Chapter 21

Sgt. Brooke came up behind the Americans, carrying a chair in each hand. He glanced around the room. "Here we go. Everyone 'as a seat now. Mr. Foyle, will there be anything else?"

"I think we're fine for now. Thank you."

After the Americans were seated, Foyle began the introductions, nodding at each individual as he introduced them. "Colonel James Bradbury, commander of the King's Guard Regiment of the British Army; Mr. Colin Morse, from Home Office; Miss Hilda Pierce, from Special Operations Executive; Captain Don Eppes, United States Army, assigned to the OSS; Doctors Charles Eppes and Lawrence Fleinhardt, from the California Institute of Science, on loan to the Code and Cipher School; and Miss Anna Buonaroti, newspaper reporter, who worked together to decipher the message." He glanced at Colby. "I'm afraid I don't know this gentleman."

Don said, "This is Lieutenant Colby Granger. He's also assigned to the OSS with me. We've both worked with Miss Pierce's agency with great success, I might add."

Hilda agreed, "Very great success." She turned to Charlie. "Professor Eppes, Professor Fleinhardt, your work with the Code and Cipher School is groundbreaking. I'm grateful Dr. Turing was willing to let us borrow you."

"Thank you, Miss Pierce," Charlie said. "Though I'm sure our government put more than a little pressure on Dr. Turing to release us to help out here."

Hilda laughed. "I'm almost certain they did."

Morse cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but you can catch up on old times later," he said quite tersely. "I'm afraid we're rather under the gun here with no time for idle frivolity. I trust everyone in this room has the highest level of clearance," he scowled at Anna. "Miss … uh … Bonacardi?"

"Buonaroti," Anna corrected. "My clearance is that my best friend was murdered and the coded message was found in her shoe. If you want me out of this room, you're going to have to drag me." Narrowing her eyes at the diminutive bureaucrat, she added, "I doubt you're up to the task." She turned away from him, and muttered, "Pompous twit."

Charlie, who was sitting next to Anna, covered his chuckle with a cough. Don grinned, but was able to stifle it quickly.

Morse shook his head, then turned to Foyle. "Chief Superintendent, I'm going to have to insist that Miss Buonaroti be excluded from our meetings. She does not have the necessary clearance."

Charlie put his hand on Anna's shoulder, halting any comment from her. "Miss Buonaroti was instrumental in deciphering the message and she already knows its content in full. I'm going to have to insist that she remain."

"Fine, fine, let her stay," the colonel growled. "Let's get down to brass tacks, shall we? A member of the royal family is in danger. There's no time to quibble about clearances. Mr. Foyle," he continued, "the kidnapping was planned to take place on the first of June, am I correct?"

"You are," Foyle said.

"That is only six days from today," Morse said. "We need to move Princess Elizabeth to safety. She must not report for her assignment in Camberley."

The colonel shook his head. "Not a good idea, Morse. We'd spook the kidnappers and lose our opportunity to catch them."

"Are you insane? You want to use the princess as bait? " Morse's voice squeaked on the last word.

"What do you take me for, man? Of course we wouldn't use her as bait. I'm merely saying that whatever we do, we can't let the kidnappers know we've caught on to what they're doing. We need to make it appear that the princess is continuing with her scheduled commitments."

"The kidnappers are not stupid, Morse," Hilda said. "The royal family has not been secretive about their movements. They take every opportunity to boost the morale of their subjects by remaining in the public eye. The Princess must do everything as planned, including making the journey to Camberley."

"Miss Pierce, I'm afraid you've gone stark raving mad," Morse blustered. "The King will never agree to that."

"The only other option would be to frighten off the kidnappers and leave the royal family at risk of further machinations from them."

"Excuse me," Charlie said, interrupting the brewing squabble, "where is the princess now?"

"She's in Windsor Palace with the rest of the royal family," Morse said. "They refused to send the children to Canada, but at least they've made the sensible decision to spend the nights in Windsor instead of Buckingham Palace."

"When is she planning on leaving for Camberley?" Charlie asked.

"Early in the morning of the first. Camberley is only about twelve miles from Windsor. Why?" Morse asked.

"Well, we know at least some of the people plotting the kidnapping are here in Hastings. We know they're awaiting another message. How far are we from Camberley?"

