Pursuit of Passy Page 8

  ******

  Less than an hour later I was shown into Group Captain Leighton's office.

  “Come in Claydon,” he said. “Have a chair.” I settled myself down.

  He went on, “I sent for you as soon as I heard from it Group about this new development. We've been looking into this business very carefully since you were here last and I'll tell you straight away that the information you gave us about Passy at Abbeville has brought to light a most serious matter.” He must have seen the look of mystification on my face for he smiled slightly and went on, “I know you're wondering what on earth it’s all about but you'll hear in due course. Now, before we go any further, are you absolutely certain that the man in this photograph is Passy?”

  He handed me an enlargement of the photograph I saw in the field that afternoon and it struck me that things had been moving fairly quickly for him to have an enlargement already.

  I looked at the photo again. “There’s absolutely no doubt at all, sir. Every feature of this man is the same. I'm quite positive about it.”

  “Good,” he said. “Well, the prisoners were interrogated and the points you mentioned were put to them. Neither prisoner appeared to see any significance in the questions and they both stated independently that the photograph was taken at Laon Athies on June 12th—four days ago. It was done at the suggestion of the pilot who was a keen photographer and possessed his own Leica. He wanted a photo of his crew so they posed in front of their own Heinkel. The crew got these prints from the squadron photographic section last night and both prisoners left theirs in their room. The pilot must have put his in his wallet.”

  “And Passy? Did they know anything about him, sir?”

  “I’m coming to that,” he said. “Again they seemed quite open about it and saw no significance behind the questions. Neither man knew who he was but the navigator said he had seen him once before in the last few days and also at a café in Laon called the Deux Frères.

  I see no reason to suppose that these men were not telling the truth, so it seems that we have tracked down Passy to some extent—at any rate we know that four days ago he was at Laon.”

  “Why all this interest in Passy, sir? Is it because he shot this man Stephenson?”

  “Oh no,” said Leighton, “I'm afraid there's much more in it than that.” He paused a moment, picked up the photograph and then went on—“I want you to come along now and see somebody else who is interested in this matter. I was told to bring you along as soon as possible.”

  He took his hat off a peg and we went out of the office, down the lift and into the street.

  We turned along Whitehall—I can't say exactly where—and entered a large building. Two men were stationed at the door but apparently they knew Leighton for we went straight in. Leighton stopped for a moment and turned to me. “I must tell you,” he said, “that the identity of the man you're going to see is absolutely secret. You won't even be told his name.”

  We walked on and stopped outside a door. Leighton knocked and the door opened and a girl looked out. She was perhaps thirty years old, with an intelligent, attractive face and she wore a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

  She also knew Leighton for she smiled at him and then turned back into the room and said to somebody within, “Group Captain Leighton is here, sir.”

  “Oh, good,” said a deep voice. “Ask him to step in.”

  Leighton entered the room, paused on the threshold and did a most punctilious salute. He said, “I’ve brought Claydon along to see you, sir.”

  I noticed both the salute and the “sir” and decided that I was about to meet somebody pretty important. I walked in.

  The room was large and pleasantly though simply furnished. The windows were thrown wide open and though it was now after seven in the evening the June sunlight still streamed in on the carpet.

  In the centre of the room stood a large desk and a man was sitting behind it.

  He was neatly dressed in a grey suit and if you saw him in the street you would probably have taken him for a Senior Civil Servant. But there was some compelling quality about the man that impressed you from the very beginning. He was small and slim, with a neat moustache and the tanned skin and creased eyes of one who has spent some years in the East. His forehead was broad and high and some rather thin sandy hair was brushed straight back. His eyes and glance were the most remarkable feature of his face, cool, shrewd, analytical. He gave the impression of quiet authority and competence, and made you feel all the time that you were being subjected to the closest scrutiny and weighing up.

  He looked at me for perhaps five seconds before he spoke.

  “Good evening, Claydon,” he said, “you seem to have got here fairly quickly. I gather you've had a busy day.”

  “Yes fairly, sir,” I said. I began to feel a little more at ease.

  The man picked up a photograph from his desk and turned to Leighton.

  “I gather you've shown this enlargement to Claydon?”

  “I have, sir, and he's quite certain that the man is Passy.”

  “Good,” said the Unknown, “that makes matters rather more simple to start with.” He turned to me. “Now, Claydon, I suppose you're wondering exactly what all this mystery is about —aren't you?”

  “I am, rather, sir.”

  “Well, I'm going to tell you the whole story as far as I know it. You'll see the reason for doing so later. I think I've got all the facts right but Group Captain Leighton will correct me if I go wrong.”

  He paused for a moment and then went on. “In the first place, I don't have to tell you as a fighter pilot about the functions of R.D.F. (Author: Now known as Radar or sometimes Radio Location.) You must have experienced it in action and have some idea of the part it plays in the general scheme of our air strategy.”

