Chapter 28
Lizzie turned the problem over in her mind, this way and that, but with no satisfactory solution.
On this mission, she was alone with no Jack or Hannah at her side to step in when she needed to outwit a potential shadow.
As she translated the latest pile of documents from Pemberton, her thoughts whirred in the background.
She couldn’t leave the package overnight when she knew it would be there this afternoon.
That wasn’t fair to Brunner, who had taken the trouble to manufacture a way to get her into his office to confirm the first package was in safe hands and tell her he would leave her another one.
He was risking his reputation and even his life by raising his head above the parapet like this, and she must rise to the occasion and have his back.
The man in the café clearly had an agenda, but what was it?
And how far would he go in his surveillance?
These were the questions that burned into Lizzie’s consciousness as she translated the mundane documents about wartime commerce.
She was alert for anything unusual that would confirm her suspicions about Pemberton, but so far nothing substantial backed up her theory.
He could be a bit slimy, but Lizzie reasoned that didn’t mean he was corrupt.
Her imagination was running away with her again, and she was seeing spies and traitors on every corner.
Shaking her head as if to rid her thoughts of the plague of suspicions consuming her, she completed the latest batch of translations and knocked on Pemberton’s door.
‘Just a moment,’ he called out, his voice loud and commanding, stopping Lizzie in her tracks.
She stood there, wondering whether to leave and try again later. There were a few things she needed him to sign off on. Then she heard his voice on the other side of the door. No one had joined him for a meeting, so she assumed he was talking on the phone.
Lizzie glanced around and saw one secretary immersed in typing, facing the other way. The others were not at their desks, so she hovered on the spot, holding the sheaf of papers, and then leaned as close to the door as she could get without obviously eavesdropping if someone saw her.
Some of what he said floated through the door. ‘Don’t worry. I will follow through on our agreement.’
No matter how she strained, she couldn’t hear the next sentence, which came after a brief pause when he must have listened to the response. His words were muted, and she muttered under her breath. ‘Damn it.’
Val’s propensity to curse had rubbed off on her during the years of sharing her office, and Lizzie used language she would never have dreamt of using before the war.
Her mother occasionally reprimanded her, but Lizzie noticed even her mother, who was so well-spoken and proper, occasionally used words that she too would not have used before.
The war had changed them all—some more than others.
The sound of the receiver slamming onto the cradle jolted Lizzie out of her reverie, and she heard Pemberton call out, ‘Come in if you are still there.’
Lizzie opened the door and approached him with the documents that needed his attention. She wondered what agreement he was following through on. It sounded suspicious, but could quite easily have been innocent. It was part of the Commercial Attaché’s job to make and adhere to agreements, after all.
Pemberton switched into what she recognised as his appeasing mode. ‘The line was so poor that I could barely hear a word. Apologies for the slight delay. This all looks good, though. Wonderful job as always, Elizabeth.’
Lizzie smiled and thanked him as if she had no suspicions whatsoever, but his overcompensating only made her suspect him more. He was being far too complimentary in the circumstances.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of activity, and when Lizzie checked the clock, it showed just after 5 p.m. Her thorny problem was still not resolved.
She’d considered popping out earlier. Knowing what she knew of intelligence services, she might still be under intermittent surveillance as a newcomer, but she doubted she was important enough as a lower-level legation employee to warrant round-the-clock eyes on her.
If anything, she’d be followed when she left work, but it had been a moot point as she couldn’t get away earlier anyway, and hadn’t even gone out for lunch.
Now she was itching to hurry over to the Old Town, but she couldn’t risk it.
If she were followed leaving the office, they might spot her retrieving Brunner’s dead-drop.
Lizzie had some level of diplomatic cover, but she wasn’t a minister with full diplomatic immunity.
She must be cautious, especially as she needed the flow of intelligence from Brunner to be ongoing if she were to get the irrefutable proof for London.
The thought crossed her mind that perhaps Brunner was being watched, too.
She wouldn’t put it past Swiss counterintelligence to monitor influential bankers when so much was at stake.
If what the Allies suspected was true about the extent of Swiss collaboration with the Nazis, they would be wary about who might expose what they were up to.
