Jackdaws

"I'm rotting away in the English countryside while my brother's conquering Italy."

"How is William?"

"He's all right, he's part of the war effort, but no one will give me a proper job."

"I might be able to help you there."

"You're in the FANYs." Diana drew on her cigarette and blew out smoke. "Darling, I can't be a chauffeuse."

Flick nodded. Diana was too grand to do the menial war work that most women were offered. "Well, I'm here to propose something more interesting."

"What?"

"You might not like it. It's very difficult, and dangerous~" Diana looked skeptical. "What does it involve, driving in the blackout?"

"I can't tell you much about it, because it's secret."

"Flick, darling, don't tell me you're involved in cloak and-dagger stuff."

"I didn't get promoted to major by driving generals to meetings."

Diana looked hard at her. "Do you mean this?"

"Absolutely."

"Good Lord." Against her will, Diana was impressed.

Flick had to get her positive agreement to volunteer. "So-are you willing to do something very dangerous? I mean it, you really are quite likely to get killed."

Diana looked excited rather than discouraged. "Of course I'm willing. William's risking his life, why shouldn't I?"

"You mean it?"

"I'm very serious~"

Flick concealed her relief She had recruited her first team member.

Diana was so keen that Flick decided to press her advantage. "There's a condition, and you may find it worse than the danger."

"What?"

"You're two years older than I, and all our lives you've been my social superior. You're the baron's daughter, and I'm the housekeeper's brat. Nothing wrong with that, and I'm not complaining. Ma would say that's how it should be."

"Yes, dear, so what's your point?"

"I'm in charge of the operation. You'll have to defer to me."

Diana shrugged. "That's fine."

"It will be a problem," Flick insisted. "You'll find it strange. But I'll be hard on you until you get used to it. This is a warning."

"Yes, sir!"

"We don't bother too much about the formalities in my department, so you won't need to call me sir, or ma'am. But we do enforce military discipline, especially once an operation has begun. If you forget that, my anger will be the least of your worries. Disobeying orders can get you killed in my line of work."

"Darling, how dramatic! But of course I understand."

Flick was not at all sure Diana did understand, but she had done her best. She took a scratch pad from her blouse and wrote down an address in Hampshire. "Pack a case for three days. This is where you need to go. You get the train from Waterloo to Brockenhurst."

Diana looked at the address. "Why, this is Lord Montague's estate."

"Most of it is occupied by my department now."

"What is your department?"

"The Inter Services Research Bureau," Flick said, using the usual cover name.

"I trust it's more exciting than it sounds."

"You can bet on that."

"When do I start?"

"You need to get there today." Flick got to her feet. "Your training starts at dawn tomorrow."

"I'll come back to the house with you and start packing." Diana stood up. "Tell me something?"

"If I can."

Diana fiddled with her shotgun, seeming embarrassed. When she looked at Flick, her face showed an expression of frankness for the first time. "Why me?" she said. "You must know I've been turned down by everyone."

Flick nodded. "I'll be blunt." She looked at the bloodstained rabbit corpses on the ground, then lifted her gaze to Diana's pretty face. "You're a killer," she said. "And that's what I need."

CHAPTER 12

DIETER SLEPT UNTIL ten. He woke with a headache from the morphine, but otherwise he felt good: excited, optimistic, confident. Yesterday's bloody interrogation had given him a hot lead. The woman codenamed Bourgeolse, with her house in the rue du Bois, could be his way into the heart of the French Resistance.

Or it might go nowhere.

He drank a liter of water and took three aspirins to get rid of the morphine hangover; then he picked up the phone.

First he called Lieutenant Hesse, who was staying in a less grand room at the same hotel. "Good morning, Hans, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you, Major. Sir, I went to the town hall to check out the address in the rue du Bois."

"Good lad," Dieter said. "What did you find out?"

"The house is owned and occupied by one person, a Mademoiselle Jeanne Lemas."

"But there may be other people staying there."

"I also drove past, just to have a look, and the place seemed quiet."

"Be ready to leave, with my car, in an hour."

"Very good."

"And, Hans-well done for using your initiative."

"Thank you, sir."

Dieter hung up. He wondered what Mademoiselle Lemas was like. Gaston said no one in the Bollinger circuit had ever met her, and Dieter believed him: the house was a security cut-out. Incoming agents knew nothing more than where to contact the woman: if caught, they could not reveal any information about the Resistance. At least, that was the theory. There was no such thing as perfect security.