Chapter 16
Lizzie was in a phase she recognised well.
At the start of every mission in a new city, she found herself overwhelmed by the task that lay ahead of her and didn’t know how to get things going.
In Berlin, she had no local contacts, apart from her source at the Air Ministry, who already had the challenge of her life extracting intelligence to pass to Hannah.
Ingrid Becker hadn’t yet provided them with anything tangible, and it might take some time.
Meanwhile, Hannah’s operation was underway, and she went to the office every day, cast in her new role of dutiful German war widow, loyal to the Nazi regime.
In the evenings, she shared whispered secrets with Lizzie in the attic, divulging what she learnt from the letters she typed for the German military elite, and from staff conversations in the shadowy hallways of Luftwaffe HQ.
Impatience clawed at Lizzie as she tussled with various ways she could get started with the next part of her mission.
What she had to do was clear: set up a courier route from Berlin to Switzerland to smuggle intelligence out.
The route would serve as a key piece of the foundation of a new network for X Section to develop after she returned to London.
It was a mammoth undertaking, and how she would do it was anything but clear.
As usual, the SOE gave her an impossible task but no solution.
She’d talked it through with Val and Jack frequently, sensing how daunting the mission would be even from the safety of Baker Street.
Val said they had so little updated information about German logistics and no established network in Berlin, it was the reason she and Hannah were going in, and they must operate blind.
Lizzie broached the subject with Jack one evening at the flat after dinner.
He pulled a mournful face, but said much the same.
‘I don’t even have a safe house for you.
I had a few German friends I studied with at Oxford, but I wouldn’t risk trusting them now, obviously.
When I think back to those days, it was like another world. ’
They discussed the possibilities and agreed Berlin to Switzerland seemed the most viable courier route.
When Lizzie lay in Jack’s arms in bed early the following morning, he said, ‘I wish I could come with you, darling. Creating a courier route from Berlin is a hell of a thing. Every time I think we can’t send you on a more dangerous mission, Val whips one out of her bag of tricks. ’
He pulled himself up against the pillow and lit a cigarette. Except for a brief dabble in the art of smoking, Lizzie didn’t smoke unless it served her cover, but she enjoyed watching him.
Jack exhaled and blew the smoke upwards, and they watched it circle lazily in the air towards the white ceiling. ‘Your best shot is to recruit a business owner or key employee so they can use their business with Switzerland as a cover. I’m sorry, but that’s all I’ve got.’
‘No, that’s good. Really helpful,’ Lizzie said, leaning over to kiss him before springing up from the bed and dressing for work. They didn’t speak of it again.
Now Lizzie was faced with finding a suitable contact to recruit in Berlin, where she knew no one to speak to except for the landlady.
Hannah had already left for the ministry, always careful not to miss her train.
Punctuality was critical, and she made sure to arrive in good time every morning, like the keen ethnic German returning to the bosom of Germany she was supposed to be.
When Lizzie’s mind turned to the landlady, a thought occurred to her.
If she didn’t know anyone else, she must start where she could.
Perhaps Frau Fischer had some interesting contacts.
Lizzie scoured the boarding house copy of the daily newspaper, looking for relevant headlines, as she had done since their arrival.
She sipped her coffee slowly as the lodgers exited the dining room, one by one, to leave for work.
Herr Vogel’s eyes were on her again as he neared her table, and she raised her head and greeted him with a cheerful good morning.
He seemed taken aback, but wished her the same and then hurried out the door.
She concluded he must prefer watching her than engaging with her properly when given the chance.
Frau Fischer was quite chatty, and when the dining room emptied, she offered Lizzie another cup of coffee. ‘I can’t afford to give everyone double servings, but as you are still here, would you like a top-up?’
Lizzie thanked her. ‘That’s very kind of you. If you have time, please join me. It gets lonely with my sister-in-law out at work all day.’
Frau Fischer brought herself a cup of coffee and sat in Hannah’s vacated chair. ‘I don’t mind if I do. It’s a rare moment I get to sit down until after dinner, what with so much to do.’