  “I have sir,” I said. I thought of the fight only that afternoon when we had been directed with almost uncanny accuracy towards an unseen foe in the clouds by an officer sitting in an Operations Room over sixty miles away.

  “Experiments were first started in this country some years ago,” he went on, “and gradually the many difficulties inherent in it were overcome and it has developed into the reasonably efficient instrument that you know today. Now, this country was the first to start these experiments and we have every reason to believe that we are still a long way ahead of any other country in its development and application to war.

  The Germans don't seem to have had any inkling of this activity—it was a well-guarded secret as you can imagine—until just before the war started when they commenced experiments. But there is no doubt that they still have a long way to go and very many difficulties to overcome before they reach our level.”

  He paused for a moment. I wondered what all this had to do with Passy.

  “The French were also very deficient in this respect,” he went on, “and early this year, February I think, we started the construction of two R.D.F. stations in France. Others were scheduled to follow but the first two were being erected at Abbeville and Combles, north of Peronne. These covered both Amiens which was the principal rail centre for the B.E.F. and also the north-west approaches to Paris.

  “Both these installations were given the code name Python. Combles was Python One and Abbeville Python Two. That's what Stephenson meant when he tried to convey that message to you. He was a signals expert from Farnborough and was in charge of the electrical installation at Abbeville. He knew that if the message was delivered we should recognise immediately who he was and realise the gravity of the position he had discovered.

  “The French were quick to see the possibilities of R.D.F. and they were very interested in it and asked our permission to attach some of their own engineers to our people in order to gain experience in the erection and working of the equipment. We agreed to this but also pointed out the very secret nature of the work and asked that only very reliable people should be sent. They agreed, and shortly afterwards four men were sent along, two for each stati
on.

  “The two men attached to Python Two were Passy and Bolbec, but we aren't concerned with the latter as he's now in this country and we have no reason to believe him anything but a loyal Frenchman.

  “We have questioned Bolbec and also some of our engineers who returned from Abbeville and they say that Passy behaved quite normally during his time there. He worked hard, made himself quite useful and altogether fulfilled the purpose for which he had been sent, that is, to get a good knowledge of R.D.F. Probably he had been told by the Germans to lie low till the moment arrived to strike. Bolbec doesn't seem to have liked him much—he says he was rather surly and difficult to get on with, and extraordinarily avaricious in regard to money matters. Perhaps it was this trait which the Germans used to seduce him.

  “Of course every preparation was made to remove or destroy the R.D.F. equipment to prevent the enemy capturing it. Three days after the German attack started we were so concerned about the general situation that we sent out an officer from England specially to supervise the destruction of equipment if it became necessary. The signal to commence demolition was sent on 18th May and it was carried out very thoroughly. The officer returned to England and made his report, and there is no doubt that the enemy have drawn a blank as far as the R.D.F. equipment is concerned.

  “The rest of the engineers only just got away in time, and in the confusion they missed Stephenson. Evidently he had gone back to his office to collect some papers or files. We have established, by the way, from the description in your previous statement that the room where you found Stephenson was in fact the office he had been using.

  “What happened then we can only guess, but it seems certain that these two German officers had been sent on ahead as far as possible to contact Passy and help him to prevent demolition of the equipment. It was certainly a pre-arranged rendezvous and not a chance meeting, and this is confirmed by the details you noticed about their uniform. The black collar patches and shoulder straps are the insignia of the Waffen S.S. who are a very special organisation originally formed as Hitler's bodyguard. They are often used now for tasks of this sort which are considered to be particularly dangerous or important. They comprise some of the toughest and most ruthless thugs in the Nazi Party and if there's any dirty work to be done you generally find them involved somewhere.

  “As soon as they met Passy, he probably told them that the equipment had already been destroyed—he must have been aware of that—and so they went straight along to Stephenson's office to see if they could pick up anything there.

  “They found poor old Stephenson and probably beat him up to get some information from him—the way his face was battered confirms that—and then shot him to stop any information getting back to this country. And that's the point at which you appeared on the scene.”

  The man sitting at the desk paused and turned to the Group Captain.

  “I think I've got the facts right so far, Leighton?”

  “As far as we know, absolutely right, sir.”

  The Unknown addressed me again. “Now Claydon, you're probably wondering what all the fuss is about. The R.D.F. was destroyed; no documents of any importance were left behind. It all seems quite satisfactory at first glance doesn't it?”

  “It seems so, sir,” I said.

  He went on, speaking very slowly and emphatically. “But don't you see that Passy has accumulated all this knowledge of R.D.F. and is now going to apply it for the benefit of the Hun?”

  “But could he be of much use, sir, without plans of the equipment? Or is it possible that he has been able to make a copy or photograph them?”

  “No,” said the Unknown. “He never had access to any plans. We're satisfied on that point. But he has considerable experience of R.D.F. under working conditions and he knows some of the snags in it at present. For instance, you may be aware that it's not at the moment very effective in locating low flying aircraft. (Author: This was in 1940, and enormous strides have been made since then.)

