Biggles Follows On

by W E Johns

  ‘One more question,’ said Biggles. ‘Have the next-of-kin of these deserters been questioned, to find out if anything is known of their whereabouts?’

  ‘We sent a military escort to the home of every man concerned, that being the most likely place to find him. In each case the escort returned saying that the man was not there, and nothing had been heard of him.’

  ‘No letters?’

  ‘Not a word. And that’s probably true, because in some cases the mothers of these fellows were very upset.’

  ‘Which confirms that they are not allowed to write letters, or one of them at least would have got in touch with his home.’

  Ross was brought back into the room.

  Biggles took up the conversation. ‘Now I want you to listen to me very carefully, Ross,’ he began. ‘The matter we have been discussing is far more serious than you may have supposed. Because I think you can help us, and those of your comrades, who, believe me, have practically thrown their lives away, I am going to take you fully into my confidence. But before I do that I want your word that, having started, you won’t go back on us.’

  ‘I will—’

  ‘Just a minute. What I am going to ask you to do is dangerous. One slip may cost you your life. The man you have met at the café is one of the most ruthless spies in Europe. He’s a Prussian. And there are even more dangerous men behind him. They would think no more of killing you, if they thought you were working for me, than they would of swatting a fly. Now, what do you say? Are you prepared to work under my instructions? There’s no compulsion about it. You are within your rights to say no, if you’d rather keep out.’

  ‘I’ll do anything you say, sir.’

  ‘Even though the business may cost you your life before we are through with it?’

  ‘If I’d been afraid of dying I wouldn’t have joined the army.’

  ‘That’s the way to talk. Now we’ve got that clear, I’ll go on. What we’ve got to do is this. We’ve got to find out where this fancy regiment is stationed, and bring our fellows back. They’ll be glad enough to come, I’ll warrant. For the moment, we’ll learn all we can, here. I want you to go on seeing this man, behaving as though you can’t make up your mind. In his attempts to win you over he may let one or two things drop. It would be natural for you to want to know just where you are going, and how you’re going to get there. Pretend to be nervous about travelling abroad, to find out if you would go alone or with an escort. See what I mean?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Just go on talking — and listening. That’s all I can tell you. You’ll have to use your intelligence. I’ll give you one tip. Don’t on any account allow yourself to be persuaded to take strong drink. Alcohol loosens a man’s tongue faster than anything — and you might say too much. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘I shall be about. Tell the adjutant when you have anything to report, and he’ll send for me. That’s enough for now. It may be only a beginning. Eventually you may have to accept this man’s offer, in order to reach Macdonald. If so, I shan’t be far away from you. But we’ll talk about that when the time comes. Meanwhile, this spy must suspect nothing. Let’s leave it like that.’ Biggles turned to the Colonel. ‘That’s all, sir.’

  When the soldier had been dismissed Biggles stood up. ‘There’s nothing more we can do for the moment,’ he said. ‘The next move will depend on what Ross has to report. I shall be at Scotland Yard. Give me a ring and I’ll come straight down.’

  ‘You know, I can’t help feeling that this matter is so serious that it ought to be reported to the Higher Authority,’ said the Colonel.

  ‘It’s because it’s so serious that I’ve refrained from doing that myself,’ returned Biggles. ‘You don’t need me to tell you that if one person outside this room learns what is going on, a hundred people will know, and the next thing the story will be in the newspapers. That would relieve me of a lot of trouble because the matter would then pass out of my hands. It would also save the enemy all the trouble I am going to cause him if I can handle the thing my way. Report the business to the War Office if you feel you must, sir, but, with all respect, I submit that if you do you can say goodbye to any chance of getting these spies buttoned up, or of bringing home the fools who thought they were going to a military paradise, but have found themselves in the other place. All I ask is, if you decide to report the matter officially, tip me off in time to do the same.’

  ‘If things go wrong I shall get a rap.’

  ‘So will Ross — on the head. And so, probably, will I.’

