In Spite of All Terror

by V M Knox

  Clement looked up at Morris, his mind reeling. What did the Chief Inspector suspect? Mary had gone to Windsor, to Gwen’s. Leaning forward, he grasped the armrests of the chair, his hands shaking, then stood. He wanted to telephone Gwen. There had to be some mistake. He knew he had phoned Gwen’s number previously. Then, the lines had been crossed, that was all. Besides, Mary had answered the second time. How was that possible if she had not been at Gwen’s house? The neighbours were mistaken. He stared at Morris’s concerned face. ‘Dear God! You think they have kidnapped Mary?’

  ‘It should not be ruled out.’

  Hurrying into the hall, he dialled Gwen’s number. ‘Hello Gwen. It’s Clement. Is Mary with you?’ he asked, trying to sound calm.

  ‘No. I haven’t seen her in weeks, Clement. Is everything alright?’

  ‘Yes, Gwen. She went up to London shopping and said that if she had time she would call in on you. Nothing to worry about.’ He knew the excuse was ridiculous, but it was all he could think of on the spur of the moment. His head was spinning. It did not make any sense. Why would she lie? ‘I don’t know what to think, Arthur.’

  ‘I think, Clement, that there is more to what has been happening than we have been told. We should speak again with Commander Winthorpe. Perhaps he can shed some light on it all.’

  ‘If you think so, Arthur.’ But Clement’s pulse was still racing and his head ached. He took a long deep breath, and walking back to his study, sat down. Why would Mary have lied to him? It made no sense. He took another sip of brandy. They had been married over twenty years. They shared everything. He knew her. He looked around the familiar room feeling the realization of a deception revealed.

  Arthur Morris sat in the chair beside him. ‘I have to ask myself a question, Clement. Well, two questions, really. Why did Commander Winthorpe telephone me to say that he was having Jane followed and not you? And how did he know it was Jane?’

  Clement placed the glass on the table beside him and pondered what Arthur had just said. He thought back to when Johnny had come to Fearnley Maughton. That was before he and Mary had met the girl they had known as Elsie Wainwright at the bus shelter in Lewes. Clement sat upright, frowning. Johnny had never met Jane. ‘Only someone from the village would recognise Jane as Elsie. Unless,’ Clement paused. ‘He knew her beforehand.’

  Morris’s head was nodding. ‘My thoughts also, Clement.’

  Clement slumped back in the chair, overwhelmed. He felt bone weary. Surely it wasn’t possible that Johnny had betrayed him? Had Johnny killed the very people he had helped to unite? And where was Mary? Clement’s limbs felt heavy and he could feel the blood draining from his face. He stared through the drawn curtains to the day beyond. Everything around him was like walking into a spider’s web - felt but unseen. Whichever way he looked, he couldn’t see the way clear.

  ‘First things first, Clement. We telephone Commander Winthorpe and go from there,’ Morris was saying.

  Clement stood and walked into the hallway but his footsteps felt like he was walking on quicksand. He reached for the telephone and dialled the number. ‘Commander Winthorpe, please.’

  The telephone line clicked and crackled. He spoke to three male voices before he heard Johnny’s voice on the line.

  He placed his hand over the mouthpiece and nodded to Arthur as Johnny said hello.

  ‘Something else happened, Clement?’ Johnny asked.

  ‘Tell me something, Johnny. Who is following Jane?’

  There was a short pause.

  ‘We have several people on it. They change every hour or so,’ Johnny said.

  ‘Are you going to tell me who?’ he asked, his voice becoming insistent.

  ‘Not over the phone.’

  Clement could hear other voices on the line. They seemed to be in the background and he fancied that Johnny was at some meeting and had taken the call in a public place. At least, Clement hoped that was the case. ‘Chief Inspector Morris thinks we don’t have much time. The main suspect has not been seen since lunchtime yesterday.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘Where are you, Clement?’ Johnny asked.

  ‘At home. Chief Inspector Morris is with me.’

  ‘Can you and the Chief Inspector be at Lewes Police Station within the hour?’ Johnny asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  Clement heard the line go dead. He turned to Morris. ‘I think Commander Winthorpe is not in London. In fact, he could be quite close by.’

  Morris nodded.

