Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [70]
‘Of course. Here’s the point: the woman looked utterly terrified, and the officer couldn’t work out why: all he’d done is pick up an egg. He checked it in his hand: not a mark on it.
But she had made the man suspicious, so he examined the egg more thoroughly. He picked off the shell, and discovered little brown dots on the egg white. When these were magnified, they turned out to be a plan of the troop movements in the whole sector. The Germans had discovered that if they wrote in — oh, what’s the name? —
acetic acid on the shell of a soft-boiled egg, let it dry and then boiled it, then the message would get absorbed, leaving no trace of it on the surface.
‘Now the Germans knew that we discovered this, but they still carried on using the exact same method, without even the slightest variation. It seems to be a quirk of the German character: either a love of routine, or an unwillingness to admit they’ve been bettered. In the end, it was almost embarrassing: the army would constantly be arresting and executing these poor women, just because their superiors wouldn’t change their system. And do you know what? They are still doing it! We’ve discovered German agents doing exactly the same thing three times already in this war.’
Roz frowned. ‘OK. So it’s a clue. So let’s see what it means. What properties do Hugin and Munin have?’
‘They are birds. There are two of them. They are fast and long-range. They have something to do with Odin, or Wotan.
That’s it. Powerful birds: a superbomber,’ Reed concluded.
‘They fly by day. They’re used for spying. Thought and memory. They have magical properties,’ Roz continued.
‘Ah, the codenames are still a bit cryptic. Don’t read too much into them,’ Reed warned gently.
‘George, this is not a bomber. Kendrick is wrong.
Hartung has built two of them, and they are something new, something unique. And we have no idea what they might be.’
‘Excuse me, sister, have you seen anyone suspicious? Two men, one dressed as a German officer; the other an older, smaller man in a linen suit?’
‘Oh, no, Major,’ the nun chuckled. ‘You really are a big lad, aren’t you? Not as big as my Kristian, here.’ The nun giggled.
The major peered at her. The nun was short and middle-aged. She had a bulbous nose and thick eyebrows. Although plain, her eyes and mouth were kindly. There was a German officer escorting her, a man in his early twenties. He was tall, blond, with piercing blue eyes. He was heavily built, like an athlete and he had a thick moustache.
‘I do not recognize you, Leutnant. May I see your papers?’ The nun leaned forward. ‘Young man, this is Kristian. I teach music at the local school, and Kristian looks after me.’ She giggled again, then batted her eyelids at him.
Hastily, the Leutnant decided that the nun must be telling the truth. The Leutnant moved them on. It was getting dark.
In this light, Steinmann looked like the incarnation of evil. He was lit from beneath, the way that Dracula always was in horror films. It emphasized the arch of his eyebrows and the curve of his forehead. His distinguished nose became hooked, and his mouth even more cruel. His skin became grey and lifeless. The shadows made the sockets of his eyes look sunken, and his grey eyes glinted malevolently.
He lit himself a cigarette. He offered Benny one, but she refused.
‘My right hand,’ she said. ‘I have no feeling there.’
Steinmann bent over to examine her hand. Delicately, he unwrapped the bandage and gently stroked the back of her hand. Finally, he took his cigarette from his mouth and stabbed it down just behind the knuckle of her middle finger.
Benny screamed.
‘The feeling seems to have returned,’ Steinmann observed.
When she had finished sobbing, he continued. ‘Fraulein Summerfield, it’s late in the day, and I have to get back to Granville tonight. Events are moving on. You are not a time traveller. That is a lie. Tell me the truth.’ The shadows exaggerated every move of his face, distorting his features still