"I'd say two and a half hours at the most," the colonel replied.

"So it's feasible that we could catch the kidnappers before the princess even leaves the palace," Don said.

"It sounds terribly risky to me," Morse objected.

"Listen," Don said, "if something goes wrong on this end, we'll have enough time to cancel the princess's trip if we need to."

"I still don't like it," Morse said. "I will make my recommendations to the Home Secretary, and you may rest assured that I will not recommend your risky scheme."

"Wait!" Hilda said in a tone of voice that silenced Morse immediately. "We don't need to put the princess at risk. We could use a decoy. The princess will be seen leaving Windsor Castle, and we can divert the princess to a safe location and replace her with someone else on the way to Camberley. Once the coast is clear in Camberley, the princess can then continue on her way."

"I like it," Don said.

Morse started to object, when Foyle interrupted. "Mr. Morse, I think the plan makes a great deal of sense." He turned back to Charlie. "Professor, your idea is to continue the investigation of the murder and assaults, correct?"

"That's right. If we assume that Miss Levine was killed because she discovered the encrypted message, and that my brother and I were attacked because we were involved in trying to decipher the message, then it makes perfect sense that the people involved in those attacks would also be involved in the plot to kidnap the princess."

Foyle nodded. "So you suggest finding and arresting them here?"

"Not necessarily," Charlie said. "That would work if we were absolutely certain that we could capture the whole gang here. But, if we miss even one conspirator, the princess could still be in danger. I think the best thing would be to identify as many of them as we can, follow them to Camberley, and stop the plot when it unfolds."

Foyle glanced at he assembled group. All, but Morse nodded. "All right, Dr. Eppes," Foyle said, "where do you suggest we start?"

"We need to pool all of the information we have: Miss Pierce's information about the European end of things, your information about the murder of Miss Levine, the information Don and I have about the men who attacked us." He glanced at Anna. "And Miss Buonaroti's information about Miss Levine's movements before she was killed. We'll be able to make connections between what may at first look like unrelated bits and pieces."

Morse shifted uneasily in his chair. "I don't suppose it will hurt to try it your way, as long as you leave us enough time to change the princess's plans."

"I'm glad you're on board," Don said, stifling a smirk. He turned to the colonel. "She'll have regular security, I assume, Sir."

"Yes, she does. Our standard complement for each princess. The actual number of men on security detail is considered classified."

"Can you improve her security without being too obvious about it?" Don asked.

The colonel nodded. "We do routinely change up the princesses' security details to keep the Jerries guessing, you know. I could easily add another one or two visible men without arousing suspicion and add a few more hidden in plain sight. Any more than that would be asking for trouble. I'll also replace some of the men with more senior personnel and brief them on the threat."

"All right, then," Charlie picked up the pad of paper, "Let's start pooling our resources." He looked around the room. "Who wants to start?"

Foyle leaned forward, elbows on his desk. "As you know, we have been investigating the murder of Sharon Levine, an American photographer. Miss Buonaroti and Miss Levine were here to produce a series of articles about the effects of the war in England. They chose Hastings because of its proximity to Europe and because Miss Levine had relatives in this area. Unfortunately, Miss Levine's relatives were less than anxious to renew acquaintances with the Jewish side of the family."

"Who are those relatives?" Hilda asked.

"Her maternal grandparents, Sir Walter St. James and his wife Lady Charlotte. Their daughter Penelope married Jacob Levine, an American. Miss Levine attempted to visit Sir Walter and was told in no uncertain terms that she was not welcome. Sir Walter and Lady Charlotte have two daughters and two granddaughters. The other granddaughter, Susan Berry, … ."

"Works for the Code and Cipher School, yes, I know." Hilda finished with a nod. She turned to Charlie and Larry. "Do you gentlemen know her?"

Charlie's face reddened. "We do. I can't see how she could possibly be involved in this. She obviously passed the rigorous investigation to be given a position in a secure facility."

"Oh, she did, all right," Hilda said with a lift of her eyebrow.

"Do you know her?" Don asked Hilda.

Hilda ignored Don's question and turned back to Foyle. "Are you certain that Walter and Charlotte St. James were not involved in the death of their estranged granddaughter?"

"I am not, but I felt there was no point in antagonizing them until we had more evidence. Do you have information that would be useful in my inquiries?"

