The Prime Minister's Secret Agent (35 page)

Japan in World War II and the attack on Pearl Harbor specifically was a fascinating topic to research. Again, I’d like to thank Ronald Granieri, PhD, and Michael Feeley for some of the book recommendations:
The Reluctant Admiral: Yamamoto and the Imperial Navy
, by Hiroyuki Agawa
; Hitler’s Japanese Confidant
, by Carl Boyd;
The Man Who Broke Purple: The Life of Colonel William F. Friedman
, by Ronald William Clark;
Pearl Harbor: Final Judgement
, by Henry C. Clausen;
Codebreakers’ Victory: How the Allied Cryptographers Won World War II
, by Hervie Haufler;
The Broken Seal
, by Ladislas Farago;
Pearl Harbor: FDR Leads the Nation into War
, by Steven M. Gillon;
Fateful Choices: Ten Decisions That Changed the World, 1940–1941
, by Ian Kershaw;
Marching Orders
,
by Bruce Lee; and
At Dawn We Slept: The Untold Story of Pearl Harbor
, by Gordon W. Prange.

For information on floriography, I’m indebted to:
The Language of Flowers
, by Kate Greenaway;
Flora’s Interpreter and Fortuna Flora (Classic Reprint)
, by Sarah Josepha Buell Hale; and
The Language of Flowers; With Illustrative Poetry; to Which Are Now Added the Calendar of Flowers and the Dial of Flowers
, by Frederic Shoberl.

A final book, which must be placed under the category of “other,” was used for the basis of Clara Hess’s story. It’s classified as nonfiction—whether you believe that or not is up to you. Regardless, it’s fascinating reading:
The CIA’s Control of Candy Jones
, by Donald Bain. I’m not sure I believe it, but it’s fascinating (and disturbing) to contemplate, and the origins of making such Manchurian Candidate–like spies allegedly has Nazi-era roots.

I relied on many films, as well, including:
Diary of War: Road to Pearl Harbor; Ken Burns: The War; Great Blunders of World War II; History of World War II: Japanese Paranoia; Japan’s War: In Color; J. Edgar Hoover; John Ford’s December 7th; Pearl Harbor: Before and After; Pearl Harbor: Dawn of Death; Pearl Harbor: Legacy of Attack; Pearl Harbor: The View from Japan;
and
War in the Pacific with Walter Cronkite. War in the Pacific
is particularly fascinating because it shows real-life spy Takeo Yoshikawa discussing his espionage work on Oahu, as well as his relationship with Consul Kita.

Thank you to Kate Miciak and Victoria Skurnick, Maggie Hope’s fairy godmothers—tussy-mussies of pink roses, snapdragons, and violets to each.

And thanks to the usual suspects, Noel MacNeal and Idria Barone Knecht. For Noel, a bouquet of pink peonies. And for Idria, a vase of irises—purple and one yellow.

Pots of chrysanthemums to Lindsey Kennedy, Maggie Oberrander, Priyanka Krishnan, and Laura Jorstad, for all they do.

Dozens of lavender roses to Gina Wachtel, Susan Corcoran, Vincent La Scala, Kim Hovey, Dana Blanchette, and Sophia Wiedeman at Random House. And the Random House sales team deserves an extra special thank-you and an armful of camellias for believing in Maggie Hope from the beginning.

Bunches of bluebells to new friends in Scotland, including Sarah Winnington-Ingram at Arisaig House; her son, Archie Winnington-Ingram; husband, Peter Winnington-Ingram; and lovely golden labs Midge, Tarka, and Riska. As well as Richard Lamont and his lovely wife, Ann Lamont. Staying on the actual property where SOE agents trained and being able to explore the nearby land was invaluable. Being able to see the original floor plans the SOE officers wrote over when they appropriated the house gave me goose bumps.

In addition, a special thank-you and stalks of birds-of-paradise
to Richard and Ann Lamont, who also took the time to speak with me and answer my questions. I’m humbled by your warmth and generosity to the lone Yank wandering around the Western Islands in winter—in questionable footwear, no less.

Branches of holly berries to Alison Stewart, who runs The Land, Sea & Islands Visitor Centre, and also to David M. Harrison, author of
Special Operations Executive: Para-Military Training in Scotland During World War II
.

Nasturtiums for Officer Rick McMahan in the United States, and Officers Lee Loftland and Paul Beecroft in the UK, who looked things over from the police and coroner’s point of view.

Thanks and pink cherry blossom petals in cups of sake to friends from Japan: Taka Tsurutani, Yasushi Yagashita, Manabu Nagaoka, Mizuka Kamijo, Satoshi Tsuruoka (aka “Samurai Big Bird”), as well as Canadian Karen Fowler, and U.S.A.’s Michelle Hickey and Scott Cameron. I was privileged to be able to visit Tokyo while my husband was working on the Japanese production of
Sesame Street
, auditioning and training their Big Bird. It was during Sakura Matsuri season, and I completely, absolutely, and utterly fell in love with all things Japanese. Thank you for your hospitality in showing my husband and me around Tokyo, and sharing your vast knowledge of all things Japanese. Domo arigatou gozaimasu and
.

