Read The Spy for Free Online

dimmed by the demands of war. She remembered parties she had attended here, hosted by the Household Cavalry Regiment—chaps who knew how to treat a girl—Protectors to King George VI. She entered the lobby and approached the front desk.
    â€œDo you have a vacant room?” she asked the receptionist.
    The older woman, who was carefully groomed, put down her magazine and looked up. “Just one left, Miss, number thirteen. Seems that no one dare take it, with that number.” The thick Irish brogue left the rest undeclared.
    â€œI’ll take it,” Sinclair said.
    â€œEleven ’n sixpence then, ’n may the ghosts not find you.”
    Sinclair paid for the room. It took most of her cash. With ghosts, it should have been cheaper. The Gloucester was still the Gloucester. Well then! She would enjoy a hot bath! Having collected the key, the girl paused for a moment at the magazine rack. She glanced over her shoulder. Outside in the street, fog was rising. Valerie felt chilled, she could feel it...
    A vibration of some sort ...
    She turned then, and headed for the stairs.
    The Spy looked.
    Frustrated, all he could see was her legs! Squinting into the lobby, the mysterious figure in the trench coat touched his driver’s shoulder. “A clean hit, Ryan,” instructed his employer. “We do not want any witnesses!”
    Ryan nodded, his powerful jaw muscles clenching in the efficiency of the thought. If you walked into a bar and saw Ryan, you wouldn’t want to drink there.
    It was looking like a scorcher.
    Yielding to a hot sun, the veil of mist was burning off the harbor. Valerie opened the windows. She liked having the office to herself, it gave her a sense of belonging. Someday, she would have her own. She had checked out of the Gloucester, where she had enjoyed a solid breakfast. The world was making sense again.
    Lieutenant Carrington called, still delayed, informing her that he was expecting an envelope. He asked her not to open it. Shortly after his call, it came in. It was from Hamilton. She held it up to the light, couldn’t see what it was, and placed it neatly on his desk. The morning passed—strangely, there were no calls—and she was able to finish her files. At 1245 hours, Valerie locked the office, walked down the stairs, and hurried across the yards to the gate, where the guard waved her through. She missed the broad accents and lewd whistles of the friendly American troops, whose loud voices had carried laughter through the streets.
    She entered the Dorothy Cafe, and looked around.
    Commander Hamilton was already there. He came over immediately and escorted her to a back booth. “Well now!” the Commander said briskly, after they were seated. “Unfortunately, we all have to eat.” He had skipped breakfast. “You don’t suppose they might have bacon and eggs, do you?” He stared forlornly at the card. Sausage and Mash? It was one of two. “Let’s see, the fish sounds good....” One left over, from Tuesday.
    A nature lover, she could see the fish swimming: “The fish? Yes, that does look good, doesn’t it?”
    â€œSupposed to be food for the brain, and all that—” He paused, embarrassed at the platitude.
    Valerie waited.
    The Commander placed their orders. They chatted awkwardly until the steaming platters arrived. When the waitress had gone, Hamilton said: “The reason for this meeting is too important to be discussed over the telephone. However, before going into it, I wanted to make sure that you have a proper lunch.”
    He had come, prepared to deal.
    â€œThank you, sir.” They could have had a proper lunch at the Gloucester. She poked at her food, searching for some good bits. Hamilton’s first priority was the mission. He had to find out if she would go. He looked up. “Now, for the trip I have in mind for you....”
    â€œFor me!”
    In response to her startled words,