The House of Rumour Read Online Free PDF Page A

developed a sort of competitive flirtatiousness. He was pleasingly tall and slim, if a little too narcissistic for her taste. A broken nose softened his aquiline features. He flicked at the stray comma of hair above his right eyebrow.
    ‘Miss Miller,’ he murmured playfully.
    ‘Commander Fleming,’ she replied, with an edge to her voice.
    She felt determined to see him as her equal, her sense of self-regard reflecting his. She was proud of her good looks, charisma and ambition. Besides, they held similar positions. They were both personal assistants: Fleming to the head of Naval Intelligence and herself to Maxwell Knight, known to everyone in the Service as M, the boss of B5(b), a clandestine subsection of Counter-Espionage. But his being a man meant that he held a military rank while she remained a drab civilian.
    ‘You can come through now, Commander,’ she told him.
    ‘I was just asking Bill,’ Fleming nodded towards M’s Chief of Staff, whose desk was opposite hers, ‘if this is really a good moment to catch the old man.’
    Only the merest of smiles played upon her lips as her bright eyes held him in cold appraisal.
    ‘Oh, he’ll be pleased enough to see you,’ she said, perhaps a little too knowingly.
    M was sitting at his desk, refilling his pipe, when Fleming entered.
    ‘May I, sir?’ Fleming asked, taking out his cigarette case.
    ‘Certainly. How was Lisbon?’
    ‘Very busy, sir.’
    ‘Quite. I’m led to believe by your report that we may have hooked ourselves a bigger fish.’
    Fleming tapped a cigarette out on the flat silver lid. A letter had been intercepted from an academic working for German Foreign Intelligence addressed to a British aristocrat, suggesting some sort of clandestine peace meeting. A reply had been forged in the manner of a lure. Now it seemed a member of the Nazi inner circle was ready to put his head in the noose.
    ‘Perhaps.’ Fleming lit his cigarette. ‘A couple of factors need to be in place before Operation Mistletoe can proceed.’
    ‘A couple of factors?’
    ‘Well, yes. The first involves persuading the other side to believe that the Link is still active.’
    ‘Surely it’s not hard to give the enemy the impression that there remains a strong pro-peace element in the country? Good Lord, the way the war’s been going half the Cabinet seem ready to make terms.’
    ‘Yes, sir, but to convince them there is still this Link organisation, that’s pro-German, even pro-Nazi – there needs to be some evidence.’
    ‘Well, the idea was that we put it out that it had gone to ground since the round-ups last year. Can’t someone from the Double-Cross Committee file a bogus report or something?’
    ‘I’m afraid it has to be something stronger than that, sir.’
    ‘What then?’ M demanded impatiently.
    ‘Something, well, demonstrative, sir.’
    ‘Demonstrative?’
    ‘Yes, sir. Some significant act that would make it seem that there is an effective Fifth Column in operation in the country.’
    ‘Hmm, well, I could put my assistant on to it.’
    ‘Miss Miller?’
    ‘Oh yes. A very effective field officer. She uncovered a whole nest of them last year.’
    ‘Of course. I read the Special Branch report. But won’t she be vulnerable if there are any real quislings left?’
    ‘Hmm, well, let me deal with that. What was the other thing?’
    ‘I’m sorry, sir?’
    ‘The other factor you mentioned.’
    Fleming shrugged as if slightly embarrassed.
    ‘The, er, paranormal aspect of the operation, sir.’
    M laughed out loud.
    ‘Goodness me, Fleming, there’s no need to be sheepish about it. It might all seem a bit far-fetched but isn’t that the whole point of counter-intelligence?’
    ‘The whole point, sir?’
    ‘A story should sound improbable. If it is too logical it’s liable to appear contrived. And, of course, there are powers that we do not completely understand. Greater forms of disinformation, if you like.’
    ‘You mean, you give credence to some