“The communication this pigeon was carrying must have been of the highest secrecy,” said Alton Ross, an intelligence specialist at GCHQ. “Thousands of pigeons were used during the war, but the messages in historical records are in ordinary handwriting, not cipher. The red capsule indicates that it’s an Allied pigeon, likely from 1940. The encrypted message has us perplexed. But I’m confident we’ll decipher the code in short order.”

Susan stood, noticing that the ache in her knees had spread to her belly. She took in several deep breaths, which did little to allay her apprehension. She dreaded reopening memories of the war, but she had to know. Slowly, she stepped to the phone, then dialed for the operator. “Can you connect me to a Niles Googins in Rochford?”

A moment later, an elderly man’s voice answered.

“Mr. Googins?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Susan Shepherd,” she said. “I read about the remains of a pigeon you discovered.”

“I’ve spoken to enough reporters,” Googins said. “There’s nothing more to tell.”

“I’m not a reporter,” Susan said, surprised that Googins couldn’t sense the age in her voice. “I once trained pigeons for the National Pigeon Service during the war.”

“Oh,” Googins said. “The calls have been nonstop since the release of the first newspaper article. Reporters. Journalists. History enthusiasts. War veterans. They’ve all called. Even a self-proclaimed clairvoyant from Cambridge who claimed that she could decipher the pigeon’s message, for a nominal fee of course.”

“It sounds as if you’ve had quite a response from your find,” Susan said.

“Indeed.”

“May I ask you a few questions, Mr. Googins?” She heard the man sigh. “I promise to be brief.”

“Very well,” he said.

“The article referred to the pigeon as he. How did you know it was a male?”

“Aren’t all war birds male?”

Pigeons, Susan wanted to correct but held her thought. “No, we used both male and female. Did anyone try to verify the gender?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed.

“Did you happen to notice the shape of the pigeon’s head? A male’s head is rather round, but a hen’s skull will typically have a flat area on top.”

“Hold on,” Googins said.

Susan heard a clunk as the receiver dropped. She grimaced at the thought of a war pigeon being stored, in all likelihood, inside a shoe box or a piece of Tupperware.

“It’s a she,” Googins said, picking up the phone. “You’re the first person to ask about this. All the others have only been interested in the message.”

Susan paused. “Speaking of the message, did it contain a series of five-letter words? No numbers.”

“Yes,” Googins said. “Have you seen it? Bletchley Park and GCHQ weren’t supposed to release the message to the papers until after the code was broken.”

“No,” Susan said. “Did you happen to make a copy?”