The Secret Generations (56 page)

As well as the explosion, a young girl had been discovered in an isolated cottage. She had been strangled with a silk scarf. But, by the time the men from MI5 and the Branch reached the area,
‘The Fisherman’ was on his way back to London.

Chapter Eight

When the long dark winter ended, several events had reshaped both the future of the war, and, though they did not know it, the Railton family
’s fortune.

First, Giles Railton
’s greatest wish was granted. C’s Service, now usually spoken of as the Secret Service, was placed under the direct control of the Foreign Office. Never again would the diplomats be left in the dark as far as major intelligence was concerned.

Second,
‘The Fisherman’ was given instructions that would lead to a head-on collision with the Railton family, though there was no way he could ever have suspected it.

Hans-Helmut Ulhurt had been directed to establish a base in London, to carry out delicate work for Steinhauer who, as had so often happened in the past, was using his agent to assist the now promoted Colonel Nicolai.

‘The Fisherman’ went about his tasks with his normal professional efficiency. Then one morning he received new orders. Twice a week, at a particular hour, he walked a specially laid-down route. It was while performing this routine that an envelope was thrust into his hand by a small, rabbit-faced young man, who contrived to bump into him as he limped from the Holborn post office.

On returning to his rooms nearby, in the house of a Mrs Blacket, who imagined him to be a wounded NCO,
‘The Fisherman’ removed his code books and deciphered the message, which read:
MOST IMMEDIATE. URGENT YOU LEAVE LONDON WITHIN THE HOUR.

FIND NEW TARGET. ACT AS BEFORE.

As though sensing danger,
‘The Fisherman’ was off, like a scalded cat.

Last, but far from least, America entered the war.

Later, ‘Blinker’ Hall claimed, in a cable, ‘Alone I did it.’ Certainly his devious footwork and cunning choreography played no small part, though Room 40 had much to do with this, the saving factor of the war.

Not even Andrew, who was the Railton nearest to both Hall and Room 40, had a whiff of what was in the wind, and it was many years before the full story emerged.

It is enough to say that the code-breakers of Room 40 unbuttoned a telegram, sent by the German Foreign Minister, Arthur Zimmermann, to Count Bernstorff in Washington. The Zimmermann Telegram has since become legend, for it proposed, in effect, to assist Mexico to reconquer Texas, New Mexico and Arizona, should the United States enter the war.

‘
Blinker’ Hall’s difficulty was to make the Americans see the telegram as an authentic document. This he managed to do in a complicated manner, using many people (including his friend Ned Bell, the US diplomat who had caused Andrew much trouble) and much information gleaned in the past years; in particular the fact that the German Embassy in Washington was breaking a trust by using the United States Government Wireless Station on Long Island.

When the full shock of the telegram was laid on the pacifist President Wilson, there was no alternative.

After some flurries of cables and certain Congressmen trying to throw doubts and discredit the message, Zimmermann himself admitted its authenticity.

By the
first week of April, the United States of America was at war with Germany, though it took almost a year for the American Expeditionary Force to build up in France.

It took only three weeks for Richard Farthing
’s uncle, Colonel Bradley Farthing, to arrive at Redhill Manor.

*

On the Western Front the slaughter continued – the armies, now swollen in size, constantly heard the cry ‘The Yanks Are Coming’, but the fact that they were not yet there, fighting and assisting, except in the air, did little to hearten men who still lived, fought and died around the now familiar place names – Bapaume, Vimy Ridge, Cambrai.

Like his Chief, Caspar now found his mind drawn to new matters further east, for the cracks in the Russian Army, and their country as a whole, appeared to be widening. He became more and more conscious of the presence of his brother, Ramillies, moving in and out of C
’s inner sanctum with disturbing regularity.

He was also soon to meet another Farthing. The fact of Dick
’s uncle’s arrival in England had flashed through the bush telegraph of the Railton family. On the whole, the Railtons had begun to behave as though Sara’s husband’s family were some rare species, needing particular and close examination.

*

Charles and his team, in the meantime, had made a small amount of progress. By a fluke, they caught the scent of ‘The Fisherman’ in Holborn. A Mrs Blacket, owner of what was styled as a private hotel, had cause to report some small items of silver missing.

The local police took note of any guest who had left suddenly. One such was an ex-serviceman, who had lost a leg on the Somme. His departure had been sudden, and Mrs Blacket had not yet let his room. The locals searched and, behind a chest of drawers, discovered a notebook. It was empty but for two pages containing notes in scribbled German. Even they could make out the word
Natal
. The book was passed on to the Branch, and eventually found its way, by early summer, to Charles.

Charles appeared to be recovering from the traumas which,
with Mildred’s illness and death, had previously surrounded him. Only occasionally, Wood noticed, did he appear to be not his usual self. The detective could not know that these lapses coincided with secret orders to pass more information to ‘Brenner’.

One such request had come in the spring for all information on new types of tank, their dispersal and armament.
‘Brenner’ was unsympathetic when Charles went to him and bluntly said he saw no reason to carry on the charade. Now
he
wanted more information
from
‘Brenner’.

‘
My dear fellow, don’t you understand that this is a necessary matter? What we are doing is for the British cause. You
must
continue this fiction.’ Thus ‘Brenner’.

Now, Charles prayed there would be no more demands, for at last,
‘The Fisherman’ was in their sights.

From Mrs Blacket, they knew he had been posing as a wounded senior NCO. They even had a name
– Sergeant Major Willis. Soon, they also discovered that the man Willis had used an ex-serviceman’s pass to gain a cheap railway ticket to Scotland. ‘The Fisherman’ was getting careless, and the three-man team decided to follow the trail. What better place to look than Cromarty again?

