by Ben Elton
‘We’ve already lost. Everybody has already lost.’
‘That’s just rubbish! We may be ruined, we may be crippled but we haven’t lost. There is a difference, you know, but the more people like you and Sassoon go about the place undermining the very bloody easily underminable the closer we all get to packing up and going home and then we will lose. The French very nearly did just that, you know.’
Kingsley did not know.
The extraordinary mutiny of the French Army (which had never recovered from the epic slaughter of Verdun) was not yet common knowledge. News of it had been kept as quiet as possible. There were stories and rumours, of course, but the true extent of the mutiny had been suppressed.
‘Terrible business,’ Shannon went on. ‘Just what we did not need with Russia going to hell in a basket. Did you know that at the end of last May at Chemin des Dames thirty thousand French soldiers mutinied?’
‘I had no idea.’
‘No, and neither have most of our Tommies, thank God, or perhaps they’d get up and do the same. On the first of June at Missy-aux-bois French infantry took over a whole town. They actually established their own anti-war ‘government’. That’s just two months ago. The bloody revolution had actually started in France and the entire line was on the verge of collapse.’
‘But it didn’t.’
‘No, but only because the Germans had no idea of the opportunity they were missing. If they’d pushed then, the whole bloody lot would have caved in. But they didn’t and the rebellion was crushed but, let me tell you, nobody’s expecting another offensive from the French any time soon. That’s why we’re so heavily engaged now. It’s all down to us till the Yanks arrive, and God knows when that will be. But I can assure you that when Pétain realized he had a mutiny to deal with he didn’t send the bloody ringleaders to hospital for shell shock. He court-martialled nearly twenty-five thousand of them, handed out over four hundred death sentences — won’t carry them all out, of course, but the point was made. It’s the only way in war. I have a lot of sympathy for mutineers but I’d shoot them just the same. Particularly Siegfried bloody holier-than-thou Sassoon.’
The food arrived and Shannon seemed instantly to forget the grim themes he had been pondering in order to flirt with the pretty waitress.
‘Sugar, sir?’ she enquired, holding the little silver tongs in her dainty hand.
‘Ah, sweets from the sweet.’
The girl went a little pink.
‘I shall tell General Haig on you,’ the waitress admonished but it was obvious that she was pleased.
‘And what will you tell him?’ Shannon enquired with easy arrogance. ‘That you like to walk out with officers?’
‘No. I shall tell him that I’m a good girl.’
‘That’s no protection from the army, miss. General Haig would do what he always does and order me to advance.’
‘What can you mean, sir?’
‘The British soldier knows no other way. Advance, advance, advance! Storm the enemy’s strongholds and occupy them.’
Now the girl really was blushing, to Shannon’s evident enjoyment. ‘But an efficient advance requires good intelligence. So let me begin to gather some now, pretty miss. What’s your name?’
‘Not telling.’
‘When do you finish work?’
‘I shan’t say.’
‘Come now, my dear, this is a military operation. I order you to tell me.’
‘Well then, I’m Violet if you must know and I get off at half past three but I’m on again at six.’
‘In which case, Violet my dear, I must be prompt. If I were to attend the lobby of this hotel at three thirty-one precisely, might I take you for a stroll by the sea?’
‘Well, you might. Why don’t you attend and then you’ll find out, eh?’
‘Good girl! That’s the spirit! Well said, Vi! Three thirty-one it is. And then, over the top, eh!’
‘You officers! You’re worse than the men.’
‘It’s our duty. We are instructed to lead by example.’
The waitress laughed and scurried off.
‘Three thirty till six,’ Shannon observed. ‘Two and a half hours. A lot can be achieved in two and a half hours. We took twenty thousand dead in not much longer than that on the first day of the Somme. Your brother Robert was one of them, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes, he was.’
‘Well, I’m sure I can turn a good girl bad with a similar window of opportunity.’
