Page 42 of Echoes of Betrayal

Lizzie signed off, and Tom took care of her codebook. Then she hid the latest evidence behind a different painting, but also checked that the last piece she had received was still where it should be.

The proof was mounting, and she must despatch it to London without delay. When was the next diplomatic bag? If the papers were somehow intercepted, all her and Brunner’s hard work would be for nothing.

CHAPTER 37

Jack had tried to get a meeting with Gould several times throughout the day, but his secretary denied him entry repeatedly, using a variety of excuses. By late afternoon, he was determined to be fobbed off no longer and strode across the grounds back into the mansion.

The secretary looked uncomfortable when she saw him again. Clearly, she had been instructed to refuse him entry, and it was growing more difficult for her each time he returned.

‘How may I help you, sir?’ she said, as if he hadn’t been there just an hour earlier.

Jack’s dark good looks and masculine charisma usually worked miracles on the ladies, but this one seemed wholly unimpressed by his charms. She was a woman in her fifties, he estimated, with a spectacle chain around her neck, and she exuded an air of ultimate efficiency. She was exactly the tough type you needed on your side when you were fighting the Germans, and she was more like a fierce guard dog than a welcoming secretary. Whilst Jack understood the usefulness of her approach, it was a shame her prickly exterior was targeting him.

Tutting ever so slightly, so he barely caught the sound, he noticed her mouth pinch into a disapproving frown.

‘I’m afraid Mr Gould isn’t available. This is a particularly busy day, and he’s scheduled until late tonight in important meetings.’

Jack hovered near her desk. ‘I’ll wait then and catch him in one of his openings. I have nowhere more urgent to be, and I’m certain he’ll need a break at some stage.’

The secretary raised her head from where she had returned to organising files as if she had already dismissed him. ‘There’s really no point, sir. As I said, Mr Gould is booked solid and won’t have even a small window to see you.’

Jack knew when he was being handled, and it only made him more determined to get into Gould’s office and have it out with him. He leant over her desk and whispered next to her ear. ‘It’s a matter of national security. I can promise you; your boss will not be pleased when he realises you’ve blocked me from seeing him.’

A red blotch stained her cheeks, and he saw he had penetrated her professional veneer. She rose from her chair. ‘Very well, I will see if he has a moment. As it happens, someone just left a few minutes ago, so perhaps he can fit you in.’

‘Wonderful,’ Jack said, cynically thinking how convenient it was that Gould was not in a meeting at all, but there was no use in aggravating the woman further when she was simply following Gould’s instructions.

The secretary returned from her boss’s office, saying Mr Gould could see him now for a few minutes only, but disapproval still clouded her features.

‘That’s all I need. Thank you very much for your help,’ he said, the epitome of gallantry, despite her reluctance to honour his request. You never knew when you might need someone’s help again, and he had a feeling his seeking an audience with Gould could repeat itself.

Gould stood by the window and turned when Jack entered. ‘Ah, just stretching my legs, King. I have back-to-back meetings scheduled until late tonight.’

‘So I understand, sir. Good of you to fit me in. I won’t take more of your time than necessary, but something urgent has come to my attention, and I thought you should know without further delay.’

Gould returned to his desk, offered Jack a cigarette and a light, and then lit his own and took a thirsty drag as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and only nicotine could hold him upright.

‘A tough day, sir?’ Jack said. ‘Had a few of those myself, I don’t mind admitting.’

Gould sighed and inhaled again, as a film of smoke hovered in the air between them. ‘You seem like a decent sort, King, but get on with it, old chap.’

Gould’s tone irritated Jack, but he knew better than to rise to the bait. It was part of the officer’s strategy, and Jack must remain cool whilst he provoked Gould to let things slip, not the other way around.

‘Apologies for the interruption, but this is important,’ Jack said, his cigarette in one hand as he fixed Gould with a fierce stare, and the balance between them shifted.

‘Go on,’ Gould said, as though resigned to the interruption.

‘An important batch of intercepts landed on my desk yesterday but was revoked before I could finish with them. Something about my security clearance.’

Gould cleared his throat and reached for a file as if he were suddenly too busy for this conversation and must get on immediately. His voice was matter of fact, as though Jack was wasting his time. ‘I’m afraid they were released to you in error. It was a routine classification problem that had to be corrected. Nothing to concern you, King. I hope that’s not what’s brought you over here.’

Jack didn’t miss a beat. ‘I realise you are handling a lot. Perhaps you are unaware of the contents of the intercepts, but I believe we have a serious problem worthy of your attention. What I read yesterday revealed that our intelligence is being routed through a Swiss channel. And I had spotted this happening before, but thought I must have been mistaken. There seems to be a pattern, and one of our agents in the field noticed it recently too. What I would like to know is how this is possible?’

Gould returned his stare, unblinking, and said in a cool voice designed to shut Jack’s line of questioning down. ‘It’s already been handled, Captain.’

‘You know about this? It’s a serious breach of protocol.’

‘Let it go, King. You were given higher security clearance strictly to improve the flow of intelligence to Baker Street, and to handle your traitor. That is quite enough for you to concern yourself with, and I need you to forget what you read or think you read yesterday.’