The Unlikely Spy

Inches knocked gently and pushed open the bathroom door. Churchill lay in his tub, a cigar in one hand, the day's second glass of whisky resting on a small table within easy reach. Inches announced Vicary and withdrew. "Vicary, my dear man," Churchill said. He put his mouth at the waterline and blew bubbles. "How good of you to come."

 

Vicary found the warm temperature of the bathroom oppressive. He also found it hard not to laugh at the enormous pink man splashing about in his bath like a child. He removed his tweed jacket and, reluctantly, sat down on the toilet.

 

"I wanted a word with you in private--that's why I've invited you here to my lair." Churchill pursed his lips. "Vicary, I must admit from the outset that I am angry with you."

 

Vicary stiffened.

 

Churchill opened his mouth to continue, then stopped himself. A perplexed, defeated look dawned over his face.

 

"Inches!" he bellowed.

 

Inches drifted in. "Yes, Mr. Churchill?"

 

"Inches, I believe my bathwater has dropped below one hundred four degrees. Would you check the thermometer?"

 

Rolling up his sleeve, Inches retrieved the thermometer. He studied it like an archaeologist examining an ancient bone fragment. "Ah, you're right, sir. The temperature of your bath has plummeted to one hundred two degrees. Shall I warm it?"

 

"Of course."

 

Inches opened the hot water tap and let it run for a moment. Churchill smiled as his bathwater attained its proper temperature. "Much better, Inches."

 

Churchill rolled onto his side. Water cascaded over the side of the tub, soaking the leg of Vicary's trousers.

 

"You were saying, Prime Minister?"

 

"Ah, yes, I was saying, Vicary, that I was angry with you. You never told me that in your younger days you were quite good at chess. Beat all comers at Cambridge, so I'm told."

 

Vicary, thoroughly confused, said, "I apologize, Prime Minister, but the subject of chess never arose during any of our conversations."

 

"Brilliant, ruthless, gambling--that's how people have described your play to me." Churchill paused. "You also served in the Intelligence Corps in the First War."

 

"I was only in the Motorcycle Unit. I was a courier, nothing more."

 

Churchill turned his gaze from Vicary and stared at the ceiling. "In 1250 B.C. the Lord told Moses to send agents to spy out the land of Canaan. The Lord was good enough to give Moses some advice on how to recruit his spies. Only the best and the brightest men were capable of such an important task, the Lord said, and Moses took his words to heart."

 

"This is true, Prime Minister," Vicary said. "But it is also true that the intelligence gathered by the spies of Moses was poorly utilized. As a result the Israelites spent another forty years wandering the desert."

 

Churchill smiled. "I should have learned long ago never to argue with you, Alfred. You have a nimble mind. I've always admired that."

 

"What is it you want me to do?"

 

"I want you to take a job in Military Intelligence."

 

"But, Prime Minister, I'm not qualified for that sort of--"

 

"Nobody over there knows what they're doing," Churchill said, cutting Vicary off. "Especially the professional officers."

 

"But what about my students? My research?"

 

"Your students will be in the service soon, fighting for their lives. And as for your research, it can wait." Churchill paused. "Do you know John Masterman and Christopher Cheney from Oxford?"

 

"Don't tell me they've been pulled in."

 

"Indeed--and don't expect to find a mathematician worth his salt at any of the universities," Churchill said. "They've all been snatched up and bundled off to Bletchley Park."

 

"What on earth are they doing there?"

 

"Trying to crack German ciphers."

 

Vicary made a brief show of thought. "I suppose I accept."

 

"Good." Churchill thumped his fist on the side of the tub. "You're to report first thing Monday to Brigadier Sir Basil Boothby. He is the head of the division to which you will be assigned. He is also the complete English ass. He'd thwart me if he could, but he's too stupid for that. Man could fuck up a steel ball."

 

"Sounds charming."

 

"He knows you and I are friends and therefore he will oppose you. Don't allow yourself to be bullied by him. Understood?"

 

"Yes, Prime Minister."

 

"I need someone I can trust inside that department. It's time to put the intelligence back in Military Intelligence. Besides, this will be good for you, Alfred. It's time you emerged from your dusty library and rejoined the living."

 

Vicary was caught off guard by Churchill's sudden intimacy. He thought of the previous evening, of his walk home, of staring into Helen's passing car.

 

"Yes, Prime Minister, I believe it is time. Just what will I do for Military Intelligence?"

 

But Churchill had vanished below the waterline.

 

 

 

 

 

4

 

 

RASTENBURG, GERMANY: JANUARY 1944

 

 

 

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