.... But I had to know much more about Istamboul, as it was coming to be called, before I could write a full-length novel with that city as the background. Another friend of mine had lived there for a long time and offered to collaborate with me.

This was George H. Hill, known as Peter, and he was one of the most interesting men I have ever met. He was an Englishman born in Estonia, his father having been a wood exporter there. As a young man he went into our Secret Service, where he was known as IK8, and, being bilingual, he was sent to Russia. When the Bolsheviks gained power first our Ambassador was recalled, and then that charming and gifted writer, Robert Bruce-Lockhart, who had been left as British representative. Peter became the only source of information that the British Government had about events in Bolshevik-held territory. His adventures as a secret agent were fascinating. Most remarkable of all, he succeeded in smuggling the Russian Crown jewels out of Rumania.

When peace was at last restored, MI6 no longer had any use for him, so he had a very hard time. He and his wife, Dorothy, had to live in a caravan in a farmer’s field in Sussex, and his only source of income was as adviser to film companies who were making films about Russia. He acted in this capacity when the film of The Forbidden Territory was made, which was how i came to meet him.

I am happy to relate that he turned up in the Second World War as a Brigadier with three rows of medal ribbons. After the war, he became manager of the Apploinaris Company in Germany, which he re-organised so successfully that, for the last ten years of his life, he owned a fine house and was driven about by a chauffeur in a big Mercedes.

Reverting to The Eunuch of Stamboul, the title I gave my new story. The late spring of that year was extremely hot. Peter used to come to No. 48 in the afternoons, lie in his shirt sleeves full length on the sofa knocking back whiskies and sodas, while I sat at a small table taking notes of all he could tell me about Istamboul and Mohammedan customs.

Drink and Ink pp 137-8