by V M Knox
‘Here it is; Friday 13th June.’ She looked up at them. ‘Mr Churchill is to hand out bravery awards to the fire wardens of Southampton.’
‘Tomorrow. Where precisely, Nora,’ Johnny asked.
‘Winchester.’
Chapter 28
Clement sat in the car. His Welrod was in a holster around his chest and his Fairbairn-Sykes knife in its scabbard attached to his left leg. Beside him was Johnny Winthorpe. No one sat in the front with the Secret Service driver.
Clement stared through the window as the car drove west through the streets of London. In the mild early-evening light, Clement hardly saw the rubble that lay over footpaths and the row after row of boarded-up buildings. Clement cast his mind back to Christ Church Mayfair where he’d been on the first night of the Blitz last September. He’d gone to London to see Gubbins and he’d joined the covert Auxiliary Units. It was the beginning of his clandestine life. While it was less than a year ago, it seemed like a lifetime. So much had happened. He reached, almost unconsciously, to the wound over his left eye. He couldn’t remember exactly when he’d received it. Everything was connected yet seemed jumbled. At least the boy was safe in Kendall’s custody.
‘Eye giving you trouble, Clement?’ Johnny said quietly to him. ‘You really should get those stitches out. Perhaps you should find a doctor in Winchester.’
‘I’m alright, Johnny. Thank you for asking…’ Clement paused. ‘Johnny, there is something I need to do after this is all over. That is, if I’m still alive.’
‘Name it?’
‘Reg Naylor. I need to see he is taken back to Fearnley Maughton and buried at All Saints there.’
Johnny nodded. ‘Gubbins will write to the widow.’
The car left the outskirts of London heading west. ‘How far is Winchester?’ Clement asked.
‘About eighty miles. It shouldn’t take us too long, even with the roadblocks.’
‘Where exactly are we going?’ Clement asked.
‘I have arranged for us to billet at an almshouse known as the Hospital of St Cross just south of Winchester. We’ll formulate our plans there.’
‘Who else knows?’
‘Not many. Because we cannot be certain that this will be the event where they attempt the assassination, it’s only a small force; myself, you, and C will be there tomorrow, along with two special duties officers. I have four snipers joining us who will be placed at various points where the Prime Minister will be seen.’
‘Does the Prime Minister know he’s the bait?’
‘Yes. He’s quite excited by it, in fact. He actually said that there is nothing more exhilarating than being shot at without result. Let’s just hope he’s right.’
Clement laughed. ‘He’s certainly courageous.’
‘He’s not unprotected, despite his bravado. In addition to ourselves, there will be Inspector Thompson, Churchill’s personal bodyguard who never leaves his side. It is risky, though. There are just so many places where an assassin could hide.’
‘What’s the plan then for tomorrow?’
‘Mr Churchill will arrive in Winchester at half past ten. He is to attend a service of Morning Prayer in the Cathedral at eleven. Then there is a reception in the Great Hall where firemen from Southampton will be presented with bravery awards. He is due to leave Winchester around two o’clock.’ Johnny shook his head. ‘He wishes to walk from the Cathedral to the Great Hall. We have advised against this, but he’s insistent. The snipers will be placed along the route but it’s still very dangerous. An assassin could take a pot-shot at him from anywhere. Or approach him in the crowd. Why, even one of the firefighters, who would be very close to him, could be his assailant. The recipients of the awards have all been vetted, of course, but we must expect the unexpected. Actually, I’ll be pleased to see him leave Winchester.’
‘It may not be tomorrow.’
‘Exactly. So until they make their move, it’s a game of watch and be prepared for anything. It’s all we can do.’
The car turned south-west, skirting Windsor and making for Reading before turning south to Winchester. Clement gazed through the window. He’d missed the countryside, although for Clement nothing would compare to the rolling green fields of the South Downs and the white chalk land of East Sussex.
‘Was Hasluck really in Portugal for tungsten?’
