Biggles Takes a Hand

by W E Johns

  “Doctor Jacobs!” exclaimed Biggles. “Why didn’t you say so? We’ve been sitting here... but I’m sorry. Go on. What does he say?”

  “He writes in German so I will translate as I go,” resumed Anna, and read aloud: “‘My dear friend, this is to tell you that should you or Anna come to London you will not find me at the old address in Hampstead. Some time ago, having no one but myself to think of, and not being in good health, I decided to retire and spend my last days in the peace and quiet of the country. I found such a place near the village of Saxton, in Sussex, from where I now write. I did not write earlier because I had in mind to see Berlin once more before I die, when I would give myself the pleasure of exchanging news with you. But now I read of the troubles in Berlin I think it better that I should remember it as it was in the happy days when we were boys together. Instead, I write this letter. Should you or Anna come to England I would be overjoyed to see you. I have plenty of room. This house is larger than the one I thought to have but I fell in love with the garden and because it is in the country I could buy it cheaply. Give my love to dear Anna. Always affectionately yours, Bruno.’”

  “So now we know,” said Biggles. “Where is this house?”

  Anna read the address. “Saxton Old Hall, near Saxton, Sussex.”

  “Well, that answers two questions for us. At least we know where the Doctor can be found.”

  “And the other?”

  “We have found a home for you.”

  Anna looked surprised. “For me?”

  “Why not? A temporary home, anyway. What better place could you find?”

  “But I couldn’t leave London without knowing where my father—”

  Biggles raised a hand. “Let’s not argue about it now. It’s getting late. We can talk about it in the morning. You settle up at the hotel and pack your case ready for Saxton.”

  Ginger spoke. “All I can say is, it’s a good thing I didn’t leave that letter in Berlin.”

  “What a pity my father just missed it,” said Anna sadly.

  “I’d say it’s just as well,” Biggles told her seriously. “Had he read that letter he would have gone straight to Saxton and arrived with enemies hard on his heels. Then anything could have happened.”

  “Yes. I didn’t think of that,” agreed Anna.

  “That’s enough for today,” concluded Biggles, getting up. “Bertie, you might call a cab and see Anna home.”

  CHAPTER IX

  ANNA DISOBEYS ORDERS

  THE following morning at breakfast Biggles announced that he had decided definitely to take Anna to Saxton, and if Doctor Jacobs would have her leave her there. They could not, he asserted, keep her shut up in the hotel, and to let her wander about the streets without an escort might be dangerous. There was no purpose in it, anyway. He felt sure that when Doctor Jacobs knew what had happened he would take good care of her. The car was outside ready.

  He had just got up from the table when the phone rang. He took the call, and listened for some time, saying little. Once he grimaced at the others as if to prepare them for bad news. At length he hung up.

  “Who on earth was that, at this hour?” asked Algy.

  “Carson, the estate agent who handled the sale of the house for Doctor Jacobs. He said he was wondering if I’d heard what happened at Westwinds last night or early this morning. Naturally, I thought he meant the affair in which you were involved, but it wasn’t that at all. It seems the house was broken into. Mrs. Smith was knocked unconscious. She’s been taken to hospital where a police officer is waiting for her to come round. The police are puzzled because nothing in the house appears to have been touched. That’s the local gossip, anyhow.”

  “Who discovered this?”

  “The milkman. He saw the door had been forced open. He looked inside and saw Mrs. Smith on the floor, in her nightdress. It looks as if she heard a noise, went down to investigate and was knocked on the head. Anna’s father would have no reason to do that. We can guess who did. They didn’t lose much time. What a confounded nuisance. This upsets all my plans for the day, apart from raising an awkward situation.”

  “Why should it?”