‘It must be hard work running this place,’ Lizzie said, her tone sympathetic.
Frau Fischer launched into a story about just how hard it was to run the boarding house and raise a child alone. She said when she married her dear husband, she had never thought this would be her life.
Lizzie’s heart stirred for the landlady’s lost years with her husband.
So many planned futures had been destroyed by the war, and she saw it didn’t matter which side you were on when it concerned ordinary people’s lives.
They were all buffeted on the winds of war, and Lizzie felt sorry for the widow.
‘Losing our husbands so young is a terrible thing,’ Lizzie said.
Her cover was proving more useful in this situation than she could have imagined.
That was the unpredictable nature of undercover work.
You never knew who you would meet and who would play a role in your new life until you were in it.
It was serendipitous that she and Hannah were boarding with another widow, although there must be many widows by now.
‘It is indeed,’ the woman said, sipping her coffee. ‘And for you two young women, how tragic. At least I have my daughter to keep me company.’
Lizzie’s acting skills had developed impressively since she joined the SOE.
The pity she felt for the landlady was real, but she had to draw on it to be convincing in her role as a young, heartbroken widow.
What would it be like to lose her husband in her early twenties and not even have a child to remember him by?
She refused to entertain such a possibility for her life with Jack.
Lizzie thought of Hannah. The Resistance operative found herself in a situation not unlike their fake one, and the way she was dealing with it was remarkable but unsurprisingly, stoic.
Lizzie mentioned Henry occasionally, encouraging her to talk about him, but Hannah always changed the subject. Lizzie was worried her friend might break down after so much loss, and she watched her carefully when they were together, but she seemed as strong-willed as ever.
After more sensitive talk about the difficulties of being a widow, Lizzie steered Frau Fischer to what she really wanted to ask.
‘I desperately need some items such as stockings. I saw an article in the newspaper just now mentioning that Switzerland is a legitimate source of goods. Do you know anyone who might connect me with a supplier?’
It was the article in the newspaper that triggered her idea. It commended Berliners for their sacrifice but warned them that paying black market prices was economic sabotage and that they must support the official systems.
Frau Fischer’s lips twitched at Lizzie’s question, and she hesitated.
Lizzie lowered her voice. ‘Please don’t misunderstand me. I only meant to ask if you have a legitimate contact who has the proper permits to sell Swiss goods. A little luxury goes a long way in these difficult times.’
Frau Fischer’s expression softened, and she visibly relaxed as she leant back in her chair and sipped her cooling coffee.
‘Very true. Yes, I know of someone. There’s no point queuing at the stores for this kind of thing.
And German stockings get laddered in the blink of an eye.
’ It was the landlady’s turn to lower her voice.
‘If you want Swiss silk, it will cost you, but I have a friend who might get you some.’ She stood and took their empty cups to the kitchen, and Lizzie waited, hoping she hadn’t crossed a line so early in their acquaintance.
Her entire mission depended on the relationships she could build.
Without them, it wouldn’t matter what courier route she selected—trustworthy contacts were always the key to successful missions.
Frau Fischer returned to wipe the surface of the table and turned to Lizzie. ‘I’ll ask her for you. I’m seeing her today, so I’ll let you know what she says.’
The sudden breakthrough exhilarated Lizzie but reminded her she couldn’t stop there.
The lead would likely go nowhere, so she must keep casting lines into the water at every opportunity.
What made espionage so difficult was that she had to create the opportunities, not just wait for them to come her way.
If she did that, she might be stranded in Berlin for years.
She turned over other possibilities in her mind as she thanked Frau Fischer again and went upstairs to the attic.
It had taken her a week of scouring the daily newspaper to find a relevant article about Swiss imports.
Beginning a mission was like watching treacle slide down a spoon, and Lizzie’s patience wore thin when she wasn’t in action.