‘Yes. It’s very important to the war effort. Lisbon is an interesting city, Clement. Of course, we have a long relationship with the Portuguese. Currently it’s its proximity to Spain that makes it a hotbed for spies. Many in the Spanish government are pro-Nazi and Portugal being neutral makes it a safe place for many to do business there for all sorts of reasons.’
‘So Hasluck is a spy?’
‘No. Not really. He is there for the tungsten contracts but he does some work for us from time to time. While there, he mixes in interesting circles, so who better to keep an eye on things for us.’
Clement pursed his lips. He thought on what a father would do for a son. Would it include consorting with the enemy? Almost certainly. So why was Michael left at Hitcham Hall and not taken with the others in the lorry? It plagued Clement. The boy was to be traded, of that Clement had been certain. Had he been kept back solely as a trade to make Clement choose between the boy and Morris? Clement sat up. He stared through the window at nothing in particular, his mind desperately grasping his thoughts as they rushed around his brain forming disconnected threads. Armstrong couldn’t have known he and Reg were in the house until after he had seen Morris in the police car on the drive. Therefore, Armstrong intended to trade Michael with someone else. ‘I know I’m thinking aloud, Johnny, but bear with me. Armstrong came back to get the boy from Hitcham Hall because his father…’ Clement leaned forward in the seat. ‘Turn the car around, Johnny. We must get back to Cambridge as quickly as possible.’
‘What?’
Clement paused, his mind on fire. Johnny was staring at him. ‘Sir Cedric was in the lorry with me. Of that I’m sure. But he hasn’t been all this time at Hitcham Hall.’ Clement ran his hand through his hair then turned to face his old friend. ‘Sir Cedric brought the grey-haired man into England. He’s doing another flight. He’s bringing someone else into the country, tonight! Most likely this Teddy person. The boy was to be handed over to Hasluck on Hasluck’s return from Portugal and on the safe delivery of this Teddy. But we have the lad. They’ll kill Hasluck once he’s of no further use to them. And they’ll meet at Hasluck’s home, Wilstock House, which is where the trade is supposed to have happened. Michael told me it’s near Lode. That’s near Cambridge, isn’t it?’
Johnny leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. ‘How long to get to Cambridgeshire?’
‘Top speed, sir, and with roadblocks, about four hours.’
Johnny slid back on the seat. ‘If you’re wrong, Clement, if we miss the ceremony tomorrow and Churchill is killed, it will be more than a court martial for both of us.’
‘Can we get a message to Sergeant Kendall at Cambridge Police Station? He could meet us there with a force of men.’
‘Stop in the next village, driver, at the first telephone box you see.’
Less than thirty minutes later the car pulled up beside a phone box near the village of Datchet and Johnny jumped out. Clement waited in the car. He saw Johnny make two calls. Minutes later, Johnny opened the car door and got back in.
‘Nora tells me that there is an airfield at Bottisham about five miles east of Cambridge. It’s a Royal Airforce base as well as a training airfield, so if Hasluck uses it, he and many others would be coming and going all the time and no one would think it odd. I also spoke with Cambridge Police. The constable there said he’d get a message to Sergeant Kendall. They’ll arrange to have a team watching the airfield around the clock for any non-military aeroplanes arriving this evening. But we should consider that Hasluck may have already landed. The airfield staff there will know. Sergeant Kendall will meet us in Stow Cum Quy, a village just o
n the Cambridge side of the boy’s home. Apparently Wilstock House is a large property, a former abbey on the road between Cambridge and Lode just passed Stow Cum Quy.’
‘He’s there, Johnny. Sir Cedric will fly this person into England, and Armstrong will be there to greet him.’
Chapter 29
Twilight was nearly gone when the car pulled off the road and Clement woke. He’d slept nearly the entire journey back to Cambridgeshire. ‘Where are we?’
‘We’re in the village of Stow Cum Quy, quite close to Wilstock House.’
‘Has Kendall arrived yet?’
‘Due momentarily.’
They waited. Within minutes, a low glow of shielded headlights appeared.
‘This should be him now,’ Johnny said as the vehicle slowly came towards them then stopped.
