Dennis Wheatley - Traitors' Gate

On Sunday morning there was again good news from El Alamein. A British thrust to the north had cut off a large pocket of Germans on the coast; but knowing that the Torch convoys had sailed everybody in the War Cabinet Offices was now anxious and restless.

Instead of supping with Sir Pellinore, at nine o'clock that night Gregory arrived at the Tower. The redheaded Mrs. Wright was on duty and, taking three bottles of port from his attaché case, he suggested that she might like to have a drink with him before he went in to start his interrogation. Like her colleague, she displayed no reluctance, and while they were having it she remarked:

'You won't have long with her tonight, sir, unless you've got the countersign. The gates are shut at ten, and no one's allowed in or out after that, unless they have.'

Having thanked her for the information, he went across to the Governor's office, explained that he wished to spend at least an hour with the prisoner, and was given the countersign for the night, which would allow him to pass out of the wicket gate up till twelve o'clock. But he was warned that unless he was out by that hour he would be locked in till morning.

On returning to St. Thomas's Tower he found that Mrs. Sutton had just come in from an evening off. It was about twenty to ten and she asked him if he had ever seen the Ceremony of the Keys. As he had not, and it was due to take place in only a little over ten minutes' time down in Water Lane, just below the front door, she suggested that he should wait to see it before going in to the prisoner.

They had another drink all round, then went out on to the stone gallery above the pit in which lay Traitors' Gate. At 9.53 the Chief Warder, an ancient lantern in hand, joined the Escort of Troops awaiting him in the archway under the Bloody Tower, upon which Gregory and the two wardresses1 were looking down. Carrying the Keys, the Chief Warder proceeded in turn to the West Gate, the Middle and the Byward Towers. At each, as he locked the gates, the escort presented arms. The party then returned to the archway of the Bloody Tower where it was halted by the sentry with the challenge, 'Who goes there?' The Chief Warder replied, 'The Keys.' The sentry demanded, 'Whose Keys?' The Chief Warder replied, 'King George's Keys.' Upon which the sentry cried, 'Advance King George's Keys. All's well!' And so concluded the ceremony.

'Really romantic, isn't it?' commented Mrs. Wright. 'And just to think it's been done the same night after night for nearly seven hundred years.'

Gregory spent his hour with Sabine, extracting more information from her about Hitler's habits and those of his favourites. He was out of the Tower by eleven twenty and spent a somewhat better night owing to the comforting thought that the build-up for Sabine's escape was proceeding well.

Next morning, at the Cabinet Offices, the little grey-haired

Major telephoned, then came to see him about midday; and he was able to assuage his troubled conscience a little with the thought that he was, at least, the means of providing a mass of high level intelligence data which it would otherwise have been extremely difficult to obtain.

But Kasdar again loomed dark and sinister in his thoughts. He dared not hold out too long on the Moldavian, otherwise all that he had yet done would go for nothing. Steeling himself to it he rang up from a callbox outside on Clive Steps, and asked the Colonel to come down to Gloucester Road that night at eight o'clock.

Kasdar was punctual to the minute. Striving to make his voice sound natural, Gregory said to him, 'I've got it for you, as I promised. D-Day is Monday, November the 9th.',

'Kolossal cried the Moldavian, almost quivering with excitement. 'Now we have really got somewhere. And the objective?'

Gregory shook his head. 'I am still stymied on that.'

'But the one loses nineteenths of its value without the other.'

'I know. But I can't help it. I'll get it for you within the next twenty-four hours. And listen! I've got for you the British Order of Battle.'

'You have!'

'Yes,' Gregory produced from his pocket a list of the Divisions and Brigade Groups that were taking part in the operation. He had compiled it without aid, simply by using his knowledge obtained in the War Room of the formations which had been moved to ports. He had not dared to fake it, as he felt sure that any Military Attaché would already have a shrewd idea of the best trained, fully equipped formations available, and would probably have had his civilian informants identify by their arm flashes those which during the past fortnight had moved up to the North.

After a glance down the list, Kasdar exclaimed, 'This is good! You have done well, my friend! But not well enough. The objective is all important. When can you let me have it?'

'Tomorrow, I hope. Anyhow by Wednesday. And that is the day for which I have planned Sabine's escape. I mean that night. May I count on you to send a telegram giving the word to your tug Captain on the afternoon of Wednesday the 4th?'

'Providing that you have by then given me the objective.'

T understand that; but we cannot afford to postpone our preparations. You are in a position to refuse your aid at any moment, should I fail you. But the preparations must be made. On Wednesday, after lunch, at half past two, I wish you to be at the blitzed entrance to St. Thomas's Hospital, on the south side of Westminster Bridge. I will be waiting for you there. By then, if I haven't given it you before, I'll be able to tell you the objective. But, Wednesday we must definitely meet in order to reconnoitre the approach by water to the Tower, and lower down the river; so that you can decide where you will have your car waiting to pick Sabine up that night.'

After a moment's hesitation, Kasdar agreed. 'All right then. Wednesday, two thirty, outside the hospital, on the far side of the bridge.'

Having got rid of the Moldavian, Gregory went along by Underground to the Tower, arriving there about half past nine. He went straight to the Governor's Office to get the countersign, then again gave the two wardresses a glass of port and watched the Ceremony of the Keys with them. Soon after ten he was locked in with Sabine.

He talked to her until a quarter to twelve; then Mrs. Sutton came to the door to warn him that it was time for him to leave. He said he must have another five minutes, and when he came out he was cursing audibly at having had to terminate prematurely a most promising session of his interrogation. It was only by running for it through the dark rain misted night that he managed to get to the wicket gate in time to save himself from being locked in.

First thing on Tuesday morning, having decided that it would be as well to let Colonel 'Himmler' know how the interrogation was going, he called at the M.I.5 office. That bustling and cheerful officer listened to his report with interest, then said:

'It will take a few days to arrange for her trial, but I see no reason now why it shouldn't be started next week.'

Gregory nodded. 'After another two long late sessions I reckon I'll have sucked her dry; so I should be able to make my final report to your little Major friend on Thursday. In any case I'll be through well before the weekend.'

Having thus ensured against any sudden interference with his plans by M.I.5 during the next forty-eight hours, he walked across the Park to his office. There he learned that the El Alamein battle was still raging furiously. The Germans claimed that Rommel was winning the tank battle but the signals from General Alexander contradicted that, and in the southern sector our infantry had made an important advance, taking many prisoners.

Everyone realized that a great deal hung on the outcome of the battle, but both victories and defeats in the Western Desert were no new thing; so, from the Chiefs Of Staff down to the most junior Major, the whole personnel of the Fortress Basement had their thoughts on the Atlantic.