"I didn't want another lecture about need to know."
Boothby chuckled and said, "Very good. You're learning. You don't need to know this, but since it's your brilliant idea I'm going to tell you. The Twenty Committee wants to convince them that Mulberry is actually an offshore antiaircraft complex bound for Calais. The Phoenix units already have crew quarters and antiaircraft guns, so it's a rather neat fit. They've just altered the drawings a bit."
"Perfect," Vicary said.
"They have some other schemes in mind to help sell the deception through other channels. You'll be briefed on those as necessary."
"I understand, Sir Basil."
They sat in silence for a time, each studying his own private spot on the paneled walls.
"It's your call, Alfred," Boothby said. "You control this part of the operation. Whatever you recommend, I'll back you up on it."
Vicary thought, Why do I feel as though I'm being measured for the drop? He did not take comfort from Boothby's offer of support. The first sign of trouble and Boothby would be diving for the nearest foxhole. The easiest thing to do would be to arrest Catherine Blake and do it Boothby's way--try to turn her and force her to cooperate with them. Vicary remained convinced it would not work, that the only way to funnel the Double Cross material directly through her was to do it without her knowledge.
"I remember a time when men didn't have to make decisions like this," Boothby said wistfully. "If we make the wrong one, we could very well lose the war."
"Thank you for reminding me," Vicary said. "You don't have a crystal ball behind that desk, do you, Sir Basil?"
"I'm afraid not."
"How about a coin?"
"Alfred!"
"A poor attempt at levity, Sir Basil."
Boothby was tapping on the attache again. "What's your decision, Alfred?"
"I say we let her run."
Boothby said, "I hope to God you're right. Give me your right arm."
Vicary stuck out his arm. Boothby shackled the attache case to his wrist.
Half an hour later Grace Clarendon was standing in Northumberland Avenue, stomping her feet against the pavement for warmth as she watched the evening traffic rushing past. Finally, she spotted Boothby's large black Humber when the driver winked the shaded headlamps. The car pulled over. Boothby threw open the back door and Grace climbed inside.
Grace shivered. "Bloody cold outside! You were supposed to meet me fifteen minutes ago. I don't know why we can't just do this in your office."
"Too many watchful eyes, Grace. Too much at stake." She stuck a cigarette into her mouth and lit it. Boothby closed the glass partition.
"Now, what do you have for me?"
"Vicary wants me to run a couple of names through Registry for him."
"Why doesn't he come to me for a chit?"
"I suppose he thinks you won't give it to him."
"What are the names?"
"Peter Jordan and Walker Hardegen."
"Clever bastard," Boothby murmured. "Anything else?"
"Yes. He wanted me to run a trace on the word Broome."
"How broad?"
"Names of our own personnel. Code names of agents, German and British. Operational code names, existing or closed."
"For Christ's sake," Boothby said. He turned and watched the traffic. "Did Vicary come to you directly, or did he make the request through Dalton?"
"Harry did it."
"When?"
"Last night."
Boothby turned and smiled at her. "Grace, have you been a naughty girl again?"
She didn't respond, just said, "What do you want me to tell him?"
"Tell him you searched for the names of Jordan and Hardegen in every index you could think of and found nothing. The same for Broome. Understood, Grace?"
She nodded.
Boothby said, "Don't look so glum. You're making an invaluable contribution to your nation's defense."
She turned at him, narrowing her green eyes in anger. "I'm deceiving someone I care about very much. And I don't like it."
"It will all be over soon. When it is I'll treat you to a nice dinner out, just like the old days."
She pulled the door latch, a little too forcefully, and put a foot out the door. "I'll let you take me to an expensive dinner, Basil. But that's all. The old days are definitely over."
She got out, slammed the door, and watched Boothby's car vanish into the dark.
Vicary waited upstairs in the library. The girls brought him the updates, one by one.
2115 hrs: The static post at Earl's Court spots Catherine Blake leaving her flat. Photographs to follow.
2117 hrs: Catherine Blake walks north toward Cromwell Road. One watcher trailing on foot. Surveillance van following.
2120 hrs: Catherine Blake catches a taxi and heads east. Surveillance van collects watcher on foot and tails the taxi.
2135 hrs: Catherine Blake arrives Marble Arch and leaves taxi. New watcher leaves the surveillance van and follows on foot.
2140 hrs: Catherine Blake catches another taxi in Oxford Street. Surveillance van nearly loses her. Unable to pick up watcher on foot.