Heathersleigh Homecoming (42 page)

 86 
Change of Plans Aboard the
Admiral Uelzen

Barclay roused himself from the bunk where he had spent the fitful night. As he made his way forward the main deck buzzed with activity.

Commands and conversations in German surrounded him. The commander of the
Admiral Uelzen
had just ordered the periscope up.

As he thought, they were no doubt preparing for final rendezvous maneuvers off the Yorkshire coast. He walked toward his temporary colleague, the Prussian Wolfrik, who stood at the captain's elbow, with a certain feeling of pride to observe in use the system of communication he had himself helped establish.

“Where are we?” asked Barclay in German.

“About three miles offshore, east by northeast,” replied Captain Dietz. “I'll take it now, Corporal Ubel.”

He took the periscope from his officer, leaned heavily on the two horizontal bars, and peered into its lenses.

“What are the seas like?” asked Barclay.

“It has calmed down,” said Dietz, still looking through the glass.

“Good. Why haven't we surfaced yet? By my watch it's well past dawn. We need to get ashore. Has McCrogher been sent out for us?”

“We will remain in position here until the information comes we are waiting for,” now said Wolfrik.

“What information? If the seas have calmed, it's time we were ashore.”

“We won't be going ashore for some time,” said Wolfrik. His tone now took on the ring of command.

“Why in blazes not?” exclaimed Barclay. “I want off this tub and on solid ground. We should have been in contact with the lighthouse long before now.”

“We have been in contact with the lighthouse for several hours. As I said, they are relaying information to us. We have other business to attend to before we can—”

Before he could finish, the commander was interrupted.

“Signal coming through,” he barked. “Lieutenant Altman, take down new coordinates.”

He stood back and the young lieutenant replaced him at the periscope with pad and pencil.

“What coordinates are they talking about?” asked Barclay.

“The location of one of your nation's battle cruisers.”

“What! A battle cruiser . . . what possible—”

“I told you, Barclay—Colonel Spengler is aboard the
Dauntless
, and our assignment is to eliminate him. To accomplish that, we have arranged a little trap.”

“I thought you were going to take him back to the Continent.”

“For what purpose? He is a traitor. He deserves but one thing. To that end, we will send him to the bottom of the Channel.”

“You can't do that! He is just one man on an entire ship.”

“Look, Barclay, I have my orders,” insisted Wolfrik, growing impatient with the conversation. “They are to arrange for the sinking of the ship. Two other U-boats are on their way. When they are in place and we have relayed the information to them, but not before, then we will put in.”

“That wasn't part of the bargain,” said Barclay. “I only agreed to get you across the Channel so that you could get your hands back on your defector. You can assassinate him for all I care, but not sink an entire ship.”

“This is war, you fool,” replied Wolfrik with an evil sneer. “Do you actually think a pawn like you can dictate events and tell Alliance intelligence how to do its job?”

“I will not be responsible for sending hundreds of innocent Englishmen to their deaths.”

“You and your conscience can deal with it any way you want.”

“I tell you, I won't have their blood on my hands.”

“The blood is already on your hands,” Wolfrik spat back. “You betrayed your country long ago. It is a little late for you to turn soft. Events are in motion. You can't stop them. My orders are to sink the
Dauntless
if it arrives before our sister vessels are in position. I am telling you one last time that this submarine is under my command,
and that we will remain here monitoring signals from the lighthouse on the position of the
Dauntless
, whether it takes twenty-four, or even forty-eight hours. So make yourself comfortable, Barclay, and get out of our way.”

“If you sink it, why do you need to get ashore at all?” Barclay said with bitter sarcasm.

“I told you before, there is another matter we will then attend to.”

“You mean there is
more
?” said Barclay in disbelief.

Wolfrik laughed, beginning to enjoy the Englishman's discomfort.

“You don't think we would divulge all our plans to a known traitor. I told you, my colleague and I must get to London once the other U-boats are in place,” he said. “We need to get ashore and about our business.”

Wolfrik's lips parted in an evil grin, then he laughed again.

“Barclay, you are unbelievably naive. I must say I misjudged you. Yes, there is more. You will personally take us to London. If you cause any further difficulties, we will leave you there for the authorities to find, along with your colleague, the young Halifax who has been so agreeable thus far. All the evidence will point to the two of you. They will shoot you both for what they discover you have done.”

“Evidence, what the blazes kind of evidence! What is it supposed to point to?” said Barclay, not believing a word of what he was hearing.

“To the assassination of Churchill and Prime Minister Asquith,” replied Wolfrik with another grin.

“What!”

“Just think—the name Hartwell Barclay will go down in English history books as the traitor and spy who snuck back into England on a German U-boat to carry out one of the most treasonous assassinations in the history of his country.”

“I won't do it!”

“It doesn't matter, Barclay,” laughed Wolfrik. “They will all think you did, and the evidence will be compelling.”

Barclay was too overwhelmed to say another word. He staggered backward as one stunned and crumbled onto a nearby stool.

“Come, come, Barclay,” laughed Wolfrik as if talking to a confused child, “don't tell me you are going to become a patriot now, after you've given us so many of your country's secrets. It is too late for your conscience to start worrying you. You're a fool if you act surprised.”

Barclay said nothing. His betrayal had now returned to land upon his own head. He himself had become a pawn in the larger game which he had always persuaded himself was such a noble cause.

 87 
Deciphering the Clues

Now, what's this about, young lady?” asked Churchill, his eyes animated, the moment they were all seated in his office twenty minutes later.

“I was in Vienna last summer,” Amanda began. “The people that had to do with the pamphlet—”

“What's it called . . . what was it, Jack—you and Admiral Snow were looking into those people . . . something about illumination?”

