The Spy Who - The Spy Who Dressed the Queen | Reckoning Day | 3

Episode Date: May 6, 2025

Following initial success messing with the Germans, Amies is facing his most-crucial mission yet: laying the groundwork for the liberation of Belgium. But is the threat from Prosper De Zitter really over? Some gun sound effects courtesy of Mike Burns & Fabien Compos of youtube.com/@BlokeontheRangeSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of The Spy Who early and ad free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. January 1944. The house in the woods. Buley, Hampshire. Hardy Ames, the fashion designer turned spy master, has returned to the English countryside to see in the New Year. It's been nearly three years since Ames first came here to train SOE agents for covert operations in Nazi-occupied Europe. Now, in the office's mess building, he and several other section chiefs are raising a glass to the coming year, and hoping that 1944 will bring an end to this long and brutal war.

George, the stooped man who inducted Ames into the SOE, leans in. So, Hardy, tell me, how are things over at Baker Street? Ames grimaces. Since he assumed leadership of T-Section, the SOE department that runs operations in Belgium, he has lost several agents to prison camps or the morgue. But he hopes that's now in the past. T-Section recently received reports confirming the assassination

of Prosper Dezita, the notorious Nazi collaborator who has lured dozens of downed Allied airmen into enemy hands. We've had our share of challenges, but recently, I'm pleased to say things have started to go our way. Amis takes a sip of his gin, hoping that vague reply will be sufficient. George, however, keeps staring at Amis. Operation Ratweek, you mean? Amis lets slip a look of surprise.

Operation Ratweek's campaign of assassination in Nazi-occupied Europe is supposed to be top secret. The operation sought to kill leading informants and collaborators and strike fear into those who work with the Nazis. Officially T-section didn't take part because Belgium's government in exile wouldn't sanction the assassinations. But George seemed to be aware that Ratweek went ahead there anyway. I'm surprised that news has reached the Hampshire countryside. Oh, rumors and speculation only. I heard Ratweek had been a tremendous success in France.

I'm glad to learn that things have gone similarly smoothly in Belgium. George raises his eyebrows, awaiting confirmation. Amis bristles slightly. Your source is mistaken. Tea section didn't partake. Still, Italy has certainly given us something to build upon. Amis raises his glass and gives George a broad smile. To peace.

Indeed. As the pair gently knock their glasses together, George looks lost in his thoughts. Amis uses the moment to excuse himself and works his way across the crowded room in search of an easier conversation. He soon spots one of his T-section deputies squeezing toward him through the partygoers, wearing a look of grave urgency. Sir, a quiet word. You look like you've spent the evening with the ghost of Christmas past. What's the matter?

The man leans in close and murmurs into Amy's ear. Dezita, he's been seen in Brussels. Amis gazes up at the ceiling in exasperation. Impossible! Both the Secret Intelligence Service and the Belgians reported him dead. Well, someone is mistaken. And we've heard from the Belgians again. They now think the initial report was incorrect.

Amis falls silent. If Dezita is alive, the SOE agents and Allied airmen alike remain at risk. But worse than that, it means the Nazis still have their highly effective henchmen at their disposal. And that threatens to be another major obstacle standing in the way of Belgium's liberation. Here we go, you can get a pro at Tread Experts. Toyo's open country family of tires will get you through tough weather in a variety of terrains. Until May 31st, save up to $100 in rebates on select Toyo tires.

Find a Toyo Tread Experts dealer near you at treadexperts.ca slash locations. From tires auto repair, we're always there. TreadexExpress.ca From Wondry. I'm Indra Varma and this is The Spy Who. In the last episode, the Special Operations Executive initiated Operation Ratweek, a campaign of assassination targeting collaborators in enemy countries. But when the Belgian government in exile refused to approve the operation on its soil, Amis and T-Section encouraged the Belgian resistance to carry out the hits unofficially.

Amis hoped the wave of assassinations would take out his nemesis, the Nazi collaborator Prosed to Zeta. But now it's emerged the plan to execute to Zeta failed, and the man with the missing finger is still at large. And that means he's a threat to the SOE's efforts to prepare for the Allied invasion of Belgium. This is episode three of The Spy Who Dressed the Queen, Reckoning Day. January 1944, War Office, London. Amis sits at a conference table surrounded by various SOE department heads.

