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Authors: John Gardner

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In the event of, er… unlikely problems between Prussia and Great Britain,’ Steinhauer spelled it out very carefully, ‘we feel it only sensible to prepare ways to use Ireland to advantage – from a naval viewpoint, you understand.’


Oh, I follow you.’ Padraig O’Connell nodded enthusiastically.


I shall send a friend soon. You can talk to him freely. If there is anything you wish to tell him – about British military or naval operations here – we will reward you. This man will be prepared to do anything, shall we say, unpleasant? for you. Understand?’

O
’Connell grinned, and said it was quite possible they could use such a man. Then Steinhauer left, returning to Berlin to find Ulhurt straining at the leash.


I want to do something useful.’


In good time. Soon. Arrangements are in hand, but first, I wish to talk to you of code names.’

The giant gazed at him blankly.

‘You will be known by two separate code names, but I’m going to call you “The Fisherman” because you will be trawling the seas for souls… Like St Peter, in the Bible.’

Ulhurt gave a short laugh which lacked conviction, so Steinhauer continued,
‘Your wireless cipher names will be “Saint” – for St Peter – and “Angler”. You understand me?’


You think me an idiot?’


No.’


Well, then. Of course I understand you. Ciphers, code names, you seem to live in a world of ghosts and goblins, my friend.’ Ulhurt laughed again, this time rather unpleasantly.

Steinhauer
’s face froze into a stony look, ‘And you,
my friend
, do not know how close to the truth you are sailing.’

*

The lights burned late in the Hide, on the second floor of Giles Railton’s house in Eccleston Square.

Tonight there was no time for the maps or soldiers. Giles bent low over his table, strewn with papers, making notes for the next day
’s work. As he worked, part of his mind dwelt on the perils of the future. Everyone, he presumed, wanted to believe in a lasting, long summer of peaceful years; but wanting was not enough.

One name spelled out the dangers
– Kaiser Wilhelm II.

Edward
– the ‘Uncle of Europe’ – was suspect to the Kaiser. The Encircler, the Plotter was how the German Emperor saw him, and if the Kaiser had his way, his heel would be on his Uncle Edward’s neck: while France would lie passively, her legs spread wide to accept his rape.

Nobody, Giles often argued, could doubt what the Kaiser really wanted: recognition of Imperial Germany as the one true Power in Europe.

Tomorrow he had much to do. There was another meeting of his Sub-Committee For Review of Intelligence Structure, and only late that afternoon, Giles had received permission to pass on the information he had already put before the CID Secretariat that day. He had doubts as to members of the sub-committee either believing, or acting on, his information.

His nephew, John, was to join his sub-committee as representative from the Cabinet the following afternoon, and Giles had been relieved to learn, two days before, that his son, Andrew, would not have to
find more excuses to duck accompanying the DID. For Lieutenant-Commander Andrew Railton had now been promoted to a more sensitive post within the Intelligence Division’s structure.

He put his notes to one side, and pulled another batch of papers into the glow from the green-shaded
‘student lamp’. First, the letter to Mr Harding, from Bridget Railton. That was moving well. Next, his daughter Marie Grenot’s letters, together with the reports from Monique. They added up – Monique’s reports and Marie’s sources read like well-kept account books. Tomorrow he would act on what had been given to him – indeed he had acted already over the business of Captain Walter Nicolai.

On the following morning, Giles took a cab to the War Office, and within half an hour was sitting opposite Vernon Kell.

Kell was alone except for the clerk, Sprogitt. Charles was working. ‘Like a Trojan,’ Kell said.


You’ll find him a much-changed man. Really hard at it. I’m running him around like a donkey engine. Crash courses in everything. Paddy Quinn’s fixing up driving lessons with the Branch.’

Giles wondered how long his nephew would remain so dedicated. Not many months, he thought. Briskly
he turned the conversation to the object of his visit. ‘You’ll guess what I’ve come to talk about?’


Walter Nicolai?’

Giles nodded.

‘You certainly have good sources of information, sir. Arrived exactly as you predicted.’


And how did the visit turn out?’ Giles had left the whole business of Captain Nicolai’s London visit in Kell’s hands.


Quinn’s people took care of it. No personal details. Prussian Officer Corps. Military family. Young, more enthusiastic than most, rising junior staff officer.’ Kell gave him a mock-sly look. ‘It seems there’s recently been a battle over intelligence matters, between the Berlin Foreign Office and the Imperial Army. Apparently the Army’s won the day. Captain Nicolai has an important patron. He’s under the protection of Colonel Ludendorff – head of Section Two of the Great General Staff. They are to form their own Intelligence department. From your information it would seem that Nicolai’s got the top job.’

Apparently Nicolai had remained in the Embassy during his entire visit to London, though he had received one interesting visitor
– a civilian named Gustav Steinhauer. The Branch had taken a peep at the register of the hotel where Steinhauer was staying. He had given a false address in Berlin. The name of the street did not show on any map, so Kell took some expert advice from one of his many contacts – a Berliner.

The Branch had done some more checking. Steinhauer appeared to travel widely, claiming to be a paper manufacturer, yet he did not visit any firms connected with paper. Instead, Herr Steinhauer seemed to be interested in dockyards. He had also slipped across to Ireland for at least two days.

‘By rights we should have arranged for Steinhauer to be followed,’ Kell grumbled. ‘But Paddy Quinn’s men cannot do it all.’

Giles reminded him of the s
ub-committee meeting that afternoon and Kell wrinkled his nose. Too much time was spent in meetings. He wanted to get on with the job in hand.


Come and have some luncheon,’ Giles allowed one of his warmer smiles. ‘Then we can go to the meeting together – “cheek by jowl”. Again the Railton love of Shakespeare, a habit quickly copied by their women. The thing Railtons rarely admitted, even to one another, was that they often ‘thought’ in Shakespearean tags, and derived much pleasure and comfort from the habit.