‘Captain Shannon, if I wanted to watch a dog on heat I would hang about in an alley.’
‘Well, you know something, Inspector, I know I’m being rude but, you see, I have a rule and I never break it.’
‘Rule?’
‘Shannon’s credo. Any drink. Any meal. Any girl. Any time.’
‘I was under the impression that you are on duty?’
‘There is a higher duty and that duty is to make hay while the sun shines because, you see, Kingsley, the sun will not shine for long. I am bound soon to die.’
‘You’re sure of that then?’
‘Certain to, my number’s been up for a while now, don’t ye know. I was a rowing Blue at Oxford. Race of 1912. Of all the men I sculled with I’m the only one left. Think of that: every one of them popped his clogs, isn’t that extraordinary? Even the poor little cox, who got hit by a sniper on Vimy Ridge — and incidentally that Hun must have been an extraordinary shot because, believe me, our cox was the tiniest, skinniest little bloke you could ever hope to meet. I shan’t be long joining them, that’s for certain, borrowed time and all that. If I hadn’t been seconded to the SIS I’d be dead already, what with the bloody mess that’s going on at Ypres. That’s why I have my rule, you see. Grab it while you can. Get it while it’s good.’
‘Always? ‘
‘Always. Any drink. Any meal. Any girl. Any time. Without fail. Do not falter. Never let one single opportunity to eat, drink, sleep or bed the ladies go by and hang everything else. So when that bullet finally finds its billet, or I’m gassed, or shit myself to death with dysentery or I’m blown to bits or drowned in the mud or just keel over with plain funk I shall know that there never was a single girl I could have had that I didn’t have, nor any drink, nor any grub nor any other comfort either which came my way and which I did not grab. Not a bad rule, eh? Come on, you must admit.’
‘I suppose it does make a lot of sense.’
‘Damn right it does. But look here, I can’t sit here jabbering with you all day. What say we get down to business?’
‘I think it might be for the best.’
‘But first, of course, the rule!’
Shannon attacked his eggs and kidney with vigour. He also had bacon, sausage, mushrooms, black pudding, grilled tomato, a thick pork chop and all the toast including Kingsley’s. He drained the teapot and ordered another with a shot of Scotch to pour into it, and only when not a single scrap of food or drink remained anywhere on the table did he finally light a cigarette and get to the point.
‘So. We mentioned the sad news about Viscount Abercrombie?’
‘That he’s dead.’
‘Yes, he died in France. He was murdered.’
‘He didn’t die in action?’
‘No. That’s what people think happened but in fact he was murdered.’
Kingsley considered this for a moment.
‘Whatever that means,’ he said finally.
‘What do you mean, whatever that means?’
‘I’m not sure I know what murder is any more, particularly in France.’
‘Oh, do please put a sock in it, Inspector. You’re a policeman. You know damn well what murder means, it’s when one man kills another illegally.’
‘In my view Haig has become a murderer, Lloyd George also, the Kaiser is a murderer…
‘Yes, we all know what you think about the war, Inspector. You have made it absolutely bloody clear. You don’t like it. You think it’s utterly insane. Well, here’s some news for y
ou. None of us likes it, we all think it’s insane, particularly those of us who have actually fought in it. But we don’t all feel the need to bang on about it all the time.’
‘You were speaking of Viscount Abercrombie.’
‘Well, as you might imagine, his death has been something of a shock to people. A very great shock. He was one of the last of the real romantic heroes, a hero who still was a bloody hero. A Rupert Brooke, not a Siegfried Sassoon.’
‘Rupert Brooke died of an infected mosquito bite on his lip.’
‘On his way to fight. His poetry inspired people, it did not rub their noses in the horror they had to live with anyway. It lifted them up.
‘If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England.
‘Don’t you think that’s beautiful?’
‘Yes, I do. Beautiful and deeply poignant.’
‘Abercrombie’s poetry was like that.’
