Eagle Day - Robert Muchamore Page 0,37

and the only natural light came through a slot window near the ceiling.

‘Ahh.’ The man behind the desk smiled at her. ‘I’ll have a strong tea and a shortcake. And these gentlemen...’

‘This is Miss McAfferty, your Lordship,’ the Minister’s secretary said. ‘The tea lady will be along shortly.’

‘Oh,’ the Minister stuttered. ‘Terribly sorry. I’m Lord Hawthorne. This is Colonel Jackson, Deputy Director of Army Intelligence and Eric Mews, Deputy Minister from the Department of Economic Warfare.’

McAfferty shook the important hands and swept her skirt beneath her legs before taking a seat. Jackson and Hawthorne were establishment men, with posh accents. Mews was more common stock: a Labour Party man, with a north-east accent and an unlit pipe.

‘I’m new to this intelligence malarkey,’ Mews said bluntly. ‘My job is to set up a new organisation known as the Special Operations Executive. I’ll have to be honest with you, ducks. I’ve not even heard of your Espionage Research Unit and nor have quite a few people who’ve been in this game for a lot longer than I have.’

McAfferty nodded. ‘I believe the ERU dates back to a rivalry between the Army and the Navy during the last war. The Army had a small espionage unit that concentrated on German military technology. When the Navy found out, they set up their own equivalent. The ERU had a few dozen operatives at its peak in 1918, but has rather withered on the vine since then.’

‘The plan is for all branches of the intelligence service to come under a single command structure for the duration of the war,’ Lord Hawthorne explained.

‘That sounds sensible.’ McAfferty nodded.

‘So what manpower does the ERU have?’

‘There’s me and Betty at the office in Greenwich,’ McAfferty explained. ‘Then there are three operatives. Mr Gant was injured on an operation in Norway last summer. Then there’s Mr Moon who’s based in Gibraltar and Mr Henderson.’

‘And you run this organisation?’ Colonel Jackson asked.

‘Officially I’m a field assistant. But our chairman Captain Partridge suffered a stroke last summer and hasn’t been back to work since.’

‘And he wasn’t replaced?’ Hawthorne gasped. ‘What the devil are the Navy playing at?’

‘I’m not party to decisions at senior level,’ McAfferty explained diplomatically. ‘I mucked in when I returned from working with Henderson in Paris two months back.’

‘Do you have much experience in espionage work?’ Hawthorne asked suspiciously. ‘Henderson is an important resource and an operation like this needs expert handling.’

‘He’s the only active British agent in France,’ Colonel Jackson added. ‘The Boche are planning an invasion. Any information he can provide us on German strategy will be hugely important.’

‘What’s your background exactly?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘My father worked as a riveter in the Clyde shipyards,’ McAfferty replied. ‘I went to my local grammar school and won a partial scholarship to Edinburgh University. I got a double first in Economics and French, then spent three years with the diplomatic service – first stationed in France, then a two-year posting in Malaya. Unfortunately, the opportunities for ladies in the diplomatic service are limited to secretarial work. I found typing tiresome so I came back to London and joined the Espionage Research Unit.’

Hawthorne pushed his chair back, clearly rather impressed. It was rare for a working man’s daughter to go to university in the 1920s. Obtaining a first-class degree and joining the diplomatic service without a public-school background or family connections was positively stunning.

‘Do you like intelligence work?’ Colonel Jackson asked.

‘Somewhat,’ McAfferty admitted. ‘The ERU is very small, so you get lots of responsibility. A big cog in a small machine, as they say.’

‘Sounds like you’re a smart lass to me,’ Mews said, resting a hand on McAfferty’s shoulder with a gesture that she found warm but patronising. ‘There certainly doesn’t seem any reason to bring some naval officer with no intelligence experience in over your head. I’ll assign you rank and status in line with your role as the leader of an intelligence organisation.’

‘What ranks are Henderson and Moon?’ Colonel Jackson asked.

‘Commander,’ McAfferty said.

‘You’ll have to be a captain then,’ Lord Hawthorne said, before laughing aloud. ‘How does that sound, Captain McAfferty?’

‘Not Captain,’ Colonel Jackson said. ‘The equivalent rank for a Wren

5 is Superintendent.’

‘Mr Henderson might not be happy,’ McAfferty noted. ‘I mean, I worked as his assistant. He’s been in the Navy for more than ten years …’

‘There’s a war on,’ Mews said firmly. ‘I’m creating a new intelligence organisation from scratch and I have the power to assign civilians whatever rank they require to get their jobs done. The ERU