Chapter 5

The trip into the countryside, followed by a good meal in a riverside pub, was enough to take us down off the high of the day. We didn’t talk about what we had seen, happier to discuss our own past lives. She had known how I went from Barry to Barbara. Now, I found out that going from Adrian to Adrianne was a shotgun blast to the genitals, during a particularly disastrous operation, where two other agents died. She wondered if it had been my father who leaked the details. We would have to wait for Helen to tell us, but I thought that we would need a higher clearance for that.

That night we cuddled together, and I woke the next day with her spooned into my back, her hand resting on my breast. I lay for a while, reveling in the situation, until the bladder took control. Over breakfast, I had a notebook and pen, trying to think of all the things we now had to do. The first was to talk to our gardener, to let him know who was paying the bills. The second was to decide whether Adrianne should give up her home and move in here. The third, for me, was to talk to Gregor.

After tidying up, we sat in the lounge and talked about the recent events. The one thing that had become clear, even without being allowed to see the evidence, was that my father had been a sleeper from his early days. I knew that he had been at Cambridge in the forties, and may have been recruited then, although agency vetting should have looked at him again after the Burgess and McLean debacle. Someone had dropped the ball inside the agency, then based at 54 Broadway, although, at the time it was an ‘old boys club’ and someone entrenched would never be bad. Philby changed all that, in the sixties, but even then, the move from 54 Broadway to Century House may have diverted somebodies’ attention at a crucial time.

My mother was still an enigma, though. Not fully committed to him, but still, on the surface a loving and talented wife. I wasn’t sure that he had killed her now that we knew more about his mind. He may have done something even worse, maybe selling her to a brothel, or giving her away to whoever helped him move the gold. Unless we made sure that we were in the search team, we would never be able to find out. I had an odd feeling about her, in my own mind. That first note had turned my world upside down, and the one in the box added to the turmoil. The problem was that I couldn’t ask her now.

Over the next week we continued to clean and polish in the house. We spoke to the gardener, and he came out to work on the outside, taking in a few suggestions that Adrianne had for plantings. I do believe that he was very taken with her, and probably wondered about a special planting he had in mind. Now that there was nothing covert about the house, we spoke to a company who cleaned and arranged for a weekly spruce up inside. All this vacuuming and dusting had become ‘old’ very quickly, as neither of us were really raised in that world. We also found a local garage who serviced my car, making sure that nothing had gone wrong with its two years in the garage. We then had Adrianne’s car looked at.

In the evenings, we had become regulars at the local pub, attracting the attention of a couple of fit blokes who, obviously, had plans to bring us back ‘from the other side’ if they could. We decided to let them try, but not for a while. It had become a genuine holiday, the first I had enjoyed for some years.

A phone call from Helen summoned us to South Bank. We went in Adrianne’s car, hers having a clearance, while mine would need inspection before it was allowed into the underground garage. Instead of going to her office, we were instructed to go to a meeting room, where we found her, along with Gloria, and the two guys that had come up to the house. They sat around a big table, at the head of which was the boss, with his aides alongside him.

He stood as we entered. I glanced at Helen, who smiled.

“There you are,” the boss said as he came to us and hugged us both. “Take seats and, maybe, we can get some direction out of this situation. Helen, please summarise for our latest arrivals in the higher levels. By the way, girls, your ID will be bumped up before you leave, today. I’ve decided that it’s imperative that you have clearance for this.”

Helen gave a potted history of the two Bond’s record with the agency. She then gave an account of both our shorter records. She then brought everyone up to speed with the failed bullion delivery, and then, using all the evidence that we had found recently, gave an estimated description of the likely events in Nigeria. It took about thirty, very tense minutes, as the boss became more agitated as she continued.

One of the aides was called on next to add any details from the ‘old boy’ perspective. He was, by that time, sweating profusely, and I expect that he was a contemporary of my father, now regretting the drinks at the club he may have attended with him.

That made me think, and I must have shown something in my face, because the boss then looked at me.

“Barbara, you looked as if something has crossed your mind, would you care to enlighten us?”

