Robert Tries to Spy

A Secret Agent, a Black Castle and a Very Unusual Espionage Mission

Robert has spent years lying dormant in the East European town of Nudvoski, hiding in plain sight as a respected jazz pianist while secretly working for Nutwood Central. When the call finally comes, he is plunged into a bewildering world of resistance fighters, double dealing, suspicious football matches and increasingly improbable clues.

His most reliable contact is Rosa, a resourceful agent with secrets of her own, while the plucky terrier Towza soon becomes an indispensable member of their unlikely team. Together they follow a dangerous trail through dark woods and strange encounters towards the mysterious Black Castle, where rumours of industrial-scale vegetables point to a plot far more sinister than Robert imagined.

As old enemies emerge and loyalties are tested, Robert will need every ounce of ingenuity he possesses — along with some unexpected talents — to survive.

Robert Tries to Spy by Mike Pearson is a warm, funny espionage adventure packed with secret agents, eccentric characters, improbable escapes and plenty of jazz.

Discover Robert’s strangest mission yet and enter a spy story where almost anything can happen.

Excerpt from the book

A trust betrayed, a contact tarnished

But Roberts plans are still unvarnished

His plucky chum brought down to Earth

His bedroom trashed for all it’s worth.

Spring mornings in Nutvodsky open slowly with whispered possibility. There are secrets known to the scuttling meerkat or darting sparrows who flit about the small town square then lose themselves among the cobbles. Two old dogs grumble beneath the local statue of Staling. They have lined faces and eyes that have seen too much. Their paws are rough, hardened by long marches - but they are survivors and have carried their history with them. They share what’s left of a dark cigarette then lift old legs against the statue. A mildewed terrier joins them and they twitch their tails in oath edged talk.

Their surly banter drifted fitfully up to the third floor of the Boski Apartments where a fellow on a tiny balcaony was enjoying his coffee and rye bread. For him the drink had never lost its dark hint of hazard, like the Russian bears who staffed the local Stasi. The bread was taking some chewing, like the half-baked reforms ‘granted’ to the citizens through Stalings recent reforms.

The old birds liberal gestures had taken everyone by surprise and set off a domino collapse of old certainties and a series of messages from Nutwood Central to a carefully placed mole. Who, by a masterly stroke of homespun subterfuge, was really a bear - Robert Bear, code named ‘Herbert’ who has been living under cover as a pianist in Nutvodsky, and out of town for gigs, with two local swingers making up his trio. The past four years had seen him earn a reputation as a hot dog, a cool cat and a strange fellow, all welcome as cover for this master of other changes. He reflected on the previous nights job at The Laughing Cow Club and knew it had been a gas. They’d played a medley of Duke Elephant songs which was still going round at the back of his head. The recent contact from Central had forced him to see how happy he’d been, how much it would suit him to never see the Old Mill Stream, the Old School Lane or Tiger Lily again. He tapped out the melody of ‘Satin Dog’ with a teaspoon and a plucky sparrow perched on his coffee cup. ‘Hey baby, I’m tootin’ your tune.’ He crooned.

‘You’re right Comrade Robski and then some - I heard the news today old boy, from Nutwood Central. They want their top man to get out and about and, get this, you make a connection with a real live Russian Babe for further orders. Listen up Bub then I gotta split.’