Chapter 35
CHAPTER 35
L izzie arrived at the service entrance of German High Command at 6 p.m. wearing a cleaner’s outfit and a headscarf like Celine’s, who stood waiting for her outside, shifting from one foot to the other.
Lizzie beamed a smile and greeted Celine. ‘Act natural like I’m one of your team,’ she said out of the side of her mouth as they mounted the steps.
The security wasn’t as tight at the back, which Lizzie thought stupid because that was the weak spot someone like her would exploit.
A young soldier with a rifle slung over his shoulder moved towards them. ‘ID,’ he said, looking at Lizzie, stifling a yawn. He’d been on duty all day, and guarding the service entrance was known as one of the dullest jobs in the building. The guards only admitted cleaners, delivery workers and maintenance people, and didn’t get to meet anyone important like the guards at the main entrance did. The soldier gave the ID card a cursory glance and his eyes flickered from the card to Lizzie and back again. ‘Why are you later than the rest of the cleaning crew?’ he asked, now more alert .
Celine leant closer and said in a hushed tone. ‘She was unwell with a cold but is feeling much better now and there’s a lot to do. We need her.’
The soldier jumped backwards as though he’d been burnt and waved them in without another word.
When they reached the large cupboard under the back staircase and Celine ushered Lizzie inside to kit her out with supplies, she whispered, ‘The Nazis have a morbid fear of illness. The fastest way to get them off your back is to say you’re sick.’
‘I shall remember that!’ said Lizzie.
Celine continued, ‘The rest of the crew should be in different parts of the building. I checked earlier, but Collette wasn’t there. The major general may be away on business. I didn’t see him at all today.’
Where was Hannah if she wasn’t in this building? That her boss conveniently was nowhere to be seen, when Lizzie knew from Hannah’s reports that he was usually in his office every day, heightened Lizzie’s suspicions that something had gone horribly wrong.
Celine’s forecast was correct, and the building was deserted as they walked up the sweeping marble staircase carrying their buckets and mops. Lizzie scanned the area, alert for unwanted surprises, but all was quiet as she followed Celine across the landing and stood behind her waiting whilst she tapped on the door and called out to see if anyone was inside. A moment passed with no response, so she rattled her big key chain, selected a large silver key and turned it in the lock and opened the door. Celine turned to Lizzie when they entered the outer office and placed one finger over her lips to urge Lizzie to stay quiet.
Lizzie held her breath. She realised she was moving her lips, praying silently that nothing terrible had befallen Hannah. She couldn’t bear it if her friend, who over recent weeks had become like a real sister, had met a violent end. If someone deserved a happy ending, it was Hannah. She had never known anyone with such a tragic story, and she understood now why Jack felt such responsibility for the tough Resistance leader who would be the first to say she was perfectly capable of looking after herself.
Please let that be true . Lizzie assessed the empty room. Everything was tidy and as you might expect an excellent secretary’s office to be.
‘Do you notice anything strange?’ she whispered to Celine, who was dusting as if she hadn’t just aided an enemy of the Reich to enter their headquarters. Lizzie saw why Philippe had recruited her to his network. She was calm and going about her business as if nothing unusual had happened. Some people were naturally suited to this type of work. Lizzie still had so much to learn, and one of the biggest surprises was how much she was learning about people.
Celine whispered that she didn’t.
Lizzie pointed to the door to the main office, that she guessed was the major general’s inner sanctum. ‘Do you clean in there too?’ she mouthed.
Celine nodded. Lizzie gestured for her to open the door as she stood to one side, out of sight, whilst the cleaner repeated the routine of tapping, calling out and then locating the correct key and sliding it into the lock until the door clicked open. Celine entered the room, scanned the interior and then signalled it was safe to follow her in. Lizzie entered stealthily even in her ungainly cleaner’s boots and crossed the large imposing office to the window. What a view of Paris. She could see why Hannah’s boss chose this office.
Lizzie inhaled and squared her shoulders as if to prepare herself for any eventuality. Then she methodically opened every cupboard and searched for anything that might give her a clue about where Hannah was. When she finished checking, she released a sigh, relief washing over her.
Thank God. Hannah wasn’t lying dead in a cupboard.
Lizzie’s heartbeat gradually regulated, and she walked across the room to where Celine was cleaning. She had explained to Lizzie, she could let her in, but she had a job to do and needed to be out on time if they weren’t to raise suspicion. With Lizzie swapping places with one of the crew who had a similar look, they were one woman down, and Celine was working fast to make up for it.
Now Lizzie pointed to the opposite wall. The offices were like a maze and there was yet another identical interior door. Hannah had mentioned her boss had a suite of rooms, but she hadn’t accessed them yet. She hoped she would find more secrets to pass to London and planned to break into the rooms but was waiting for him to be away.