“Well, sir, I’ve just realised that I never really saw my parents age, but they must have. My father was born in ’25, was at Cambridge in ’44 to ’48. So, he is now in his mid-sixties. Unless he’s a freak, there’s no way he could have shifted two tons of bullion himself, my mother would have had trouble with one bar. This was a retirement project for him, not a means to live on a tropical island with a bunch of bikini babes at his beck and call. He has been a good servant for the Russians, so I would guess that he now has a villa on the coast of the Black Sea. I don’t think he would have mastered the language, so I guess he is in an English-speaking apartment block. The bullion has probably been dispersed among the helpers in Nigeria and the Russians, with enough left over for a good life. I don’t think my mother would have stayed with him, voluntarily, so is either dead or living a ghastly existence somewhere. If she had the means, she would have contacted the agency before now.”

“Well spotted, and close to what we had been discussing before you arrived. We hadn’t zoomed in on a location, though. What do the rest of you think?”

“It’s entirely plausible,” Helen said. “He never liked the winter, so anywhere north would not be a happy place. He is canny enough to be nowhere that we can have easy access, I doubt that he would expect that the robbery scenario would have lasted this long. Luckily, with the passage of time, and the recent discoveries, we can now rule out every other option, other than his theft of the bullion, and his flight to Russia. The only thing that bugs me, is that he liked the social aspect of his life. He may, with the right push, want to visit some brighter lights than Sochi. That may be a chance for us to execute the code red.”

“Exactly, Helen. I want you, and your girls, to mount an operation to flush him out. Recovery of the money, or some of it, would be nice, but not a high priority. Finding his wife would be good, bringing her home would be better. These two agents who looked at the evidence will be at your beck and call, but Bond is a man who could never imagine that a woman is a better agent, so may not suspect one is going to lead to his downfall. You will get a good budget for this. Does anyone have a starting point?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “There is a Hungarian couple in Bulgaria. Gregor and Sofia, who told me that they were long-time friends of the Bonds. They may have picked up on little bits of talk in the past that could pinpoint the location better. I think that Gregor would be angry if we told him that his friend was a Russian spy, and could help us, through the Hungarians, locate our target. I would like your permission to talk to him and reveal whatever it takes to get his assistance. As you know, if you had read all the evidence, he is my birth father and a thoroughly decent man, for a Cultural Attache. I do have a cover that would take me to Sochi if needed.”

“Well said, young lady. That can be the first point of call. Helen, get your section onto this, but keep it quiet within this building. I would hate to think that there are others here, from the era of the Cambridge Five, who could tip him off. Right, let’s get on to it!”

With that, he picked up his notes, smiled at us, and left, accompanied by his aides, one of whom was, I was sure, heading for an interrogation room to find out if they were another sleeper, or just an idiot who had snoozed on the job.

The two guys that we knew came over to us. The older one spoke.

“That was a great thing you two girls did. Getting our hands on the evidence, uncontaminated, was something we hardly ever experience. The contents of the Harlequin box were only slightly damning, but your mother’s diaries exposed him as a liar and cheat. The extra key we recovered turned out to be a deposit box, as we expected, but only contained more passports. The bank records show that it had been accessed just two days before they left the country in the camper. We’ll stay out of your way unless you call. Good hunting.”

They left the room, leaving the four of us. Helen told us to follow her, and we went down to her office, then down the internal corridor, to another door. Inside, I saw a fully equipped control centre, with lots of computer screens and a big table with easy chairs around it. When we were in, Gloria closed the door with a dull thunk, and I knew we were now in a safe zone, probably lined with lead and sound deadened.

Gloria went to a filing cabinet, unlocking it with a key and inputting a number on a keypad. She took out a few thick files, one by one, and laid them in a line on the table. There was one for each of the Bonds and were, I imagine, full details of today’s summary. The third was, I expect, the details of the bullion run. She then closed and relocked the drawer. Then Helen turned to us.

“This room is proof of your new status. It is classified as Top Secret, the existence as well as its contents. There will be nothing, I repeat, nothing, to be taken out of it. You can write notes as you read, but those notes will be added to the file when it’s returned. Now, if you give me your bags and your IDs, I’ll hold on to them and get you your new level entered into the records. It will allow you access to a lot of places in this building, especially after this operation is over. We will leave you to read, there’s a bathroom attached, and I will come for you to take you for lunch.”

