Free The Best of Our Spies by Alex Gerlis

when he went to Oxford, we realised something was up. So, Magpie first turns up two weeks ago, tells him she is ready for her first message to be sent back to their bosses and he’s to retrieve the transmitter, which he tries to do the following Sunday – the day we caught him. Luckily, we had matters neatly tied up in time for our new friend to be dutifully sat on his park bench in time for her arrival the next Sunday. As I say, he made his transmission that night. Tuned in at the appointed time, used the bible code and told his bosses that Magpie was now active and to expect to hear from her soon. Germans replied back that they were surprised it had taken so long, but to wish her luck.’
    ‘Did Vermeulen behave during the transmission?’
    ‘Yes. We had a couple of our most experienced radio chaps watching over him. They know what to look for. Selection of frequency, speed of his keying, any deliberate mistakes – anything that would suggest he was trying to surreptitiously let the Germans know that he has compromised. As far as they can tell, he was as good as gold.’
    ‘And how did the meeting itself go?’
    ‘Just as Vermeulen said it would. Bang on eleven o’clock woman turns up the main road opposite the park. Vermeulen has been sat there for fifteen minutes, all his signals on green. We’ve got the place well covered, of course, but keep well back. Over she comes. They have a little chat. She leaves ten minutes later.’
    ‘And you were able to follow her?’
    ‘Only just. Very smart lady she is, very smart. She was a textbook example of how to do it. If we hadn’t put a tail of seven people on her we wouldn’t have made it. She went to Ealing Common Station and then spent the next two hours on a tour of London. Thought we’d lost her at one stage in the Strand heading towards Fleet Street but then one of our chaps spotted her on a bus going in the opposite direction. It stopped at a red light and he managed to get on. She got off in Northumberland Avenue and then walked down the Embankment, across Westminster Bridge and into St Thomas’s Hospital. Magpie, Professor, turns out to be a nurse.’
    ‘And does this nurse have a name?’
    ‘Indeed she does. Nathalie Mercier. Aged twenty-six. From Paris. Arrived in England second of June last year. Story was that she had been treating French soldiers and was scared of what the Germans would do to her. As far as we can tell, she was certainly working in a field hospital in Dunkirk at the time of the evacuation, so nothing suspicious about her. Cleared at Balham at the end of June.’
    ‘Is she a genuine nurse?’
    ‘Indeed. Met her matron. They think she is wonderful. Very competent and quite beautiful, I must tell, you sir. Slim figure, long legs and long dark hair. Her eyes are jet black, quite the most beautiful ones I have ever seen. Patients adore her, especially the chaps.’
    ‘Naturally. And what did matron say?’
    ‘This is where it is most fortuitous, sir. Contacted matron and said we need to see you on a matter of national security, please say nothing to anyone, usual routine. When I arrive, I say it is connection with Nathalie Mercier – we knew her name from when we followed her into the nurses’ quarters. ‘Ah,’ says Matron. ‘It must be about her transfer request.’ Appears that the beautiful Nathalie has applied to be transferred to a military hospital. Not fussy which one, anyone would do it seems though she would prefer to be in the London area. She said she felt she wanted to give something back after France’s defeat, do her bit for the Allied cause. Matron believes it, of course, which is convenient for us because we have a ready made cover story about why we’re interested in her.’
    ‘Which presumably is the reason why she was now ready to make contact with the Germans. So you said ...?’
    ‘Yes, of course! I am indeed here to check her out as to whether she can get security clearance to work in a military hospital.