Clement and Johnny got out, quietly closing the car doors. Standing by the road Clement shook hands with Sergeant Kendall.
‘Someone wanted to be here,’ Kendall said, indicating the police vehicle’s rear seat. Clement looked in. Morris sat there, his arm propped on pillows.
‘I had to come,’ Morris said. ‘Clement, Sir Cedric’s plane arrived this evening around five.’
Clement turned to Kendall. ‘Is the boy safe, Sergeant?’
‘Right as rain! My boy and young Michael get on like brothers,’ Kendall replied.
‘Could you station your men around the perimeter fence. They should apprehend anyone leaving the grounds of Wilstock House but on no account are they to go into the grounds. And Kendall, warn them, these people are dangerous and may be armed.’
‘I understand,’ Kendall said and went to speak to the constables gathering by the roadside.
‘Do you know anything about Wilstock House, Superintendent?’ Johnny asked.
‘I’ve been there twice,’ Morris said. ‘Once recently to enquire about the boy but I didn’t go inside. The other time was about six months ago to investigate a burglary. It’s a large house. Not one of the great houses but still big. Made of stone and it has a very long drive. It isn’t completely straight so you cannot see the house on approach.’
‘Good,’ Johnny said. ‘And the gardens at the front?’
‘Lots of large trees with some open grassed areas. There is another gate along the drive that leads into a wide gravelled area in front of the house. The front door is to the left side, as I recall.’
‘This burglary; connected to this, do you think, Superintendent?’ Johnny asked.
Morris frowned. ‘Can’t be completely certain but I shouldn’t have thought so. Someone had smashed the glass in one of the dining room windows. Nothing of any consequence was taken and they were quickly apprehended.’
‘Do you remember anything of the layout of the house?’ Clement asked.
‘Once through the front door, the hall turns to the right and continues along to a wide stone spiral staircase at the end. I have never been up the stairs, but downstairs leads to the kitchens and rear of the house. The break-in happened in a dining hall on the lower level. The rooms on the ground floor are the formal rooms plus a sitting room and a room used by Sir Cedric as his study. I spoke to him there after the incident.’
‘Any other rear access into the house? Side doors?’ Clement asked.
‘Unknown, I’m sorry, Clement. There is a formal garden to the side of the house and the window in the study overlooks this area, as would the sitting room. I know nothing about the other rooms on this level.’
Kendall rejoined them. ‘One of the lads tells me there’s a second gate further along the road. I’ve sent them to watch it. If anyone comes out there, they’ll be stopped.’
‘So we approach from the front as there’s no time for scouting the area first,’ Clement said. ‘Kendall should drive in and knock at the door. Johnny, you and I will secrete ourselves either side of the front door. As soon as it’s opened, we enter and take whoever opens the door as hostage to lead us to Hasluck. Do you have any weapons on you, Johnny?’ Clement asked.
‘Same as you.’
‘Do you want any of my men secreted in the grounds, Clement?’ Morris said.
‘I’d rather not, thank you, Arthur. They don’t carry weapons, besides which, if your men are seen, it would alert anyone in the house to our presence.’
Returning to the cars, they slowly drove the half mile to the front perimeter fence of Wilstock House. Clement could see the large ornate gates about a hundred yards in front. They parked, leaving the Service driver with the car. Kendal pulled up beside them in the police vehicle and Clement and Johnny got in.
Ahead, the gate was open. No one spoke. Kendall turned into the drive. The car crawled past expansive lawns and well-established trees. In the light of the near-full moon, what should have been a verdant and tranquil scene looked grey and foreboding. They passed the second gate. It too was open. Kendall slowed as he drove through a thicket of overhanging trees and low shrubs.
‘Keep driving, Kendall, slowly. Don’t stop in case we are being observed. Major Wisdom and I will leave you here. Ready, Clement?’ Johnny said, his hand on the car door handle.