‘Abercrombie wrote verse, not poetry. He was no Brooke.’
‘People loved it because it was simple and heartfelt and noble.’
‘What has Viscount Abercrombie’s death to do with me?’ Kingsley enquired.
‘Well, as I told you, he was murdered. Killed, it seems, by a disaffected private soldier. They were both invalided out of the line with shell shock and were under assessment prior to treatment. The soldier shot Abercrombie and was discovered with the gun. He’s under arrest awaiting court martial and I hope they hang, draw and quarter him. To think of a brave fellow like Abercrombie, an inspiration to us all, ending up in some grubby little murder. Do you remember what he said in ‘Only remember me’?’
‘I don’t think I do.’
‘I hope to lead my men across
That bloodied battleground forlorn
And lay my body down for them
And for the place where I was born.’
‘I am pleased to say that I do not know Abercrombie’s work well.’
‘Yet you memorized every bloody word of that foul letter Eliot thought so bloody important. Good God, man, we all know it’s muddy and maggoty and unutterably bloody frightful. The beauty in this war is in the human spirit, its capacity for honour and sacrifice. That’s what Abercrombie was about and some nasty, spiteful little private shot him for it.’
‘Again I ask what has any of this to do with me?’
‘You’re a policeman. We want you to investigate it.’
‘The SIS?’
‘Good lord, no. The top nobs, bigwigs, high-ups. How should I know? Lloyd George himself, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘So this is not to be an SIS investigation?’
‘Why should it be? It’s police business. All we were told to do was to get you out of Wormwood Scrubs with no questions asked and deliver you to London.’
‘London? Then why have you brought me to Folkestone?’
‘We thought you had three cracked ribs. Honestly, that prison doctor, it’s a scandal. We thought you’d be laid up for another week and you’d be safest down here with us.’
‘But why would you need me at all? If they have made an arrest, isn’t it rather too late to begin a police investigation?’
‘Well, you’d have thought so, wouldn’t you? It looks open and shut to me, but that’s what they want so that’s what we’ll do. I’ve telegraphed London that you’ve been passed fit for duty and — ’
‘I do not intend to perform any duties.’
‘I’ve told you, this has nothing to do with the military effort. It’s police work, police work which your government requires of you. We expect you to at least listen to the detail of the task we want you to perform.’
Put like that, it did not seem unreasonable.
‘Very well. I shall listen.’
‘Right. Well, first you’re to return to London.’
‘You’ll tell me nothing more now?’
‘No, I’m just a poor foot-slogger. You’re to be briefed at a much higher level than my poor status allows.’ Shannon handed Kingsley a slip of paper. ‘You’re to report to this address at Whitehall tomorrow morning at nine sharp.’
‘You won’t be with me?’
‘Oh yes, I shall attend, but what about between now and then, eh?’
‘What about it?’
Shannon lit another cigarette and offered one to Kingsley, which he gratefully accepted.
‘Well, here’s the thing,’ Shannon said. He drew deeply and then expelled the spent smoke. ‘I have a proposal to make to you, you know, just between ourselves.’
‘Go on.’
‘It concerns my rule. My credo.’
‘Any drink, any meal, any girl, any time?’
‘Exactly. You see, I’m supposed to stay with you between now and tomorrow morning…’
‘And?’
‘Well, it just seems rather pointless us hanging about together, don’t you think? You don’t like me and I certainly don’t like you. What’s more, I’d thought I’d have a whole week skulking about beside the sea making a beast of myself while you recovered. Now it turns out you’re disgustingly fit and my cushy little nursemaid’s billet has come to an abrupt end when it had scarcely begun. Dashed disappointing. So what I’m saying is, why don’t we just split up and agree to meet in London?’
‘You’d trust me not to abscond?’
‘Well, I really don’t see why you would want to. You have no identity and if you tried to reclaim your old one you’d simply be sent back to prison. You’re penniless and homeless and we are offering you the prospect of gainful employment. I rather think that a logical fellow like you will see that sticking with us, at least until you know fully what we want, is your best bet.’