With that, they took our bags and left us to it, the door closing now with a rather ominous thunk, akin to having your cell door shutting.

“That’s an interesting morning, so far,” laughed Adrianne, brightly. “This morning we had one good operation under our belt, and now we are in the good books, have Top Secret status and get to read the real information, at the source. I’ll take your parents; you take the bullion grab.”

We sat in the comfortable seats, took our files, and started to read. There was a stack of notebooks on the table with pencils only, so I grabbed one of each and started concentrating. The destination of the bullion did not make any difference to the robbery, so I started from this end. The lead up to them leaving took in the briefings and the precautions to be taken. They left a garage in Tottenham, driving to Dover to take the ferry. They were travelling as a retired couple, off to see the world, with good cover and paperwork. There was a sheet noting the passage through customs, with another of them passing through the French immigration.

Their route took them to Paris, where they stayed in a campsite for several days, and then south, via several tourist spots, to keep the cover going. Going south through France, they seemed to go off track. Instead of following their order to be tourists and meander through Italy and the cross the Med to Egypt, they went south, into Spain, via customs, and then south as far as Almeria. Then, it was on a ferry to Oran. They were two days in Oran, in a camp site, all verified, and then drove south to In Salah. They stayed overnight in a camp site, and then drove to Tamanrasset. It didn’t look like any pensioner trip I could imagine, by this time.

After that, it was a three-day drive to Bourem, in Mali. Then it got interesting. The route now took them southeast to Niamey, then almost directly south to Lagos. The original investigation then showed the discovery of the camper near Abuja. This, to me, looked well and truly odd. It was a good road from Niamey to Abuja, so why Lagos. I got onto the nearest computer and searched for a link with Lagos. After several failed searches, I found that there was an early rail track, a Cape Gauge, no less, that ran from Lagos to Kaduna, north of Abuja.

This was a full twenty-four-hour trip, and it would be a doddle to transfer the gold from one vehicle to another if one was parked behind the other. Where they were, it wouldn’t take much in bribes to make sure there would be a covered flatbed long enough for two vehicles. If my mother wasn’t already buried in the desert sands, she would have no idea that the transfer was taking place. It was this simple fact that made me think that she was still alive, at that point. If she wasn’t there would have been no need for such subterfuge.

I knew that whoever did this investigation would be questioned on this oversight. If the camper was now without the bullion, it was not needed any more. By the same token, nor was my mother. What was needed, now, was a search of passenger lists out of both Kaduna and Abuja. My money was on Kaduna.
I made all my findings clear on the notepad, then tore the sheet off, putting the notepad in the disposal bag, so that the writing impression would never be traced. I sat back and asked Adrianne if she wanted a drink. I went off to the toilet first, and then found a hot drink dispenser, getting us both a milky coffee.

She was still working through his file, so I picked up my mother’s and started with that. We were still looking at the files when the door opened and Helen asked us if we would like lunch, then asked us how we had got on. I asked her to come in and close the door, then took both through my thinking about the trip. When I got to the final ideas, Helen sat back and whistled, while Adrianne got up and hugged me.

My notes were put into the back of the file, and they were put back into the filing cabinet. Then Helen led us further along the corridor to a door, oddly (for this place) with a sign on it that read ‘Canteen’, opening it up and ushering us in. She told us to find a table, have whatever took our fancy, and not to talk to anyone else. Then she left us, no doubt off to appraise the boss of my thoughts.

The Canteen was a good-sized room, with a counter at one end, and chairs and tables set out some distance from each other. A couple of tables had occupants, all girls, who gave us a look as we came in. We had a look at the menu, tacked to the front of the counter, and gave our orders. We sat, well away from the other tables, and talked in low voices.

“Babs, when do you think your mother realised something was wrong?”

“Quite early, I would say, certainly while they were still in France. He may have told her that he had received a message to take a more direct route. She might have stayed fooled until Lagos. I doubt that she would have considered that getting on a train, going away from their destination, was part of the instructions. She may have been drugged, then put on the train as an invalid, I think they may have flown from Kaduna, and, if she was taken, that might give us the edge when we look at the passenger lists.”