“The Fountain of Light,” replied Amanda. “I didn't know it at the time I sailed from England, but they have a house in Vienna, and it was there I began to overhear things.”

“Who was involved?” asked Churchill.

“An Englishman named Hartwell Barclay—”

“The blackguard formerly with the Secret Service—of course! I remember rumors about the fellow.—Whatever turned up about him, Jack? He was one of your people. Didn't he turn up missing?”

“He dropped out of sight about a year and a half ago,” replied Secret Service Director Whyte. “There were rumors, as you say, but nothing solid. We looked into it but were never able to turn up anything of substance.”

“And Lady Hildegard Halifax—” added Amanda.

“Right . . . now that I hear the name again I recall there being some question what became of Lady Halifax,” said Snow. “Nobody's seen her for months.”

“Or her son,” added Langham. “I met the chap a time or two. Knew him at Cambridge, then he wrote for the
Mail
 . . . and then suddenly he too disappeared.”

“It's Lady Halifax's house in Vienna that is the headquarters,” Amanda said. “At least I assume that. That's where all three of them were. There were all sorts of people always coming and going. The assassins of the Black Hand were there before the war started.”

“The Fountain people were involved in the assassination!” exclaimed the army's Forsythe.

“I don't think they knew about it ahead of time,” Amanda replied. “But later, one of them called Mehmedbasic was talking about secretly getting to England so he could disappear.”

“He is one of the seven who is still at large, I believe, sir,” Lieutenant Langham said.

“What else, Miss Rutherford?” asked Churchill.

“I overheard talk about bringing people in and out of England.”

“How were they doing this?” Whyte asked.

“I think using a lighthouse, sir. I heard frequent mention of a lighthouse.”

“Have you ever heard the name Spengler, Miss Rutherford?” asked Admiral Snow.

Amanda shook her head.

“Colonel Spengler is assistant to Generaloberst von Bülow,” added Churchill. “He is the head of German naval operations. Colonel Spengler has recently defected to the Allied cause.”

“The other name, the long one you just said, von Somebody . . . that is a name I remember,” said Amanda. “I think he was at the house in Vienna once too.”

“Could they be planning an invasion?” Colonel Forsythe said to Churchill.

“If so, they would certainly stop at nothing to silence Spengler. He would know the whole plan.—But you say they talked of signals to England. Where?” said Churchill, turning again to Amanda.

“I didn't hear anything about a location as long as I was in Vienna, just signals from a lighthouse,” she answered. “But then just two days ago, when I was following Mr. Barclay in Antwerp—”

“You were in Antwerp!” exclaimed Forsythe. “That's behind the lines.”

“I have an Austrian passport,” said Amanda.

“How did you get it?”

“Actually, I stole it when I escaped from the house in Vienna,” she answered sheepishly.

“It sounds like
you
are the spy, young lady,” said Churchill with a wry grin.

“I need to recruit her in the service,” laughed Whyte.

“But go on,” Churchill said. “You have certainly succeeded in getting our attention.”

“In Antwerp I heard the words Hawsker Head,” Amanda said. “It sounded like they were talking about the location of the lighthouse.”

“That's got to be it!” exclaimed Churchill. “That just may be the missing link we've been waiting for.”

“I also heard the word
Dauntless
,” added Amanda.

The three naval men glanced at one another, taking in this new piece of information with serious expressions.

“Hawsker Head is up north, isn't it?” said Whyte, looking about at the others.

“Somewhere on the east coast, I believe,” said Timothy, speaking now for the first time. “Yorkshire, I believe.”

“Is there a lighthouse there?”

“I'm afraid I don't know, sir.”

Churchill glanced over at Langham. “Find out what you can, Lieutenant.”

Langham rose and left the room. When he was gone, Churchill turned to Amanda with a more serious expression than before.

“Your father may be in danger,” he said. “That word you heard—
Dauntless
—is the name of his ship.”

“My father—what is he doing on a ship?”

“I assumed you knew,” answered Churchill. “When the war broke out I asked him to resume his commission in the Royal Navy. He and your brother are both aboard the
Dauntless
at this very minute. They are bringing Colonel Spengler to Scotland. They are probably somewhere off the coast of Norfolk or Lincolnshire by now. We have maintained radio silence because of the delicacy of their mission, so I don't know their exact location. I am scheduled to leave for Scapa Flow tomorrow to meet them when they put in.”

This new information noticeably sobered Amanda and Timothy.

Lieutenant Langham returned in about five minutes.

“There
is
a lighthouse on Hawsker Head, sir,” said the young lieutenant. “Disused for some time, finally sold twelve years ago to a private organization. As far as the records indicate it has not been in use since then.”

“The name of this private concern?”

“The name on the transfer document reads simply ‘The Fountain,' sir.”

“That's it, then!” boomed Churchill, nearly exploding out of his chair. “Let's go. We've got to get to Yorkshire and put a stop to this before these traitors can do any more damage.”

He was already halfway out of the office, with Snow, Forsythe, Whyte, and Lieutenant Langham on his heels, leaving Amanda and Timothy looking at each other in bewilderment.

Churchill paused in the middle of the doorway for the second time that day. This time, however, it was to turn back into his own office.

“Well, come on, young lady,” he said, gesturing impatiently to Amanda. “You don't think I plan to leave you behind now after you've nearly solved the case that has kept us baffled for months? I may need you to identify some of these rascals.—Rev. Diggorsfeld, thank you for bringing her to me,” said Churchill, shaking Timothy's hand once more. He then turned again to Amanda. “Let's go, young lady—we're off to Yorkshire!”