They are being briefed on Operation Overlord, the Allied plan to invade and liberate Nazi-occupied France. It has been a long meeting and the room is thick with cigarette smoke. The general who's leading the meeting turns to Amis. Overlord is focused on the liberation of France, but if we are successful we will be well positioned to drive the Nazis from Belgium. Amis nods. The fact is, we cannot advance on Germany without first taking Belgium. Your department must be ready, Lieutenant Colonel. Is the priority Brussels?

No, Antwerp. After the Normandy landings, we'll need control of a major deep-water port to supply our advancing armies. Antwerp is ideal. It's closer to Germany than any of the French ports. It has not been destroyed by bombing raids, so assuming we can take it intact, it will allow us to bring in substantial amounts of supplies, fuel and reinforcements. Won't the

Germans try to destroy it if they're forced to retreat? Precisely. T-section must coordinate the resistance, weaken the German stronghold and, crucially, protect the port until our troops arrive. Amis rubs his eyes. After months of playing defense in Belgium, his department is now being called upon to function as a crucial link in the chain that will help end this war. As the officers leave the room, the head of the SOE, Major General Colin Gubbins, takes Ames by the arm. Ames, did you get all that?

Yes, sir. Loosen the German grip on Antwerp port, then protect it from being destroyed before our troops arrive. You'll need exceptional agents. Do you have anyone in mind? Anyone who is still available, that is. Amy's bristles at the jibe. It's true. T-section has a long list of missing agents,

but he maintains a polite tone. Yes, the agent codenamed Scipio. I don't think I've seen his file yet. What's his story? Real name, Philippe de Lidéquerque, a Belgian aristocrat with deep roots in the country and access to influential circles. We trained him, so we know he's good. And he is trusted by the resistance too, so politically well-placed for this mission. Next full moon, I will have him on a plane. Sounds impressive, but will he have support? This is not a one-man job, no matter how competent he might be.

Yes, you've heard about Andre Wendelin, I'm sure. The chap who took a year to get back here. Ames ignores the dig. He knows that Gobbins is under tremendous pressure to ensure that SOE succeeds at this critical moment. Trust me, Wendelin and Liederkerker will make a formidable team. Together, I will have them scout the defenses at Antwerp, identify the weak spots, and uncover any German plans to destroy the port. Good. One more thing.

Tell the resistance to limit their activities in Antwerp. We want the Germans to think the resistance is weak in the city. That way, when the cavalry arrives, they'll be less cautious. And Amis. Yes, sir. Don't blow this. For everyone's sake. Yes, sir. Don't blow this. For everyone's sake. A couple of months later. On a rainy spring morning, Philippe de Lidekerker enters a local café and approaches the dock worker he has arranged to meet here. The dock worker's eyes scan the room as Lide Kierke sits next to him. This is dangerous business, Monsieur. These blueprints you want.

If they catch me, I will lose more than my job. High risk, high reward. Lide Kierke slides a brown package across the table. There's a year's wages in there. Besides, think how much lighter you'll feel no longer having to hide these documents in your home. I'm solving two problems for you. The informant hesitates, then hands over a folder containing a sheaf of blueprints.

The Germans don't trust us. But I watch. I see where they load their supply ships, where the officers meet. It's all in there. Good. Tell no one. Not even your wife. Ha! She knows better than to ask questions these days. The next day, at a resistant safe house in the suburbs of Antwerp, Lidekerker unfurls the informants' blueprints. His fellow SOE agent Wendelin leans in for a closer look at the details of the key buildings and infrastructure in the docks. The operation hinges on the port. If we seize it intact, we give the Allies everything they need.

But if the Germans destroy it first, God knows for how long this war will drag on. Then we ensure they don't get the chance. Here, the fuel depots, the dock gates, we take these first. We must control the cranes, the piers. The Germans will try to sever the supply routes, especially if they receive advance warning. We need to limit how many people know about the plan. We know De Zieta is probably in Brussels, but he could have a mole right here about the plan. We know Dezita is probably in Brussels,

but he could have a mole right here in the Resistance. Wouldn't be the first time. Still, there is no avoiding it. When the Allies begin their operation, we can't protect the port without the Resistance's manpower. We have to bring them in. A few weeks later, an abandoned house in the countryside a few miles outside Antwerp. An SOE radio operator sits cross-legged at his radio transmitter with a pair of headphones over his ears.