But she concluded it was unlikely they would suspect Brunner, who had everything to gain financially from the situation.
No one was holding the bankers to account in Switzerland as far as Lizzie could understand, and if anything, they were encouraged to launder more ill-gotten gains from the German war chest.
Had Brunner been followed when he left the dead drop for her? Surely his shadow would have taken the package himself. Unless, of course, they were laying a trap for them both and letting them get in so deep they would gather all the evidence they needed for when the time was right to arrest them.
Lizzie shuddered. Jack had set up her emergency escape details with her, and she knew what to do if she were blown.
He warned her again that the more she went undercover, the higher the risk someone would recognise her.
He joked that fortunately she and Hannah had eliminated most of their enemies, but they must remember there were still a few at large.
Lizzie had poked Jack in the ribs when he teased her, and she laughed, but she couldn’t argue with his logic.
She and Hannah had taken out several high-ranking Nazis who had caught them in action, and Jack had also disposed of the enemy, but there must be some who could identify her if they were to meet again.
It was best not to dwell on those incidents, or she would never sleep at night, but their faces still haunted her, and she had to remind herself of the evil deeds they had committed.
They were not the victims of their deadly regime, and they got what was coming to them.
Their deaths meant they couldn’t continue to implement Hitler’s plan.
Lizzie walked over to the cipher room in search of Tom. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? The solution was obvious now, and she hoped he was on site, or she would have to delay.
Tapping on the door with the coded knock they had agreed on got her the result she was hoping for. Tom appeared in the doorway and ushered her in, locking the door behind her.
‘Good to see you. Everything alright?’ he said.
Lizzie thought he really was a good man, and she trusted him more as the weeks rolled by.
‘Yes, all’s fine. And you?’
‘Perfect timing!’ Tom said he was just wrapping something up and he was about to call her to see if she was available for a shift.
‘Of course. I’ll just tidy up my desk and be back in ten minutes if that works for you?’ Tom nodded. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she raised the subject on her mind. ‘I need a favour from you.’
‘Oh, yes? That sounds intriguing. Another despatch for the pouch? It may be some time before another is due, but I can let you know when.’
‘Yes, to that, please, but no, it’s something rather more immediate. And time sensitive.’
‘I’m all ears,’ Tom said.
Lizzie moved further into the room and signalled for Tom to turn the wireless on. Under the cover of the background noise, she explained what she wanted, and Tom looked excited.
‘Finally, something of real use I can help you with,’ he said.
‘Thank you, Tom. It’s better if I don’t share the contents with you for obvious reasons, but if you can pull it off, you will be doing something that London will thank you for. And when I’m back there, I’ll make sure you get suitable credit.’
Tom brushed the offer aside with a proud smile. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I’m not in this for the credit. I’m in it to beat those Nazi bastards and get our future back.’
Lizzie settled at the desk and prepared herself to work on the pile of encrypted messages Tom had prepared.
She locked the door behind him after giving him explicit instructions.
It was good he was so keen to help because she couldn’t do it alone.
She’d even considered leaving a message for Hildegard but had decided that wasn’t a sensible move.
After Hildegard’s commitment during the Berlin mission, Lizzie trusted her implicitly, but she couldn’t jeopardise her cover.
It was likely she would be in Berlin now, anyway.
Lizzie finished the pile of messages, but Tom had not returned yet. She calculated it was no cause for concern, and she must be patient. It would take him time to get there and back, particularly as he would employ various spycraft ruses to throw off potential shadows.
Alone in the secure cipher room with access to Tom’s radio, it occurred to her that this was the perfect opportunity to message London. Retrieving her poem codebook from where Tom kept it for her, she fired off a message to Jack.
It would reach him via courier, and she pictured him at Bletchley Park, immersed in the secret world of clever codebreakers.
She was pleased he was busy because losing his brother Henry had been a terrible blow from which he hadn’t recovered.
The thought of him stewing in his grief alone made her sad, and she hoped he was staying upbeat.
But how could one ever recover from such a loss?
It was for the best that he was doing what he loved most—solving intelligence conundrums and doing all he could to save the world from further Nazi tyranny. Just as she finished messaging, Tom’s coded knock on the door rang out and she rushed to open it.