The Hornet's Sting (26 page)

Amid all this suspicion, Sneum travelled to an evening rendezvous with Christophersen in the first-floor apartment at Noekkerosevej. Sigfred’s task would be to send the message after Tommy had encoded it with numbers, using variations from one of three sources chosen back in England. The first of these sources was a thirty-nine-letter word that Sneum had learned as a youngster in order to impress his family and friends. It was a medicine called Monobromisolvalerianylkarbamidtabletter, used by his father for his heart condition. Now it could prove to be a lifesaver for Tommy. The second was a Danish love poem, ‘Gaeld’, by Erik Bertelsen. It told of a man who was financially poor but romantically rich. The third was
Robinson Crusoe
by Daniel Defoe. It was such a popular book that you could buy the same edition in England and Denmark, without updates or corrections to confuse the code. It was this novel which formed the basis for Sneum’s first coded message. The procedure was simple: Tommy gave the British specific page, line, word and letter numbers, and so created new words.

Christophersen and Sneum were not allowed to know each other’s code type or source. But both men knew that each message had to be preceded by a personal two-letter, pre-code ‘signature.’ This was a further safeguard against any attempted impersonation of MI6 agents by the Nazis. Tommy quickly noticed that Christophersen had started to transmit without his pre-code signature so he forced him to begin again, adding to the strain on the radio man’s nerves. The evening silence had already done much to unsettle Sigfred. It seemed that every tap he made on the Morse key-pad created an explosion of sound that he feared could be heard halfway down the street. Unfortunately, there was little they could do to drown out the clatter of his work. ‘Christophersen’s hand began to tremble uncontrollably,’ claimed Sneum later, painting a picture of a man who wasn’t always as brave as he wanted to be. ‘He was already doing what most Danes didn’t dare to do, but he got afraid as soon as there was any danger. And I couldn’t have that.’ Christophersen seemed to fear that the Danish police or even their German masters might locate them as they transmitted.

‘For Christ’s sake, get a grip on yourself,’ hissed Sneum with a glare.

‘The equipment’s so loud,’ whispered Christophersen. ‘It’s not safe.’

‘But you always said you’d be safer in Denmark,’ said Tommy, taunting. ‘Well, now you’ve learned something. If you’re working with me, you’re not safe anywhere. Now finish the message.’

Christophersen must have seen something in his partner’s eyes which scared him, because he continued, albeit in a Morse style full of stammers and stutters. It might have sounded confusing to those back in England who were used to his normal Morse hand, but Sneum knew it was better than nothing.

Once Christophersen’s shaking fingers had finally completed the communication, both men waited for a response from England. There was none. The poor quality of their British equipment hadn’t helped. The transmitter was bulky and heavy, weighing around twenty kilos. Hard to operate, it could be used only with an alternating current; at 7.5 watts. For reliable transmission and reception, a good aerial was also essential; they didn’t have one. Tommy recalled: ‘We had this ridiculous transmitter, which wasn’t powernough. It was heavy, it was piss-poor and Christophersen wasn’t achieving contact. As far as I was concerned, it was his fault and the transmitter’s fault.’

In the hope of receiving some kind of acknowledgement, Sneum ordered Christophersen to send the message again. He complied, but by now his nerves were in tatters. Once he had finished the transmission, tears poured down his cheeks. ‘I’ve had enough, I’m going home to see my parents,’ he said at last.

‘No, you’re not,’ Sneum said firmly. ‘Not if you want to live.’

S
TILL FEELING PAIN FROM the cracked bone at the base of his spine, Tommy left Oxlund’s apartment a worried man. Later he called Kaj and asked his friend to keep a close eye on Christophersen. ‘If he doesn’t get a grip, we’ll have to kill him,’ said Sneum. ‘He could jeopardize the whole mission.’

Sneum sought the opinion of another trusted associate, his brother-in-law, the police detective Niels-Richard Bertelsen. Their conversation reminded Tommy just how high the stakes were. He learned that, in his absence, his entire family had been questioned by the authorities about his escape. Fortunately the Germans and the Danish police all thought he had been killed in the Hornet Moth. But if Christophersen were arrested, as seemed possible because his nervousness must already have aroused suspicion, Sneum felt sure that his own cover would also be blown. And then the people he loved could face worse interrogations than they had already endured. Bertelsen reluctantly agreed that they might have to kill the radio operator and find a more reliable accomplice:

Before they took such drastic action, however, Bertelsen and Sneum decided that Christophersen should be given one last chance to recover his nerve.

