The Norwegian Woman

By H Paul Doucette

What were the chances! The U-boat captain peered into the lens of the periscope, scanning for any signs of trouble. All he could see was the darkness of the night – perfect for the landing of his passenger, he thought as he lowered the periscope and ordered the boat to surface.

Thirty minutes later the rubber boat was back and the man they carried was safely ashore. Everything went off like clockwork except for the untimely arrival of a small dory with two men inside it.

Robichaud got the call to see his boss, Lieutenant Morrison, shortly after arriving at the station. Fifteen minutes later he was on his way to Naval Headquarters on temporary detached duty. He and Pete Duncan, his partner, would be assigned to track down another Nazi agent. This time, however, they would be in a race with a Norwegian team also seeking the agent with orders to kill him.

Robie and Pete work their way through a small group of Nazi sympathizers who would try and prevent the agents capture.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: May 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9780228617976

Book preview

The Norwegian Woman

A Detective John Robichaud Mystery

H. Paul Doucette

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 9780228617976

Kindle 9780228617983

Web 9780228617990

Print ISBNs

BWL Print 9780228618003

B&N Print 9780228618027

Amazon Print 9780228618010

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book

Dedication

To all who gave so much on treacherous seas.

Acknowledgment

Many thanks as always to Tim Cohoon for his much

appreciated editing.

To betray, first you must belong.

Kim Philby

Prologue

The Norwegian Coast: 1943

It was a cold night. The sky was clear and filled with stars. The road snaked through the rolling foothills now empty of any traffic except for the two speeding cars. The Mercedes-Benz accelerated down the paved road, the driver clutching the steering wheel with sweaty hands, her attention divided between the road and the rear-view mirror; the Citroen was still behind her but not closing.

She glanced in the side view mirror and saw a man lean out of the passenger side window with a machine pistol in his hands aimed at her car. She instinctively weaved the car from side to side, making her much harder to hit. Only a few more miles, she thought, trying hard to keep control of the heavy car. She would soon be near the German roadblock and safe.

Several minutes later, she finally saw the glow of lights over the sentry post in the near distance. She stole a quick glance in the mirror and gave a sigh of relief when her pursuers slowed down then made a U-turn. She slowed as she approached the uniformed soldier holding his machine gun ready. She rolled the window down as she came to a stop.

Quick, she shouted, tension in her voice. I’m being chased by a Citroen with resistance fighters inside. They can’t be too far away.

Papers, the guard ordered, aiming his weapon at her.

Look, she snapped, reaching for her papers. There isn’t time for this. Get someone after them. She didn’t hide her anger as she shoved the papers out the window.

The guard passed the papers to another soldier, telling him to get the officer in charge while keeping his weapon leveled at her. A few moments later the guard returned with the officer.

Out of the car, the officer ordered. His shoulder boards indicated his rank as Oberleutnant.

She knew it was too late to go after the resistance men who were chasing her so, she shut the motor off and exited the car.

My name is Ingrid Sorensen, the driver said as she exited the car. Call Oberst Meyers in Bergen. He will vouch for me.

How do you know the Oberst?

That is not your concern, Sorensen snapped. Unless you want to end up somewhere you will not like, I’m telling you to make the call.

The lieutenant looked uncertainly at her for a brief moment, then turned and went back inside the gatehouse.

He came back a few minutes later and handed Sorensen’s papers back to her, ordering the two guards to let her pass.

She arrived in Bergen twenty minutes later and drove to German headquarters.

She pulled the car into an empty spot in front of a three-story stone building, got out and headed for the main entrance, which was guarded by two armed soldiers, standing under two flags with the black swastika emblazoned on them. They ignored her as she stepped past them and went inside. She stopped at a large wooden table with a stern looking woman dressed in a gray uniform, white shirt and black tie sitting behind it. She wore the red armband with the swastika in a white circle. She looked to be in her thirties, although Ingrid could not be sure since the woman projected the cold air of a dedicated Nazi.

Yes? she said, looking up at her.

Oberst Meyers, Sorensen said.

Is he expecting you?

Yes.

She eyed Sorensen warily for a moment before picking up the phone on the left side of the table. A few moments later, she hung up and pointed to the flight of stairs, saying, Third floor.

Danka, Sorensen said then headed for the stairs. She sensed the woman’s steely eyes on her as she walked away.

Ah, Ingrid, Oberst Otto Meyers said when she was shown into Meyers’ office. Meyers was dressed in his civilian clothes but there was no mistaking he was an officer of some importance. There was an aristocratic air about him: stiff, erect posture; impeccably dressed in a dark blue two-piece suit; his face the picture of superiority with a touch of disdain. Sorensen always felt he had the air of an Austrian or Prussian.

Otto, Sorensen said, nodding her head.

Come, Sit. What brings you in? It was my understanding you were still on assignment?

My cover is blown. I only just managed to make it here.

How?

I’m not sure, but I am now known to the resistance and there will soon be a price on my head.

Hmmm, yes, you are quite right. I am glad you came in. You are too valuable an agent to lose.

Thank you, she said, smiling. So, what now?

Well, the first thing will be to alert the Abwehr. From all we know about the resistance, this will be wired to MI6 in England. I suspect your usefulness is done here. It won’t take them long to alert the other groups throughout their networks. Regrettable. You have been of immeasurable service to the Reich. But now we must ensure you are safe. He pushed a button on the intercom devise on the desk. A moment later, the door opened, and his aide stepped in.

