"I promise."
She stepped forward and kissed him on the mouth very briefly before turning and running across the sand. Neumann shook his head; then he turned in the opposite direction and ran back down the beach.
29
LONDON
Alfred Vicary felt he was sinking in quicksand. The more he struggled, the deeper he descended. Each time he unearthed a new clue or lead he seemed to fall further behind. He was beginning to doubt his chances of ever catching the spies.
The source of his despair was a pair of decoded German messages that had arrived from Bletchley Park that morning. The first message was from a German agent in Britain asking Berlin to begin making regular pickups. The second was from Hamburg to a German agent in Britain asking the agent to do just that. It was a disaster. The German operation--whatever it might be--appeared to be succeeding. If the agent had requested a courier, it was logical the agent had stolen something. Vicary was struck by the fear that if he ever did catch up with the spies he might be too late.
The red light shone over Boothby's door. Vicary pressed the buzzer and waited. A minute passed and the light still was red. So like Boothby to demand an urgent meeting, then keep his victim waiting.
Why haven't you told us this before?
But I have, Alfred, old man. . . . I told Boothby.
Vicary pressed the buzzer again. Was it really possible Boothby had known of the existence of the Vogel network and kept it from him? It made absolutely no sense. Vicary could think of only one possible explanation. Boothby had vehemently opposed Vicary's being assigned to the case and had made that clear from the outset. But would Boothby's opposition include actively trying to sabotage Vicary's efforts? Quite possible. If Vicary could display no momentum in solving the case, Boothby might have grounds to sack him and give the case to someone else, someone he trusted--a career officer, perhaps, not one of the new recruits that Boothby so detested.
The light finally shone green. Vicary, slipping through the grand double doors, vowed not to leave again without first clearing the air.
Boothby was seated behind his desk. "Let's have it, Alfred."
Vicary briefed Boothby on the content of the two messages and his theory about what they meant. Boothby listened, fidgeting and squirming in his chair.
"For God's sake!" he snapped. "The news gets worse every day with this case."
Vicary thought, Another sparkling contribution, Sir Basil.
"We've made some progress on piecing together background on the female agent. Karl Becker identified her as Anna von Steiner. She was born in Guy's Hospital in London on Christmas Day 1910. Her father was Peter von Steiner, a diplomat and a wealthy West Prussian aristocrat. Her mother was an Englishwoman named Daphne Harrison. The family remained in London until war broke out, then moved to Germany. Because of Steiner's position, Daphne Harrison was not interned during the war, as many British citizens were. She died of tuberculosis in 1918 at the Steiner estate in West Prussia. After the war Steiner and his daughter drifted from posting to posting, including another brief stint in London in the early twenties. Steiner also worked in Rome and in Washington."
"Sounds like he was a spy to me," Boothby said. "But go on, Alfred."
"In 1937, Anna Steiner vanished. We can only speculate after that. She undergoes Abwehr training, is sent to the Netherlands to establish a false identity as Christa Kunst, then enters England. By the way, Anna Steiner was allegedly killed in an auto accident outside Berlin in March 1938. Obviously, Vogel fabricated that."
Boothby rose and paced his office. "It's all very interesting, Alfred, but there's one fatal flaw. It's based on information given to you by Karl Becker. Becker would say anything to ingratiate himself."
"Becker has no reason to lie to us about this, Sir Basil. And his story is perfectly consistent with the few things we know for certain."
"All I'm saying, Alfred, is that I very much doubt the veracity of anything the man says."
"So why did you spend so much time with him last October?" Vicary said.
Sir Basil was standing in the window, looking down at the last light slipping out of the square. His head snapped around before he regained his composure and turned slowly to face Vicary.
"The reason I spoke to Becker is none of your affair."
"Becker is my agent," Vicary said, anger creeping into his voice. "I arrested him, I turned him, I run him. He gave you information that might have proved useful to this case, yet you kept that information from me. I'd like to know why."
Boothby was very calm now. "Becker told me the same story he told you: special agents, a secret camp in Bavaria, special codes and rendezvous procedures. And to be honest with you, Alfred, I didn't believe him at the time. We had no other evidence to support his story. Now we do."
It was a perfectly logical explanation--on the surface, at least.
"Why didn't you tell me about it?"