“What do you think's in them, boss?” asked Winston.
“Why, gold, of course, Mr Fortune. What else were you expecting?”
They whirled round to see the face of Walter Graves grinning at them. His left hand had a firm grip on Sally's elbow, and in his right hand, hanging loosely at his side, was a gun!
Chapter 42
“Graves!” Winston spoke first as Joe looked in horror at the gun in the historian's hand.
“If you've hurt one hair on her head, Graves, I'll bloody kill you with my bare hands if I have to,” Cutler blurted out.
“Joe, no, you don't understand,” said Sally as both Cutler and Fortune assumed a defensive stance, ready to react to any threatening move from Graves.
“No, Joe, you don't” said Graves, releasing Sally's arm. Joe was surprised that Sally made no effort to move away from Graves. She remained by his side.
“What the hell's going on here?” asked a confused Winston. Sally's attitude was at odds with that of a kidnap victim. She was too calm.
“Please, Joe, let him explain,” Sally implored.
At that moment, the piercing sound of a police siren could be heard approaching from not far away. The sound was soon followed by the appearance of a police car which pulled up at the end of the track about 40 yards away, disgorging four officers who slowly made their way up the shallow incline towards the gathering in the field.
“He can explain to them,” said Joe as the police officers drew closer.
Graves made no move to get away; instead, he stood quite still, the gun at his side as they waited for the officers to arrive.
“Am I glad to see you?” Joe shouted when he was sure that the policemen could hear him clearly.
“Mr Graves?” one of the officers shouted in reply.
“I'm Graves,” said the man in question.
“My name's Inspector Murray, sir. I was told to expect you here.”
“What the fuck? said Winston. “Will someone tell us what's going on here? Why don't you arrest him? He's a killer and a…”
“Winston!” Sally shouted at her friend. “He's not one of the bad guys. Will you please just listen to him for a minute?”
Stunned by Sally's outburst Winston and Joe fell silent as Graves finally moved, not towards them, but off to one side with Inspector Murray. After a hurried conversation Graves turned back to face the two perplexed surveyors.
“Gentlemen, you must forgive my subterfuge and my behaviour towards you over the last few days. In my job you can never be sure who you can and cannot trust. You could have been in the pay of the Maitlands, or freelance treasure hunters, the only thing I knew for sure was that you were no friends of Malcolm Capshaw.”
“But who the hell are you then if you're not one of them?” asked Joe Cutler.
“I'm a humble servant of Her Majesty's Government, Mr. Cutler, a special investigator for the Treasury, and my job for the last few years has been the tracing and recovery of certain, shall we say, missing articles either belonging to H.M. Government, or the governments of our allies? You'd be amazed at the monetary value that lies beneath the ground or in hidden vaults and illegal bank accounts around the world. Why, what you're standing on at the moment has an estimated value of around £7,000,000.”
“Seven million pounds!” Winston was stunned, as was Joe by Graves's revelation of his true identity and by the staggering value of the gold they had just unearthed.
“But where did it come from, and what had the Maitlands and Capshaw to do with it?”
As they spoke a second police car arrived down the lane and four burly constables approached with spades in their hands. They soon joined two of the original officers in helping to dig the two boxes free from the earth. Joe and Winston hardly noticed them. Together with Sally, they allowed Graves to lead them to the side of the field where they all sat in a circle on the grass. Graves continued his narrative.
“In 1940, the war was going particularly well for Germany, not so well for the British. The government decided to take the drastic measure of transferring a proportion of the country's gold reserves out of the country to prevent them falling into the Nazi's hands if the Germans launched a successful invasion of this country. Canada was our largest Commonwealth ally, and the National Depository of Canada was thought to be the ideal location to store the gold. It was far enough from these shores to ensure that the Nazis would never get their hands on it and it could be used to finance a government in exile and a liberating re-invasion of the country if the need were ever to arise.
To avoid arousing the suspicions of any potential spies, it was decided to ship the gold across the Atlantic on an ordinary freighter in one of the many convoys that plied the route at the time.”
“The Livara!” said Joe.
“Correct. Unfortunately, the Livara's owner Harry Blandford was an associate of old Samuel Maitland, the grandfather of Boris and Karl, and he had arranged to be kept informed of any `likely' targets for his enterprises that might be carried by the ship. Maitland was heavily involved in the black market and even a case full of tinned peaches could have brought him a handsome profit in those days. Usually, he had the odd seaman bribed to pass information on to him, but eventually he thought it wise to have someone in authority, an officer on board who would have been privy to more lucrative information.”
“Hogan?” Joe said.
“Precisely. That was just bad timing as far as the government was concerned. They had no idea that Hogan was involved with Maitland. They'd probably never even heard of him. They chose the Livara at random from the list of ships due for convoy duty, but owing to the importance of the cargo it was thought prudent to inform the Captain and his officers of the ship of the nature of that cargo and to explain to them the necessity of a contingent of marines being placed on board for the duration of the voyage. Hogan, of course, went running to Maitland with the information just as fast as his treacherous legs could carry him, and Maitland laid out his plans to relieve the government of a proportion of the gold.