  “Use your head. The local police are on the job. We can’t withhold what we know about it. It means I shall have to go round. The problem will be how much to say. They may have found finger-prints. If so I shall have to say I may know who made them. Again, what if Professor Lowenhardt goes back to the house? They’d probably take him to the police station for questioning. I shall have to tell them about him and do my best to explain that the thing is probably a case of mistaken identity. The men who broke into the house were looking for some people they thought were there. I shall have to go to Hampstead. One of you will have to go to the office and let the Chief know what’s cooking; and I’d planned to keep the house in Bishop’s Way watched in case the Professor—”

  Biggles broke off as the phone rang again. “Stiffen the crows! What’s going on this morning,” he muttered irritably, as he picked up the receiver. Again he listened, but this time the call did not last as long. All he said was: “Thanks. Much obliged.” Leaving the instrument he walked to the window and looked down into the street.

  “Now what?” prompted Ginger.

  Biggles lit a cigarette and tossed the match impatiently into the ash-tray. “More cheerful news. We’re being watched. That was Von Stalhein on the phone, speaking from a call-box. He was on his way here to have a word with Anna when he spotted a car parked on the opposite side of the road. A grey Vauxhall. He’s seen it outside the Adlon Restaurant and the Cosmolite Hotel. It belongs to Karkoff. Von Stalhein thought he’d better keep clear, but he tipped me off in case I didn’t know. He’s right. The car’s still there. I’ve just seen it.”

  “But that’s absurd,” protested Algy. “How could Karkoff or his gang know anything about us or that we lived here?”

  Biggles sat down and drew heavily on his cigarette. “We may have underestimated them. I can think of one way they might have tracked us here, although until now the chance would have seemed remote. Last night, Algy, you told us that after the scrap in Bishop’s Way the two men made off.”

  “That’s right. What about it?”

  “I have an idea they didn’t go far. They must have seen your taxi standing there and from the way you jumped out realized you’d been watching the house. You say you didn’t see them again?”

  “I didn’t look for them. I was more concerned with the man they’d attacked, presumably the Professor.”

  “I can understand that. They may have had a car handy. They could have picked up a taxi. If so there was nothing to prevent them from following you here.”

  “Why tail me? Why should they?”

  “Use your head. Look at the whole affair as we have reason to understand it. The Professor must have been shadowed from the moment he left his house in Berlin, apparently in the hope that he would lead the way to where the Roths were hiding—which in fact, as far as he knew, he did. That was all the men following him wanted to know. Why they attacked him I don’t know, but the intention may have been to knock him out and then go into the house to deal with the Roths. Be that as it may, their scheme came unstuck when you barged in. It stands to reason they’d want to know who you were and what your game was. They’d have to know for their own security. The only way they could get that information would be by following you home. I’d wager that’s what happened. Now they’re watching the house to find out more about you.”

  “Don’t forget I went to the hospital.”

  “What difference would that make? Your taxi waited for you. They’d take up the trail again when you came out. These butchers must be expert at this sort of thing. It’s their job, and their lives depend on doing it thoroughly. I’m mighty grateful to Von Stalhein for letting us know about that car outside because I wouldn’t have suspected it, and had I started for Saxton with Anna I’d have played right into their hands. Which shows how careful we’ve got to be.”


  “So what do we do now?”

  “As they’ve only one car they can’t follow us all if we go separate ways. I’d rather Algy wasn’t seen because he might be recognized as the man who butted in last night. Bertie, this is where you take the car and lay a false trail to get that Vauxhall out of the way. I shall then go to Hampstead. Ginger, you’ll get another car from the Yard garage and take Anna to Saxton. I’ve no idea where the place is so look it up on the map. Before you start ring Anna at the hotel to make sure she’s all ready to move off, her bill paid and her case packed. Say you’ll be along for her in about half an hour. That should give you time to fetch a car from the garage.”

  Ginger fetched a pair of binoculars and focused them on the Vauxhall. “Two men in the front seats,” he observed. “I wouldn’t swear to it but they look like Rallensky and Molsk.”

  “That’s what I’d expect,” said Biggles. “The man who tailed you from Berlin may have returned to Germany. Or, of course, he may have joined forces with Karkoff. But never mind that. Ring Anna to tell her to get ready.”

  Ginger was reaching for the phone when the door opened and Anna, carrying her case, walked in. “Good morning,” she greeted with a bright smile.

