Come into my Parlour (Gregory Sallust, Book 6)
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23 Jun 1941 - 12 Dec 1941
Come Into My Parlour is the fifth of seven volumes incorporating all the principal events which occurred between September, 1939, and May 1945, covering the activities of Gregory Sallust, one of the most famous Secret Agents ever created in fiction about the Second World War.
Much of the action of the story takes place inside the Soviet Union, commencing with Russia entering the war against Nazi Germany. There to counter Gregory's plans is his arch-enemy, Gruppenführer Grabber, as anxious as ever to settle the long-standing score which has existed between them, and as plot and counter-plot carry the story to a Swiss lakeside villa, the final scenes are played out in a sinister castle situated deep in the heart of a German forest.
either giving them more than a disinterested glance. The mews abutted on a railway goods yard, so evidently, the bundles of papers came from Leningrad by train each day and the driver of the Red Fleet van collected his quota for distribution from the station, which they could now see a few hundred yards down the street. Instinctively they turned in the opposite direction. Even if there had been no risk in doing so they would not have used the railway vouchers they had been given, since it would
have been expected to remove his furs, as his main danger now was that he was not wearing a German uniform, so his furs were his only protection against discovery. When he had told his story again the officer seemed fairly satisfied but demanded to see the prisoner. Taking him outside, Gregory undid the van, pretended to unlock the cell and exposed Kuporovitch to view. He, too, was wearing his furs, but at the sight of his visitors he stood up and let them fall open, sufficient for it to be seen
report.” “Ooh!” Helga’s eyes widened. “Are you a doctor, then?” He nodded. “Yes. I’m the chap who tickles them up when they refuse to talk. But the first thing I always have to find out is how much tickling they are likely to stand up to.” Helga’s full mouth went sullen with disappointment. “Then you didn’t come down to see me after all?” “No, I’m afraid I didn’t,” he admitted. “But never mind. We’ll just have to look on our getting together as a pleasure deferred. As I said this afternoon,
what instructions he had been given for the night’s work. With a last desperate effort, Gregory wrenched his head free, and gasped: “Stop! For God’s sake stop! Or you’ll get us all killed!” Kuporovitch’s voice came again: “Gregory! What is happening down there? Are you all right?” Raising his own voice, Gregory yelled: “Hold it, Stefan! Don’t shoot for another minute!” Then he panted at Grauber: “Kuporovitch has got a machine-gun up there. I told him before I set out I’d rather be killed
Molotov had gone Alyabaiev led a young Brigadier up to him and reopened the matter of his going to Leningrad. As he had supposed the Russians were much more elastic in their dealings with such situations than the British would have been, and his suggestion of ignoring the Press Bureau was accepted as a short cut to getting the job done instead of a matter for head-shakings and fears of possible inter-Ministerial repercussions. The Brigadier proved to be in charge of communications with Leningrad