The more Tommy thought about it, the more determined he became that London should pay for any new transmitter he might be able to acquire. The British had sent agents into Nazi-occupied territory with primitive equipment; now they should make amends.

His next meeting with the lawyer Aage Park, at his offices in Dronningens Tvaer Gade, would show whether the British were serious about backing the young men they had sent into such terrible danger. Tommy was politely shown into Park’s office by the same pretty secretary who had caught his eye before. Once again he spoke the code words required of him.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Park casually. ‘I may have better news for you.He took a little notebook out of a drawer in his desk, studied it briefly, replaced it and excused himself for a moment.

Tommy recalled:

Tommy didn’t know precisely what it all meant, nor how much the British knew about Swedish operations. Was Park also a paymaster for the Swedish Legation in Copenhagen? If so, he had just gone down a notch in Tommy’s estimation, as the young spy was less than impressed by Denmark’s Scandinavian neighbors: ‘The Swedes were pro-German in my mind at the time,’ he said later. ‘Although I may have made a mistake about that.’

Oblivious to the fact that his carelessness had just compromised the security of an entire spy ring, Park handed over a small envelope. Tommy quickly counted the cash and looked questioningly at the lawyer, who shook his head and shrugged his shoulders to make it clear that there would be no more for now.

With the meeting over, Sneum returned to his flat to reflect on what had happened. He carefully wrote down the names ‘Wahlqvist’ and ‘Runerheim’, and added some of the others still in his mind. This helped him recall several addresses he had seen alongside the names. Once he had memorized all the information, he destroyed the piece of paper. ‘I didn’t know how these names would come in useful,’ he said later. ‘I just thought they might.’

Far more important, for now at least, was the money. It wasn’t much, given that he needed a better radio, funds for future intelligence-gathering operations, and of course his daily living expenses. But it would have to suffice for now.

For all the pleasure and comfort she gave him, Emmy Valentin was worth even more to Tommy for the social contacts she had among the upper reaches of the German command in Denmark. ‘The Princes had completely wasted Mrs Valentin’s contacts among the Germans in my opinion,’ he reflected later. ‘She had known all kinds of high-ranking officers, even in German Intelligence, because her husband had been German Consul in Kalundborg. Those officers invited Emmy out and they were generous. Hitler paid.’

Sneum was keen to tap into this gold-mine and, as he now had a strong bond with his hostess, he was in a perfect position to take advantage. ‘Would you mind living a little more dangerously?’ he asked her.

‘No, Tommy,’ she said with a mischievous smile. ‘I don’t think I would mind at all.’

Sneum thought he detected a flicker of anger, perhaps even jealousy, in Hans Lunding when the Danish Intelligence officer visited Emmy one day and found the younger man sitting comfortably in her ground-floor apartment. Worse for Lunding, he had to pretend he didn’t know Tommy, and he showed such formal courtesy that the spy almost burst out laughing.

His mood was not so buouyant a few days later when he stepped on to a tram and bumped straight into his wife, Else. Tommy recalled: ‘We just looked at each other in complete astonishment.’ When he had climbed into the Hornet Moth and taken off for England, he had never expected to see Else again. If the flight didn’t kill him, he imagined the war probably would. Even when he had survived above the North Sea and accepted his mission back to the Danish capital, he knew that Else belonged to another, forbidden world. British-run agents weren’t supposed to contact their families when they went home, and this safeguard would have suited Tommy just fine where his wife was concerned. But an oversight had changed all that, and threatened to ruin everything. ‘I realized that she must have been visiting her sister, who lived right by the main canal in Christianshavn,’ said Sneum. ‘Somehow I had forgotten about her.’

Tommy didn’t know what to say, and they shared some awkward moments until the tram reached the next stop. ‘Then I told her, “You’d better come with me,” and we went to a restaurant.’

Sneum was terrified that his presence in Denmark would now become common knowledge, only a few weeks into his mission. He sat his wife down and looked her in the eye. ‘If you talk about this to anyone, you’ll be interrogated by the Germans, and that will mean instant death for me,’ he said.

Else demanded to know where he was living, but Tommy refused to tell her. Nevertheless, she was determined to see him again, and was clearly prepared to overlook the fact that her husband had lied about sailing to America in search of work.

‘We can’t see each other,’ said Tommy.

A defiant Else reminded him that he had a six-month-old daughter, who was at her sister’s house at that very moment. She insisted that he come to see Marianne immediately. Tommy was convinced that Else would cause even more of a scene if he didn’t comply, so, within an hour, he was playing with his baby daughter while Else repeatedly swore her sister to secrecy.