Thesiger caught Stilton the next day, just as he was leaving Scotland Yard. Hat and coat on, out of the door and halfway down the corridor when a constable called him back to the telephone.
‘Do you still want a chance to use your German?’ Thesiger asked.
‘’Fraid not. But there’s an American who needs your services. He’s been brought in from somewhere or other, based at the embassy, and I gather they’ve given him a room at Claridge’s. Name of Cormack. First name Calvin. A captain.’
‘An American. I don’t. . .’
‘I can’t tell you any more. In fact it isn’t my show. It isn’t even Five. You’ll report to Colonel Ruthven-Greene at Six. You’d better get in touch with him straight away. Trust me. It’s big. Bigger than anything you’ve done for me. It matters. And you’ll be on the trail of a real live Jerry of your own.’
‘A Jerry?’
‘Yes, a wild card. A loose cannon, from what I can gather. Now, about our Dutchman, Smulders.’
‘He’s been up West a couple of times. Once to a printing house in Covent Garden. Didn’t get the job.’
Stilton stopped. He’d said a word too much already. He hoped Thesiger would just accept it all at face value and ring off. Thesiger was not the sort of man to let a casual remark have a casual escape.
‘A couple of times, you said?’
‘One or two, aye.’
‘You lost him. Is that what you’re saying?’
It had been one of Stilton’s constables, but it was a pathetic Chief Inspector who blamed his men. He’d bollocked the constable. If Thesiger now wanted to bollock him he’d just have to take it.
‘Last night, as it happens. Just north of Oxford Street, close by the Marquis of Lincoln. Pitch dark in the blackout. Couldn’t be helped. He was home before midnight. No harm done.’
‘Walter, I don’t want to make obstacles for you, but if you take on the American are you sure you can still handle Smulders?’
When Thesiger called him Walter it was usually a preface to him being put on a spot.
‘It won’t happen again, sir. We’ll be watching him day and night.’