‘You’d actually let me wander off alone, having gone to all this trouble to secure me?’
Shannon was smoking so ferociously that he was already forced to light another.
‘Think about it for a moment, Inspector. It’s nearly noon. That means I have twenty-one hours before I am expected to deliver you to my superiors. Nearly a whole day in which I’m not dead and not under fire. Have you any idea what that means to a man who’s served two years in the trenches?’
‘But all the same…’
‘When I am returned to the line and shortly thereafter am no doubt lying dead or dying in some muddy Belgian crater I should hate to look back and think that I had twenty-one hours in Blighty and I spent them talking to a shit like you.’
‘Instead you wish to apply your cardinal rule.’
‘It’s three and a half hours until I meet gorgeous little Violet and then she’s back on at six. If I work hard and flash my Military Medal about I reckon I could bed three girls just here in Folkestone before getting blind drunk on the last train to London and having a crack at the ‘dilly in the small hours.’
‘And for that you would forsake your duty as my keeper?’
‘I’ve told you, the walking dead like me have a higher duty. A duty to what’s left of their short lives. Besides, as I’ve also made clear, Inspector, I believe you’ll come to the meeting, and if you don’t I shall simply say that you gave me the slip. Believe me, Kingsley, I care far more, infinitely more, about pleasuring myself than I do about you or the damn-fool mission that my boss has planned for you.’
Kingsley did not like Shannon much but he certainly found him intriguing.
‘You really think you could seduce three women and still get to London tonight?’
‘Inspector, this is wartime and not just any old wartime either. It’s Great War time. Most of the young men are dead and those that aren’t will be dead tomorrow. Rest assured, girls have adjusted their point of view accordingly. And if they won’t come across, I just have to find a way to persuade them, eh? Believe me, if I wish to bed a girl, I do bed her.’
Despite the distaste that he felt for Shannon, Kingsley could not help but be impressed with his self-belief. He himself was a man of enormous confidence but
this young, amoral captain was in an entirely different league.
‘Where will you start?’
‘Perhaps with that lovely Pierrot. Or down on the beach. I might take a stick and effect a slight wound. Girls love all that. Offer them a nip of brandy against’ the wind and hello, Prince Wilhelm, hands, knees and bumps-a-daisy!’
‘Aren’t you worried that I’ll be recognized?’
‘Oh, you’ll make sure you’re not. As I say, if Inspector Kingsley were to come back to life the best you could hope for would be prison…But of course you will understand that that would hardly be an option for us.’
Shannon had placed his cigarette in the ashtray that lay amongst the clutter of his meal and was looking hard into Kingsley’s eyes. Of course Kingsley did understand. He could see that, having faked his death, the SIS could scarcely afford to have him come back to life.
Kingsley stroked his beard. He had never in his life been inclined to grow facial hair, not even in the days of Edward VII when it had been something of a fashion in the police.
‘I shall remain anonymous. At least until I fully understand what is expected of me.
‘Excellent fellow.’
Shannon called for the bill, gave an ostentatiously large tip, courtesy of the taxpayer, and instructed Violet not to forget the promised rendezvous. Then he and Kingsley left the hotel together, and as they prepared to separate on the pavement outside Shannon issued a final warning.
‘Remember, Inspector, that your sudden appearance in the land of the living would put all of us in a fearful mess. If you blow your cover either by design or by mistake I shall kill you, it’s as simple as that.’
‘You already have my word. There is no need for threats.’
‘Yes, but I find they never do any harm. Anyway, we’ll say no more about it, eh? Instead I shall advance you one pound for travel and tonight’s board in London. I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to sign for it.’
Shannon held out a Foreign Office expenses chit, which flapped about in the sea breeze.
‘What shall I sign? The only name I have belongs to a dead man.’