The King's Prerogative

by Iain Colvin

  ‘That sounds encouraging. The first step has to be him taking us seriously, without that we’re wasting our time.’

  Claire smiled. She liked the thought of there being an ‘us’.

  ‘What time did you say you’d ring him?’

  ‘Seven o’clock.’ She looked at her watch. ‘It’s gone seven, I’ll bring the phone through, you put the dishes in the sink.’

  Chapter 5

  Brian Irving hadn’t stopped since he’d received the telephone call from his former student earlier in the day. He had intended to finish some prep for a lecture he was due to give the following afternoon, but the phone call had knocked him off his stride. The forty-five-year-old had been studying, and then teaching, political history for most of his life. He always made a point of telling every new crop of students that it was healthy to regularly re-examine and reappraise historical events in the light of new facts or new insights. That said, he maintained a profound scepticism when it came to historical mysteries and associated conspiracy theories. Whether it was unexplained events like the finding of the Marie Celeste, the disappearances of Glenn Miller, Jimmy Hoffa or Lord Lucan, or convenient ‘magical mystery’ theories like the Bermuda Triangle, Brian Irving treated them all with a similar bored sense of doubt. But he didn’t mock anyone else for wanting to believe in something that wasn’t there. It was human nature to an extent. It was comforting to be able to offer an explanation for the puzzling or the confusing or the disconcerting, no matter how far-fetched or irrational the explanation might be. He didn’t blame people for choosing to believe in UFOs, the Loch Ness monster or spontaneous human combustion, any more than he would deride anyone who believed in this religion or that religion or that the world was supported on the back of a giant turtle floating in the cosmos. He didn’t believe in them himself because, as he said to his students, where’s the evidence? If he was to apportion blame to anyone for the modern fascination with conspiracy theories it would be to controversial authors, like Erich von Däniken, who made a lot of money from advocating bizarre theories, and who in Brian’s opinion were responsible for popularising the recent trait towards ‘pseudohistory’. As he frequently told his students, ‘If you’re going to join the dots, join them with facts, not lazy speculation masking half-formed research.’

  When Claire Marshall phoned that afternoon, he was first of all surprised to get her call, then pleased to hear from her again, then slightly disappointed in the fact that she’d been taken in by such an implausible story. But then she described how the letter came to be found and what it contained, and Brian had to admit that his interest was piqued despite his better judgement. The odds of course were stacked in favour of the story being completely fabricated and the letter a forgery, but the question that he had to ask himself was, why would someone go to the effort of creating such an opaque hoax? He didn’t know this Craig Dunlop from Adam, and this letter was likely to turn out to be a ‘Piltdown Man’, and yet Claire was prepared to vouch for him and his story. Something in her voice had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He decided that it was at least worth a look, and if it turned out to be a practical joke or a deliberate fraud, he should be able to expose it without too much effort. Since the phone call he’d spent a few hours in the university library and had already made several pages of notes as well as a list of questions to ask this Dunlop bloke. The telephone on his desk rang.

  ‘Brian Irving.’

  ‘Hello, Brian. It’s Claire Marshall again. Are you okay to speak?’

  ‘Hi Claire, yes, it’s fine. Is your friend with you?’

  ‘Yes, he’s here, hold on a second.’ She passed the receiver to Craig.

  ‘Hello, Doctor Irving, it’s Craig Dunlop. Thank you for agreeing to help us.’

  ‘Hello Craig, Claire’s no doubt filled you in on our earlier conversation.’ Brian took a breath before continuing. ‘I have to be up front with you before we start. I explained to Claire that I must approach this from the standpoint that your wallet and letter are not genuine.’ He paused briefly. ‘I am sorry for your recent bereavement, and I’m not in any way casting aspersions on your late grandfather’s character or his intentions, but you do understand that the chances are that the items are… well, not to put too fine a point on it, fake?’

  Craig felt irked, but swallowed his indignation.

