Bound for London

Demorest showed keen interest right from the beginning and seemed amazed by my story. He asked me for proof, which I proceeded to give him.

For the first time there seemed to be a distinct possibility that I had found the right person; at last someone was going to help me to complete the mission I had set myself.

It was precisely while I was telling him my story that its full implication struck me: I started to realize the potential value of the trick I had begun to play on the Third Reich.

Demorest asked for two days in which to follow up my story, confer with his British colleagues and convince them they must get in touch with me.

Someone in England had already had the perception to suspect that the spy they were hunting for was probably the same person as the freelance agent at large in Portugal, so some days later Captain Benson asked Demorest to give me his phone number. I then telephoned Benson, who arranged for me to meet Gene Risso-Gill, an MI6 officer in Lisbon, on the terrace of a refreshments shop overlooking the beach at Estoril.

Finally accepted

Three days later Risso-Gill telephoned me to say he had received instructions that I should be taken to London.

Sometime later he came round to my place to tell me that a four-ship convoy heading for Gibraltar lay in the Tagus and that he had arranged for me to leave on one of the ships the following evening. I was not to take any luggage but to give him the invisible ink and the code-book and he would see that they reached London.

Entrance to England on April 6, 1942.
Passport with entry stamp to England.

The captain had precise instructions what to do with me when we reached Gibraltar: he was to hand me over to two officers, who would provide me with money and find me somewhere to stay.

We coasted along the shore for twenty-four hours and then, very early the next morning, I heard the ship’s engines stop. When I went on deck I found the Rock of Gibraltar towering overhead. At about 8 am, a small boat approached and two officers stepped on board. One of them said to me that he had been instructed by London to look after me.

Over a large english breakfast I was informed that there was a room at my disposal for my own and exclusive use and that I could come and go as I pleased. He then handed me a wad of sterling notes and suggested that I buy some clothes as he knew I had brought no luggage whatsoever with me.

Doubts

Two days later I left Gibraltar in an extremely uncomfortable military plane. I caught a glimpse of Plymouth from the plane and was suddenly acutely aware that I was away from home and about to enter an alien land.

Would the English be friendly towards me?

Would they understand my motives for all that I had done and honestly believe that I wished to work for the good of mankind?

What would my future hold?