  The Colonel hesitated. ‘I’ll do nothing for the moment,’ he decided. ‘We’ll give things a day or two to see how they go.’

  ‘Very well, sir. A final piece of advice. Keep away from the “Stand Easy.” I say that because you may be tempted to have a look at this man who has reduced your ranks. If he sees you staring at him, he’ll guess why. He was trained in the right school, and he’s been at this game all his life. Good day, gentlemen. I’m sorry to give you all this trouble. The only consolation I can offer is, had I not stepped in it might have got worse.’

  Biggles went out, got into his car, put on a pair of dark glasses and pulled the rim of his hat well down. He wasn’t taking any chances of being seen in Caterham by Erich von Stalhein.

  CHAPTER III

  Biggles Makes His Plans

  As he drove back to the Yard, Biggles decided that he had every reason to be satisfied with his visit to Caterham. To have discovered so quickly, and with so little trouble, what von Stalhein was doing in the country exceeded his most optimistic hopes. But, as he perceived, by solving this problem he had set himself some even more difficult ones. Not only difficult ones, but dangerous ones. He was more than a little perturbed by the gravity of what he had learned, and while he felt disinclined to carry the responsibility of dealing with the matter within his own department, he was equally reluctant, for security reasons, to report officially what he knew. Apart from the risk of careless talk, spies, he was well aware, were everywhere, even in the most surprising places. Von Stalhein would need only one whiff of suspicion that his activities were under surveillance, and the difficulties and dangers would be increased tenfold. Quite apart from that, with the world political situation already strained, the mishandling of the affair might do immense mischief.

  Biggles wondered how many men had already been recruited from the Western Powers; for it seemed safe to suppose that if British troops were being taken, there would be others. The title International Brigade suggested troops of several countries. Again, was von Stalhein working alone in Britain, or were other agents at work at other military depots? As for the men who had been crazy enough to go, it was easy to imagine the conditions in which they now found themselves. That they would repent their action was certain. But what could they do about it? Even if a means of escape presented itself, they would hardly dare to take it, knowing that they would be arrested for desertion as soon as they landed in Britain. Once the enemy had them in his power he could force them to do anything. They would go from bad to worse until they were so hopelessly compromised that they would have to stay abroad for the rest of their lives, whether they liked it or not.

  Biggles remembered that there had been more than one case of men of the Occupation Forces in Germany — British, American and French — being seized and carried by force behind the Iron Curtain. Apparently this method of getting recruits was not successful; hence the new trick. Still pondering these matters, Biggles walked into the office to find the others waiting, and looking at him expectantly.

  ‘What’s the news?’ asked Ginger.

  ‘Grim,’ answered Biggles, and, sitting down at his desk, narrated the result of his inquiries. Not until he had finished did anyone speak.

  ‘Sounds as if von Stalhein has turned Communist,’ remarked Algy.

  ‘When he worked for Hitler in the war he was a Nazi,’ reminded Ginger.

  ‘I think he would make no bones a
bout being anything that suited him,’ said Biggles. ‘Primarily he was a soldier, and few soldiers have much time for politics. Von Stalhein is really concerned only with two things — himself and Germany. He is interested to some extent in money, of course, because he has to have money to live in the style to which he has always been accustomed. He has reached the stage when he isn’t particular how he gets it.’

  ‘Are you going to tell the Chief about this?’ asked Ginger.

  ‘I shall have to,’ replied Biggles. ‘If things went wrong I should have no valid excuse for keeping the information to myself. I’m still turning the question over in my mind. I may wait to see what tomorrow brings forth.’

  ‘Are you seriously thinking of letting Ross accept von Stalhein’s offer?’ Algy asked.

  ‘If all else fails, yes. We can’t let the thing go on.’

  ‘If you ever lose sight of Ross he’ll have had it,’ averred Algy. ‘If the men who have already gone haven’t been able to get in touch with home, he won’t be able to. Once he is given a civilian hat, and a ticket to leave the country, von Stalhein won’t take his eyes off him until he’s on his way. What I mean is, he wouldn’t be able to take any escape equipment with him. He wouldn’t have an earthly chance of getting in touch with you, or anyone else. Von Stalhein would see to that.’

