Page 16 of Echoes of Betrayal

Tom returned from his meeting. ‘How did you get on?’

Lizzie nodded. ‘All fine. Finished decoding the new messages and they’re ready for you to log.’

Tom scanned the text. ‘Top job, Elizabeth. I must say you are remarkably faster than your predecessor, efficient though she was.’

Lizzie smiled. ‘I’d better go back to Pemberton’s office and see what’s hit my desk whilst we’ve both been gone.’

‘Yes, you do that. I’ll distribute the messages later after he returns.’

Lizzie had contemplated confiding in Tom about what she recognised as the unusual nature of intelligence from a Swiss source, but she decided against it. Experience had taught her to keep her mouth shut. You never knew who you could trust, even within your own organisation. As she crossed from the rear wing and back into her office, she wondered about Tom. How much did he know about the content of the diplomatic traffic? Did he realise something strange was going on, or had she stumbled on an anomaly? She would keep her suspicions secret for now and see if anyone remarked on the message regarding the Panzer movements. After the startling revelation of a traitor at Baker Street the previous year, Val and Jack had instructed her to report only to them about Bern developments. The message meant she was keen to get back into the cipher room as soon as possible and see if she could detect a pattern.

That night as she drifted off to sleep, she decided it was time to establish radio connection with Jack, and she would raise the subject with Tom the following day. Now Jack was at Bletchley Park, she wouldn’t have a direct route to reach him, but they had discussed how she would contact him. It was a complicated process, and for that reason, they had agreed they would only be in touch when there was something urgent to report.

Lizzie closed her eyes and found herself hoping another strange message would arrive so she could contact Jack more often. Even a few coded words passing between them were better than no words at all.

CHAPTER 14

Lizzie walked to the Old Town, as she did most days. It was a clear but frosty day, and she welcomed the clean air that filled her lungs. Reaching her favourite café, she ordered the same delicious lunch she always did. Ursula had the day off, but the service and food were as impeccable as ever. Browsing the newspaper had become a habit, and she read about the French compulsory labour service. The Nazi-collaborating Vichy administration, operating under full German occupation since November 1942, had just introduced the STO—Service du Travail Obligatoire. French men born between 1920 and 1922 must now leave France to work in German industries to fill the gap created by German men conscripted into the military. It was a forced labour order, and Lizzie wondered what the implications for their French Resistance networks would be. What about Lev in Toulouse and her cousin Fabian in St Malo? Lizzie guessed they would be prime targets, along with thousands of other young men.

Lizzie sipped the coffee and read the article, which explored the consequences for Switzerland of such a harsh decree. The conclusion was it would result in a dramatically increased number of French refugees arriving at the Swiss border.

Thoughts of the border brought little Liesel into her mind, and she wondered how she and the mischehe, the mixed Jewish family who had pledged to care for her as if she were her own, were getting on. When Lizzie received her orders for Bern, she had immediately thought of the sweet little girl who had stolen her heart when she volunteered at the Berlin orphanage.

Val had read her mind in the eerie way she often did and warned her to stay away from the family, her voice stern. ‘You’ll only endanger them, Hildegard’s mother and yourself if you make contact. You know that, so don’t do it.’

Lizzie sighed and acknowledged that she did know that. ‘You’re right, of course, but it seems like fate that I’ll be there so soon after they escaped to Switzerland.’

Val said, ‘Drawing on the whimsical concept of fate may be useful at times if it motivates, but in this instance, I’m ordering you to put it out of your mind.’

Hildegard had let them know via their contacts in Switzerland that the family had arrived safely at her mother’s house. That was several months ago now, and Lizzie was eager to know if they were still in Bern or had continued on their journey to put as much distance between themselves and the Nazis as they could. In a way, she wished they were still in Bern so she might catch a glimpse of Liesel, but she also hoped they had escaped Europe and were beyond the reach of Hitler’s deadly Third Reich. If the situation were different, she knew she would have asked Jack if they could adopt Liesel and bring her back to London, so taken was she with the little Jewish orphan girl. Lizzie sighed. That had not been an option for too many reasons, and she had done the best she could in the circumstances. At least Liesel was being raised by a Jewish woman, and she had a new sister for company. If they kept their Jewish identities hidden, they would have a good chance of surviving the war, and perhaps Lizzie could visit Liesel in the future. Lizzie returned to the office, and the afternoon passed quickly as she became absorbed in the translation work for Pemberton.

The following lunchtime she left the Legation and instead of walking to the café, she walked east along the main arcade in the Old Town towards the Nydegg Bridge. Crossing the Aare on the far side of the peninsula, she then climbed the steep hill and entered the Rosengarten. The rose garden was bare of blooms in the frigid winter season, but the views over the river and the city were said to be spectacular and worth the effort. Fortunately, the dense sea of fog so characteristic of the Mittelland lowlands had lifted, and when she reached the upper terrace, the sweeping snow-sprinkled panoramic scene was as breathtaking as Tom had promised. It was he who had arranged her rendezvous with her Berlin agent, and as she admired the view of the aquamarine river bend and the majestic cathedral, she caught sight of a familiar figure next to a pond ringed by stone sculptures. Holding herself back from rushing to embrace the woman, which was her natural inclination, she instead caught her eye and with a discreet nod indicated for her to join her on the viewing terrace.

On the way, Lizzie had checked she wasn’t being followed and had circled the Old Town several times before turning towards the park, and once she entered, her eyes scanned the grounds repeatedly for anyone suspicious. There were only a few people in sight in the cold park, and Lizzie waited on the terrace, her hands thrust deep in her pockets as she gazed out over the city.

Footsteps approached, and she turned her head briefly to see a tall woman limping towards the terrace. Facing the view, so anyone watching couldn’t see they were in conversation, Lizzie greeted the new arrival whom she had recruited to be her Berlin-Bern courier and trusted agent. Ties were forged fast in wartime, and Lizzie was relieved to see her looking well. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘And you,’ Hildegard replied, gazing out at the view, modelling Lizzie’s example.

Lizzie moved her head slightly to check no one was within earshot, but the area remained deserted. She saw a father in the distance, throwing a ball to his two small children who were bundled up in heavy coats and scarves against the chill. Their excited giggles as they swooped for the ball and one of them took a tumble rang out. The scene reminded her of Liesel, and her chest ached. It was too dangerous to ask Hildegard to bring the little girl to see her. It was dangerous enough just to meet the courier like this.

‘How are you?’ Lizzie asked, her breath fogging in the air.

‘Well, thank you.’

‘And the family?’ Lizzie asked, leaving Hildegard to interpret her meaning however she might.

‘My mother is well, and so are her visitors.’

Lizzie shifted her feet slightly to the left as if looking in a different direction, away from Hildegard. As she glanced back, she saw a man hunched in an overcoat next to the pond. He was a new arrival, and Lizzie’s senses immediately heightened. They had warned her repeatedly at Baker Street that she would likely be under observation by Swiss counterintelligence, but so far, she’d not spotted anyone on her trail, despite her vigilant spycraft.

‘They are still in Bern, then?’

‘Yes, still here for now, at least.’

The less they both knew of the other’s plans the better, so Lizzie didn’t pry for further details.

‘We must be quick,’ Lizzie continued, her voice a murmur. ‘I wanted to take the opportunity to check in and make sure you are happy to continue the work.’