Celine told Lizzie she didn’t have access to the major general’s private rooms. Lizzie searched through the desk drawers for a key but couldn’t find one. Fortunately, she was prepared and bent her head as she undid her leather belt. She lay it across the surface of the desk and twisted the belt pin until it slid out of the clasp, and she pushed the end until it transformed into a clever little lockpick. Charlie, the SOE trainer’s face, appeared in her mind as she worked. He had shown her how to unpick locks and now she nodded to Celine to follow the plan.
The cleaner laid her mop down and crossed the room to knock on the door. She tapped twice and called out the major general’s name. Lizzie had told her to think of a reasonable excuse for disturbing him in case he was in his rooms, but no excuse was needed. There was no response, and no sound could be heard from beyond the locked door.
Lizzie guided Celine to the desk chair and deftly extracted the cord from her pocket and tied the cleaner’s hands behind her back and loosely patted a piece of tape over her mouth. It was Philippe’s recommendation, so that if Celine was seen, it would look like the enemy had duped her, and there wouldn’t be murderous reprisals by the Nazis.
Then Lizzie turned her attention to the door and inserted the tool into the lock. It took a few minutes of twisting and turning the lockpick until she heard the click. This was the first time she’d unpicked a lock in the field, and it gave her a thrill.
She patted her overalls and was reassured to feel the hard object nestled in the deep pocket. Then she turned to Celine, who sat obediently on the chair watching her. Lizzie signalled she was going in and tentatively opened the door.
The first thing that hit her was the overpowering smell in the room. It was a mixture of sweat and something else she couldn’t quite place. Lizzie fumbled about in the dark, with only a faint glow from the dim evening streetlights filtering into the room. Her fingers located a switch on the wall, which she flicked, and the light came on.
Lizzie blinked and got her bearings as she gazed around the room. There was Nazi memorabilia on every surface and an ominous swastika hung on the wall in pride of place. It was like a temple to Hitler, and she saw photos of him and his vile gang lining the shelves. She poked about, searching for clues of where Hannah might be, careful not to make any noise. There was no sign of a scuffle, and doubt crept into Lizzie’s mind. Perhaps her gut had led her wrong this time and Hannah really had been called away on urgent Resistance business and hadn’t been able to let her know.
It could be, Lizzie reasoned, but she still had a nagging sense that something wasn’t right. Celine had warned her they didn’t have long and must get out of the building before the night watchmen began their rounds. Lizzie glanced at her watch. It was almost 6.30 p.m. Celine said the guards came around when she was usually about to leave at 7 p.m. Lizzie’s eyes lit on a door presumably leading into yet another room, and she tiptoed towards it. This was some set up; no wonder Hannah wanted to access his private rooms. Had she done so, and been caught in the act?
Potential scenarios of how Hannah had been detected swirled around her brain, and her heart thudded furiously as she withdrew her gun from her pocket and stood poised to enter the next room. For all she knew, the major general might have imprisoned her there. Hannah said he was a pervert, and she had been fending his advances off since the beginning.
Lizzie listened carefully, her ear to the door, but there was no sound. She touched the door handle and turned it gently, gun positioned just like she had been trained at the stately home in her induction into the Special Operations Executive. She readied herself to swoop into the room and rescue Hannah. Lizzie was counting on an element of surprise.
Lizzie calculated the major general wouldn’t expect an avenging British agent to show up, and that would be his downfall.
A memory of another Nazi officer ambushed Lizzie, and she pushed it firmly away. She needed all her wits about her, and there was no room for confusion in the field. Lizzie opened the door slowly and stuck her head around the frame. It was even darker and only the light from the other room filtered in as if there were no windows. She stepped inside, expecting to find an empty space in a new room, but her leg nudged something solid, and she gasped, only just stopping an involuntary shriek. Her fingers explored further in the dark and her eyes couldn’t make out any detail except that something was in front of her. The smell of sweat was now overpowering, and the other smell she couldn’t identify permeated her nostrils again, making her heave. She sought another light switch but couldn’t find one. This was no good. She couldn’t see a thing. It must be some kind of storeroom or cupboard, so she would need a torch or lamp to see what was inside.
Lizzie re-entered the other room, crossed to the door, and poked her head out to check on Celine. She was still sitting as she had left her, but when their eyes met, she saw an urgency in them. Celine knew the time was ticking, and she moved her head toward the door as if to tell her to hurry.
Lizzie held up one hand, indicating she needed five more minutes, and then she went to Hannah’s desk and located a torch and hurried back into the other room and towards the cupboard. There was an awful odour in there and Lizzie was trying not to fear the worst, but a dreadful possibility loomed in her mind. Lizzie swallowed down the rising panic as the smell hit her again.
Had the major general murdered Hannah?
Lizzie shone the light into the cupboard. Her instinct was to scream, but she clamped her mouth shut like the experienced agent she had become. Before her, a blood-soaked head drooped onto a blood-spattered chest.