He taps out a coded update from Lidekerker to Ames in London, checking the message under his breath as he goes. Resistance units in Antwerp ready for coordinated action. Require immediate drops of arms, explosives, ammunition. Priority targets, port facilities, supply depots, key intersections. The plan is coming together. Soon everything will be ready. The trick now will be ensuring the Germans don't uncover their plans. A couple of months later, July 1944, the Shell building, Brussels. In a large Art Deco conference room,

Prosper de Zieta is attending a meeting with other leading collaborators. They've been gathered here for a briefing from one of Adolf Hitler's closest allies, Heinrich Himmler, the head of the Nazi party's paramilitary wing, the SS. A few weeks earlier, Allied troops landed on the beaches in Normandy, northern France. Now the Allies are advancing through France. Rome too has fallen. Across Europe, German forces are in retreat. So Himmler has come to Belgium to direct efforts to halt the Allied advance and protect Germany itself from invasion.

He issues orders to the assembled collaborators. You are to prepare to level the port of Antwerp. If the enemy breaches our defenses, you must use dynamite to topple the cranes, then blast holes in the sea walls. We must flood the port and render the docks useless. Then we can begin to stage our counter-attack. Himmler turns to Dezita. You will support this work. Should the enemy take Belgium, you are to lead a resistance to sabotage the Allies' efforts to advance. Dezita blinks in surprise at the order. The Belgian resistance have already tried to assassinate him, probably with support from the British. If the Allies take Belgium, they will surely hunt him down and have him executed. His plan was to take his money and run.

Herr Himmler, I am the wrong person for this. I believe my identity has been exposed. And we pay you to be brave, not inconspicuous. You pay me for results. I'm informing you that my ability to get results has been compromised. Still, if I were to say yes, I take it the rates would reflect the increased risks to my person? Himmler's eyes flicker with irritation at having to work with such a mercenary. You speak of risks. What do you think the Allies will do with the likes of you if they take this country?

All those British airmen you merrily led into our hands as Captain Wilhelm, or whatever you called yourself, the British file on you could sink a battleship. This is in your interest as well as ours, you fool. Faced with such unexpected ire from a senior Nazi, Dezita quickly backs down. You misunderstand me, Herr Himmler. I only mean that organizing such a robust resistance will require significant funds.

And my concerns about my identity having been exposed are only relevant in the sense they might compromise our mission, naturally. Himmler nods sharply at Dezita's display of subservience. Then he signals to one of his deputies, who presents Dezita with two briefcases, each filled with American dollars. Here are your funds. Succeed in your mission and we will provide you with new identities. If necessary, you will be able to live freely in Germany. Dezita scurries away with the briefcases. He knows, with the SOE and the Belgian resistance hunting him, returning to Antwerp represents a major risk. But what choice does he have?

He owes the Nazis his freedom, but the bargain he struck in the prison cell is a debt he now realizes he will never be free from. September 1944. It is three months since the D-Day landings in Normandy. Allied troops are now fighting to liberate Belgium and closing in on Antwerp. And inside the city, SOE agent Lidekerker and a group of resistance fighters creep towards the port, ready to support the coming attack. Up ahead, Lidekerker spots a German demolition crew planting dynamite around the base of a crane. From a safe distance, one of the Germans presses the plunger. A second later, the dynamite explodes. The crane topples slowly to the ground like a felled oak tree.

Liederkirche and his comrades break into a sprint, running towards the German position, their guns ready. On the dock side, another squadron of resistance members advance. A German soldier breaks from his defensive position, rushing to detonate the explosives that line the concrete walls holding back the sea. A resistance fighter takes aim at the soldier with his rifle and lets off two shots and quits itself.

Both bullets strike their target. At the sluice gate that prevents the sea from flooding the port, resistance fighters chase the Germans who are moving in to destroy this crucial barrier. Behind them, a second group of fighters erect a metallic wall designed to protect the sluice from flooding should the Germans take out the gate. At the Dock's telephone exchange, Lidekerker bounds up the external staircase to the control room. He carries a well-rod pistol in his hand. He bursts into the control room, startling a German officer who's speaking into one of the receivers.

startling a German officer who's speaking into one of the receivers. Before the officer can call for assistance, Liederkerke fires off two rounds in quick succession. The officer slumps forward, the receiver dangling from its wire. With their guns raised, Liederkerirche and his men stand beside a bridge crossing the river that runs through the port. In front of them stands a group of German troops, their hands raised in surrender and their weapons discarded on the ground beside their feet. Liederkirche arrived just in time to prevent the group from destroying

the bridge. Had the Germans been successful, the Allies would have faced delays in their advance. They would have needed to construct temporary crossings or find alternative routes. Antwerp port has been saved with only minimal damage. Hardy, Aimes and the agents of the SOE's Belgian section have completed their mission. The road to Berlin is clear. A few weeks later, Brussels. A British Army jeep rattles across the cobbled streets of the Belgian capital. Buildings loom all around, many scarred by war. Hardy Ames, in an impeccably turned out uniform, sits at the wheel. After four years directing operations from London,

the spymaster has finally arrived in war-torn Europe. Now that Belgium is free, T-Section has relocated its operations room to Brussels. In the seat beside Amis, the famous fashion photographer turned chronicler of war, Leigh Miller, peers through the viewfinder of her camera. She occasionally takes shots through the open windshield, mostly of civilians picking through the rubble.