  ‘This is more than murder, isn’t it, Arthur. We are talking espionage, aren’t we?’

  ‘Quite possibly.’

  Clement went to the kitchen and made a pot of tea, but everything in the kitchen reminded him of Mary. ‘Combe Martin!’ he said, holding the tea pot in mid-air.

  Morris looked up. ‘The West Country?’

  ‘Of course. That is where she is, Arthur,’ he said stirring the pot. ‘I asked her to go there a week or so ago, when I thought the invasion was at hand. There is no telephone there, but I can get a message to her through the postmistress.’ His mind flashed to Ilene Greenwood. ‘In fact, the postmistress will probably know where she is. They all seem to know everything.’

  Morris smiled. ‘May I use the telephone first, Clement? I would like to call the Chief Superintendents in all the coastal towns and ask them to keep a look out for two people answering the descriptions of Jane and Doctor Haswell.’

  Thirty minutes later they drove out of Fearnley Maughton. Clement had never felt so despondent or so exhausted in his whole life. Even the trenches of France had not had the same effect upon him. His call to Combe Martin had only resulted in the postmistress confirming that she hadn’t seen Mary. Was Morris correct? Was it espionage? He felt completely bewildered by the turn of events. His thoughts went to Mary. He loved her, and he believed she loved him. What had caused her to lie to him? Yet, if he was fair, he had withheld his involvement in the Auxiliary Units from her. They had been married twenty years. They finished each other’s sentences, such was their affinity. That Mary should have a double life was unfathomable. He felt alone and betrayed.

  Morris pulled the car into the police parking area at the rear of the Lewes Police Station, and pulling on the handbrake, turned off the engine. From his seat in the car, Clement could see both Inspector Russell’s car and Doctor Haswell’s parked in the police compound. He got out of the car and stared at the vehicles. For the first time he realized how similar they were. Walking towards them he stared at the tyres on both.

  ‘I told you I would make a detective out of you, Clement,’ Morris said.

  ‘Are they identical?’

  ‘No. Doctor Haswell’s car is a Humber Super Snipe, to be precise, and Inspector Russell’s is an Austin Twelve. But they both have long wheel bases and four doors and six side windows. They have similar front wheel arches and both have a rounded shape over the boot. And, perhaps more importantly, they are both black. Only the grilles are different. With both cars parked front to curb, as they were in the rear lane behind the police station in Fearnley Maughton, the grilles are not visible. And with the wartime modifications that are required of all vehicles, the cars do look remarkably similar.’

  ‘So it was Inspector Russell’s car that drove into Maughton Forest?’

  Morris shook his head. ‘No, I don’t believe so. While the body was found in Doctor Haswell’s car, I do not believe it was either the Doctor’s car or Inspector Russell’s that was in the forest.’

  Clement stared at Morris. ‘If not either of these cars, then whose?’

  ‘Another good question, Clement.’

  ‘What is going on, Arthur?’

  ‘Do you know something interesting?’

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘When we brought Inspector Russell’s car to Lewes we had to jump-start it. The car keys are missing. They were not on Inspector Russell, neither were they in or on his desk. Nor were they in the safe. Nor at Inspector Russell’s ho
me. Constable Matthews says that the Inspector kept the keys to his car on his person. However, I am also informed that Inspector Russell’s car keys have a distinctive key ring with a Celtic cross medallion.’

  ‘You think the car was used?’ Clement asked.

  ‘I do. Find the car keys and we find the murderer.’

  ‘But if the murderer returned the safe keys, why wouldn’t he replace the car keys?’

  ‘Because the car was used after Inspector Russell’s body was removed from the police station.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet,’ Morris replied. They heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. ‘But I think we are about to find out.’ Morris tilted his head in the direction of a black car that was pulling into the police yard. ‘That must be the fastest trip from London on record, if that is where Commander Winthorpe came from.’

  Johnny got out of the vehicle wearing his Royal Navy uniform and greeted Clement. Together, they walked into the police station and followed Morris to an office at the end of a long corridor.

  ‘You came from London, Commander?’ Morris asked, removing his overcoat and hanging his hat on the stand in his office.