Clement opened the car door on his side of the vehicle at the same time and they fell out of the vehicle, rolling over the gravel and scrambling into the shrubs at the side of the drive as Kendall drove slowly on. Looking up, Clement saw Johnny on the other side of the drive. Seconds later Johnny joined him. Crouching under the foliage, Clement reached for his binoculars. Ahead, Clement could see a large stone mansion; the front entry, just as Morris had described, was to the left. Clement scanned the area, checking windows and a path that led down the right side of the house. All was quiet and still. That there were no guards worried Clement. If Hasluck was there with someone important, surely Armstrong would have posted his henchmen in the grounds? Clement saw the police vehicle stop, then the headlights were switched off. They had ten seconds.
They ran forward, the sound of the police vehicle’s engine still idling covering the noise of their footsteps on the gravel.
Clement leaned into the stone wall beside the front door as Morris slowly got out of the police vehicle. He carried a walking stick and moved slowly towards the front door, mounting the steps with notable difficulty.
Clement reached down and withdrew his knife.
The door opened and a man appeared.
Clement and Johnny rushed forward as Morris stood back. Clement held his knife at the man’s throat.
‘Who are you?’ Clement whispered.
‘The butler, sir,’ the man whispered back. ‘There’s no one here, sir. Sir Cedric and his family are not here.’
Clement moved the blade. ‘Anyone else in the house?’
‘No one,’ the man said.
‘We’ll just check for ourselves,’ Johnny said. He nodded to Kendall who had joined them in the house. Kendall and Johnny ran down the corridor. ‘I’ll go up, Kendall, you down. Back here in five.’
Morris backed away, returning to the car as Clement continued to hold the man at knife point. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Cosgrove, sir.’
‘Cosgrove. You may not believe this, but we are with His Majesty’s Secret Service. Where is Sir Cedric?’
‘He left this afternoon, sir.’
‘Who was with him?’
‘I cannot say.’
‘Cannot or will not?’
Clement maintained his grip on the frightened man. ‘You’re hiding a man who’s committing treason to save the life of his son. His actions, though understandable, are misguided. His son, young Michael, is in my care now not theirs. So there’s no need for either you or Sir Cedric to remain complicit or to protect these people. Now I repeat, where is Sir Cedric?’
‘How do I know you have young Master Michael?’
‘I can describe him. I know his liking for expensive cigarettes has landed him in much trouble. I know he was removed from this house by his uncle then taken into Caius College in Cambridge where he was handed over to
a man called Hugh Armstrong, a neighbour from Horningsea. I also know Michael attends the Abbey School in Ramsey. And, I know there is a button missing from his purple school jacket on the right-hand cuff. I know he has a ready wit to match his quick tongue. He is also a frightened but brave young lad who has seen enough evil for one lifetime. And he won’t have to see any more because he’s now safe and well away from these traitors. I also know that a grey-haired man was brought here last night. You may not even have been permitted to see him but you will have taken him food and pressed his clothes. You may even have had to purchase him new evening clothes.’
Cosgrove’s eyes widened. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Because we’ve been watching him for some time and we have Mr Hugh Armstrong’s Lagonda in safe keeping.’
‘I never saw his face. I saw him get out of the car with Mr Armstrong so I know he was here.’
Clement slackened his grip on the man and lowered his knife slightly. ‘And Hugh Armstrong? Was he here as well?’
Cosgrove nodded. ‘Yes. I swear to you, I never saw their faces.’
‘Their faces! Did Sir Cedric have other guests?’
‘Yes. Nine others. Two arrived late yesterday, a priest, Father Rathbourne and another man. There were two young valets with them.’
‘Was Sir Cedric here at the time?’
‘No. I received a telephone call from him telling me to expect Mr Armstrong and some guests. I was to provide them with whatever they needed and not to ask questions.’
‘When did Mr Armstrong arrive?’
‘Yesterday, sir, along with the next guest to arrive, the grey-haired man. Mr Armstrong had been injured and was wearing a sling. It was for the older man, this grey-haired man that I was asked to purchase evening clothes. Not an easy task at present.’
‘Was there to be a celebration of some kind?’
‘Apparently.’
‘Is it being held here?’
‘Not that I’m aware of, sir. Sir Cedric wasn’t in any mood to celebrate.’