‘That’s right. Odd fellow; left under something of a cloud. Do you recall? It was after my time. Something to do with boys in the prep school?’

‘I think it was drink, actually, rather a lot of it apparently, most of it from the headmaster’s cellar. Shame, we could have put him to good use in the Service. So we send Laertes to Peenemünde. Can’t imagine him being terribly chuffed at the idea.’

‘It’s not about being chuffed, though, is it? You’ll let me know how you get on, won’t you?’

‘There is something I left out of my report, Roly.’ Gilbey proceeded to tell Pearson about Prince’s escape from the restaurant and Kurt’s death.

‘And Laertes didn’t see fit to mention this?’ Pearson shook his head in disbelief.

‘Agent Laertes’ report concentrated exclusively on his conversation with Kurt, which is fair enough: after all, that was what we sent him to Berlin for. Agents often omit information they think reflects badly on them. They prefer to pass on more positive news in the limited time and space they have for their communications.’

‘Even so, not to mention that Kurt had been killed is quite some omission. That fact alone would seem to suggest he is – was – who he said he was, and gives us all the more reason to trust what he said. How do you know this anyway, Tom?’

‘We have an agent in Berlin. She’s top class, extraordinarily well placed: very brave, very sharp. She’s a Barnaby Allen recruit, and of course he runs her – you remember Barney? He was a year below me at school, always won at cross-country. One of those annoying types who was good at games but also top of the class in most subjects. Any contact with her is strictly through him, but I have to say, he’s been terribly helpful. I asked him if she could keep an eye on Laertes when he and Horatio were in Berlin. It was she who spotted that the Gestapo had tracked Kurt down to the restaurant, and she was able to warn them.’

‘Anything else you care to tell me about her?’

Gilbey shook his head. ‘Not much, Roly, you know how it is. There’s a limit to how much I know myself. Her husband’s a devout Nazi, a senior officer in the SS, that’s all I’ve been told. Barney doesn’t allow any of us to get anywhere near her, and I can’t say I blame him.’

‘Do you have a name for her?’

‘Her code name for this operation is Amsel. It’s German for blackbird.’

Chapter 14

Denmark, December 1942–January 1943

‘Stay in here, keep quiet and if you need to, use that bucket. I’m sorry it’s going to be so uncomfortable, but the Germans don’t usually come down here, so at least it ought to be safe. You have some food?’