  Johnny shook his head. ‘Not even I can drive that fast, Chief Inspector. In fact, I have been at a meeting at Petworth on an unrelated matter. I couldn’t say over the phone, Clement, but Jane is heading south east. Possibly Eastbourne. But it could be somewhere further east. Tell me what’s been happening.’

  Clement told Johnny what he and Morris had found in the Anderson Shelter. ‘All the murder victims are from the village except one, the man my men believed to be a vagrant. A description of him was in our report that was stolen, and for which at least two people have died.’

  ‘Is the body of the vagrant still in the mortuary?’ Johnny asked.

  ‘I have arranged for you to be taken to Lewes Hospital’s mortuary to see the body of the seaman, as we are calling him, on your arrival,’ Arthur told Johnny. ‘Perhaps we should do this first. Once you confirm the identity of your man, if it is your man, perhaps you would like to inform us what is really behind the murders in Fearnley Maughton?’

  Clement saw Johnny lean back in the chair. He was staring at Morris, a slow smile spreading over his lips.

  Forty minutes later they were back in Morris’s office.

  ‘How were you so sure he was my man, Chief Inspector?’ Johnny asked.

  Morris held Johnny’s gaze. ‘If he had been a deserter, I would have been given a name and a description. And I would have had a visit from the Military Police. Likewise, if he had been a German spy I would have been deluged with telephone calls from London and Special Branch. That no-one was asking about this man led me to only one conclusion.’

  Johnny smiled. ‘Quite so. And a lesson for us all, Chief Inspector. The seaman, or the man you believed to be a vagrant, Clement, was Naval Lieutenant Roger Ellis. Ellis is, or rather was, one of my men. Sorry, Clement, but church duties for me have really taken a back seat. And the Archdeacon thing is only for the duration of the war. It allows me to travel around Britain in clerical garb when a degree of secrecy is called for, and I always have a place to stay away from hotels and other more public places. Ellis was stationed at a top-secret location in Cuckmere Haven, known as His Majesty’s Ship Forward. It is there that all Royal Navy battle plans are formalized. So you see just how vital it is that the facility at Forward remains secret. However, it had become apparent from intercepted German chatter that the enemy had become aware of some activity at Cuckmere Haven. That being the case, we saw little point in trying to conceal it from them. In fact, rather than attempting to hide it and thereby making the Germans even more curious, we saw it as a golden opportunity. It has taken over a year for Ellis to establish his cover and, more importantly, for his information to be believed. His death is a major blow.’

  ‘He was feeding misinformation?’ Clement asked.

  Johnny nodded. ‘Yes. We know he had a contact in Fearnley Maughton, although we never knew who. The contact went by the code name Phoebe. Ellis would deliver the information to Phoebe in Maughton Forest. That contact would then send the information onto the Abwehr by radio. Ellis had become suspicious about Phoebe and reported it to me. The interesting thing about our work is not only listening to what is said but also what isn’t. Phoebe had changed and even failed to make the rendezvous on several occasions. Never a good sign. Changes in habit have to be investigated. Perhaps Ellis asked too many questions and Phoebe became suspicious. Unfortunately, we will never know the answer to that. And, Ellis, of course, was the only person who could identify Phoebe.

  ‘Doctor Haswell,’ Clement said thinking of the times he had seen Phillip Haswell drive away from Fearnley Maughton. He had always believed the Doctor was visiting the sick in Lewes Hospital or doing rounds, not keeping appointments with Naval Lieutenants.

  ‘He must have seen the Royal Engineers on one of his rendezvous in the forest, and found the Operational Base,’ Clement said thinking of George.

  ‘Yes. But knowing Phoebe’s real name now is of little use. We suspect the bird has flown, although we do not know where, precisely. We hope he will rendezvous with Jane, which is why we haven’t apprehended her as yet. Don’t want her disappearing before she makes contact with Doctor Haswell, if he really is Phoebe.’

  ‘Is there any doubt?’ Morris asked.

  ‘Until the individual is caught, there is always the possibility of error.’ Johnny added.

  ‘Who recognised Jane?’ he asked.

  ‘Just one of my people.’

  ‘I understand you grew up on the coast, Clement?’ Johnny said. ‘Considering Jane is heading east, it could be useful if you were to come along.’

