The Unlikely Spy(154)

He assumed the spies had to meet the submarine before dawn; it would be too dangerous for a U-boat to remain on the surface near the coast after first light. It was possible the U-boat might put a landing party ashore in a rubber dinghy--that's how the Abwehr inserted many of its spies into Britain--but Vicary doubted they would attempt to do so in heavy seas. Stealing a boat was not as easy as it sounded. The Royal Navy had seized almost everything that could float. Fishing in the North Sea had dwindled because coastal waters were heavily mined. A pair of spies on the run would have a difficult time finding a seaworthy craft on short notice in a storm in the blackout.

He thought, Perhaps the spies already have a boat.

The more vexing question was where. From what point along the coastline would they put to sea? Vicary stared at the map. The Y Service could not pinpoint the exact location of the transmitter. Vicary, for argument's sake, would choose the precise center of the large area they had given him. He traced his finger along the map until he came to the Norfolk coast.

Yes, it made perfect sense. Vicary knew his railway timetables. A spy could hide in one of the villages along the coast and still be in London in three hours' time because of the direct train service from Hunstanton.

Vicary assumed they had a good vehicle and plenty of petrol. They had already traveled a substantial distance from London and, because of the heavy police presence on the railways, he was virtually certain they had not done it by train.

So how far from the Norfolk coast could they possibly travel before getting into a boat and heading out to sea?

The U-boat would probably come no closer to shore than about five miles. It would take the spies at least an hour to sail five miles out to sea. If the U-boat submerged at first light, the spies would have to set sail no later than about six a.m. to be on the safe side. The radio message was sent at ten p.m. That left them eight hours of potential driving time. How far could they travel? Given the weather, the blackout, and the poor road conditions, one hundred to one hundred and fifty miles.

Vicary looked at the map, dejected. That still left a huge swath of the British coast, stretching from the Thames Estuary in the south to the River Humber in the north. It would be nearly impossible to cover it all. The coastline was dotted with small ports, fishing villages, and quays. Vicary had asked the local police forces to cover the coast with as many men as they could. RAF Coastal Command had agreed to fly search missions at first light, even though Vicary feared that was too late. Royal Navy corvettes were watching for small craft, even though it would be nearly impossible to spot them on a rainy moonless night at sea. Without another lead--a second intercepted radio signal or a sighting--there was little hope of catching them.

The telephone rang.

"Vicary."

"This is Commander Arthur Braithwaite at the Submarine Tracking Room. I saw your alert when I arrived on duty, and I think I may be of some rather serious help."





"The Submarine Tracking Room says U-509 has been moving in and out of the waters off the Lincolnshire coast for a couple of weeks now," Vicary said. Boothby had come downstairs and joined Vicary's vigil in front of the map. "If we pour our men and resources into Lincolnshire, we stand a good chance of stopping them."

"It's still a lot of coastline to cover."

Vicary was looking at the map again.

"What's the largest town up there?"

"Grimsby, I'd say."

"How appropriate--Grimsby. How long do you think it would take me to get up there?"

"Transport section could arrange a lift for you, but it would take hours."

Vicary grimaced. Transport maintained a few fast cars for cases just like this. There were expert drivers on standby who specialized in high-speed chases; a couple of them had even competed in professional races before the war. Vicary thought the drivers, while brilliant, were too reckless. He remembered the night he pulled the spy off the beach in Cornwall; remembered barreling through the blacked-out Cornish night in the back of a souped-up Rover, praying he would live long enough to make the arrest.

Vicary said, "How about an airplane?"

"I'm sure I could arrange a lift for you from the RAF. There's a small Fighter Command base outside Grimsby. They could have you up there in an hour or so, and you could use the base as your command post. But have you taken a look out the window lately? It's a god-awful night for flying."

"I realize that, but I'm certain I could do a better job coordinating the search if I was on the ground there." Vicary turned from the map and looked at Boothby. "And there's something else that's occurred to me. If we're able to stop them before they send Berlin a message, perhaps I can send it for them."

"Devise some explanation for their decision to flee London that bolsters the belief in Kettledrum?"

"Exactly."

"Good thinking, Alfred."

"I'd like to take a couple of men with me: Roach, Dalton if he's up to it."

Boothby hesitated. "I think you should take one other person."

"Who?"

"Peter Jordan."

"Jordan!"

"Look at it from the other side of the looking glass. If Jordan has been deceived and betrayed, wouldn't he want to be there at the end to watch Catherine Blake's demise? I know I certainly would. I'd want to pull the trigger myself, if I were in his shoes. And the Germans have to think that too. We have to do anything we can to make them believe in the illusion of Kettledrum."