Since meeting in Brussels, Miller and Amies have bonded over their shared love of fashion and become firm friends. And as a favor, Amies agreed to drive her around the city in search of some profitable images. After a while, Miller turns to Amis. Strange, isn't it? This city, so alive and so broken at the same time. Liberation always looks better in the newspapers

than in real life. The Jeep turns a corner as the distant sound of a tram bell echoes through the city. You must be glad it's over. Over? I spend my days pretending to smile at cocktail parties or in sad houses shaking hands with grieving parents. The names of the missing never stop arriving.

So many threads left dangling. And while he can't tell her, there's one thread in particular that's gnawing at Amys. Prosper de Zeta. He's still out there somewhere. Still unpunished despite all he's done. Miller studies her new friend, then shifts her focus back to her camera. She captures a shot of Ames, his face lined with fatigue. Miller lowers her camera.

Would you introduce me to the resistance? Ames hesitates, a frown forming on his brow. I don't think that's allowed. Miller smirks teasingly. Be a darling and check, won't you? Or even... don't think that's allowed. Miller smirks teasingly. Be a darling in check, won't you? Or even don't? Fine, I will. So once all those threads have been tied up,

what's next for the great Hardy Amies, Stitcher of Suits, Master of Spies? I want out, out of the military, out of the secret world. They'll want to send me to Germany because I know Germany. But I won't go. I want London. I want my old life. I need to move on. A few days later, Belgium. In a front room of a small apartment, Amy's glances at the framed photograph on the mantelpiece. In it is the face of a smiling young man, a face of one of the SOE agents who died in

the line of duty on behalf of the British government's efforts to set Nazi Europe ablaze. The war might not be over yet, but Ames knows the families of the fallen deserve answers now. He tears his gaze away from the photograph, only to see the dead boy's mother fixing him with a stony gaze from the opposite couch. She is composed, but Amys notices the muscles around her lips twitching. It is clearly a great effort for her to maintain her poise. I'm sorry, but I cannot offer you any coffee.

We have so little of everything. Amys smiles sympathetically, relieved to have something practical to focus on. Please, don't apologize. We have something practical to focus on. Please don't apologize. We have all learned to go without. He realizes the double meaning of his words too late. Amy's watches helplessly as the woman dabs at the sides of her eyes. He feels freshly heartbroken at her determination to remain stoic in front of him. Your son was tremendously brave.

Why could you not have better protected him? Where were you when he needed you? Aimee's instinctively looks away, then forces himself to look back at her. He knows the answer. He was in London, behind a desk. The mother frowns at his silence. He knows the answer. He was in London, behind a desk. The mother frowns at his silence. What difference did you make? All that cloak-and-dagger nonsense.

In the end, the army liberated our country. Four years you spent sending people's sons and daughters to certain capture, or worse, whoever you work for. What did it change? Amys does his best to reassure the woman that, while the Official Secrets Act prevents him from discussing details, her son's work made a great deal of difference. But her question still haunts him. What good did he really do? The woman straightens her silk handkerchief on her knee.

She has said what she needed to. Then suddenly she stiffens again. Have you caught the man who did this to my boy? Him and all the others. Amys looks at his feet. Not yet. But we are close. A couple of months later, December 1944, Brussels.

A Belgian resistance agent watches as a car pulls up at the rendezvous point. as a car pulls up at the rendezvous point. Despite several confirmed sightings, Dezita has so far evaded capture. Reports claim the Nazi collaborator remains active in liberated Belgium, leading anti-allied operations in the country. In an effort to track down the collaborator, the agent has arranged for one of Dezita's accomplices to meet him here.

It's a ploy. He hopes to bribe the man into leading him to De Zita. But to the resistance agent's dismay, an unfamiliar figure exits the car. An unfamiliar figure exits the car. The agent watches as the unknown man heads directly to the pre-arranged spot. Sensing a trap, the Belgian agent signals to three US troops hiding across the road. It's the signal to move in and arrest Dezita's accomplice. But as the agent and the American soldiers approach, the man pulls out a revolver and starts firing at them.