They left London late on the after of 9 July. As their train was pulling out, news was just coming through of yet another act of sabotage. HMS
Vanguard
, a battleship, had unaccountably exploded with the loss of seven hundred lives.

*

They did not tell James about America’s entry into the war until the end of June, and then casually, as though it was a matter of little importance. He was weaker, and certainly thinner. The previous winter had taken its toll and the Commandant had appeared concerned on the two occasions that James had suffered severe bouts of bronchial trouble.

The diet was not helping, and, by January, they were reduced to the most meagre rations. Even when spring finally arrived, the food improved only slightly. To James it was an obvious sign that the block
ade of Germany was having a profound effect. The Commandant still dreamed of his cavalry charges, yet, one evening in mid-June, after an almost inedible dinner, the old man suddenly started to speak of the terrible butchery on the Western Front. James said nothing, but thought he was learning a great deal as the aging officer rambled on about the way tanks were playing havoc with the infantry, and how poison gas, bombs from the air, and the grappling struggle of trench warfare was taking the very heart of Europe’s youth.

James realized, not for the first time, that he was living in a dream. He had no idea of what battles were like, nor could he divine the true situation. Only the news that America had entered the war cheered him.

*

Colonel Bradley Farthing was the youngest of Dick
’s father’s brothers. The family likeness was uncanny – the same constantly amused expression, a similarity in build and features. Bradley was of course a family name. Dick’s second youngest brother now training with an infantry battalion in Texas was another Bradley. Colonel Farthing was, Sara thought, incredibly attractive, barely 50 years of age, and with a charm that would probably make sour milk drinkable.

He pronounced her name
‘Sar-rah’, making two long syllables and refusing to alter this quirk even after Dick pointed it out to him.

Redhill he found delightful.
‘England as I imagined it,’ he said; and Sara twinkled, telling him that she understood that France and Belgium had changed a little. He might not find them as pleasant.

‘
I guess I won’t be seeing much of France.’ He scratched his head. ‘I can promise you that our Doughboys’ll be over soon, making mincemeat of the Hun, but our General Staff doesn’t really see me as a commander in the field.’

He did not have to add anything. Sara already had a shrewd sense of why Brad Farthing had come over with the advance guard; but, for the moment, she did not care; his arrival had brightened Dick, about whom she was becoming deeply concerned.

He had certainly become disturbingly depressed, his old sense of fun vanishing into a morose silence, returning only in flashes after his uncle arrived.

So far, there had been two medical boards and both had ruled that there should be no return to duty as yet. But Sara thought she knew her husband. He wanted to get back into the air and fly even more than ever, now that his own country had joined the battle.

Dick did not know that she watched him regularly each morning; for he would slip from their bed and try to get to his dressing room without disturbing her. The first time it happened, she took a full fifteen minutes to discover what he was doing; then, looking from the upstairs windows, she saw him in the rose garden, first stumping back and forth without the aid of a stick, and then sitting on one of the low, grey stone walls, his legs thrust forward, the stick jammed between them. He would push hard, first with his left foot, and then his right, going through the physical motions of flying an aeroplane.

On the next evening she deliberately set out to goad him.
‘You’re homesick,’ she accused, as they went up to prepare for dinner.

‘
Rubbish. This is my home now, Sara.
You
are my home.’

‘
Then why, Richard, do you suddenly become a different person when your uncle arrives in
my
house?’

He laughed,
‘My darling,
your
house? The sinister Giles would probably tell it a different way…’

She opened her mouth, a sudden squall crossing her pretty face. Dick went to her, stopping the outburst with his lips before it had a chance to explode.
‘I jest, my dear Sara,’ locking eyes with her.

‘
Well, tell me?’ She was still on the verge of anger, though secretly pleased that he had come to her. In the past weeks, it had been Sara who always made the moves.

‘
Tell you? Tell you what?’

He had been limping around the house like a lame duck
– she told him – looking dour, bad tempered, edgy. Now, as soon as Uncle Brad arrived, he was a changed man. ‘I even heard you laugh, this morning, Dick. Do you realize how long it is since you actually laughed?’

‘
Yes.’ He spoke so quietly, and with such an odd timbre, that Sara turned to look at him. He was shaking, pale, propped with one hand against the table. ‘Yes, I know.’

Then he began to talk. He told her from start to finish about the operation to rescue Denise
– right up to the moment he lost consciousness in the crash. Through it all Sara detected something she had never yet seen in him. He spoke of fear; of terror as they approached the German lines; of the need to vomit as he got Denise on board; and then of the blind panic during that terrible take-off when pure luck had got them airborne.

‘
I’ve never been so frightened, Sara. And hope never to be like that again. I…’ a stammer, ‘I befouled myself,’ looking away. ‘Yes, I shit myself with fear, and why? Because your good, kind diplomatic uncle Giles…’

‘
Not my uncle…’

‘
Adopted uncle Giles, put that child out behind enemy lines. He had her running intelligence through from Belgium to Holland. Ten of her fellow spies were shot…’

‘
How do you… ?’

‘
Caspar told me. Told me at Christmas. Giles would have seen his grandchild shot in a field, and…’

‘
And it’s his job – or was; I gather he’s retired.’

‘
His kind never retire. They carry suspicion to the grave. I don’t blame him for what happened to me. Yet, for the first time in my life I was afraid – like I’m afraid now.’

Uncle Br
ad had brought with him a piece of Dick’s past. ‘Just him being here’s made me feel better, because he’s familiar; and, through him, I can remember how I used to be. He gives me a morsel of my old confidence. Oh, Sara…’ He was in her arms, and she had never thought to see a man weep like this, sobs shaking his body as if bullets were hitting it. She made out some of his words, ‘…Still frightened… Don’t know if I can do it again…’