about the Territorial Army, but I could see that he was staring at the uniform, the ribbons and the wings. Wicks had been in the desert with Montgomery and the British 8th army, so he had seen his share of action.

I showered and changed quickly into a pair of white duck trousers, open necked shirt, and summer-weight royal blue blazer. As I dressed, my mind was working overtime. There were so many loose ends to think about.

I left the flat early. I wanted to make a telephone call, and obviously I couldn't use my own. The Cumberland was convenient, so I parked in a spot on Quebec Street and went in. Then I called the American embassy, and asked for Tony Cippola. He was there, which didn't surprise me, but had he really worked for the Department of Agriculture I'm sure it would have been nine-to-five.

“Tony Cippola,” he said, tentatively.

“
Tony, I don't know if this call is monitored or not, so I won't mention any names. We met last Saturday night when you dropped in to pay a visit. Remember?”

“
Oh, yeah, sure, I remember. How ya doin'?”

“
I'm just fine, Tony. Does that offer still hold about helping me out?”

“
Name it.”

“
I shouldn't on the phone. Can you meet me for a few minutes? I'm just around the corner at the Cumberland in the cafe.”

“
Five minutes.”

I had barely got a muddy coffee started when he arrived. We shook hands, and he patted his head with a grin.

“Concussion. I shouldn't be working, but you know how it is. What can I do for you?”

“
There are three American pilots doing some work over here on an experimental British aircraft. I've written down their names. There's probably nothing to tie them in to anything that's going on, but I'd appreciate some background on each one. If I tried it officially too many people would know I've asked. Can you help?”

“
Nothin' to it. If they're over here officially, we'll have it all on file.”

He looked at the names, then back at me.

“What's up? This has nothin' to do with the Fletchers, does it?”

“
Nope. Shall we say I'm just helping someone out with a quiet, unofficial inquiry. If nothing turns up, that's the end of it. If there's anything that connects I'll let you know, and you can decide if anything should be done from your end.”

“'Sgood enough for me. I'll call you.”

“
Be careful what you say on my phone. It's bugged, and that's entirely because of the Fletchers. Someone really wants that list. Have you had any luck?”

“
Not worth a shit. An' I gotta be careful, 'cause we been told by 'the man' to lay off. I never knew an ambassador to pull so much clout.”

“
I have to go, Tony. Thanks.”

We shook hands again. He looked at me with narrowed eyes.

“As my old Milanese grandmother would say, slightly paraphrased and translated, 'There's more to thee than the eye can see'. Lemme in on it sometime, David. Maybe it'll help us both.”

I paid my bill as Tony exited. I thought about what he said, but I wasn't sure how much he should know. Not yet, anyway.

*

I was late getting to Marijke, but not much. It surprised me when she came flying out her door, ran to the car and jumped in.

“David,” she said breathlessly, “something happens tonight. It is about an airplane. I talk to one of the men who comes back from Moscow. He is always trying to impress me, and he brags that they 'get lucky' tonight with their operation. I try to get more, but he won't tell me. What can you do?”