1901

When Ian Gordon returned to his quarters in the pleasant cottage rented for him by His Majesty’s government, he was surprised by the carriage waiting in front of it. His first thought was that it was Mrs. Adams, the woman he’d taken home from the wedding. She was getting to be a bore. He’d had no idea just how much pale fat her clothing obscured. Worse, she was obsessed with him, and he could think of nothing less appealing than someone who continuously craved sex with him and then performed poorly. If it were only his physical needs that required fulfilling, he could accomplish that by himself, as he had as a youth.

He entered his home and his valet informed him of a gentleman waiting for him in the parlor. Did Mrs. Adams have a husband? She had said she was a widow. He entered the parlor and laughed in relief.

“Captain Sigsbee, how are you?”

Sigsbee rose and assured him he was fine. Sigsbee was dressed in a civilian suit and not his naval uniform. It did not surprise Ian, since Sigsbee was the recently appointed director of the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI). “Ian, I see you’ve managed to land comfortably again.”

“Certainly. After all I am an observer and not a participant. Let the common soldiers live in tents and trenches; I prefer a solid roof and greater comforts.” He poured each of them a brandy and offered cigars, which Sigsbee declined.

“How is the Office of Naval Intelligence? Have you finally gotten into the spying game?” Ian asked. It was a sore point. The ONI and its army equivalent were solely charged with gathering factual data from open sources about other countries’ militaries. They did not spy.

“No,” Sigsbee said, “not yet. We’ll leave spying to you British. You’re so much better at it than we naive Americans.”

“Had you been less naive, Charles, you might not have gone to war with Spain. Did you really believe that saboteurs blew up the Maine? ”

Sigsbee hid his grimace behind the snifter. He had been the captain of the Maine when it blew up in Havana harbor and had endorsed the theory of sabotage. He had never been quite comfortable with that conclusion. “I had doubts.”

“Like a lingering fire in a coal bunker being the actual cause? I know. But enough of old times. You obviously have a reason for being here.”

“Indeed. Although we do not spy, sometimes we find things out about our supposed friends that we don’t particularly like.”

Ian put down his glass. Sigsbee’s eyes were cold. “Through informal but reliable sources we have reason to believe that His Majesty’s government is providing Germany with information about our navy, such as its location and disposition. Since you are the senior British officer about, and since you also met recently with your prime minister, I thought you might wish to comment.”

Ian thought for a moment, then he spoke softly. “Someone once said that England is interested only in England, and will go to any lengths to protect England. That, of course, is quite true.”

“You admit it?”

“I admit nothing. It is very much in England’s best interest that Germany not win this war. Notice, I did not say that Germany had to lose, just not win. To assist in this, we have been providing you with both materiel and information. Yet we live in an imperfect world and must confront the fact that a German victory is still very probable. Should that occur, we shall have to continue living with them. Thus all our efforts against them must be indirect so that Germany will not become so irrationally angry as to go to war against us.”

“Surely the navy could stop them.”

“Certainly. But our very real fear is that the Germans will attempt an invasion and that it will, even if unsuccessful, result in a massive bloodletting for very little gain. It is a situation best avoided.”

“What are you saying? Is Britain providing them with information or not?”

“Charles, German military intelligence is not an oxymoron. They are quite clever. Even though we never announced it publicly, they’ve known where the American fleet was gathering since the earliest days of the war. As to the status of particular ships, well really. Just a few weeks ago the Texas had to put in to Halifax because of a boiler problem. Some secret! Germany has a consulate in Halifax; even if it didn’t, are you so sure that all the German immigrants are honest citizens? If you were the kaiser, wouldn’t you plant some spies among them, both in the civilian sector and on your own ships?”

Sigsbee looked uncomfortable. “The matter of immigrants is one of grave concern. There are many Germans in our army and our navy and I am indeed worried about them. Others tell me not to be concerned because so many of them fought so well against Spain or in the Civil War, but those wars were not against their homeland.”