As the soldiers die for cover, the man turns on his heel and springs down the road. Before the Americans and the Belgian agent can regroup, their attacker climbs into a second waiting car. The Belgian agent watches in frustration as the car disappears into the distance. Once again, De Zieta and his gang have got the better of their pursuers. And now the trail's gone cold. January 1946, eight months since the defeat of Nazi Germany, 14 Savile Row, London. Former SOE spymaster, Hardy Ames, smiles in recognition of the customer who just walked into his fashion house.

Emerson, so lovely to see you. How have you been? Amies returned to London from Brussels in early 1945. Soon after, he was discharged from his wartime position and started his own high-end fashion label, the House of Amies. It's only just opened, but has already become one of London's most admired fashion houses. My dear Hardy, I'm well. So glad to read about all your success too. Not that it was in any way unexpected.

Amies steps out from behind the counter. He places his hand on his former colleague's shoulder. I appreciate you visiting. For the past year, Amis has worked hard to forget the war years, his memory of which is dominated by feelings of disappointment. Yes, Amis helped lead efforts to prepare for the liberation of Belgium. But the loss of so many agents, some of whom did not survive the camps to which they were sent, and his failure to track down De Zieta, now haunt his dreams.

Emerson idly browses a rack of sophisticated suit jackets. I now see why you are always so smartly turned out, Hardy. You are too kind. Belgium has certainly left its mark on my work. Emerson catches Amy's double meaning. He checks the store. Satisfied there are no other customers or staff members within earshot, he lowers his voice.

Did you hear they shot us down? The former agents are not supposed to discuss SOE. Its wartime operations remain classified. I'm sorry to hear that. No need for it now, so they say. Appallingly short-sighted, if you ask me. Certainly where Stalin and his cronies are concerned. Now the war's finished, the Soviets can hardly be classed as trusted allies.

Amis flinches. He has no interest in discussing the life from which he is working so hard to move on from. And yet he struggles to contain the urge to inquire as to whether his friend has any news about the hunt for the man with the missing finger. Six months later, June 1946, Wurzburg, Germany. Prosper De Zieta is on his way home from his job as a car mechanic. When Germany's defeat seemed inevitable, Dezita went to ground. Since the end of the war, he has been living under a new assumed name, Wilhelm Troupert, a fake identity provided to him by the Nazis.

He has told almost nobody of his past. The chaos of war gave Dezita a role and a purpose where previously he had none. He had been motivated by money, but also perhaps belonging. Now he mostly spends his days fixing American army jeeps, ever available to work for whomever best suits his interests. For the past year, the Belgian authorities have continued their dogged pursuit of the man many knew as Captain Willie. The true number of SOE agents and resistance fighters who were captured and subsequently executed because of his deception efforts is unknown, but many of those he betrayed are

confirmed to have been executed by the Nazis or to have perished in concentration camps. To further conceal his whereabouts, Dezita has been lodging with German friends. The family's maid opens the door and wordlessly lets him in. Dezita strides into the entrance hall. He feels relief that the maid for once isn't being her usual chatty self and starts to remove his work jacket. But then he sees, out of the corner of his eye, two uniformed men appear from the side

room. Their guns are drawn and pointed at him. Leave your jacket alone. Place your hands on your head. You're under arrest. Dezita slides his arms back into his jacket, but does not yet raise his hands in surrender. Gentlemen, please. I don't know what this is about, but I do know you have the wrong man. We are officers of the Belgian State Security Service. Your name is Prosper De Zieter. You are wanted for war crimes. Put up your hands now. It's over.

The maid scuttles away. Like I say, you have the wrong man. My name is Wilhelm Troupert. The agents ignore De Zieter's protestations. One grabs his arms while the other prepares to place handcuffs around Dezita's wrists. I'm a mechanic. I can take you to the garage right now and we can clear this up. Then you can buy me a drink by way of apology.