  ‘We’ll deal with such problems when they arise,’ answered Biggles. ‘We haven’t come to them yet.’

  The question was still being discussed at six o’clock when Inspector Gaskin came in.

  ‘Any more news?’ asked Biggles quickly.

  ‘Nothing to speak of,’ replied the detective, knocking out his pipe and putting it in his pocket. ‘I went to the Grosvenor today while our friend was out and had a look over his suite. He went to Caterham again. I had a man trailing him.’

  ‘Did you find anything?’

  ‘Just a couple of things that puzzled me. Here’s one of them.’ The inspector opened his notebook and took out a loose page. ‘There was a slip of paper in a drawer. It had some letters on it; looks like some sort of code. I made a copy. Take a look. Do these letters mean anything to you?’

  A curious expression came over Biggles’ face as he looked at the slip. ‘They certainly do mean something to me,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘In fact, they mean quite a lot. These are the registration letters of all our aircraft.’

  The Inspector whistled softly. ‘Does that mean he knows you’re on the job?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ answered Biggles slowly. ‘I don’t see how he could know. But he knows where my machines are kept. There’s no secret about that. I should say he’s made a note of our registration marks either for his own information, or to pass on to his friends in Europe, in case any of our machines were seen. He’s very thorough, is von Stalhein.’

  ‘The only other thing that seemed a bit odd was a box of ties — neckties,’ went on the Inspector.

  ‘What’s queer about that? Most men wear a tie.’

  ‘True. But most men buy one tie at a time, and unless it’s a club or regimental tie, it’s usually a different design from those they already have. I found a box with eleven ties in it. They were brand new, and all alike.’

  Ginger interposed. ‘Did these ties happen to be black with red spots?’

  The Inspector looked surprised ‘They did.’

  Biggles cocked an eye at Ginger. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Because when I saw him, von Stalhein was wearing one — possibly the one that would make up a dozen in the box. I noticed it particularly because I’ve never seen von Stalhein wear anything but a plain black tie.’

  ‘We shall have to think about that,’ said Biggles. ‘Tell me, Inspector; what did our friend do at Caterham?’

  ‘Same as before. He spoke to some soldiers and had a long talk with Ross.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘His movements were the same as the last time we watched him.’ The detective got up. ‘That’s the lot. I’ve still got a man on the job. I’ll let you know any developments.’ He went out.

  Biggles sat staring at the others. ‘Ginger, you might take a walk round the West End shops in the morning and see if you can find any black ties with red spots. If you do, buy one or two.’

  Ginger’s eyebrows went up. ‘What for?’

  ‘Just an idea,’ murmured Biggles.

  ‘I’ve got an idea, too,’ put in Algy. ‘Before a man can get out of this country and into another he needs a passport. All these recruits of von Stalhein must have had one. Ross would need one if he went. How does von Stalhein get British passports?’

  ‘There wouldn’t be much difficulty about that,’ returned Biggles, ‘These fellows could all travel on the same passport, if it comes to that. When it had served its purpose it could be sent back and used again. The photograph and the entries could be erased and fresh ones substituted. There are plenty of spare British passports in Eastern Europe, anyway. In the Spanish Civil War, all the British contingent of the International Brigade had their passports taken from them. They didn’t get them back. We know where they went.’

  The telephone rang. Biggles picked up the receiver. ‘Good. I’ll be with you in half an hour,’ he said, and hung up. ‘That was the adjutant at Caterham,’ he told the others. ‘He’s got Ross with him. Stick around till I get back.’

  He was away for the best part of two hours.

  ‘Now what?’ inquired Ginger when he returned.

