indoors, waiting for the dark to descend. “What I am about to tell you is covered by the Official Secrets Act. You are aware of that document?”
“Sure. They had me read that my first day in England.”
“It gives us extraordinary powers to imprison you for revealing anything I say. I am certain you do not need to be reminded, given your exemplary record, but I do so to stress the seriousness of what I am about to reveal.”
“Understood, Professor Masterman,” I said, wondering what kind of rabbit hole I had fallen into.
“Even given your powers of observation, Captain Boyle, I would be surprised if you have heard of our organization. The Twenty Committee.” He spoke in a hushed voice, his head bent toward the ground. He wasn’t a man who liked giving up his secrets.
“No, I haven’t. Is Major Cosgrove a member?”
“He acts as a liaison with MI5,” Masterman said. “He was in charge of this issue, until his attack. It was he who suggested your involvement.”
“The murder of Stuart Neville, you mean.” The presence of Flowers and Morris led to that obvious but strange conclusion.
“Yes. We wanted the killing looked into, and we wanted more resources than the local constabulary offered. But we couldn’t reveal our interest in the case.” Masterman turned up his collar and checked to see if Flowers was still close behind. The sky in that direction was streaked with sunset reds and yellows. Ahead it was the dark blue of coming night.
“So I was chosen, with the cover story of being brought in because an American sergeant was in the house.”
“Correct,” Masterman said. “It was a good plan, the only drawback being you couldn’t be told the reason behind all the secrecy.”
“You mean the reason for the hands-off policy with George Miller. Is that what you were talking to Cosgrove about at Bushy Park? It looked like you were laying down the law to him.”
“Ah, the ever-observant Captain Boyle,” Masterman said. “Yes, I was telling the major that you had to be controlled. I was worried about what steps you might take, and with good reason, evidently.”
“Such as having Miller brought in for questioning?”
“That was the first thing. I sent Major Cosgrove here to make sure that did not happen again. I assume he spoke with you before he suffered the attack?”
“He did. He wasn’t happy. Are you going to tell me why?”
“Bear with me, Captain. I don’t have many opportunities these days for a stroll beside the water. It was the second breach that brought me here, by the way.”
“What breach?”
“You asked George Miller if he knew Major Cosgrove. You dressed it up quite innocently, but it told me that you were still determined to go your own way. I wanted you off the case, but Charles convinced me you could be trusted, if you knew the truth. He said it was a common American failing, this need to understand why an order was being given.”
“That sounds like him,” I said, wondering if Masterman would actually ever get around to spilling the beans. We walked a few paces in silence as I imagined him working up to telling the actual truth.
“The reason we are called the Twenty Committee,” he said, “is because the name was first written in roman numerals. Two Xs. For double cross.”
“Okay,” I said. “You’re in the double-crossing business.”
“The greatest double cross of the war,” he said, “perhaps of all time. In a nutshell, Captain, we control all German spies who have been captured since the war began. Most we have turned against the Germans, using them to radio false information back to their masters.”
“Most?” I asked.
“You might be surprised at how many of these spies were quick to take us up on our offer. Cooperation and life. The few who didn’t were executed. It worked out well, after all, giving their spymasters in Berlin evidence that some of their number were captured, which they would expect.”
“But what about the ones that you didn’t catch?”
“That’s just the thing, Captain,” Masterman said, stopping to look me straight in the eyes. “We are fairly certain we have bagged them all. Each and every spy the Germans sent into Britain. Quite extraordinary, actually. We have Adolf’s best spies working for us, sending their own reports back by Morse code, as dictated by the Twenty Committee.”
“So what do you need me for?” I was still confused. This cloak-and-dagger stuff seemed right up Cosgrove’s alley, but I didn’t see how I fit in. We took a few steps along the canal, and Masterman took a deep breath.
“There is one thing we live in absolute fear of, Captain Boyle. That we could miss one enemy agent. If a German spy were to land on our shores now, as we prepare for the invasion, he could easily report back facts that do not coincide with the stories we have been feeding the enemy. Do you understand?”
“Sure,” I said, seeing the problem. “You’ve created a web of lies, and all that the Germans would need would be one loose spy to crack it all wide open.”
“Exactly,” Masterman said. “One of the dangers of counterespionage is that if the enemy determines that the information they’ve been given is false, they can draw certain conclusions about what is then actually true.”
“You’re giving them phony intelligence about the invasion site,” I said. “Or the date. And if they find out that it’s not the real McCoy-”
“Then they could deduce the real location and time, or close to it. A disaster.”
“But what do you need me for? I don’t get it.”
“Really, Captain Boyle?” Masterman turned around and began walking back to the inn. “A man of your skills? Certainly you can work it out.” He grinned as if coaching a backward pupil. I thought about it. Neville is killed. Cosgrove brings me in and tells me hands off George Miller. Cosgrove works with the Twenty Committee, which has corralled all the German agents who have landed in England. The Millers are German refugees.
“Jeez, of course!” I said as the pieces fell into place. “The Millers are spies. Real ones, I bet. You let them set up shop in case a new agent makes contact with them. And Neville was one of your agents, like Flowers and Morris.”
“Quite right. We discovered the truth about the Millers from two captured Germans. We let them set up their house, even helped them with resettlement funds. And then we surrounded them with watchers. You’ve seen how George Miller keeps one room always under renovation? That way he has a spot open if an agent makes contact.”
“So the Millers are not gathering information themselves?”
“No. Their role is to provide a safe house for arriving agents. They are under orders not to engage in suspicious activities themselves. So we let them be, the perfect trap for any German spy who manages to slip through. The next few months are critical, Captain. We need them in place, our unsuspecting spiders, to draw in the flies. We need to be sure there is no threat to them. We need to know who killed Neville, and why.”
“And if it was George Miller who killed him?” I wondered how big a mistake I’d made to mention Cosgrove’s name to George. I didn’t want to be taken off the case and sent to Broadmoor, so I didn’t mention it.
“I don’t believe it was. There was no indication that Miller had stumbled onto the fact Neville was anything but a quiet boarder. And Neville was a professional; he never would have let an argument or a petty squabble get out of hand. Our biggest worry is that it was a German agent, but we’ve no actual proof.”
“But if it was Miller, you’d let him get away with it,” I said.
“For now, of course. There are too many lives at stake. Justice will find the Millers for their crimes, of that you can be certain. When we are done with them.”
“The wife and children as well?”
“Oh yes, Frau Miller is a full partner in this enterprise. We aren’t sure about the children. The son Walter is kept busy on board a supply transport in the Mediterranean, and he hasn’t made any moves. Eva is perhaps too young to have been recruited. We think she is likely innocent.”
We were close to the inn, and I laid my hand on Masterman’s arm to stop him. “You know about the missing girls?”
“Yes, I’ve heard.”
