“What do you expect me to do? Make a pilgrimage to the shrine of my youth?”
“I thought you might have friends there; people you still know.”
“If I do, it would be insecure to visit them. I am here under another name.”
“I’m sorry. Of course.”
“Besides”—a dour smile—”we are not all so prolific in our friendships.”
“You told me to stay with him!” Avery said hotly.
“Precisely; and you have. It would be churlish of me to complain. You do it admirably.”
“Do what?”
“Obey instructions.”
At that moment the doorbell rang and Avery went downstairs to answer it. By the light of the streetlight he could see the familiar shape of a Department van parked in the road. A small, homely figure stood on the doorstep. He was wearing a brown suit and overcoat. There was a high shine on the toes of his brown shoes. He might have come to read the meter.
“Jack Johnson’s my name,” he said uncertainly. “Johnson’s Fair Deal, that’s me.”
“Come in,” Avery said.
“This is the right place, isn’t it? Captain Hawkins … and all that?”
He carried a soft leather bag which he laid carefully on the floor as if it contained all he possessed. Half closing his umbrella he shook it expertly to rid it of the rain, then placed it on the stand beneath his overcoat.
“I’m John.”
Johnson took his hand and squeezed it warmly.
“Very pleased to meet you. The Boss has talked a lot about you. You’re quite the blue-eyed boy, I hear.”
They laughed.
He took Avery by the arm in a quick confiding gesture. “Using your own name, are you?”
“Yes. Christian name.”
“And the Captain?”
“Hawkins.”
“What’s he like, Mayfly? How’s he bearing up?”
“Fine. Just fine.”
“I hear he’s quite a one for the girls.”
While Johnson and Haldane talked in the drawing room, Avery slipped upstairs to Leiser.
“It’s no go, Fred. Jack’s come.”
“Who’s Jack?”
“Jack Johnson, the wireless chap.”
“I thought we didn’t start that till next week.”
“Just the elementary this week, to get your hand in. Come down and say hello.”
He was wearing a dark suit and held a nail file in one hand.
“What about going out, then?”
“I told you; we can’t tonight, Fred; Jack’s here.”
Leiser went downstairs and shook Johnson briefly by the hand, without formality, as if he did not care for latecomers. They talked awkwardly for a quarter of an hour until Leiser, protesting tiredness, went sullenly to bed.
Johnson made his first report. “He’s slow,” he said. “He hasn’t worked a key for a long time, mind. But I daren’t try him on a set till he’s quicker on the key. I know it’s all of twenty years, sir; you can’t blame him. But he is slow, sir, very.” He had an attentive, nursery-rhyme way of talking as if he spent much time in the company of children. “The Boss says I’m to play him all the time—when he starts the job, too. I understand we’re all going over to Germany, sir.”
“Yes.”
“Then we shall have to get to know each other,” he insisted, “Mayfly and me. We ought to be together a lot, sir, the moment I begin working him on the set. It’s like handwriting, this game, we’ve got to get used to one another’s handwriting. Then there’s schedules, times for coming up and that; signal plans for his frequencies. Safety devices. That’s a lot to learn in a fortnight.”
“Safety devices?” Avery asked.
“Deliberate mistakes, sir; like a misspelling in a particular group, an E for an A or something of that kind. If he wants to tell us he’s been caught and is transmitting under control, he’ll miss the safety device.” He turned to Haldane. “You know the kind of thing, Captain.”
“There was talk in London of teaching him high-speed transmission on tape. Do you know what became of that idea?”
“The Boss did mention it to me, sir. I understand the equipment wasn’t available. I can’t say I know much about it, really; since my time, the transistorized stuff. The Boss said we were to stick to the old methods but change the frequency every two and a half minutes, sir; I understand the Jerries are very hot on the direction finding these days.”