  ‘We’ve made a little progress — not much,’ answered Biggles, dropping into his chair. ‘Ross had a long talk with von Stalhein today — we already knew that. I’ve just had a word with Ross. Under the pretence of being inclined to accept the offer, he’s picked up a detail or two. When he is ready to go he is given a suit of civilian clothes, money, passport and an air ticket from London to a European airport. There he will be met by a man who will tell him what to do next. Saturday was suggested as the best time to go, because on that day Ross can get a weekend pass. That gives him plenty of time to get clear. Ross says he tried hard to get more information, but there was nothing doing. Which means that we shan’t get any further along that particular line of inquiry.’

  ‘Did you fix up with Ross to accept?’ asked Algy.

  ‘Not yet. He said he was willing to go. I told him to do nothing more until he hears from me again.’

  ‘What’s the next move?’

  ‘I’ve decided to tell Raymond about it. This thing is too big for us to carry on our own hook. The Air Commodore will probably have gone home, in which case I’ll go to his house. There’s no need for you to stay. I shall probably be late. You needn’t wait up for me unless you want to. I’ll get along.’

  The Air Commodore was not in his office. Biggles went to his home, and caught him just as he was leaving for the club, where he usually dined.

  Aware that Biggles would not trouble him at such a late hour unless he had urgent news to impart, he asked him to join him. Biggles accepted, and over the meal, in a quiet corner of the dining-room, revealed the plot he had uncovered.

  The Air Commodore’s expression hardened as he listened to the story, but he said nothing until Biggles had finished. Even then it was a little while before he spoke. ‘This is a pretty state of affairs,’ he said bitterly. ‘There was a time when our enemies were content to steal our secrets. Now they entice away our troops. What do you suggest doing about it?’

  ‘I feel inclined to let Ross go, and follow him,’ said Biggles. ‘I can’t see any other course. For their sakes, as well as our own, we can’t just abandon these fellows who have already taken the bait. Anyhow, we must find out where they are.’

  ‘If Ross goes, he’ll take his life in his hands.’

  ‘So shall we all. Ross knows the danger.’

  ‘Don’t, for goodness sake, do anything to start a war.’

  Biggles frowned. ‘Surely that’s what the other side is doing now? They can’t expect us to sit back and do nothing about it. I doubt if any cou
ntry implicated would kick up a fuss if we were caught in their territory, because if the thing became public it would mean exposing their own hand as well as ours.’

  ‘How can you follow Ross without being seen yourself? Von Stalhein will not lose sight of him, you may be sure, until he’s actually on his way.’

  ‘That will have to be arranged. I think it could be managed.’

  ‘You mean, as he will go by air, you’d follow in one of your machines?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What if it comes to night flying? You’d lose your man in the dark. Or, for that matter, suppose Ross, when he’s abroad, is switched suddenly to surface travel — a private car, for instance?’

  ‘That’ll be my worry,’ said Biggles shortly. ‘I can think of a score of unpleasant possibilities; but, as I said just now, what’s the alternative?’

  ‘We could pick up von Stalhein and so put an end to the business.’

  ‘You might pick up von Stalhein, but how could you be sure that would end the business? The chances are that he would simply be replaced by someone else. It’s better to deal with a devil we know than one we don’t know. Besides, to grab von Stalhein would tell the enemy we know what’s going on. That would definitely mean saying goodbye to these silly fools who have already been hooked.’

  Still the Air Commodore hesitated. He looked worried. ‘I don’t like it, Bigglesworth. It sounds too much like attempting the impossible. You might get behind the Iron Curtain by dropping in from an aircraft; but I can’t see you getting out again. Without knowing the country you couldn’t arrange for a machine to pick you up. You couldn’t even get a message home to say where you were. Once in, you would probably disappear as completely as a stone dropped in the middle of the Atlantic. Every hand would be against you. Think of the language difficulties. You wouldn’t be able to move about, get food—’

  ‘Just a minute, sir,’ broke in Biggles. ‘I’ve taken all these things into account. I won’t deny it’s risky; but someone has to take risks. The biggest difficulty of all will be keeping Ross in sight. If I lose him, he’s had it. He’d never get out on his own – unless I could get in touch with him again.’