"Perhaps. But as is usual in my line of work, little of it would stand up in a court of law. You'll need to use anything I tell you only to assist in your own inquiries." She glanced around the room. "We have been investigating a German civilian, or more correctly, we are currently assuming this person is a civilian, who has been in contact with British civilians here in the southeast coast. The note that was found in Miss Levine's shoe was encrypted using the same technique used in other communications we have discovered and translated."

"Why were we not informed?" Morse asked.

"The Home Office was informed. I have no control over what they do with the information we provide. You might want to ask your superiors why they did not see fit to tell you about this. Now, if I may continue, this German was very careful in his communications. Never specifically stating much of anything that would give away too much information in the messages. Even after we deciphered the messages, we were still pretty much in the dark as to what they were planning. We have yet to determine how the recipient knows the keywords to use to decrypt the messages. Each message we discovered had a different keyword."

"When did you intercept the last message?" Charlie asked.

"Three weeks ago. Why?"

"Our message gave the place of the next drop. Did your last message give any locations? That might help Mr. Foyle determine how Miss Levine had the message in her possession."

Hilda picked up a folder from Foyle's desk and leafed through the papers. "Here we are. The next drop, according to this missive, was to be in the Blue Dolphin." She glanced at Foyle. "That's where you found Miss Levine, isn't it?"

"It is. Interesting." Foyle picked up his notes. "The pub was bombed before she was murdered. I wonder what led her to wander into a bombed out pub. Miss Buonaroti, you said that the last time you saw Miss Levine, she was excited. She had found out something, right?"

"That's right," Anna said, "but she didn't say what it was."

"Where was she before she told you that?"

"I don't know. I was in our room at the White Feather, writing, when she came in, all excited."

"You said she grabbed her cameras and left, so she didn't have them with her earlier that day, correct?" Foyle said. "And you don't have any idea where she might have been?"

Anna closed her eyes and pondered. "She had one of those big envelopes with her. The kind she put her pictures in."

"That's good," Don said, "she was probably coming from the newspaper office, then, right?"

Anna opened her eyes and nodded. "Yeah. She would take her cameras to the newspaper, do her developing there, and then I guess the pictures had to dry before she could take them. So she'd go back later that day, or sometimes even the next day, and pick up her pictures."

"And that brings us back to Simon Baker, the newspaper photographer who's gone missing," Foyle said.

"Missing?" the colonel straightened in his seat. "Do you have men looking for him?"

Foyle nodded, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "Yes, we do. Milner," he glanced over at his sergeant, "why don't you check and see how that's going?"

"Yes, Sir," Milner opened the door and left the office.

"Captain Eppes caught a glimpse of what we believe was one of Miss Levine's missing cameras when we interviewed Baker. Unfortunately, he didn't realize at the time that it could have been one of her cameras. There was an identifying mark on the camera that the captain saw, but didn't know its significance until after we had returned here and he had asked about her other equipment. Identical markings were on all of the equipment we had recovered from the scene. When we returned to Baker's office later that day, he was gone. He had left unexpectedly. We went to his home that he shares with his elderly mother. She told us he was supposed pick her up to take her somewhere, but never came home. So, Baker is currently in the wind. Hopefully, for not much longer."

"Simon Baker, you say?" Hilda consulted her notes. "One of the messages we intercepted was addressed to SB."

"This is clearly beyond the capabilities of your department, Mr. Foyle," Morse said, gesturing at Foyle's phone. "I suggest you call Assistant Commissioner Parkins and get some more men down here. Now!"

"For a suggestion, that sounds rather like an order," Hilda said with a wry smile.

Foyle shrugged and left the telephone where it was. "I notified Mr. Parkins before I notified you, Mr. Morse. He should be arriving any time now. Miss Pierce, what were the contents of the other messages you intercepted? Were they related to this kidnap plot?"

"They were not," Hilda said, pulling out a few sheets of paper. "This first one was an attempt to establish radio contact. The second was an angry reminder that it was urgent to establish contact, that the physical delivery of coded messages was increasingly dangerous." She glanced at the colonel. "A reflection of the effectiveness of our military. Other messages were less specific. They asked the traitors here to help recruit others to the cause. No names were mentioned."

