From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 11)
Working with a partner undercover has enormous advantages. The ability to be in two places at once being the best of them. However, there are singular limitations if you are working together, but your covers are not together. I remember one extremely boring event in which both Euphemia and I were present at a country house gathering. The issue was we arrived as people who did not know each other. The gathering was an illegal auction and we had both had to stump up some excellent false credentials. As we were supposed enemies in the bidding war, we could hardly have cosy chats in front of the other attendees.
Having studied the location, we had pre-arranged a first meeting spot, but reality is seldom ever so kind as to allow plans to go unhindered. Fortunately, over time, we had built up a system of signals by which to covertly communicate with one another.
The roots of it came from when Euphemia was first studying codes and cyphers, at which she is competent, but not outstanding. At one point she was delighted to come across a covert flirtation system once present in Canada and America. ‘Even if people do spot us signalling,’ she said, ‘they will merely think we are flirting.’ ‘Your husband would be so happy to learn of that,’ I replied, but she merely shrugged. ‘What he doesn’t know…’ She was especially delighted by a system that involved how a man handled his hat. Whether he held it in front of him, behind, by the band or by the crown, where he placed it beside him, and all that. I pointed out that in England, the moment one enters a property, a butler, maid or footman whisks away one’s hat and gloves.
‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘And what, precisely, would you respond with? Gestures with a fan, something that no modern woman keeps about her person?’
‘Drat,’ said Euphemia. ‘But you get the idea, Eric. One could use natural gestures that draw no suspicious attention, but to one’s fellow operative mean a great deal.’
I admit, I disliked that she had voiced this idea before I had, but I do my best to be fair. ‘It’s an interesting idea,’ I admitted. ‘You know the basic military ones, don’t you?’
She nodded. ‘But you mean something more expansive than that. I suggest you start by drawing up a list that we might employ in the field, like ‘leave as soon as possible’, ‘suspect is behind you’, ‘meet at our arranged place’.
‘Or,’ added Euphemia, ‘don’t eat the soup. It’s poisoned.’
‘I doubt you will be able to be that specific. There are only so many normal gestures we can appropriate or such purposes. I shall make a list of those. Then we can match them up as we see best.
I stared sternly at her. ‘And don’t call me Eric when we’re working.’
As untameable as ever, her only answer was to giggle. As she rarely giggles - it would be quite unbearable if one were partnered with a female who giggled a great deal - I let it pass. She had, I recall, been most dispirited of late, as Bertram had experienced another of his turns. I must say that for an invalid, Bertram has a great strength, and propensity for surviving his turns, that is quite remarkable. Another fellow would have turned up his toes long ago.
So, anyway, we created a code between us that proved most useful. Although Euphemia insisted what we include a sign to warn of poison. I railed against this, but later had to eat my words. Her signalling that my drink or steak had been poisoned saved my life on two occasions at least.
Having a creatively minded partner can be tiresome. I find the more creative a person is, the harder it is to tie them down to logical solutions. But Euphemia’s creativity and intuition has always been a boon to our working life. In our personal dealings, which became all the more frequent after I became Hope’s Godfather, they have always been an unmitigated nightmare. She is forever thrusting me onto the back foot.