‘No, I didn’t, sir. He was clearly a resentful type, big chip on his shoulder and all that, but whether that makes him a traitor, I’m not sure. As I think I said to you, it’s all too convenient, eh?’

‘Nevertheless… nevertheless…’ Gilbey rearranged a few papers on his already tidy desktop and seemed to come to a decision. ‘As long as the possibility remains that Tindall was passing on intelligence about our operations to the Germans, and the young foreign chap is on the loose, we cannot risk using the SOE to send Prince to Denmark.’

‘But if the source was Tindall and Tindall is dead, then there’s no longer any danger, surely?’

‘I know, Roland, but if he was a Nazi spy, what might he have told this young man? We need to get Prince to Denmark by alternative means.’

‘Which is difficult,’ said Hendrie. ‘After all, the SOE has all the expertise in that respect.’

‘I know, I know. Tell me, Hendrie – Tindall’s assistant, the Danish girl, what’s she like?’

‘Greta Poulsen? Nice enough. Pretty thing, if rather broad-shouldered. Good legs, though, and a fine—’

‘I’m not asking about her physique. What is she like as a person?’

‘Quiet, but good at just getting on with things. I know Tindall complained about being used as a dogsbody, but in many respects Miss Poulsen was Tindall’s dogsbody, though she never moaned about it like he did. I’m not sure how well things would have functioned without her.’

‘Was she in the same office as you and Tindall?’

‘Just outside it, sir, in an anteroom. In case you have any worries, she was discretion personified. She always knocked before coming in, and either Tindall or I would lock the office when we left.’

‘No, I’m not concerned in that respect. She came through her security clearance with flying colours; I’d already checked that out. The thing is, we need her expertise, but we’d need to get her away from Rodmarton Street. I propose we second her to us while we prepare Prince for his mission.’

Gilbey called in a favour or two. He couldn’t risk Webster knowing he wanted to use Greta Poulsen to help prepare Prince, so Webster’s superior at Noresby House was persuaded to instruct him to dismiss her. ‘Sorry, Webster, that part of your operation will have to be shut down: consider it compromised. Don’t worry about Miss Poulsen, we’ll find something for her to do.’

Next it was his sister-in-law, whose father owned and farmed considerable chunks of Derbyshire. ‘It’s going to be tricky, Tom,’ was her initial response. With her, things were always tricky. Gilbey said that was a shame, because he could be of considerable help with petrol rations – even quite generous. Half an hour later, she rang back: no problem.