CHAPTER 21
As Barber was being briefed in Simla, Mawle and Fernee had finally reached Meshed. When the pair reported to Colonel Statham, the latter was thrilled that the help he desperately needed had arrived. Statham quickly set Mawle to work on: organising the collection of information: disseminating intelligence reports to London, Simla and Mesopotamia; the difficult task of identifying friendly and enemy agents. Fernee was dispatched, post haste, to use his detection skills into what some recently arrived Russian merchants were doing in some of the smaller towns round Meshed.
On the same day as the two British officer’s arrival Statham had received a telegram from Baghdad confirming the bona fides of an unknown Russian, Zukoff, who had presented himself to the Meshed Mission the previous week asking for support against the Bolsheviks. The British Mesopotamian Army Intelligence Office based in Baghdad confirmed that both Zukoff and his father were known to them. Baghdad confirmed that both Zukoffs were royalists and were actively working against the Bolsheviks. Baghdad told Statham that he had to make his own decision as to what help he could offer the younger Zukoff.
Statham felt unable to promise Zukoff, the son, anything without more information as to what was happening across the border. Zukoff and Statham had a long discussion about what could be done to rectify the situation. When Statham learnt that Zukoff had once served in the Russian forces based in Persia and spoke excellent Farsi he asked Zukoff whether he would volunteer to go on an intelligence mission into Turkestan and find out what he could about Bolshevik intentions. Zukoff knew his own Royalist group were keen to learn the same information as the British did. Two days after meeting Statham Zukoff left Meshed, disguised as a Persian merchant, for Turkestan on a spying mission.
‘I’ve found out a bit from Van Rennsberg about this chap Compton. It’s a bit odd.’ Clarke said peering round the half opened door to Routledge’s office.
‘How so?’
Clarke opened the door fully and went and perched on the corner of Routledge’s desk. ‘Apparently he was in Petrograd, doing God knows what – Van Rennsberg would not say - and then he was reported dead.’ Clarke raised his eyebrows before he went on, ‘then he appears in Tashkent. Van Rennsberg either did not know what the chap was doing or was not saying.’
‘Which do you think?’
Clarke swung his legs off the desk and slid his legs onto the floor. ‘If the Americans are anything like us for secrecy then I think he wasn’t saying.’
‘I thought Americans were meant to honest and above board.’
Clarke was walking towards the door turned as he pulled it open and looked with a grin at Routledge. ‘Or do they just want everyone to think that?’