The gold was ferried from London to Bristol in a convoy of trucks and when they stopped for a break along the way, Maitland's men were waiting. They ensured that the rear truck in the convoy had a puncture, then as it lingered behind while the driver and guard changed the tyre, they struck. The bodies of the two soldiers were found in a ditch three days after, the truck abandoned nearby in a disused quarry. The six men who carried out the hijacking included James Hogan. The plan was to bury the gold somewhere it could be retrieved later, after the hue and cry died down. It was too heavy and the boxes too bulky to transport back to London without fear of discovery. Unfortunately for Hogan, Sam Maitland didn't want to take the slightest chance that he might be tied to the crime through Hogan, so he gave orders for Hogan to `disappear' after the theft. After all, many seamen simply failed to turn up for a voyage and were quickly replaced and forgotten about. That's how Hogan ended up in the field, killed by his own confederates. By all accounts, no-one mourned his passing.”
“What about the rest of the gold?” asked Winston, interrupting Graves.
“The rest of the gold reached Bristol safely. When the theft was discovered, it was assumed that word of the transfer had leaked out, and rather than load it onto the Livara, it was placed on board the Dominion Princess, another ship in the convoy that was due to sail without an outward cargo. To deflect any wrongdoers from the gold's new location, it was decided to allow the marines to remain aboard and sail on the Livara as planned. No-one would know that the gold was safely loaded on board the other ship until it docked in Canada.”
“Did the Dominion Princess reach Canada?”
“Yes, Joe, it did. The gold was returned to the UK after the war, but the theft of the two containers comprising 100 bars of gold in total was never made public. It was thought that such news would have had a detrimental effect on national morale though the crime was never forgotten in official circles. I've already told you its value at today's pri
ces.”
“But why wasn't it found until now? And how did the authorities know that Sam Maitland was behind the theft? More to the point, why didn't he have it dug up as he'd planned?” asked Winston.
“I don't know why, but the men who carried out the theft chose this as the burial place for the gold. Maybe it was because it was the first town they came to after the theft that was near enough to their route. Anyway, one of them drew a map showing where they'd buried it, but he wasn't very accurate and nothing was to scale.
Worse, there was no starting point on it apart from the mention of the name Glastonbury, and a general layout of the land around what today is Maiden's Farm. He also forgot to put the obligatory `X marks the spot', just to compound things. Then, as if to make things worse, the thieves caught a train to Bristol. There was an air raid that night and the train was struck by a German bomb. The men were in the third carriage and were all killed, except for one. He survived long enough to relate some of his tale to a doctor in the hospital who wrote it down in a notebook, and then foolishly tried to sell the book to Sam Maitland. The doctor met with an unfortunate end, as did the surviving thief, who died mysteriously in his hospital bed while recovering from his wounds.”
“That's the notebook you've been carrying around,” said Sally. “You showed it to me in your room last night.”
“You stayed in his room last night?” Winston was incredulous.
“Actually, Sally spent much of yesterday chained to a wall in one of the old tunnels that run under the town,” said Graves. “Once I was sure that you were all on the level I transferred her to my room at Meare Manor, where she slept most comfortably in my bed, while I curled up in a chair.”
“There's one thing that bugs me,” said Joe. “How did you know when the Maitland's would start looking for the gold? They could have been searching for it for years.”
“They were, Joe. The police have had them under surveillance for years. Both Sam and the boys' father set searches in motion that never bore fruit, and when Karl and Boris set up Capshaw to lead the hunt this time we were ready for them.”
“But how did you know they'd send for you?” the question came from Winston again.
“I've spent years in what we call `deep cover', Winston. You'll have heard of that. The business of me having a problem in the Falklands, leaving the army, the history degree and the Indiana Jones lifestyle all gave me a perfect background and cover to hunt down various big time currency thieves and embezzlers. I'd done work for Capshaw before and when the Maitlands came calling it was a foregone conclusion that they'd want Walter Graves on the job. A private investigator named Silas Bowling who I was supposed to kill for Capshaw is safely living in an MI5 safe house as we speak.”
“What about the men who died in some of your previous `investigations'?” Joe asked.
“None of them were premeditated killings, Joe, I assure you. I only killed them when it was a matter of necessity, in self-defence. I'm not as cold-blooded as you think. As for you, if you'd found the gold I'd have arranged for you to stay in a safe house until we had the others in custody. I had orders from Capshaw to kill you if you'd succeeded.”
“So I assume that now you've found the gold you'll be arresting the lot of them,” Winston inquired.
“Well, Karl is dead, and Capshaw will be picked up later this morning, and Boris will be spoken to at length.”
“Hang on,” said Joe. “Boris will be spoken to at length? Won't he be arrested along with…wait a minute. I've been wondering who you were on the phone to so much when we were working. How come you knew so much about the original theft and the Maitland's business affairs? Boris Maitland is working for you, isn't he?”