That’s when insidious thoughts set in, and she doubted her ability to pull off such a bold endeavour right under Hitler’s nose.
The thought that the devil himself resided in Berlin was almost too much to bear.
When she first learnt, she would be based in the city where the monster who started this horror story spent much of his time, it occurred to her she and Hannah could kill him.
Wouldn’t that be the ultimate shortcut to winning the war? She had asked Jack probing questions about what he knew of Hitler’s movements, but knowing her as he did, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together.
He studied her face. ‘Seagrove, don’t be tempted into doing anything foolhardy.
Your mission is to extract intelligence via a courier route for X Section and, if possible, form a network.
Wipe the temptation from your mind. As seductive as it is to try to assassinate Hitler, he is probably the most closely guarded man in the world right now.
That’s an order. I’m still your commanding officer, you know. ’
Lizzie smiled at the memory. She had better not mention her temptation to Hannah because she wouldn’t hesitate to follow through.
Lizzie would be surprised if it hadn’t crossed her mind too.
But Jack was right; it would be a suicide mission, so she pushed it firmly from her thoughts and sat on the bed, contemplating what to do for the rest of the day.
She hadn’t lied to Frau Fischer about being lonely.
The days stretched out before her in this enemy city after Hannah left for work.
She missed Jack, and she missed her family.
Lizzie sighed and thought of Herr Vogel, who would also have left for work by now.
One morning she had seen him putting his coat on and holding a briefcase, so he was obviously some kind of official.
She’d noted when he left each morning and saw he was a precise creature and always went out at the same time.
With that thought, she crossed the room, closed the attic door behind her, and padded down the stairs towards Herr Vogel’s room.
If there was one thing she’d learnt during her work with the SOE, it was to leave no stone unturned.
It was likely he was merely a low-level official who got his kicks by watching young women.
Either way, it was time to find out if there was nothing more dangerous to his presence in the boarding house.
Lizzie put her ear to the door and listened and was met only with silence.
She turned the brass lever, but the door didn’t open, so she slid her special multipurpose pick, courtesy of the SOE, into the lock.
After several deft moves, the lock clicked open, and Lizzie breathed a sigh of satisfaction.
She had become very proficient at lock picking, and the skill often proved invaluable.
Lizzie paused on the landing, listening for any movement from Frau Fischer below, but all was quiet, so she pushed the door gently until it swung open, and she entered Herr Vogel’s sanctuary, her footsteps light but her heart pounding as she closed the door behind her.
Looking around, she saw immediately how neat and tidy he was.
The bedspread was pristine, and the room was immaculate, as if he barely occupied it.
At first glance, she’d guess he was a former military man.
Lizzie searched the room meticulously, clicking drawers and cupboards open, studying the contents.
She checked beneath the mattress and looked at his clothes hanging in the wardrobe.
He was a man of few words and few belongings.
After a rigorous search of the room, she found nothing of interest and was just about to let herself out when she heard footsteps on the landing and froze.
The footsteps grew closer, and there was a creak in the corridor outside.
Lizzie's senses screamed. If she wasn’t prepared for such scenarios, she would have panicked, but her experience and training kicked in instantly, and she slid behind the green floor-length drapes and stood as still as a statue, not even breathing.
As the door creaked open, she glimpsed Frau Fischer in the doorway, gazing around the room.
Lizzie still held her breath, and the blood rushed to her head as she stood fixed in her spot.
After a minute, the landlady appeared satisfied and retreated; the door closing behind her.
Lizzie inhaled and released a long breath, relief rushing through her body. Thank God, it was an automatic latch. Herr Vogle wasn’t the careless type, and the landlady would have seen immediately if the door was left unlocked, and she may even have mentioned it to him later.
It was a close call, and Lizzie waited a few minutes before slipping out of the room as silently as a cat.
She was back in action, and as the beat of her thumping heart regulated, the adrenaline surged through her, and she knew she was ready for anything.
Spying was much like riding a bicycle. It came naturally once she started pedalling.