  ‘I understand that you need to deal in facts, sir, and I can assure you that’s how I’m approaching it too,’ he said.

  ‘Good. Now, first of all, can you read out exactly what the letter says?’

  Craig read out the letter, slowly. Brian asked him to hold on a couple of times while his note-taking caught up with Craig’s speech. Then he asked Craig to describe how the wallet came to be in his grandfather’s possession. After Craig related the whole story, Brian asked some follow-up questions then paused for a long moment while he read through the notes he had taken down. Finally he spoke again.

  ‘How much do you know about Hess’s flight to Scotland?’

  Craig told him he knew the timeline and the broad outline of events and the official explanation that Hess had come up with this self-imposed peace mission because he felt side-lined from Hitler’s inner circle and thought that a grand gesture would restore him to the Fuhrer’s good graces.

  ‘Yes, that’s the story that’s been handed down over the years,’ agreed Brian Irving.

  ‘But the letter’s existence would imply that there was a genuine peace offer after all,’ added Craig. ‘And that Hess’s flight had been prearranged with the involvement of people from within the British establishment.’

  ‘Quite so, if the letter is genuine. It’s a big “if”. You see, the biggest problem is that there are so many conspiracy theories around the whole mystery. And that lends itself to people seeing what they want to see, or inventing things that back up their pet theory.’

  Craig was about to interrupt but Brian continued.

  ‘I’ve visited the Hess affair during my studies over the years and I’m familiar with all the claims and counter claims. For instance, was it prearranged? Why did he risk the flight at all? Who could have been involved on the British side? Was it carried out under Hitler’s orders or at the very least, with his knowledge? Did British Intelligence lure Hess to fly to Scotland through diplomatic back channels?’

  ‘Did they?’

  ‘Well if they did, they didn’t capitalise on such an astounding propaganda coup. In fact they did their best to cover up the whole affair. Goebbels himself commented on the British missing such a gift-wrapped open goal. It’s not something he would have passed up if the situation had been reversed. But the trouble with all these conflicting theories is that they’re all based on circumstantial evidence. There’s no smoking gun, as it were.’

  ‘Do you think this letter might be the smoking gun?’

  ‘It’s far too early to say, and on its own I’d have to say that it’s unlikely.’

  Craig thought for a moment then asked the question that had been bothering him. ‘Doctor Irving, why would Hess have the letter on him and yet conceal it the way he did?’

  Brian Irving paused. ‘Now that is the $64,000 question. And I confess that’s what has me intrigued. Let’s for a moment assume that the letter is genuine. There are two key questions to ask. One: why was the letter written? Two: why did Hess have it and not use it? Claire told me about your discussion last night and I tend to agree with your assessment that the letter would have been written as a token of good faith. Without it Hess wouldn’t have committed to such a potentially dangerous journey.’

  ‘But why risk flying to Scotland at all? Wouldn’t it have been safer to meet whoever he was due to meet in neutral territory?’

  ‘The obvious answer to that is perhaps he came to Scotland because the person he intended to meet couldn’t leave the country. There’s been all kinds of speculation about who that could have been. And there’s another reason why he could have risked the flight – you also have to
remember the timing. Germany wanted Britain out of the war before June 1941.’

  ‘Why, what happened in June 19–?’ Craig pulled up short. ‘– Hitler invaded the Soviet Union.’

  ‘Indeed. That was the main reason Hess made the flight at that time. The stakes were huge and the clock was ticking.’

  Craig mulled this over. Brian continued. ‘Moving on to the second part of the $64,000 question, we can have a pretty good guess as to why Hess would have had the letter on his person. A letter of safe conduct performs two functions. Firstly, it provides an element of security for the bearer. He knows that if necessary he can use it to ensure fair treatment. Secondly, it provides proof that the bearer is who he says he is.’

  ‘But Rudolf Hess was extremely well known. He was the deputy leader of the Nazi Party.’