“In a manner of speaking, Joe, yes he is. You see, Boris learned a long time ago that crime doesn't really pay. Most of his businesses are 100% legitimate; it was Karl who was the real career criminal in the family, and he's dead now, and believe me Boris won't mourn his brother for a minute longer than is necessary. Oh yes, there'll be the usual London gangland funeral with horse drawn coach and all, but after that I think you'll find that Boris will soon forget his little brother. Anyway, Boris approached the Treasury some years ago with a proposal regarding the `family legacy' as he called it. If he helped us to find the gold, the treasury would pay him a percentage of its value, and the country gets the rest. A deal was struck and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“But what about those two young women in Hereford?” Joe asked.
“Ah, yes, so unfortunate. Boris wanted Karl to take the Raeburn girl back to London where he would have spoken to her and if necessary paid her off to make her forget about her involvement with Capshaw, and ensure her silence. He didn't know that Karl had crossed the border into murderous sexual psychosis, and Boris was more than furious when he found out what his brother had done.”
“Did he ask you to kill Karl?” asked Winston.
“I think I'll remain tight-lipped on that question if you don't mind, Mr. Fortune.”
“Don't you think he's like a real-life James Bond?” Sally asked the others, as she stared admiringly at Graves.
“What happened to Indiana Jones?” laughed Joe.
The policeman in charge of the digging party called out to Graves.
“Sir, I think you might want to take a look at this.”
Graves motioned for the others to follow him, and a few seconds later they were staring down at the contents of the first box.
“Wow,” said Joe.
“My God,” said Winston.
“Beautiful,” was Sally's response as the sun reflected a brilliant yellow glow as it beat down on the rows of gold bars that had lain beneath the earth for so long, and that had cost so many lives.
“Your share of the finders' fee should put Strata Survey Systems on its feet for quite some years to come, Joe,” said Graves quietly to Cutler.
“You mean I actually get paid for this?”
“All of you will, even Lucius Doberman. I'll make sure of it,” said Graves, reaching out a hand and shaking the one Joe Cutler offered in return.
“I couldn't have found it without you.”
As if on cue, a car screeched to a halt at the bottom of the lane. The tall distinguished figure of Lucius Doberman came running up the slope towards the others. He arrived, out of breath, arms flapping like a wallowing seagull, and the words simply tumbled from his mouth as he babbled; “Joe, you'll never believe it. I phoned Marcus, and he phoned the chief constable who phoned someone in Whitehall and they all phoned each other back and then Marcus phoned me back and told me the most amazing story…”
Chapter 43
Malcolm Capshaw was arrested later that day and subsequently sentenced to a ten year jail sentence for incitement to murder and various financial offences thanks to information secretly provided by Graves and Boris Maitland. Boris's cover was protected by the authorities and he continues to be a source of invaluable help to the police in their fight against organised crime. His cover, if anything, is better than anything Walter Graves could ever have hoped for.
Lucius Doberman returned to Oxford, and still keeps in touch with his friends from Strata Survey Systems and is often an honoured guest at parties at Joe Cutler's home. Like Joe, Winston and Sally, and all those concerned with the case of the Livara's gold, he was asked to sign the Official Secrets Act, and he can never discuss the case or his involvement in it with anyone apart from those who played a part in the recovery of the treasure trove.
Winston was well rewarded and bought a houseboat where he soon settled in with his new friend, a Skye terrier which he named Lucius in honour of Doberman. Joe gave him the official title of Deputy Managing Director of Strata Survey Systems, while Sally bought a house and continued to work for Joe in her new capacity as Operations Director.
With his share of the finders' fee Joe Cutler was able to expand the business and soon found himself employing a total of ten people working from his office on the brand new industr
ial estate just outside Cheltenham. The business continued to grow with contracts arriving from some unexpected sources. Joe surmised that one or two of the contacts he'd made during the Glastonbury mystery may have encouraged certain organisations to place some of that business his way.
Mavis Hightower was at last a true `office manager' with a filing clerk and an office junior at her disposal. She still `mothered' Joe and the others and used her share of the reward to take a round the world cruise with her friend from G.C.H.Q. Betty Hunter, after buying her nephew a new car.
Not long after her return to the office, her head still full of the memories and mental images of that wonderful six weeks at sea, Mavis answered the telephone. She listened carefully to the voice that spoke in measured tones at the other end of the line, asked the caller to wait a moment while she checked to see if Mr. Cutler was available, and then switched the call to `hold' as she buzzed through to her boss and said, almost unable to keep the excitement out of her voice:
“Joe; Walter Graves is on the telephone for you. He wants to know if you'd be interested in helping him with a little job…?
The Author
Brian L. Porter's novel A Study in Red – The Secret Journal of Jack the Ripper was the winner of the Best Thriller Novel of 2008 award in The Preditors & Editors Readers Poll, and the book is currently in development as a Hollywood movie. The sequel to the book, Legacy of the Ripper, was released in 2009.
Brian is a member of The American Authors Association, The Military Writers Society of America and The Whitechapel Society 1888, and lives in the UK with his wife, two step-daughters and 9 rescued dogs.
Dear reader,
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