*

At half-past two that afternoon, the Sub-Committee For Review of Intelligence Structure gathered in the somewhat gloomy room allotted to it at the top of the main War Office building.

Giles welcomed his nephew, John, as the new Cabinet representative, and then ga
ve a bravura performance, illustrating what his family had known for years – his adroitness in handling committees.

Everyone was present: Sir Douglas Haig with an entourage of two clean-cut young officers, the DID from the Admiralty, and a pair of Treasury officials with eyes that showed as much clarity as glass.

A Royal Marine Captain called Maurice Hankey was there on behalf of the CID Secretariat; Kell, of course, attended in his own right; as did the naval officer, Commander Smith-Cumming, Kell’s opposite number in the Foreign Intelligence Section.

Giles began with an assault on the Treasury, ramming home the fact that the new Secret and Security Services were going to mean a substantial allotment of both cash and men.

He quickly moved on to talk of the German reorganization, and the intelligence concerning Captain Nicolai. Then he played his trump card, the Prussian Imperial High Command’s work on the Schlieffen War Plan. In dealing with this he made a clever plea for the impartiality of a purely civilian service.


Military Intelligence, in the field, is one thing – you gain information and then immediately do something about it. Eh, Haig?’

Douglas Haig grunted a stubborn affirmative, and Giles continued:

‘An Intelligence Service, of the kind we are already organizing, is, however, something apart. Its job is to collect, collate and analyse information. Our kind of Intelligence Service is neither geared, nor required, to act upon that information. The duty of any Secret Service is to provide a facility for both the Diplomatic Corps and, more particularly, the armed forces. It would be military experts, like Sir Douglas, here, who would make decisions on whatever information the secret departments provided for them. Yes, Haig?’


I take the point.’ Haig was loath to accept any handling of intelligence outside the Army. He vaguely saw how Giles was outflanking him, so turned the conversation back onto the German War Plan. ‘I must say, Railton, that this idea of the Germans tinkering with what you call the Schlieffen Plan seems to make no sense. If my own diplomatic history serves me correctly, Prince von Bismarck himself laid down that Belgium would be inviolable. It’s unthinkable.’


Really?’ Giles raised his eyebrows. ‘Remember, Douglas, that Bismarck piloted Germany to unity. The present Kaiser threw him out.’


But you don’t really believe that the German High Command, presuming they have designs on France, would risk clashing with us by walking into Belgium.’


It’s exactly what I believe, and it’s what our agents appear to have revealed. Remember, Clausewitz – the genius of strategists – held that “the heart of France lies between Brussels and Paris”. Von Schlieffen’s plan is for the quick kill, going for the heart of France; and the only way to take France’s heartland with speed is via Belgium. I have no reason to believe the current High Command thinking has changed.’


Cold-blooded,’ Haig murmured. ‘Unrealistic from a diplomatic viewpoint.’

Giles pointed out that, as a soldier, Haig should know that strategy and diplomacy did not mix well.

‘I suspect, from the information my people have provided, that the neutrality of Belgium is an unimportant obstacle; and that is how the present High Command sees it. I am passing on the kind of intelligence we believe our reorganized service can supply. I feel the General Staff should act on it.’

By the end of the meeting, Giles felt that the information provided by his daughter regarding both Captain Nicolai, and the fact of the Prussian High Command
’s adherence to the kernel of von Schlieffen’s plan, had been of great assistance in making his case for a Foreign Office-controlled Intelligence Service. But would the General Staff really take any notice? He doubted it as Haig departed with a curt nod, and the one word, ‘Interestin’.’ The attitude of the General Staff was fast becoming Giles’ despair.

John Railton left, after giving brief, warm greetings to Giles
’ family. As always, his uncle had impressed him, and he could report well to the Prime Minister.

As for Giles, he was oddly concerned about his nephew. There had been times when he detected John
’s concentration wandering, and it was so unlike the man that he made a mental note to ask a few questions in the right quarters.

*

Giles was correct. John was far from being himself that day. Overworked, he had started to miss Sara, who – to his surprise – remained, uncomplaining, at Redhill Manor. His distraction this afternoon had been caused by a letter, received at the Athenaeum that very lunchtime. It came from his son, James:
Dearest Papa

I write to tell you that I have passed my ‘Further’ in grand style, so will be going up to Sandhurst on 3 September of this year. I trust you will be pleased.

I have written to Uncle Andrew, giving him my news, for Caspar should also have his results by now.

The weather here at Redhill remains consistent. Spring cannot be far away, and this is ideal flying weather. I thank you so much for the payment to Dick Farthing who has arranged one of the new Farmans for my latest lessons, having agreed that, after all, this is the best machine available on which to learn. There is plenty of room on the Upper Down pasture, especially as it is clear of cattle at the moment.

Dick has flown up here three times in the past ten days to give me ground instruction. Yesterday, he allowed me to do a short hop, and appeared awfully pleased. I had no trouble controlling the machine.

Sara is most interested, and says
she
wishes to learn. She appears to have taken quite a shine to Farthing, who stayed on for the nights he was here, flying off at dawn.

One morning, Sara got up and went out to see him off. She really is a most splendid stepmother to have, and you
will, I am sure, be pleased to learn of the great interest she is showing in both the Manor and Farm. She had old Froud up from the town, trotting around the house while she made suggestions about new curtains, and a carpet, for The General’s study.

Dear Papa, you must come and see us all soon. I know Sara needs you, but she is really more like a sister than a stepmother to me. She learns much about the farm, and goes riding often, with Bob Berry. It appears he teaches her many things concerning the farm, and how the land is managed.

BOOK: The Secret Generations
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