The 9 by Madalyn Morgan (tools of titans ebook .txt) 📕

‘The receipt book, sir.’ The officer from reception laid the open book down in front of the commander and stepped back.

Dalton ran his forefinger down the left side of the page. A faint smile played on his lips, which told Ena that he had found Mr Silcott’s signature. He turned the book round, so Ena could see, and pointed to H. Silcott. ‘There,’ he said, ‘you have nothing to worry about, Miss Dudley.’

Ena looked from the signature to the commander. ‘That isn’t Mr Silcott’s signature.’

Dalton’s eyes flashed with anger. He made a fist and brought it crashing down on the desk. ‘Then who the hell delivered your work? More importantly, how in God’s name did he get past security?’

Ena’s heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst out of her chest. She lowered her eyes. The commander was angry now, but he’d be furious when she told him she was almost certain the work delivered today wasn’t hers.

Ena had no idea what happened to her work once it arrived at Bletchley. Mr Silcott always said he couldn’t tell her because that kind of information was need-to-know. But it didn’t take a genius to work out that, with all the secrecy surrounding it, her work was important. She took a shuddering breath. What if it had been tampered with? Chances were it had. No one in their right mind would go to the trouble of stealing it only to deliver it. She looked up at the commander and pressed her lips together. If her work has been sabotaged any readings it gave would be distorted. She had to say something. If she didn't, by the time the people working with it realised, it would be too late.

She was terrified of telling the commander but she was more terrified of what the consequences would be if she didn’t tell him. She cleared her throat. ‘I don’t think it is my work, sir.’ Dalton shot her a look of outrage. She blanched and swallowed down the need to be sick. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but your engineers won’t be fitting my work, because my work has been stolen.’

The commander stared at her, his eyes penetrating and unblinking. ‘Slow down, Miss Dudley, you are not making any sense.’ Ena did as he asked, reminding herself that she needed to be clear and exact in what she was about to tell him. ‘Are you telling me that an imposter delivered your work,’ he looked down at the receipt book, ‘more than three hours ago, and you are only telling me now?’

‘Yes, sir. If I could explain...’

‘You better had. And damn sharpish!’

Ena sat up, her back straight. ‘First I’d like to say I had the case containing my work when I boarded the train at Rugby, and until… it never left my side.’ The commander gave her an accepting nod. ‘I thought I saw Mr Silcott get on the train and went to join him, but I couldn’t find him. Thinking about it now, I don’t believe it was Mr Silcott who boarded the train.’ She cleared her throat. ‘There was a man in a compartment who at first I thought was Mr Silcott. I am convinced that that man drugged me and stole my work, because after Northampton I remember nothing until I woke up in Euston and the case had gone.’

Commander Dalton snatched up the telephone. ‘Put me through to the engineers.’ There was silence for ten seconds, and then, ‘This is Commander Dalton. Have you fitted the work that came in from Lowarth yet?’ The answer must have been no, because he barked, ‘Then don’t. It may have been sabotaged.’ He slammed the telephone down making Ena jump. She fought to regain her composure. ‘Would you be able to tell at a glance if your work has been sabotaged?’

Not sure that she would just looking at it, Ena hesitated. ‘I…’

‘Would you, or would you not, Miss Dudley?’

‘Yes, sir, I would.’

The commander picked up the telephone again. ‘Get me the engineers again, will you? And then let Intelligence know that we may have a problem. This is Dalton. I’m bringing someone from the factory in Lowarth to look at the work.’ He put down the phone, pushed himself out of his chair and marched across the room to the door. Ena followed.

Running to keep up, Ena followed Commander Dalton out of the front door and along a narrow path to a large square building. Made of concrete, it was a complete contrast to the mansion, and looked out of place in Bletchley Park’s grounds. As she went in, Ena heard the clack-clack-clacking of what sounded like typewriters in a typing pool and female voices calling out numbers at the same time. She glanced into the first room on the left. Dozens of women wearing earphones were sitting round an oblong table, scribbling ferociously on large sheets of paper.

The next room looked like a huge telephone exchange with women putting connecting plugs in and out of giant switchboards. Fascinated, Ena watched the women move around one another in swift, smooth movements.

She was miles away when she heard someone clear their throat. She looked along the corridor and saw Commander Dalton, grim-faced, disappear into the next room down.

Putting a spurt on, Ena soon arrived at the door. Although it was open, she knocked before entering. Commander Dalton and three other men stood around a wooden workbench. As she walked over to join them, all four men focussed on her.

‘This is Miss Dudley,’ Dalton said. ‘She is responsible for…’ Ena’s heart almost stopped with embarrassment, ‘for some of the work that comes from the Midlands. She is going to check this particular consignment, because she believes it may have been tampered with.’

Ena looked at the men in front of her. The two in overalls she assumed