Thank you and a bunch of shamrocks to Michael T. Feeley, for both the book recommendations and good cheer.

A boutonniere of verbena and special thanks to historian Ronald J. Granieri, PhD, for suggestions for books, articles, films, and endless history-nerd chats about World War II (including enough conversations about anthrax and bioweapons that I’m sure we’ve landed on a government watch list).

Leis of hibiscus flowers to dear Kimmerie H. O. Jones and her mother, Valerie Jones, for the spirit of
aloha
, help in Honolulu,
and stories of the attack on Pearl Harbor from the Hawaiian civilian point of view.

Delphiniums to Wendy Alden, BScN, for medical advice; Claire M. Busse, for flower symbolism; Scott Cameron; Camille Capozzi Carino and Jerry Carino; Edna MacNeal; and Caitlin Sims for their help and support.

A nosegay of magnolia blossoms to Professor Phyllis Brooks Schafer—Londoner, Blitz survivor, UC Berkeley lecturer, and all-around lovely person.

Gorgeous gladiolus to the inspiring Dr. Meredith Norris, for answering medical and anthrax-related questions.

And, as always, thank you to Matthew MacNeal—who would undoubtedly prefer chocolate to the cactus flowers I’d offer.

And, lastly, red poppies for the brave SOE operatives who trained at Arisaig House and elsewhere.

Mr. Churchill’s Secretary

Princess Elizabeth’s Spy

His Majesty’s Hope

The Prime Minister’s Secret Agent

S
USAN
E
LIA
M
AC
N
EAL
is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of the Maggie Hope mystery series, including
Mr. Churchill’s Secretary, Princess Elizabeth’s Spy
, and
His Majesty’s Hope
. She is the winner of the Barry Award and was shortlisted for the Edgar, Macavity, Dilys, Bruce Alexander Memorial Historical Mystery, and Sue Federer Historical Fiction awards. She lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn, with her husband and son.

www.susaneliamacneal.com

Facebook.com/maggiehopefans

@SusanMacNeal

Elise Hess was back in Berlin.

She’d been arrested as soon as she’d arrived back on German soil, as she knew she would be, and taken to Spandau Prison on Wilhelmstrasse—a fortress of shadows, battlements, and thick smokestacks.

“What is your position on Operation Compassionate Death?” they asked her. “Did you know Clara Hess was going to betray Germany? Who were those with her, and how were they hidden on the train from Berlin to Zurich?”

They were being polite this time, Elise noted. The superintendent of Spandau, acting as primary interrogator, offered her coffee and cigarettes, and kept the lights out of her eyes.

He was a tall man, thin, but with a paunch that gave him the ominous appearance of a spider.

“We have your friend Frieda in custody here, too,” he said confidentially, getting up and walking around her, putting a hand on her shoulder. He leaned in, speaking in a confiding way. “We know you helped her husband, a Jew, escape. But how? And how was your mother involved?”

Elise remained silent. Frieda had betrayed her, but that didn’t mean she would betray Frieda.

“Look,” the superintendent said, finishing his circle around the table and sitting opposite her again, “I was raised Catholic, too. Do
you know what the priests used to say? ‘Give me a boy for seven years and I will give you a Catholic for life.’ I understand how it works. And I understand you’re a nurse and you want to be a nun? So admirable … But you’re covering for a Jew-lover and a traitor—they’ve set you up to take the blame. And you know”—he pressed a hand to his heart—“it hurts me to see them do it, a lovely Aryan girl like you. If you could just tell me something, a little something, I’ll see if I can help you, in return …”

Elise was sleep-deprived and hungry. She was confused and grieving. Her head hurt, her body hurt, her heart hurt.

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” she said slowly, “so why don’t you just do what you’re going to do to me and get it over with.”

An ugly look shadowed the supervisor’s face. He pushed back his chair and regarded her with cold eyes. “What is your position on Operation Compassionate Death?”

Elise felt light-headed, but she held her ground, her eyes shining with conviction. “I believe that so-called Operation Compassionate Death isn’t euthanasia—but murder. Dr. Brandt and the rest are murderers of innocent children.”

“That is hearsay.”

“I wish it were—but I’ve seen the gassing of children from Charité Hospital with my own eyes, at Hadamar.”

The superintendent had lost patience. “That’s enough. Guards!” Two men in gray uniforms grabbed Elise, one at each arm, and led her away.

“You’re being moved, Fraulein Hess,” he called after her.

Elise didn’t answer. She knew where she was going. All the prisoners whispered about it, dreading the trip and the destination.

“I hope you will enjoy your stay at Ravensbrück.
Auf Wiedersehen, gnädiges Fräulein
.”