One of the state security officers seizes and raises Dezita's right hand. The one with the missing finger. There is no misunderstanding. Two years later, September 17th, 1948, dawn. The gendarmerie barracks, Ixelles, Belgium. Dezita shakes uncontrollably as he disembarks from the ambulance. It came to fetch him from Sajil prison at first light. Several months ago he was found guilty of working for the Nazis,

betraying hundreds of airmen, SOE agents and resistance members, many of whom were sent to concentration camps. There, these men and women underwent torture. Many subsequently died. The court sentenced Dezita to death for his war crimes. The day for that sentence to be carried out has now come. As the Belgian guards lead Dezita into the courtyard,

he sees a crowd of around 30 witnesses and the waiting firing squad. He collapses in a quivering fit of panic and fear. The guards attempt to lift him in vain. Dezita refuses to stand or support his own weight. One of the guards fetches a wooden chair and places it beside Dezita refuses to stand or support his own weight. One of the guards fetches a wooden chair and places it beside De Zita. The men haul him onto the chair,

then carry the chair to the execution post. Stand, face the pole. De Zita slowly rises. He places his arms around the pole, while the guard ties his hands with a piece of rope so that he faces the wall. You will be shot in the back. The traitor's fate. De Zita says nothing. Three decades later, 1977, the house of Amy's fashion house Savile Row, London. It's the day of the silver jubilee, celebrating 25 years of Queen Elizabeth II's reign.

Hardy, Amys and several colleagues are in his fashion house watching the live coverage on TV. On the screen they see a huge crowd has gathered outside Buckingham Palace, many waving little Union Jack flags on sticks. The picture switches to the state gold coach carrying Amy's best-known client. He leans closer, eager to see what the Queen has chosen to wear today. The weather's colder than expected. Amy curses himself for not proposing something made from wool that would have better suited the temperature. He knows the chances of the queen wearing one of his designs

is slim. Inside the gilded royal carriage, they get a glimpse of the queen. Amis gripped his colleague by the arm in shock. Goodness me. Her Majesty has chosen one of Amis' designs, a bright pink silk crepe and chiffon dress. He feels a swell of pride.

The image of the Queen wearing his design will be seen the world over. His dream has come true. In 1950, the Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret visited Amy's shop on 14 Savile Row. There, they tried on numerous dresses. Queen Elizabeth II remained Amy's client for more than 30 years. He died in 2003, at the age of 93. Throughout his long and distinguished career in fashion, Hardy-Amy's provided tailoring to numerous high-profile clients, including the British artist David Hockney,

the Hollywood stars Laurence Olivier and Gregory Peck, and the film director Stanley Kubrick. Despite publishing a memoir about his life in 1984, Ames did not explicitly mention his involvement in Operation Ratweek, nor the efforts to find Azita. Shortly before his death, he told a BBC documentary crew simply that he did not remember a thing about that. Amis, however, was crucial in organizing

and coordinating resistance efforts, particularly in sabotage operations against German forces. His ability to establish effective communication and supply networks contributed to the success of covert actions that disrupted the Nazi occupation. The British government, however, has never publicly acknowledged this. And while Amy's role in Belgium's liberation earned him one of the country's highest honors,

the Order of the Crown, his story remains broadly untold. Join us in the next episode as we look deeper into the complicated and multifaceted links between the intelligence community and the royal family. What counts as loyalty? What counts as betrayal in the tangled web of deceit and power that binds these two worlds? Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of the Spy Who early and ad free on Apple podcasts or the Wondry app. Call insurance for as little as $19 per month. Quick and easy, whether you're self-employed, an entrepreneur, a contractor, or small business

owner, ZenSurance offers the unique coverage you need in a snap. Get an instant price today at ZenSurance.com. Have you got a spy story you'd like us to tell? Email your ideas to thespywho at Wondry.com From Wondry, this is the third episode in our season, The Spy Who Dressed the Queen. A quick note about our dialogue. We can't know everything that was said or done behind closed doors, particularly far back in history,

but our scenes are written using the best available sources. So even if a scene or conversation has been recreated for dramatic effect, it's still based on biographical research. We used many sources in our research for this season, including From SOE Hero to Dressing the Queen by Linda Rowland and Still Here by Hardy Ames, as well as material from the National Archives. The Spy Who is hosted by me, Indra Varma. Our show is produced by Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellow Ant for Wondery. For Yellow Ant, this episode was written by Simon Parkin

and researched by Louise Byrne, with thanks to Ina Bross and Kat Whitehouse. Our managing producer is Jay Priest. For Vespucci, our senior producers are Ashley Clivory and Philippa Gearing. Our sound designer is Ivor Manley. Rachel Byrne is the supervising producer. Music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Friss On Sync. Executive producers for Vespucci are Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turkin. Executive producer for Yellow Ant is Tristan Donovan. Our senior producer for Wondery is Theodora Louloudis and our senior managing producer is Rachel Sibley.

Executive producers for Wondery are Estelle Doyle, Chris Bourne and Marshall Louis.