Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales, and socialite Wallis Spencer. David abdicates the throne to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney turns mercenary. David hires him as his valet. Count de Merigny asks David’s help in a murder trial.
By early spring 1944 David and Wallis visited Bermuda, further north and east of the Bahamas. David had informally declined the offer to serve as governor of the less significant British province. However, in a show of courtesy, he agreed to visit the island. As a convenient circumstance, the trial of Count de Merigny on charges of murdering Sir Harry Oakes was underway in Nassau.
Bermuda was even smaller than the Bahamas and had even fewer amenities. “At least Nassau was close to Miami,” Wallis commented, “while Bermuda wasn’t close to anything.”
On the afternoon of their first day, Bermudan officials took them to the Governor’s Palace, again small and unappealing. Inside the office, they were left alone with a man who sat in a high back tufted chair. When he stood, they saw Gerry Greene, their contact with MI6.
“I thought you might want to be updated on the course of the war,” he said with a smile. “Wire reports can be unreliable.”
“Oh, thank God, then we don’t really have to move to this dreadful little island, do we?” Wallis cracked.
“Heavens no,” Greene replied. “The world doesn’t know it, but this terrible war has been won. It’s just a matter of convincing the insane little man in Berlin to concede. It might take another year.”
David took out a cigarette and lit it. “And what has happened to provoke such an optimistic opinion?”
Greene motioned to chairs around the desk. “Please have a seat. Our sources in Berlin report Hitler’s highest level of advisors have proposed creating contingency plans to move the Reich’s most sensitive documents to the mountains on the Czech border.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “You don’t plan to move your documents until you know you’re losing.”
“They want the same advantage following the First World War,” David interjected. “They commandeered all files and sent them to occupied Belgium where, after the armistice, they could release specific documents to make the victors look like villains, paving the propaganda war for the rise of the Third Reich.”
“Exactly,” Green replied. “I see you are two steps ahead of me as always.”
“So what do they want us to do about it?” Wallis asked. “Rush into Berlin like we were on a shopping spree?”
“No, we expected you to be prepared at the proper time to break into the vault, wherever it may be and extract German documents only about yourselves. The Allies and the Russians can fight over the rest.”
Wallis tapped David on the knee and pointed at his cigarette case. “I don’t understand. The whole world watched us visit Germany in ’36. What more is there?” She lit the bummed cigarette.
“Well, there’s the failed assassination attempt.” Greene turned a bit testy. “We know Hitler was taken with you, Wallis. We don’t want letters expressing his desire for you found. And we know all about Ribbentrop and the white carnations.”
“Gerry, please, show some discretion in front of the h-u-s-b-a-n-d.”
“You mean you didn’t know that I knew that each carnation represented an assignation with Ribbentrop? I’m a better spy than you think.”
She scratched the back of her slender neck with her well-manicured nails. “I’m getting bored with this game. Can’t we just retire?”
The word “retire” caught David’s attention and he leaned forward. “Yes, why can’t we just retire and let someone else rifle through Hitler’s files? We’re not exactly young anymore, you know. And I don’t know about Wallis, but I don’t want to stick around so long all we do is pass information from one agent to another.”
“I agree,” Wallis said. “It sounds terribly unromantic to become couriers.”
Greene smiled in sympathy. “I understand how you feel, but you are the only ones who can swiftly go through the files. You know what to look for. We don’t want any stray carnations left behind, do we?”
Wallis sighed in resignation. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to take daily walks down to the beach and to the marketplace, won’t we, darling? We must be fit to carry this one off.”
David smiled at her. The light from the window made her bemusement look adorable.
By the time they returned to Nassau, the Merigny trial was over and the jury acquitted him. Both David and Wallis sighed with relief that they didn’t have to testify. Over breakfast in the garden of the Governor’s Palace, they passed the newspaper back and forth reading snippets from the trial transcript.
“You can see it all in the photograph taken on the steps of the court building,” Wallis announced with an air of authority.
David scooted his chair closer so he could see. “How so?”
“Well, for one thing, Harry’s widow Eunice is nowhere to be seen.”
“She rarely is,” David replied. “The Bahamian heat doesn’t agree with her. She wasn’t even there at the party when Harry was killed.”
“That was July. She always spends her summers in Maine. This is April. Nassau is really quite nice in April.”
David raised an eyebrow. “And when did you join the tourism bureau?”
“The point I’m trying to make is that the victim’s widow generally attends the trial, especially if her son-in-law is the accused. And why wasn’t she there?”
“Because she couldn’t stand either her husband or her son-in-law?”
“That goes without saying,” Wallis replied in frustration. “Eunice is a well-bred lady. While she didn’t mourn Harry, she sensed something irregular with Alfred.”
“He couldn’t have done it. He had a solid alibi.”
Wallis pointed at the newspaper. “Look at this picture of Nancy next to Alfred, playing the dutiful wife. He has his arm around her but look at her hand. It’s flat against his chest, like she’s pushing him away, at least symbolically.” Wallis arched an eyebrow. “I smell a divorce sometime next year.”
“So think mother and daughter think Alfred paid someone to kill Harry?”
Wallis smiled in triumph. “See, you think so too.”
At that moment, Sidney approached the table with a second pot of tea. “Did your trip to Bermuda go well, sir, madam?”
“Sidney, I’m so glad you’re here,” Wallis said in a bright chirp. “We were just discussing the Oakes murder trial. Have you been keeping up with it?”
“Only slightly, madam,” he replied. “I spent the few days while you were in Bermuda at my home in Eleuthera.”
“You love your home, don’t you, Sidney?”
“Of course, madam.”
“We were thinking Count de Merigny paid someone to murder Sir Harry.” David watched Sidney’s face carefully. “Tell me, Sidney, how easy would it be to find someone to commit murder?”
Sidney kept his eyes down. “My countrymen are very poor. It would not take much to persuade them to kill.”