The Spy by Marc Eden

Author:Marc Eden [Eden, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781590773284
Publisher: M. Evans & Company
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

IV

Saturday’s sun was hitting them hard.

Through the left rear window a comer chop of light flashed on braided felt, touching the unyielding shoulder of blue broadcloth, just under the epaulet. The driver lowered the visor. Commodore Blackstone, O.B.E., V.C., was sitting stiffly in the back of his personal car, as he had for some thirty years, eyes straight ahead, for all appearances cut from the same marble as Nelson. His driver, maneuvering the black Bentley through the Buckinghamshire traffic, shot past raised beds of blue and yellow flowers down early-morning lanes of red mercury gravel.

Once past the sentries, and into the welcome brick of Bletchley Park, Commodore Blackstone found solace. Equal to Mountbatten in pay, if not in public relations, Blackstone’s hatred of Lord Louis, the sponsor of Valerie Sinclair, engulfed him as he walked down corridors that smelled of cleansing solvents and into the large office where his Adjutant, Lieutenant Conrad Parker, had already arranged the morning’s dossiers. Fluent in German, familiar with Berlin, Parker had been recruited from the London School of Economics. Having personally seen to his Clearance, the Commodore considered the future banker, who was dark of thought and insidiously silent, a particularly valuable asset in the ongoing business with his European partners.

“By Jove! ‘Pronto,’ as they say, ah?”

Following their journey through the labyrinths of history, the thick stack of files had reached their final destination and were now awaiting one of the two hand stamps that would determine their fate:

KEEP, or DESTROY.

The decision was Blackstone’s.

In looking back over his life, he knew that people in high places were afraid of him. Yet he had come too far to let this influence his judgment. Controlling the ticket office on MI.5’s midway of recent attractions, a hot cup of tea at hand, the Commodore opened the first of the folders, turned it sideways and read the name: Erich von Schroeder. Their positions analogous, von Schroeder orchestrated Intelligence for Germany.

They had met, before the war.

He looked inside: J. Henry Schroeder Co., Schroeder Bankers, Hamburg. Present Rank: Commandant, Abwehr. Present location unknown: presumed France. Without glancing up, he said, “Good work, Parker.” He flicked through the rest of the tabs. “By the way, have Bridley call me, will you?” Not gone five seconds, there was a tap at the door. “Now what?” The Commodore looked up.

It was his Adjutant.

“Sorry, sir. I just remembered. About Bridley—?”

“Bridley, yes? What about him?”

“There was a cable early this morning, sir. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Ay? Nonsense, Parker! Out with it!”

“Bridley is out of the country, sir. No one quite knows where, but the cable did state that he would be sending a message—to Commander Hamilton, sir.”

“Intercept it, Parker.”

“Yes, sir!”

So! David Hamilton, sucking up to Mountbatten, thought he had Bridley in his pocket, did he? That torpedo who worked for him, too! Lieutenant Seymour, wasn’t he? Marty Seymour’s kid. Why, the bounders were as clear as a spyglass! There was a new breed of blackmailer these days—but he still had a trick or two.

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