Karl. Contact the hotel and arrange a room for our friend here. Also, detail two plainclothes officers to watch over her.

Sir, Karl said, clicking his heels and tilting his head, then turned and left.

The hotel is perfectly safe. It is one of our own operations. Everyone there is a loyal German. No Norwegians.

How long will I have to stay there? I cannot...? Sorensen started to ask.

I will contact headquarters and advise them of this situation. I am sure they will find a solution. In the meantime, do you have anything new to report?

Sorensen reached inside her handbag and took out a folded piece of paper. She passed it across the desk to Meyers.

This is a list of names of people I suspect are collaborating with the underground.

Meyers took the page and unfolded it, quickly scanning the names.

Hmm. Only three names?

Yes. But people in positions with access to sensitive information.

And you are sure these people are passing information? One of them is a key member of the research team.

No, not certain, but let’s say, there are strong reasons they should be watched.

Hmm, Meyers said. I will see to it immediately. If there is the slightest possibility of our operations becoming compromised, action must be taken. Now, go. We will talk again tomorrow.

He stood up and came around to the front of the desk and placed an arm across Sorensen’s shoulders, leading her to the door.

Let’s have dinner tonight...say eight o’clock? Order champagne. We will make a night of it, yes?

She understood what he was suggesting. Although married, Meyers had a healthy and varied sexual appetite. She did not mind, in fact, she looked forward to the night.

Ingrid Sorensen was born in 1912 in Oslo. She was raised and schooled in Norway and England. In 1931, when she was nineteen, she married Bjorn Sorensen. Together, they moved to Germany in 1932 to live and work. They found their way into the new National Socialist Party and became devoted followers of Adolf Hitler. In time, Bjorn joined the military wing of the Party. He was killed by a mob of protesters in 1936. She was recruited by the Abwehr, German’s intelligence service, in 1938 and had been serving since then. She soon gained a reputation as an efficient, intelligent, and ruthless agent. She would do whatever was needed to see her missions through, including using her body when necessary.

Once outside the office, Sorensen stopped at Karl’s desk and waited as he finished a phone call.

Everything will be ready when you arrive at the hotel. I have arranged a car to take you there. It is waiting downstairs, he said.

What about my car? It’s parked outside, Sorensen asked, thinking she was going to miss the car. She really liked the big powerful Mercedes sedan.

It will be taken care of. May I have the keys? the aide said, holding out his hand.

It was two days later when Sorensen got the call to report to Meyers’ office.

Good to see you again. I hope you have not become too comfortable at the hotel, Meyers said with a chuckle as Sorensen sat down.

Uh-oh, Sorensen thought, this does not bode well.

It has been decided that your situation in Norway is now untenable. However, your skills are too valuable to waste, so you have been given a new assignment. How is your English by the way?

Pretty good. I studied Political Science at the University of Manchester before the war, she answered.

Excellent.

So, I’m off to England?

No, Meyers said. It is agreed that British intelligence has likely been informed of you so, it is too risky to send you there. No, you will be sailing within the next twelve hours on U-boat 153. It will deliver you to the east coast of Canada. All the details are in here, he said, picking up an envelope and passing it to her.

She opened it and looked inside. It contained her new papers and passport and a sealed black envelope with her orders.

You will be dropped ashore somewhere on the Nova Scotia coast in an area called, St. Margaret's Bay. It is the least patrolled area with sufficient water for the U-boat to maneuver. You will be met by one of our agents placed there before the war, a man. He will take you to the port of Halifax. His name is inside. Your cover story is that you are his wife, recently arrived from Ontario. This is a Canadian Province.

What am I supposed to do there? Sorensen asked.

As you know, our operations at the research facility are advancing quickly. When ready, and successful, we will have such powerful weapons that no one will resist the Reich. Our enemies have learned of this and have been trying to penetrate the facility for some time. However, thanks in part to your work, we have been able to thwart their efforts. The Abwehr believe the Norwegian government in exile may be working with the Canadian and British governments on an operation to derail our work. You are to find out anything you can about what the Norwegians are up to, specifically if they are planning some action against us here, then report back through your contact. That about covers it. Any questions?

Yes. Why me?

Isn’t it obvious? Because you are Norwegian, not German. If they discover you and investigate, they will only discover your Norwegian background. You should be able to infiltrate and blend in. Oh yes, one more item. You should keep your ears open for anything about a camp set up by the Norwegian government in exile with the cooperation of the Canadians. The general view is that if an operation is being developed it may be a joint project with the Canadians, maybe even the Americans. We know the Canadians are running a secret training camp somewhere in Canada known as Camp X. So, Berlin is of course, interested in knowing everything about any foreign training camps.

I see. Well, Sorensen said, standing up. I’d better get ready. May I go to my apartment and pack my things?

Too risky, Meyers said. It may be under surveillance by the resistance. I will have one of my female staff attend to it. Make a list of anything specific you want. Oh, one more thing. It is possible MI6 may have sent information on you to their overseas contacts, so be on your guard. Your local contact might know something. If we learn of anything more concrete, a message will be sent.

Thanks for the warning.

Good luck, Meyers said, bowing, and taking her hand, kissed it. There is a car downstairs to take you to the submarine base.

Sorensen made her way back outside where a gray military Daimler was waiting along with two motorcycles, each with a driver and a sidecar occupied by an armed soldier. A uniformed soldier stood holding the door open. She got in without saying a word.

They arrived at the submarine base two hours later. Within