A Noble Profession

“Yes, sir, like this: ‘Have met Otto. Evidently important person and seems genuine. Guarantees: firstly, has shown he knows all about Gleicher’s treachery, information provided, my own activities, links with London, radio wave lengths. Enough to have us all shot, yet has always left us undisturbed. Secondly, has himself provided me with documents I believe to be of great importance on which urgent action needed. Anxious establish contact with responsible authorities.’ ”

“What about these documents?” Dr. Fog asked.

“They arrived yesterday,” Austin told him. “I passed them on to the specialists after glancing through them myself. All our opinions agree. They’re infinitely more important than anything else we’ve had, and they appear to be accurate.”

“How so?”

“We've been able to cross-check quite a number of them. There are some that refer to the new submarine shelter, on which a group of French engineers has already provided information; but these are far more complete and detailed. Others, covering a wider field, should prove extremely useful. Unless, of course . . .”

“Unless they’re all part of a vast deception scheme.”

“That’s exactly what the specialists think, sir. But they add: ‘In which case it's an extremely high-level scheme, drawn up by a service in close contact with the High Command . . .’ At all events, this seems to prove that it’s definitely an Abwehr authority who is interested in us.”

“Which doesn’t make it any more reassuring,” Dr. Fog muttered.

“There’s also another reason why we should be on our guard, sir.”

The doctor looked at him intently. Austin had lowered his voice, like a lecturer preparing an effect.

“It’s this, sir. These last two messages were encyphered in a code only Arvers knows, one reserved for top-secret messages. Their importance certainly justifies this precaution. Claire therefore sent them off without knowing what they were all about.”

“You’re quite sure it was Claire who sent them?”

“Absolutely certain. I asked the operator who usually receives her and there’s no doubt about it. You know how they can recognize an operator's ‘touch’ when transmitting, even better than a signature. So it must have been Claire who sent them. Only . . .”

“Only what?”

“She inserted a warning sign, sir. Two letters inverted in a certain group. That doesn’t present any decoding difficulty for our experts and, according to prearrangements, it means we must be on our guard.”

Dr. Fog wrinkled his brow but made no comment. Austin waited a moment, then went on earnestly:

“It’s still too early to form an opinion, sir, but it’s certain our team isn't getting on very well together. The use of the special code can only mean that Arvers is suspicious of Claire. Her signal proves his feelings are reciprocated. Since my job is to keep an eye on this team, my presence over there is indispensable.”

“It’s rather dangerous,” the doctor observed, without betraying any further sign of surprise.

“It would probably be even more so to let him take action on his own. As for taking no action at all, you yourself pointed out that we might be missing a golden opportunity.”

“Claire sounded the alarm,” the doctor observed pensively.

“

She might have done that just because Arvers did not let her into the secret. Her obsession is quite capable of affecting her reason. I’ve been afraid of that all along.”

Dr. Fog, who had had ample opportunity to judge the merits of his assistant and who valued him more highly than ever, agreed to his plan. As was his custom, he allowed him the greatest freedom of action. Austin would keep an eye on the team, study the German offer on the spot, have an interview with Gleicher, and even with the famous Otto, if he thought he could afford to take this risk. Eventually he would arrange a meeting at a higher level. The doctor brought an end to this conversation by advising a policy of caution.

“Don’t forget, Austin,” he said as he showed him out, "that the professionals in our organization would never have employed an agent who had once fallen into enemy hands.”

24

Colonel Count von Gleicher was certainly no savage. He even prided himself, and with reason, on being highly civilized. He was as fond of philosophy and the arts as he was of war. During his week ends at the villa, after he had finished with Arvers and his professional obligations, he would often spend the evenings listening to records of classical music or immerse himself in the works of some great thinker, either ancient or modern. It was these very qualities that had singled him out for an important position in the Abwehr.

He was also a man of absolute rectitude and imbued with a sense of military honor. And so, as he listened for the first time to Arvers’ confession, if his immediate action was mental nausea and his only remark, “Schwein!”, he did not for a moment think of making an exception in this case to the rule he had set himself in his dealings with enemy agents. This was made manifestly clear when his assistant, Otto, stressed the importance of the tape recording in a manner he did not care for at all.

“We know he’s a coward, Herr Doktor. We’ll have no difficulty in getting whatever we want out of him.’’

“We’ll have no difficulty,” Gleicher agreed, looking at him directly, “but remember what I’ve told you. We are not the Gestapo and I did not take on this job to soil my hands.”

“I know your views on that subject, Herr Doktor, and I have nothing but respect for them. But physical pressure was not what I had in mind. Seeing what a coward he is, I think the mere threat . . .”