  ‘He was. But let’s say the plan went wrong and Hess was captured. Let’s say he fell into the wrong hands. If you were him, what would you do?’

  Craig turned this over in his mind. ‘I’d ask to be taken to whoever was expecting me.’

  ‘And Hess did exactly that. His first words on landing are reported as being ‘Am I on the estate of the Duke of Hamilton? My name is Alfred Horn. Please tell the Duke I have arrived.’ Let’s say a message was relayed to the person – or people – expecting him. How would they know that a lone German airman captured in the middle of the night was who he claimed to be?’

  ‘Because he would have been in possession of the letter,’ said Craig.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Brian Irving.

  ‘Of course. But he gave the wallet to my grandfather and said nothing about the letter hidden in the lining. Why would he do that?’

  ‘We can’t possibly know for sure forty years after the event. The details of his capture are extremely vague. But in contrast to the picture painted of him since, Hess was a careful man who planned meticulously and was very considered in his words and actions.’

  ‘My grandfather said that when the Home Guard arrived at his cottage that night, there was pandemonium all around and yet Hess was the calmest man in the room.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me. So I think it would have been a deliberate decision by Hess. He didn’t want the letter to be found. He may have given the wallet to your grandfather to hide it from his captors.’

  ‘Why? To save the King from embarrassment?’

  ‘Not as such. It wasn’t signed by King George himself, only by, one presumes, an equerry. No, it’s more likely that Hess decided not to expose the people who were expecting him. Any plans for peace discussions would have been guarded by those involved with the utmost secrecy, for obvious reasons. Anyone collaborating to undermine the war effort could have been hanged for treason. In the first hours of Hess’s capture, the outcome of his mission must have been perched on a knife edge. Hess didn’t know who to trust and presentation of the letter to the wrong people could have exposed those involved on the British side before the plan, whatever it was, had been put into effect. So the fact that the letter was hidden is what aroused my interest when Claire called me. Particularly when taken with another often overlooked fact from that night in May 1941. Hess announced himself as Captain Alfred Horn and that was who your grandfather and the Home Guard thought they had captured. But at some point in the course of the night Alfred Horn did something strange.’

  Craig felt a chill run through him. ‘Which was what?’

  ‘He handed over his Iron Cross to his captors. He presumably wanted it delivered to whoever was expecting him as proof of his arrival. His Iron Cross would have been inscribed with Hess’s own name, not that of Alfred Horn. That apparent inconsistency from a man as meticulous as Hess has always puzzled me. But it makes sense if his story was true and he had been expected by a welcoming committee. He needed to get an urgent message to the people waiting for him. The plan had gone awry and Hess was no doubt becoming increasingly concerned as time passed that no one had come to collect him. He was in the dark about what was happening and wanted to alert his guests that he had arrived, but he didn’t want to use the letter of safe conduct. So he blew his own cover without wanting to blow theirs, as it were.’

  Craig absorbed this. So far he’d heard nothing that didn’t corroborate the authenticity of the letter and he could feel his excitement growing.

  Brian Irving continued. ‘But as I said, this is all speculation. To leave the theories aside for the moment, I thought you’d be interested to hear about some initial research I did this afternoon. I tried to find out who this Lieutenant-Colonel William Spelman Pilcher was.’

  Craig looked at Claire and mouthed the word ‘Pilcher’. ‘What did you manage to find out?’

  ‘Well he was born in 1888, served in the Grenadier Guards as the letter suggests, was involved in the British Military Mission to Poland in 1920 to 1921. He retired in 1936. He was a governor of the Royal Bank of Scotland…’

  ‘How strange that he should be a governor of that bank,’ interjected Craig.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s just that I work there. Sorry, I interrupted you, please go on.’

  ‘Our Colonel Pilcher was then re-engaged by the army in 1939. And then nothing.’

  ‘You mean you ran out of time today?’