  He knows that and a lot more besides. What we're afraid of is that he will be used by the enemy to advise them in their R.D.F. research. They're now very interested in it and are making tremendous efforts to catch us up, though they are still several years behind.

  “But suppose they have an expert to advise them who knows all our methods of working R.D.F., who will help them to short-circuit all their difficulties by telling them the remedy which perhaps took us months of experiment and modification to discover. They may in a few weeks make the same progress that took us a few years.”

  He spoke to the Group Captain again. “I don't think that’s pitching it too high, Leighton, is it?”

  “No, sir,” said Leighton. “It’s one of the most disturbing of all the problems that have cropped up as a result of the French crash. Both the War Cabinet and the Air Staff are very concerned about it.”

  I could see myself from the gravity on both men's faces how serious was the position.

  “It’s incredible, sir,” I said, “that the French should have allowed a man like Passy to wriggle himself into such a vital position.”

  “I know,” said the Unknown. “I know. A month ago I wouldn't have believed it possible but in the last few weeks we have had so many cases come to light, and proved beyond any doubt, of slackness, inefficiency and corruption in France that now I'm prepared to believe almost anything. Passy knew what he wanted and he will have been provided with ample funds for the purpose, which is always a help in France.

  “As an example of what's been going on there—you've probably heard of the Paris newspaper Paris Soir? You have. Well, for the past three years they have had a very smart and efficient Commissionaire. Three days ago when the Germans entered Paris he donned the uniform of a German officer, marched into the editor's office and is now running the paper for the enemy. That's just one instance for you. There are plenty more.”

  Another point occurred to me. “If Passy has all this knowledge, sir, won't the damage already be done? Surely he will have made a report to the Germans by this time?”

  “I think that's very probable, in which case the Hun will certainly possess some knowledge on the subject and some damage will have been done, as you say. But you must remember that this is a highly technical and complicated subject, and there is a limit to what you can sit down in a chair and write about it. What we're afraid of is what you might call his long term value to the Hun, his expert research and advice to the German scientists who are working on the matter, and to do that we reckon that he will have to go to Germany, probably either to the Luftwaffe Experimental Station at Rechlin or else to one of the big German electrical concerns whom we know are engaged on this work—Siemens Schuckert or Telefunken in Berlin for instance.

  “We know at any rate, from your very lucky recognition of that photograph that he was still in France four days ago, though of course he may have moved in the meantime. However, affairs in France are very disorganised at the moment and the Germans have a tremendous job on their hands trying to get it straight again, and therefore we think it’s just possible that they haven't got Passy's role settled yet. The question may already have been referred to Berlin and now be waiting their decision. In any case they'll rope him in very soon—we're under no delusions about that—and once he's in Germany the damage is done.

  “So that, very briefly, is the position. Walking about France at the moment is a man—a traitor if you like—with all this priceless knowledge in his head which is shortly going to be transferred to Berlin.”

  I began now to understand many things that had been a mystery before; the urgency of Stephenson's last message as he lay lying on the floor; the reason that Passy had tried to kill me; and why there had been such a swift response by Air Ministry to my report that afternoon about the photograph.

  The Unknown went on, “Let’s look at another aspect of this matter. You know as well as I do that in all our history this country has never been in such a grave position before. Nothing in the last war
was comparable with the present situation—we have no allies now that France is gone, and virtually no army because all our equipment has been lost and the crisis is coming before we can replace it.”

  He spoke very slowly and tapped the desk with his pencil. “Once the Hun gets some troops ashore at Dover and establishes a bridgehead—we're sunk. We simply can't stand up to him on dry land and therefore we've got to stop him landing.

  “It is, I know, the agreed opinion of both the Prime Minister and the Chiefs of Staff that the main assault on this island may commence in a few weeks. When it does the Navy will put up a tremendous fight in the Channel but they'll be working in narrow waters under constant dive bombing from the French coast and they're bound to suffer tremendous losses.

  “Our main—our only hope—is our small fighter force which will be outnumbered about five to one. On the other hand, we have one or two assets left, firstly some good aeroplanes and also the R.D.F. By this means we hope to compensate for our lack of numbers by giving our few squadrons ample notice of approaching raids, and enabling them to make a very high proportion of interceptions, whatever the height, whatever the cloud conditions. We hope this means that our fighters will play a part in the coming battles that is out of all proportion to their actual numbers.

  “That’s our trump card. We're staking practically everything we've got on you fellows and the R.D.F., and so you can see why we've got to keep this secret to ourselves.

  “We’ve got to maintain our lead over the Hun and we've got to stop him, hearing of any shortcomings in our present equipment which he would take advantage of. In other words, we have got to stop Passy going to Berlin, or anywhere else for that matter.”

  He laid on the desk in front of him the pencil he had been playing with, and looked me very straight in the eyes. “And that is why we brought you here Claydon. We intend to kill him and we're offering you the job.”