‘No, no, no… I don’t want the Danish section to have even the slightest inkling of Prince’s existence, let alone the fact that we’ve recruited him. Looks like we’ll have to rely on the SOE to get him into Denmark, but I don’t want to ask him to step out of a plane a few thousand feet above the country until we can be sure there’s no informer in Rodmarton Street who’s arranged for the Gestapo to be expecting him. If there is an informer, your job, Hendrie, is to try and find them.’

Hendrie felt a surge of excitement. No longer would he be at Bentley’s beck and call, being dispatched around the country to check out every rumour of a German spy. He’d been personally selected for this mission by Gilbey himself.

‘Won’t it be a problem, me not speaking Danish, sir?’

‘Not at all. Half the people there don’t speak a word of it, and I’m told the place has plenty of young Danish ladies who do translating and suchlike.’ Gilbey winked at him.

‘And what’s my story? There must be a reason why I’m transferring from the Service to the SOE.’

Gilbey hesitated, looked down at the floor and then up at Hendrie.

‘You’ll be going there under something of a cloud, I’m afraid. You’ll need to adopt the persona of a rather embittered former employee of the Service.’

Two days later, Hendrie met his new boss at Noresby House. Lieutenant Colonel Robert Webster ran the SOE Danish section. He had, Gilbey assured him, fought in most of the major battles on the Western Front and there was no question as to his loyalty. ‘He’s the only one we’ve confided in about you; he’s been very worried himself about the possibility of there being a German agent in his section. Not terribly happy that we’re coming in to sort out his mess, but he knows that’s the way it is. But even he doesn’t know about Prince.’

Webster was well into his sixties, possibly even pushing early seventies, and was one of a legion of senior military and intelligence officers who’d been pulled out of retirement to help in the war effort. He had the slightly irritable air of someone who’d been woken early from an afternoon nap.

‘Gilbey’s told me everything, Hendrie, no need to repeat it all.’ He ran his hands through silver-grey hair slightly longer than most men of his age would wear it, then looked at Hendrie as if, despite telling him not to repeat it, that was nonetheless what he should do.