Despite his limp and the loss of his left arm, Eaton had become adept at driving. Hand signals were impossible, but the gear shift could now be operated with a flick of the thumb, without removing his right hand from the steering wheel.
Latchmere House, known to the Secret Intelligence Service as Camp 020, was a rather forbidding Victorian building of thirty rooms, now converted into cells and interview rooms at Ham Common, Richmond, ten miles from Eaton’s Chelsea house.
Surrounded by barbed wire and heavily guarded, its purpose was not known to the public. This was where suspected enemy agents were brought by MI5 for questioning by a team of hardened interrogators led by the austere figure of Lieutenant-Colonel Robin Stephens, known as ‘Tin-Eye’ because of the metal-rimmed monocle that had taken up permanent residence in his right eye.
On the way, Wilde and Eaton discussed the Evening Standard story about the murders in Sevenoaks.
‘I know it’s a long shot, but if the killer is the man I met, it means our would-be assassin is English,’ Wilde said. ‘How do you find one Englishman among millions?’
‘We’ll get a good description off you, and the car you saw – and put out an alert to all police forces and home guards.’
‘I can’t provide a proper description of him. It was dark, no street lights or house lights. I got a sense of him, that’s all. But he knows what I look like because he has my picture. Worse, he has a photo of Lydia.’
‘But she’s safe.’
Yes, she was safe – so long as she stayed indoors – at least until his return.
‘Perhaps we should talk to the Youngs’ maidservant?’ Wilde suggested.
‘Let’s see what our Kapitänleutnant says first.’
‘By the way, what are you going to do with Sunny? For all that I profoundly disagree with her motivation, she did risk her life helping us get Klara out of Germany.’
‘After what you did, I’m afraid that Frau Somerfeld’s present whereabouts and ultimate destination are considered none of your business, Wilde. Anyway, enough of that. We’re here.’
An armed guard stopped the car at the gate of the compound and looked at Eaton’s papers before waving him through. He parked on the tarmac at the side of the mansion, along with various other civilian and military vehicles.
At the main door, an army sergeant told Wilde that Lieutenant-Colonel Stephens was not on the premises, but that he could be reached by telephone. Eaton called him.
‘What have you got from the E-boat captain, Stephens?’
‘Flettner? Nothing as yet. He’s in solitary and hasn’t been interrogated. Not sure why he was brought to us, but if he’s got anything to say, solitary will soften him up. Normally our next stop would be to put him in with one or two others and listen in through bugs. After a while in solitary, they sometimes can’t stop talking when they meet up with a countryman. In his case, if nothing comes of it, we’ll just ship him off to a PoW camp. No real cause for the gallows as far as I can see.’
‘Can I talk to him?’
‘Feel free, Eaton. House rules, though. No Gestapo stuff. But barking at them is not only permissible but de rigueur. Only thing they seem to understand for some reason. Probably used to being shouted at by Hitler’s chaps.’
‘Thanks, old boy.’
‘Leave a note to let me know how you get on.’
Eaton and Wilde were directed to a cell on the second floor and a guard unlocked the door.
Flettner looked remarkably relaxed considering he had lost his ship and was now in solitary confinement. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, but instantly rose and clicked his heels with a respectful bow of his head as Wilde and Eaton entered the room. No Hitler salute, Wilde noted.
Eaton waded straight in without introducing himself, addressing the man in German, his normally refined voice louder and rougher than Wilde had ever heard it. Not quite a parade ground drill-sergeant, but heading in that direction.
‘You brought a plain-clothes agent into Britain by stealth. You have been engaged in espionage, Herr Kapitänleutnant.’
‘I was obeying orders, sir.’
‘That’s no defence in British law.’
‘But I was on active service. If there was a plan to bring ashore a spy, a U-boat would have been used, would it not?’
‘Clearly not in this case. As for you being on naval duty, that doesn’t look like a Kriegsmarine captain’s uniform to me.’
He nodded at Flettner’s casual clothes. Flettner, unshaven and tousled, looked down at his thick blue pullover and civilian trousers and boots.
‘That’s because I was soaking and coated in oil. When I was brought to land I was given these clothes, for which I was grateful.’
‘I don’t believe you. You’re part of a spy ring.’
‘I deny that, sir.’
‘Denial will not save your neck.’
‘Can I ask who you are, sir? And where I am? I have been here two days and no one has said a word to me.’
Eaton waved a hand dismissively. ‘We will answer your questions when you start to answer ours. The man you brought ashore, we know his name. We know he is engaged on a mission of assassination.’
‘I know nothing of that, sir.’
‘His name is Young – Charles Young.’
Wilde saw that this information had an effect. Flettner was a disciplined officer, but he rocked back on his feet.
‘I know nothing of this, sir.’
‘God damn you, Flettner. There is a firing squad waiting for you if we don’t find this man. He’s already killed two people and now he has plans to kill a child. What do you know about this?’
Flettner looked troubled.
‘Did you say he intends to kill a child?’
‘We have certain knowledge that he has a mission to kill a ten-year-old girl. How does the heroic Kriegsmarine officer feel about that? Perhaps you knew all along?’
Eaton’s aggressive questioning seemed to be having an effect. Wilde decided to let him get on with it for the time being.
‘Well?’ Eaton almost shouted the word.
‘I know nothing of this. I was merely commanding my vessel. You would expect the same of your own naval officers.’
‘No, Herr Kapitänleutnant, I would not expect the Royal Navy to land a man in Germany with orders to kill a child.’
‘But I swear I know nothing of this.’
