Cast No Shadow, Peter Sharp [books to get back into reading txt] 📗

woman of about fifty who was typing steadily. She paused and looked up smiling, scrutinising the two intruders through her thick spectacles. Behind the woman was a door obviously leading into an inner office with a sign that again read, ‘Head of Department’. Below it was a location for a second sign, presumably for a name, but it was empty.

“Oh, hallo Mr Addison,” said the lady, “and this must be Mr Kelly. I’ll let Mr Davis know you are here.”

Addison smiled and said, “Thank you Irene,” but Irene was already operating a switch on the control panel on her desk and speaking into a small microphone.

“Please go in Mr Kelly.” She commenced typing again.

“Good luck, Kelly,” said Addison. “I’ll pick you up after your meeting.”

Kelly thanked him, then nodded to Irene, who appeared not to notice, and walked through the door to the inner office.

Kelly drummed his fingers as he waited for the phone to be answered. It was Jenkins’ home number. He had left a message at Kelly’s hotel asking him to ring that evening. There was a click and a man spoke. It was definitely Jenkins, but the voice was curt and serious.

“Jenkins. Who speaks?”

“It’s Dan Kelly, Admiral. You asked me to call.”

“Indeed I did, old chap,” said the Seaman, the tone of voice changing immediately. “Idle curiosity I’m afraid Dan. It’s just that I heard you had had an interview and I wondered how you got on?”

“Well, I think, Admiral,” said Kelly. “The Head of Department has indicated that he feels I can make a contribution to the department and has all but offered me a post.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Jenkins. “You’ll take it I assume?”

“Yes, I will,” said Kelly without hesitation. “Some of it sounds pretty mundane, even boring, but it also intrigues me and there is the chance to travel.”

“Stick with it, Dan, however boring it may appear. Consider it a sort of apprenticeship. Other things will follow.”

Kelly was curious about Jenkins’ last statement, but the old Seaman would not be drawn further. Kelly gave Jenkins a brief outline of the interview, leaving out the bits that he had been warned were secret.

“Davis seems to think that the best way in, is to have my Naval Commission reinstated and then transferred to an Army Commission. They can then have me seconded to the Branch. It all seems rather complicated but apparently it’s a lot quicker and a lot less messy than coming through the Civil Service route.”

“Yes, I can imagine that. Seems eminently sensible to me.”

Kelly was suspicious, he continued, “It appears that I qualify for an immediate promotion to major. He explained it by saying that all of the ranks in Military Intelligence, including the civil servants, are at major equivalent or above.”

“Is that really the case?” queried Jenkins. “I suppose it must be. Still, you deserve it old chap. Your war record speaks for itself.”

“Admiral,” Kelly mused aloud, “did you have anything to do with the promotion?”

“Me!” the Admiral exclaimed. “Hardly, old chap. I seem to carry no influence these days. Civil service pen pusher.”

They spoke for a little while longer before Jenkins closed the conversation by wishing Kelly good luck in his new career, assuming of course that the post was offered. Kelly thanked him but remained deeply suspicious.

The following morning Kelly was summoned to the reception desk of the hotel to receive an incoming telephone call.

It was Davis, Head of G Branch, MI5, formally offering Kelly a post in the G2 Section of G Branch, Military Intelligence.

McFarlane Calls

Breathing heavily, Dragan Kelly slumped down on a rocky outcrop on the top of the hill he had just run up. He surveyed the glistening blue water below and shook his head. Kelly was unsettled. The problem was, he wasn’t sure why.

He considered his position. He had just bathed in the beautiful waters of Cable Bay off the coast of New Providence Island and was about to go to his quarters in Nassau to shower and dress for dinner. He would have a stiff Vodka and then stroll into the dining room for an excellent meal.

Though not wealthy, his salary as a major, coupled with his overseas allowance, meant he was at least comfortable. There was even the opportunity on occasions to practise his boxing at a couple of the gyms in Nassau.

The problem was the ‘day job’. Information gathering turned out to be ninety nine percent boredom and one percent satisfaction.

There had been no training or rehearsal for his new job. Although there had been a one-month induction programme when he had joined G Branch, held entirely within the MI5 building, he had received no formal training to prepare him for his new role. He was taken on as an operative in the G2 section—Information Gathering and Processing—of G Branch and had been strongly encouraged not to make acquaintances within MI5 outside of this section.

After a month of, what turned out to be, ‘Sitting by Nellie’ with most of the operatives within G2, he was delighted to receive notification of a field posting. He was even more delighted when that posting turned out to be The Bahamas. He operated in a government building on the outskirts of Nassau and was quartered nearby in what in effect was an Officers Mess, which he and his two fellow operatives shared with colonial officials.

The three MI5 men were referred to behind hands as the ‘Sneaky Beakies’ and he was often pumped by some of the others as to the nature of his work, but as ordered, he was unforthcoming.

In reality, the work was pretty low-key information gathering. It consisted of intercepting radio and telephone conversations between various people, some of significant ranking, within certain countries where surveillance was deemed necessary. Kelly’s job was then to sift the information and analyse it to find any snippets that could be of value to the British or US Secret Services. Most of the information was useless, but just occasionally there would be a gem. The problem was