  ‘No, it means that all trace of him disappears from official records, or at least the ones I was able to reference.’

  ‘Really?’ Craig thought for a second. ‘But it was during the war. Is that so unusual?’

  ‘It is unusual if you’re in Who’s Who one minute and then suddenly you’re not. Not even an obituary.’

  ‘Could it have been an oversight?’

  ‘I don’t think it was. To all intents and purposes he was erased.’

  Craig looked up at Claire again. She mouthed ‘what?’ at him, clearly frustrated that she couldn’t follow the thread of the conversation without hearing both ends.

  ‘Erased? What does that mean?’ asked Craig.

  ‘When someone has an entry in Who’s Who, they continue to be included in each year’s edition while they remain in office or continue to be prominent in their field. Even when they die, there’s an obituary and then their biography is moved into Who Was Who, the companion publication. If they fall into obscurity, the same thing happens, they move to Who Was Who. The last entry for Pilcher was in 1943. Then nothing. Absolutely no record exists. No obituary, no entry in Who Was Who. His name is even missing from the general index of anyone who has ever appeared in Who’s Who at any time in its history. And from what I can tell, there are no other official documents from either the army or the civil service records that would indicate what happened to him. It’s as if he vanished after 1943.’

  Craig processed this for a moment. ‘What do you think it means?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s unheard of. I need to do more research before I can reach any conclusions. I have a feeling there could be more to Lieutenant-Colonel Pilcher than meets the eye. Is there any chance you can send me your letter, registered post, to my office here at the university? I’d like to study it and delve into this some more.’

  ‘Of course, I’d be happy to do that. Would it be useful to meet up in person?’

  ‘Yes it would, but let me do a bit more digging first. I’ve got Claire’s number, shall I ring her when I’ve got more to tell you? I can’t promise I won’t hit a blind alley but I’ll take it as far as I can.’

  ‘That’s all I can ask, Doctor Irving, thank you.’

  ‘No, thank you, and please, call me Brian.’

  Craig said goodbye and handed the receiver to Claire who confirmed the address and then said goodbye too. She put the receiver down and looked at Craig. ‘What are you grinning at?’ she asked.

  ‘I think he’s starting to take us seriously,’ said Craig.

  Chapter 6

  Wednesday 2nd March, 1983.

  In the two weeks since the telephone call with Brian Irving, Claire had sent off the letter as requested and Brian had rung her to confirm tha
t he’d received it. Craig spent most of his spare time at the library, in the evenings and on the Saturday mornings before playing football in the local pub league. He’d devoured every book he could find on Hess, on how Germany conducted the war and about events in Britain during those early war years. It struck him that, with the benefit of what he now knew (or at least, what he believed to be true), a number of facts about those war days slotted into place. First of all, and most pertinently, in May 1941 it was clear that Britain was losing the war. Rommel was winning in North Africa, Greece had fallen, and German U-boats were sinking British shipping at an alarming rate. In addition to that, British cities were suffering a horrendous amount of damage and loss of life from the nightly bombing raids inflicted by the Luftwaffe. The received wisdom since the war was that in 1941 the British bulldog was at its most defiant as the country stood alone against the tyranny of the Nazi war machine. And Churchill with his cigar and his V for victory sign was the living embodiment of the Dunkirk spirit during those dark days.

  The more Craig read, the more he came to believe that it wasn’t quite as black and white as that. From a personal point of view, Churchill’s own position wasn’t as secure as post-war legend would have people believe. He had endured a confidence vote in the House of Commons on 7th May 1941, only a few days before Hess’s flight. Even as late as 1942, every parliamentary byelection candidate who had the Prime Minister’s backing was routed at the polls. There were a number of prominent politicians and establishment figures who favoured peace, including David Lloyd George, Lord Halifax, Lord Beaverbrook and Sir Samuel Hoare. Craig had come to the conclusion that the existence of a peace group in Britain in 1941 wasn’t a strange idea after all.