‘Not true. We have established that you were responsible for landing Charles Young on British territory. Now I need more. What weapons does he have? Who is his contact in Britain? He must have at least one. He must also have access to a wireless for sending messages to Berlin. And an escape route must have been planned for when he has finished his foul task. Was that also your job – to pick him up? I need details, Flettner – and I need them fast. An innocent child’s life is at stake.’
Flettner was silent for a few moments. Wilde could see him weighing up his options. At last he stiffened.
‘I think I have said more than enough, gentlemen. I am a German officer. You can have my name and rank and nothing more. If you wish to shoot me, so be it, but I will not dishonour my service.’
He clicked his heels again and pulled his shoulders back.
Eaton took a step forward. ‘You’re a damned fool, Flettner. You’re working for a bunch of slimy, child-murdering criminals and you’re talking about honour! There is no honour in the Nazis or their methods – and I suspect you know it.’
The German’s genial expression had long since disappeared. His mouth was gripped so tightly shut that Wilde wondered whether it were possible for the man to crack his teeth. Wilde was tempted to hit him, but Eaton saw the look in the American’s eyes and shook his head.
‘Leave him, Wilde. Let Tin-Eye’s boys have a go at him. Come on, we’re going to get nothing more here without cutting his balls off.’ He knocked twice at the door and it was opened by the guard. He threw one last look at Flettner. ‘You’re brave enough, Herr Kapitänleutnant. I’ll give you that much.’
‘I will pray for the child,’ he said.
Eaton snorted in derision. ‘And a fat lot of good that will do. I’ll send you a picture of her murdered body when your man has done his worst.’
*
Lydia entered the children’s room.
‘Come on, Klara, put your book down. It’s bedtime. Johnny’s asleep.’
‘Where is Tom? Is he coming back?’
‘Oh yes, he’s coming back. He just has a few things to sort out. I expect you’ll see him in the morning.’ Lydia handed the girl a toothbrush and a tin of tooth powder and directed her towards the bathroom. ‘I know it’s cold in there, but you’ll soon warm up in bed.’ She held up a hot water bottle. ‘And look what I found for you.’
‘Oh, I love those. Thank you.’
Lydia almost felt like weeping. The child looked worn out and listless.
‘Come on, little liebling, give me another hug.’
They held each other for a long time as Klara sobbed against Lydia’s shoulder. She had wanted to ask Klara more about her parents, how much she knew, but perhaps that would be better left to another day. If there was another day.
‘I don’t feel very well, Frau Wilde,’ Klara said, looking up, her eyes red.
Lydia stroked her brow. ‘You’ve had a lot to put up with. Come on, bed. Sleep is the best thing.’
*
‘What do you think, Wilde?’ Eaton asked.
They were sitting in his car outside Latchmere House with the engine switched off.
‘I think he told us everything he knows. From his reaction to the name, I think we can safely say Mr Young was on that boat. But Bormann wouldn’t have wanted anyone but Young to know the details of the mission.’
‘I agree. I almost felt sorry for Herr Kapitänleutnant Flettner. He was shocked rigid when he heard what his passenger is up to. I could see he believed us and he feels disgraced.’
‘Do you really think Young has a contact here in England? And access to a wireless?’
‘Almost certainly.’
‘What will happen to Flettner?’
‘PoW camp, Isle of Man. Probably better food than our boys are getting over in Germany. Certainly better than the poor damned Russians are getting.’
Wilde grinned. ‘You always did have a soft spot for the Reds, didn’t you?’
‘Give it a rest, Wilde. Do you want to go to see this unfortunate young woman in Sevenoaks?’
Wilde wanted to get back to Lydia and the children, but he was still interested in the events at Sevenoaks.
‘It is damned odd that he should take the time to go to Kent to kill his family. Why the hell would he do that?’
‘They say most murders are family affairs.’
‘You’ll get Special Branch on to the case?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Then I’ll leave it to them.’
In his heart he doubted there was much to be learned from the maid. He was more worried about Cashbone and Sunny. He couldn’t believe they were just sitting on their hands waiting for something to happen. There was something else, too.
‘Eaton,’ he said, ‘could I put a name to you? Anton Offenbach? He was my shadow in Germany, also involved with Sunny Somerfeld. Dead now, as Sunny may have told you. I couldn’t work out for the life of me who he really was.’
‘Offenbach? I’ll look into it,’ Eaton replied casually.
Wilde knew Eaton well enough to realise that the name definitely did mean something to him.
‘Meanwhile, I think you should come back with me and finish off that bottle, old boy. Have a kip in my spare room and weigh up your options. Come morning, you might see my point of view.’
Wilde nodded slowly. The offer sounded a fair option, for he needed sleep, badly. But it wouldn’t change his mind. He had to get back to Cambridge.
Eaton had thoughts of his own.
‘Look, Wilde, I know you’re not going to tell me where Lydia’s hiding with the German girl, but answer me this – was there anything in your own house to connect you to the hideout?’
Was there? It was a worrying notion, but for the life of him he couldn’t think what it might be. But then he was also aware that he was too tired to be thinking as lucidly as he might.
Soon they were back in Chelsea, a couple of streets from Eaton’s home.
‘Drop me off here,’ Wilde said.
‘I thought you were coming in.’
‘No. For all I know you have a welcoming party.’
‘Oh, to hell with you, Wilde.’ He braked hard. ‘It’s quite bloody obvious that you’re holed up in Cambridge itself. We will find you, you know.’
Wilde opened the door and stepped out.
‘Good night, Eaton.’