Our meals came out and we ate, with gusto, as they were first class. We were drinking tea when Helen came in. She stood next to the table and told us that the boss wanted to see us before she took us back to the safe room.

As we stood, she gave us our new IDs, to be clipped to our collars. They were dark blue, now, like hers, and the occupants of the other tables now looked at us, with more interest, as we left.

This time, she took us up several levels and we found ourselves in a large office with a view across the Thames. He was sitting at his desk as we went in but rose to hug all three of us.

“I don’t know how you girls do it. Without raising a sweat, you revealed one of ours, today, who wasn’t totally one of ours. Not only was he the one who skipped the vetting of our Mister Bond, he was also the one who ‘missed’ seeing that railway connection. He has, as you could say, “Left the building.” This is a case that keeps on giving. Now, I have put a team on searching passenger lists out of Abuja and Kaduna, from the day after the train left Lagos. That’s too time consuming for you girls, you’re needed to keep coming up with new ideas.”

“Sir, we’ve had another since you got our report. We think that my mother may have been drugged at Lagos, or on the train. They should be looking for a couple where the wife needs special attention due to a medical condition, I would think that she was probably in a wheelchair.”

“Good work! I will pass that along. The team is also looking for any areas along the Black Sea coast where there is a predominance of English speakers. That, of course will not be able to be checked until we put someone in the area.”

“I want our girls in Sofia, first,” said Helen. “It’s possible that this Hungarian could provide a lead. They should finish reading through the files today. I’ll organise a flight for tomorrow, and a car to pick them up and take them to Heathrow. Barbara, you should travel as Davina, with Adrianne as your assistant. I don’t want you walking about Sofia on your own, now.”

After a few more words from the boss, we went back down to the safe room. Before she left us to it, again, I asked Helen if I could have a photocopy of the message my mother had left in Teddy. She nodded her understanding. I also asked if she could find out when Gregor and Sofia married. From the files we had already read, I knew that my parents were working in Warsaw in ’63 and ’64.

It was the time that the Warsaw Pact was in its best years, and Mongolia wanted to join it, only to be vetoed. The Russians just put troops on the ground in Mongolia, after that. The thing was that Hungary was also a member of the pact, so would have been a target, not a friend, at the time. This made the affair more interesting and a likely wedge for me to put into Gregor’s armour. I don’t think that his people would be happy with him sleeping with a British spy unless it was operational.

I was born in June, ’65, so the affair took place at the end of ’64. I asked Adrianne to concentrate on my father’s movements between July and December of that year, while I looked at the same period in my mother’s file. Between us, we discovered that he had been in Bucharest from October to December, while my mother had stayed in Warsaw.

That settled, I went back to the trip file and looked hard at the destination. The recipient of the bullion was a well-known despot. At the time he had been wavering between allowing us or the Russians to ‘assist’ him with his country and its advancement. Without the delivery, he leaned towards the Russians. The robbery had a second intent, one that my father, and his contacts, would have welcomed. It may well have been that the bullion had been delivered, but by someone else.

When we left, that day, Helen gave me the photocopy I had asked for, as well as the news that Gregor had married Sofia in Pilis, in the Transdanubian Mountains region of Hungary, in ’74. She had been a drama teacher and they were, by all accounts, a very devoted couple. My parents had been stationed in Bucharest in the late seventies, so that’s probably where they reconnected. He had been stationed in Sofia since ’81.

Back home, we let the gardener and cleaners know that we would be away for a while, then packed our bags as Davina and assistant. We had a night of slow love and deep sleep and were totally refreshed and ready to go when the car came to pick us up, next day.

It was a taxi, driven by the girl who had taken me to Victoria Station, now so long ago. She remained quiet, as did we, on the way to Heathrow, where she dropped us off at the terminal and gave us a little wave and a smile as she pulled away from the kerb.

Here we were, again, about to take off for foreign lands. We checked in, first class, as befitting the Davina cover, and waited until our flight was called, doing a little shopping in the duty-free. Then we were boarded and took off towards another new adventure.

Marianne Gregory © 2023