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On reading these through he thought that they were pretty good. There was nothing like carrying the war into the enemy's camp and surely the first line of defence against murder was to state categorically that it was not murder at all but justified killing in the execution of one's duties. Officially, of course, the British Legation could not give any assistance to a secret agent but, for once, he felt that his entirely unofficial position should stand him in good stead. His situation was that of an ordinary British citizen travelling in Holland who had got himself into trouble, and it was incumbent on his Legation to investigate the matter and see that he received fair play.

Sir Pellinore would probably storm and rage when he got his telegram. Anxious as Gregory was, he smiled as he imagined the sort of thing that the elderly baronet would say: 'There's that damned feller—can't move ten yards without killing somebody or getting them killed on his account, and now he's had the impudence to drag me into it.' But Gregory felt quite certain that however annoyed Sir Pellinore might be he would get on to the Foreign Office immediately and pull every available wire which might ring a bell in that most intelligent and powerful of British institutions.

So far, so good, but there were two thoughts which made Gregory extremely uneasy. He had seen quite enough of the new German methods of warfare in Norway to be under no illusions as to how a Blitzkrieg worked. The Germans were already attacking Rotterdam from the sea and bombing the Dutch airports; within a matter of hours landings by parachute-troops could be expected and these together with the innumerable Fifth Columnists that the enemy had established in Holland, would be destroying all communications; so it was highly probable that neither of his telegrams would reach its destination.

Further, while he was sitting in his cell, Queen Wilhelmina was probably signing a proclamation placing the country under martial law. In that case any civilian who killed a member of the armed forces or of the police would be liable to be tried by court-martial and summarily shot. By morning, therefore, he might find himself in the last and stickiest corner of a career which had already had far more than its fair quota of sticky corners;

Having given the police time to cool down he banged upon his cell door and, on the warder's appearing, asked him to fetch the Inspector, whose name, he learnt, was Fockink. Some quarter of an hour later the Inspector arrived and inquired what he wanted. He produced the two telegrams that he had written out, together with a 50-gulden note, and asked for them to be sent off at once.

The Inspector, like most educated Dutchmen, could understand English. He read the messages through and was visibly impressed on seeing that one asked the assistance of the British Foreign Office, and that the other was addressed to the British Minister at The Hague. He had not forgotten the manner in which Grauber had threatened him if he refused to send for his superior and the fact that bombs were still falling did not make him feel any love at all for the Germans, so he said quite civilly:

'I'll send these off if I can, but there's so much trouble in the city now that I'm afraid it's very doubtful if they'll get through.'

'Have the Germans succeeded in penetrating from the harbour to the centre of the town, then?' Gregory asked.

'No; but they must have had scores of agents living here, as fighting seems to have broken out in half a dozen places. One party has seized the broadcasting station and another attempted to storm the telephone exchange. Troops and police are trying to round them up now but they must have had secret stores of arms as they're all carrying tommy-guns and hand-grenades. Each group, too, appears to be trained in street-fighting and properly led so it's a very different matter to putting down an ordinary riot, and we're not organised to contend with this sort of thing.'

Gregory shrugged. 'Even if you were, you wouldn't stand much chance if many of your senior officers are like that fellow Van der Woerden—just waiting for the opportunity to sell you to the enemy.'

'Are you quite sure that German was not on the Staff of their Embassy?'

'Certain of it; I know him well; he's the Gestapo Chief, Gruppenfuhrer Grauber. And even if he had been an accredited diplomat, that's no possible excuse for letting him go at a time like this when his country has just invaded yours without the slightest provocation.'

The Inspector nodded. 'You're right there. I wish now that I'd refused to send for the Chief Inspector.

Still, as I did, the fact that he died from your blow means you'll have to stand your trial for murder.'

'I know,' Gregory smiled suddenly, 'but in the meantime I'd like to know how you propose to treat me.

Am I to be regarded as a sailor who has killed a man in a drunken brawl or as a political prisoner who may have acted rashly but was working in the interests of your country as well as his own?'

Inspector Fockink hesitated a second, then he said: 'Quite unofficially, of course, I don't mind confessing that I understand your motive and that you have my sympathy. In any case, I'm prepared to give instructions that you shall receive such amenities as the station affords. If you've got money, so that you can pay for them, you can send out for any food you want, cigarettes, drink, etc. You may smoke as much as you like and have paper and pencils to write letters or prepare your defence —in fact any reasonable request you care to make will be granted.'

'That's decent of you,' Gregory replied. 'How about news? I'm naturally pretty anxious to know what's going on.'

'You can have any papers that you like to send for.'

'I'm afraid that's not much good; I can't read Dutch, and at a time like this I imagine it's extremely doubtful as to whether the English and French papers will come in as usual.'

'All right, then. Most of the warders can speak quite good German. I'll lift the regulation which forbids warders to carry on conversations with prisoners and each time they come into your cell they can give you the latest news.'

"Thanks,' said Gregory. 'I'm very grateful.'

When the Inspector had left him, Gregory glanced at his watch and saw that it was five to four. Guns were still firing, machine-guns were still beating their horrid tattoo; occasionally there drifted through the barred window of the cell a distant shout or the sound of hurrying feet; but there was nothing more that he could do to aid himself and, locked up as he was, there was nothing that he could do to help the Dutch defend their city, either, so he decided to go to bed and try to get some sleep.

In spite of the distant thudding and the rattling of the windows he managed to drop off about four-thirty but the warder woke him two hours later. He gave the man money to send out and buy him meals, drink, cigarettes, a war map to pin up on the wall of his cell and some English novels; and asked that his bag should be collected from the hotel; then he dozed again until the things arrived and, shortly afterwards, lunch was brought to him.

The warder gloomily gave him the news. It seemed that most of the German commercial travellers who had descended on Rotterdam in recent weeks were really soldiers in disguise. Each of them had known exactly what to do and where to go when the moment came, so they had rapidly consolidated into definite units several hundred strong, and as they had seized certain buildings which readily lent themselves to defence it was proving a very difficult matter to turn them out.

Since dawn the sky had been black with planes, and parachutists having captured the Schipol airport troop-carriers were now landing much greater numbers of Germans on it. An hour after the Germans had invaded Holland and Belgium they had gone into Luxemburg and launched a great offensive in the Moselle sector, where the Franco-German frontier and the Maginot Line proper ended. Both Holland and Belgium had appealed to the Allies for aid and at eleven o'clock it had been announced that the British and French would give them every possible assistance. It was reported that a Franco-British Army had already crossed the frontier and was wheeling through southern Belgium to meet the Germans.