The Eagle Has Flown

‘Fine, sir. I’ll arrange it.’

Munro turned. ‘Devlin – there is a photo on file?’

‘Passport photo, sir. When he was in Norfolk he had to fill in an alien’s registration form. That’s a must for Irish citizens and it requires a passport photo. Special Branch ran it down. It’s not very good.’

‘They never are, those things.’ Munro suddenly smiled. ‘I’ve got it, Jack. Where to hold Steiner. That place in Wapping. St Mary’s Priory.’

‘The Little Sisters of Pity, sir? But that’s a hospice for terminal cases.’

‘They also look after chaps who’ve had breakdowns, don’t they? Gallant RAF pilots who’ve cracked up?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And you’re forgetting that Abwehr agent Baum in February. The one who got shot in the chest when Special Branch and MI5 tried to pick him up in Bays-water. They nursed him at the Priory and interrogated him there. I’ve seen the reports. MI5 don’t use it regularly, I know that for a fact. It would be perfect. Built in the seventeenth century. They used to be an enclosed order so the whole place is walled. Built like a fortress.’

‘I’ve never been, sir.’

‘I have. Strange sort of place. Protestant for years when Roman Catholics were proscribed, then some Victorian industrialist who was a religious crank turned it into a hostel for people off the street. It stood empty for years and then in nineteen ten some benefactor purchased it. The place was reconsecrated Roman Catholic and the Little Sisters of Pity were in business.’ He nodded, full of enthusiasm. ‘Yes, I think the Priory will do nicely.’