Oliver took up the account. “When the war started, Imogen was as loyal as anyone to her country. Then, when the Blitz happened and so many died, including some of her dearest friends, something changed inside of her. When Paternoster Row with all its books was incinerated, that change became complete. I don’t know why that particular event did it, but I think she saw the collapse of all she loved in the destruction that happened that night. And she began going to meetings, and those meetings led to her consorting with certain people, who were determined to exploit connections that she had.”
“What sorts of connections?” asked Molly.
Bryant said, “Her father, John Bradstreet. Before he retired and bought this bookshop, he was a long-serving statesman of the top tier, including at the War Office, the author of serious political works, and a welcome visitor in the homes of many distinguished public servants. After he died, Imogen was still very much a welcome guest in those places. She was astonishingly bright and as engaging a conversationalist as you would ever encounter.” He looked once more at Oliver.
“Yes, well, it got to the point, you see,” said Oliver, “that she began working for the Germans.”
When Molly looked shocked, Oliver said quickly, “Oh, she had no love of Hitler and his disgusting fascism, Molly. She had convinced herself that she was doing the right thing by England. By helping Germany so that the bombings and the destruction and the dying... would stop. Remember, this was before the Americans entered the war, and we were fighting virtually alone. She truly believed that England would remain free and autonomous even if the Nazis took over all of Europe.”
“I see,” said Molly. “But this information helped Germany. People died because of it.”
“Yes, they did, Molly, a fact that Imogen had to eventually confront. Anyway, she performed this work for quite some time. And I was apparently too much of an idiot to see it. But she was ever so much smarter than I am.”
“You probably could never believe that she would do that,” said Molly quietly, watching him closely.
“I certainly couldn’t equate the loving, caring, highly intelligent woman whom I loved dearly being complicit with the Third Reich.” He paused and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “And then one day she had me come in here and sat me down in this very chair. And she took my hand and she told me... everything. All of it. Her spying, her treachery, all of it.”
He looked up at Bryant, who stared stolidly back at him.
“A shock for you, old man,” the major said.
“And incredibly painful for her to confess,” noted Oliver.
“What did you say to her?” asked Molly.
“I don’t quite remember, Molly. It’s all rather a muddle in my head.”
“What’d you do, guv?” asked Charlie.
“It was not so much what I did, Charlie. But what Imogen proposed that I do.”
“What was that?” asked Molly.
“Help her spying efforts.”
“I... don’t understand,” said Molly, clearly taken aback by this statement.
Oliver glanced at Bryant.
The major said, “Imogen was one of only a very few British spies working for the Germans, at least that we knew of. And the Germans needed people like her. They exploited her, but now Imogen, having gained their full confidence, was going to exploit them back.”
“That sounds like a very dangerous scheme,” said Molly.
Bryant said, “It was. But Imogen could be a very formidable opponent in her own right. We all attended Oxford together. In fact, Imogen was in the first class of women to be awarded a degree from there. We would hold informal debates at university, the ladies against the gents. Imogen regularly wiped the floor with us. Right, old man?”
Oliver smiled weakly and said, “Yes, quite regularly in fact. She used these skills to convince Cedric and others that I had been working with her all along. We met with them and they became convinced of my loyalty, because Imogen knew exactly what she and I needed to say to make them feel that way. You see, she had read the Germans like a book, just like she read all other books. So I began ‘working’ for them, too.”
Bryant said, “But the difference was that Imogen also came to me and explained the whole plan.”
“Including what she had done previously?” said Molly.
“The whole plan, Molly,” interjected Oliver. “The last thing Imogen was trying to do was avoid the consequences of her earlier actions. She just wanted to make things as right as possible by now working for her country.”
“Why’d she change her mind?” asked Charlie.
“I actually think it might have had something to do with me,” said Oliver thoughtfully. He touched his arm where it had been burned. “As an air warden I very nearly died one night. I remember her sitting beside my bed in hospital while I recovered. Just holding my hand and saying how sorry she was. And when I was finally able to return home, she told me the truth. I can’t begin to imagine how much courage it took for her to do that.”
“You really must have been quite stunned,” said Molly.
“I was many things, Molly, and, yes, that was one of them. So working with Major Bryant here, we regularly fed false information to Cedric and he, in turn, communicated that to Germany. And Cedric would bring me and Imogen false intelligence with the understanding that we would pass it on to Major Bryant, who he knew we were close with. Which we did, but we also told him it was rubbish, of course. And we continued to disclose to the major all we knew about Cedric and his operation. After Imogen... died, I kept ‘working’ with them on my own.”
“We knew something was up before tonight,” said Molly.
Oliver shot her a puzzled look. “How could you possibly?”
Charlie said, “Like I told you, I saw that bloke, Cedric, here late that night when I come ’round. He gave you some papers. And when you come to my flat the next day I followed you, saw you meet with Cedric at his place. When you come out you had some papers you was puttin’ in your pocket.”
Molly added, “And very late at night we saw you slip an envelope in his letterbox when you were wearing your air warden uniform.”
“My God,” said a shocked Oliver.
Charlie added, “And I got into his place and found the book with the pages cut out, and this machine what looked like a typewriter, but ain’t.”
An amazed Bryant said, “It’s the device the Nazis use to send encrypted messages via radio signals.” He paused and smiled. “Blimey, if you were both a bit older we might just enlist you for MI5.”
Molly said, “We didn’t know what to do. But we couldn’t believe you were involved in anything bad. Or if so it was against your will.”