  ‘Of course.’ Clement couldn’t stop thinking about Phillip Haswell. ‘He lived among us in Fearnley Maughton for three years. Why now? What changed?’

  ‘It could have been the establishment of the Auxiliary Units,’ Johnny said. ‘But I don’t think so. Especially as Doctor Haswell could not have known about the team’s existence. Or perhaps someone was just getting too close.’

  ‘Or he had what he came for?’ Morris added.

  Johnny raised his eyebrows. ‘Perhaps. But I think he would have remained in situ for the duration of the war. It is my opinion that he would only break cover if he had a vital piece of information that could not be sent by wireless, or if he was in danger of discovery. I feel certain that the strafing run was arranged for no other reason than to blow up the radio transmitter.’

  ‘And the murders of George and Stanley, David Russell and Constable Newson?’ Clement asked.

  ‘It would seem that Jane was called in to assist Haswell’s escape and to aid in any other sabotage. Perhaps the murders of members of your team, Clement, were for no other reason than that Stanley Russell had told her about the group and shown the girl the weapons. While the Auxiliary Unit could well have been the catalyst for Haswell’s flight, the information from Cuckmere Haven would appear to be the real reason for Doctor Haswell to break cover.’ He paused. ‘But I don’t think so. I think that is what we are meant to think. While Phoebe was receiving what he believed to be accurate information, why would he leave? But, if Phoebe learned of the existence of Coleshill and its location, that would be a real coup for the Abwehr and an excellent reason for breaking cover. Every cell in the country would be wiped out and the training camp targeted. The elimination of Coleshill and every Auxiliary Unit cell would render us vulnerable to invasion. If they can win the war in the air before we can properly regroup and rearm after Dunkirk, there would not be much stopping them on the ground. It would be a complete walkover. And even if we did somehow stop the Germans from landing, the elimination of Coleshill and its work would set our war effort back at least twelve months. This knowledge is a major coup for the Germans. Certainly worth breaking cover for. They will probably award him the Iron Cross.

  ‘Stanley must have told Jane,’ said Morris. ‘She certainly kne
w about his pack. And finding the list in Inspector Russell’s safe gave her the names of the other members of the team. It is the only answer.’

  ‘But Stanley didn’t know about the existence of the list,’ Clement told them. ‘Moreover, the list contained nothing else but names. No mission, no regimental identification...’ Clement stopped speaking.

  ‘Clement?’ Johnny asked.

  ‘It was in an official envelope. Ministry of Home Security. That would have been enough for them to open the letter.’

  ‘But how did they know it was there?’ Johnny asked.

  The room was silent.

  ‘Inspector Russell must have told someone. He was the only other person who knew it existed. Other than me and Johnny and Gubbins.’

  ‘Perhaps they opened the safe as a matter of course,’ Morris said.

  ‘Well, no point speculating on it now,’ Johnny said. ‘We have a Nurse and a Doctor to find as a matter of priority.’

  The large constable appeared in the doorway. ‘Sorry to interrupt, Sir, but there is an urgent telephone call for Commander Winthorpe.’

  ‘May I?’ Johnny asked gesturing towards Morris’ telephone on the desk.

  Morris nodded.

  Three minutes later Johnny replaced the receiver. ‘Do you have enough petrol for a trip to the coast right now, Chief Inspector?’

  ‘It can be arranged. Where to, exactly?’ Morris asked.

  ‘That was Gubbins on the phone,’ Johnny said. ‘He has just heard from Y- section. Y-section listens in on our enemy’s conversations. They have correlated some chatter they heard a day or so ago with a deciphered Jerry message to a U-Boat in the North Sea. There is to be a pick up. Scheduled for the high tide at zero four hundred hours tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Where?’ Morris asked.

  ‘Winchelsea Beach.’

  ‘Are you with us, Clement?’ Morris asked.

  Clement nodded. He felt exhausted. They had been awake since four o’clock in the morning, but he was not going to miss confronting Phillip Haswell. Clement pictured all the dead and injured from the strafing raid. George Evans’s pale face was locked forever in his memory. Lieutenant Ellis, Constable Newson. Even David Russell. But the one he particularly wanted to avenge was Stanley. Gullible Stanley, whose only crime was to fall in love.