"How do they deliver the messages?" Larry asked. "I assume it would be very difficult to breach the coastal defenses."

The colonel sighed. "We've made it as difficult as we could, but there's a great deal of coastline to defend; unfortunately we can't have people guarding every inch. And sadly, not all British subjects support the defeat of Hitler."

Don and Charlie exchanged glances. "We know," Charlie said. "May I see the messages?"

"Of course. Here are the encrypted messages, and the translations, including the keyword," Hilda handed him the messages. She raised her eyebrows as he pulled out his fountain pen. "Oh, Professor, these are the originals, so please be careful with them."

"Oh … of course … uh … certainly," Charlie stammered, putting the pen back into his shirt pocket. "I just wanted to see if the handwriting was similar to our message. Mr. Foyle, do you have the original of our message?"

Morse shook his head as Foyle handed Charlie the paper. "Don't tell me you're a handwriting expert as well, Dr. Eppes."

Charlie laid all the messages on the desk. "No, but it doesn't take an expert to see the similarities. They were definitely written by a German. The same person, in fact."

"How can you tell that?" Morse asked.

"Here, look at the 'x'. English and American penmanship crosses the two diagonals. Germans make two semi-circles that bump up against each other. Their 'x' looks more like a fancy 'h'. Plus, if you look at the loops and swoops, you can see they are all identical, across all these messages."

"And exactly how does that help the princess?"

Charlie shrugged, wincing at the twinge of pain the movement brought. "I don't know. But I tend to believe that the more information you have, the better."

Larry pulled his chair closer to the desk to look at the messages. His eyes widened as he continued to look at the decoded messages. "I think I know how they knew the keyword to use."

"Really?" Hilda and Charlie asked in unison.

"These messages are in the order they were received, correct?"

"Correct," Hilda said.

"Look," Larry pointed to the first message. "Here the sender tells the recipient to contact Falcon if they need help. The second message used the keyword 'falcon.'"

"And the second message mentions Hastings, and the third message was decoded with the keyword 'hastings,'" Charlie added.

"And here's 'Hitler' mentioned in the message that preceded our message," Larry said. "So I think it's fair to assume that the message dropped at the White Feather will be deciphered using the keyword 'kestrel."

"Excellent!" Hilda said. "That will save us a great deal of time."

Milner knocked and opened the door. "Sir," he addressed Foyle, "we've established that Simon Baker has a brother in Eastbourne. I've contacted the Eastbourne police and they are on their way to visit the brother now. They'll call when they know anything. I've told Sergeant Brooke to come get me if they call while we're meeting."

"Thank you," Foyle said, as Milner took up his post next to the door. "Now, shall we move on to the assaults? We've identified two of the six assailants. Unfortunately, Captain Eppes didn't see his assailants." He glanced at Don. "Now that you've recovered somewhat from your attack, do you remember anything useful about your attackers? A voice? Anything?"

Don considered briefly, then shook his head. "Nothing more than I told you last night. I will let you know if I remember anything."

"Thank you. We do know Dr. Eppes was attacked by Mick Duffy, Red Lewis and another man we haven't identified yet." He stopped and looked up at Charlie. "The third man. You said he was about five foot nine inches and had blond hair, correct?"

"That's right."

Foyle flipped through the folder. "Could this have been him?" He handed Charlie a photo.

Charlie studied the picture, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I believe that's him. Who is he?"

"That's our missing photographer, Simon Baker."

"SB," Hilda said softly.

"Hilda," Don said softly, "do you know anything about these three?"

Hilda smiled enigmatically. "I'm assigned to work in Europe, not here." She grew serious. "I would tell you if I knew anything.

Foyle's lips twitched. "To be honest, Miss Pierce, I have found you less than forthcoming in our previous encounters."

Colby chuckled. "I think he knows you pretty well, Miss Pierce."

Hilda shook her head. "Lt. Granger, I'm sure Mr. Foyle understands that I couldn't cooperate fully in those instances. However, this time we're on the same team, working toward the same goal. Short of giving you the names of our operatives, or specifics as to their locations, I will be completely forthcoming."

Foyle had opened his mouth to respond when Sergeant Brooke knocked once and opened the door.

"Mr. Milner, DCS Dalgleish of Eastbourne is on the telephone for you. 'E says 'e's got your man."