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“I disagree.” Cardew had moderated his tone, but the simmering hatred was still there. “I read this message differently. I believe a comma should be placed after ‘Col/Dom’ to read ‘to the Col/Dom, Cabinet in Committee in trust George Rex.’ This makes it quite clear that the final authority still resides in Col/Dom as a representative of the Cabinet in London. It identifies the only Cabinet with a general purview as being the one in London.”

Harold Hartley shook his head. “That would rather defeat the whole purpose of the statement in context. Either way we read this, though, it opens an even bigger can of worms. What does ‘The Powers of the Crown will pass through the direct Representative to the Col/Dom Cabinet in Committee in trust George VI Rex,’ mean? The way I see it, the only legally supportable interpretation is the literal one. The authority of the Crown is to pass through the Governor General to the Cabinet; there it is to be held in trust by the Cabinet, sitting as a Committee of Trustees. In short, Your Excellency, the red-hot potato has just landed in your lap and we, your cabinet, can advise you as trustees. And, as you pointed out, we rule here as trustees of the Indian people.”

“Thank you, HH.” Lord Linlithgow hesitated, “I think… in this situation, it is apparent that we have to wait upon developments. His Majesty does nothing without careful thought and I believe the ambiguity of the Daventry Message is deliberate. It authorizes us to either follow London’s lead or strike out on our own as is dictated by local circumstances and the pressure of events. We must take that as our lead and not commit ourselves in any direction, until the way forward is more clearly defined. On that note, I will declare this meeting over. Sir Martyn, will you remain behind for a few minutes please?”

Once the room was empty, Lord Linlithgow relaxed slightly. “You’re right, Sir Martyn. It is clear to me that the Daventry Message gives us the authority to cut loose. What is the present position of the Congress Party?”

“Your Excellency, on independence, they still remain adamant that the working principle should be ‘as soon as possible,’ but this does represent a major shift in their position from the original ‘now’. Nehru is prepared to accept a two year official transfer period. During this time, he will hold the position of your Deputy Viceroy while you teach him everything involved in the post. Might I add, in passing, he and many members of his executive were quite appalled at the amount and variety of work involved in the administration of this country. At the end of two years, the position of Viceroy will be abolished and that of President instituted. Nehru will, subject to elections to be held at a later date, be that President. You will hold the position of Chief of Staff to the President and will continue teaching him how to run the country. Once that transition has taken place, the Cabinet will consist of Indian officials with us acting as advisors and facilitators. This will continue until such time as the new government is running smoothly. Congress expects that to be at least a decade. At some point in that process, India will leave the Commonwealth.”

“That is a remarkable plan.” Lord Linlithgow was genuinely impressed at the acceptance of a drawn-out transfer of power. “I am astonished that Nehru has accepted it.”

Sir Martyn hesitated. “Your Excellency, our discussions were in good faith, both sides wanting what was best for India. We have all put aside our personal beliefs and opinions in pursuit of a solution that would serve the greater good.”

“Does that greater good extend to continuing the war?”

“No, Sir. It does not. Nehru is personally convinced that India should stay in the war as a means of clearly marking the break with London. Getting the Congress Party to go along with him on that will be another matter entirely. For that, we must hope for an act of God.”

Public Bar, The White Hart, Nottingham

“Perhaps they weren’t so stupid, Bert. Perhaps they were very clever people indeed.”

The police officer who had been in charge of the road block a few nights earlier was putting things together very quickly. “They made sure we kept quiet, didn’t they? Put the fear of God into us. And have you heard of their Blackshirt unit? Because I haven’t. They just appeared, took Winnie away and vanished. Nothing we can do about it now.”

“We can lift a glass to them, Alf.”

“Aye, we can do that. And they deserve the toast.”

Foreign Office, Government House, Calcutta, India, 4:30 PM, 29th July, 1940

“Sir Martyn, there are unannounced visitors for you. Sir Josiah Crosby, the British Ambassador to Thailand, and the Ambassador Plenipotentiary from the Kingdom of Thailand.” Sir Martyn Sharpe’s private secretary had a strange grin on his face. “They seek an immediate interview on a matter of the utmost importance to the security of India.”

Sharpe looked up. Sir Josiah was an old friend of many years standing and would be welcome at a moment’s notice at any time. The mysterious Ambassador Plenipotentiary was another matter. Sir Martyn was curious to see what he looked like and, more importantly, what he was up to.

“I will see them both right away. Could you hold them for a couple of minutes, with extreme courtesy, and then usher them in? I wish Sir Eric Haohoa to attend this meeting.”

He picked up the telephone and called Sir Eric. “Eric, Sir Josiah and the Ambassador from Thailand are here. Yes, that one. Could you drop in please? I have a feeling you might want to attend to this.”

Once Sir Eric had arrived, the guests were shown in. To Sir Martyn’s complete amazement, the Ambassador Plenipotentiary was a young woman; short, with close-cropped hair. She was actually quite attractive, although her face exuded power and character rather than conventional beauty. She was wearing the traditional long skirt, tunic and sash of Thai women, but the fabric was deep green silk and the outfit was obviously very expensive. Sir Martyn gave little sign of the surprise that had taken over most of his mind. “Sir Josiah, good to see you again. Madam Ambassador, it is an honor and a privilege to meet you at last. May I thank you for the copy of the Armistice Agreement? So far, it is still the only full copy we have received of that document.”

“I am not surprised.” The Ambassador’s voice was a level contralto.

“If I signed a document like that on behalf of my country, I would want it kept secret as well.”

In the background, Sir Eric snorted with laughter at the quip. He also had been shaken by the identity of the Ambassador, but he was getting a strange feeling that her presence on the scene would liven the situation up no end. And he liked her sense of humor.

“What may we do for you?” Sir Martyn had arranged for tea and refreshments to be served.

“It’s more what the Ambassador can do for you, Martyn.” Sir Josiah sipped at a cup of tea. “Her Highness has acquired a document that is both intriguing and deeply alarming from the point of view of Indian security. How she acquired this document, I do not know but I have inspected it most closely, along with our experts from the Embassy. We have no hesitation in vouching for its authenticity.”

“The document Sir Josiah refers to is a report by one SS Standartenführer Odwin Noth. Essentially, it proposes that Germany’s next move should be a strike through Turkey and the Middle East to assault India. It envisages linking up with one Subhas Chandra Bose and turning India into a German colony. Noth believed that an attack on Russia would be a disaster for Germany and evolved this plan as an alternative. Our sources suggest that this plan was well-received by the highest political circles in Germany. I have both the original document that you may authenticate and an English translation. Personally, I prefer the latter; I find trying to read Fraktur gives me a headache.”