  Biggles did not return it. Looking as if he had received a mortal wound he let out a sigh that was almost a groan. “We just needed this,” he breathed. With a grim expression he regarded the cheerful face of their visitor. “Didn’t I tell you not on any account to leave the hotel?” he inquired sternly. “Yes... but...”

  “Don’t make excuses. You’re a very naughty girl. You’ve upset all my plans.”

  Anna stared. She had never seen Biggles in this mood. “But I know the way. It’s only a short distance. I thought my coming round would save you the trouble—”

  “Never mind what you thought, Anna. No doubt you acted for the best. You might have been killed, or kidnapped. That may still happen. You must learn to obey orders.”

  “But I didn’t see anyone—”

  “If you look out of the window you will see a grey motor-car. In it are the men who hope to murder your friends, the Roths. They must have seen you arrive so they know where you are. I was going to take you to Saxton where you would be safe with Doctor Jacobs. How am I going to get you there now without being followed? That is one thing. Another is, the house where Doctor Jacobs used to live was broken into early this morning and the unfortunate woman who lives there is in hospital seriously injured.”

  Anna looked as if she was going to burst into tears, but she recovered.

  “I can only say I am very sorry,” she said contritely.

  “I’m sure you are, but that doesn’t mend the mischief. Whatever we do that car will wait until you come out and follow you. I must go to Hampstead in case your father returns to Westwinds. How are we going to get you away from here without being seen? That’s our problem now.”

  “I don’t understand all this following,” said Anna, shaking her head. “Why does anyone follow me? I have done nothing.”

  “Very well. Let me try to make the position clear, starting from the beginning with Herr Roth, who until recently occupied an official post behind the Iron Curtain but apparently was no longer trusted; so he was arrested and shot. Certain papers were missing. His home was searched but they were not found. No doubt the Roth family would have been arrested had they not fled. We may suppose the house was searched again after they had gone. As nothing was found it became necessary to find the Roths who by this time had taken refuge with you and your father in West Berlin. You follow me so far?”

  “Yes.”

  “How the East German secret police knew the Roths were friendly with you I don’t know, but it seems likely that Herr Roth had been watched for some time and his visits to you in the Antonstrasse noted. It might have been known that you were engaged to Moritz. Spies have a way of learning such things. Be that as it may, your house would naturally fall under suspicion of having given shelter to the Roths, so it was watched. You would know where the Roths had gone. That was why you, and later your father, were followed to England. It was hoped you would reveal where the Roths were hiding, and as a matter of fact you would have done that had I not intervened. Your father would have done it, too, had Doctor Jacobs not left Hampstead.”

  Anna nodded. “Yes, I see that.”

  Biggles continued. “In the meantime three men had been sent here from East Germany to silence the Roths, or recover the missing documents—perhaps both. In my opinion these men were not particularly concerned with you or your father in the first instance. It’s the Roths they’re after, and you, by helping them, have become involved. No doubt the enemy agents still believe you know where the Roths are hiding. Your father was followed to Hampstead. Now, having satisfied themselves that the Roths are not at the house in Bishop’s Way they must be wondering why he went there. Unfortunately, it now seems that after the fight there last night Algy was followed back here, with the result that we, too, are now being watched from a car parked outside. You have played into their hands by coming here. They still hope you’ll lead them to the Roths, and unless we can find a way to outwit them they’ll never stop following you until you do. That’s how things stand at this moment. Now do you understand?”

  “I think so. But what about my father?”

  “After last night he’ll realize he was followed and, if he’s wise, go into hiding. It’s unlikely the enemy will find him and we haven’t time to look for him now. The first thing we have to do is get you into the safe keeping of Doctor Jacobs. That will leave us free to look for your father, and the Roths. The immediate problem is how to get you away from here without being seen.”

  Bertie spoke. “What you mean, old boy, is this. If I go off in the car they won’t follow me?”

  “Not now they know Anna is here. They may or may not know who we are or how we come into this, but as Anna has come to England they’ll reckon she’s certain to know where the Roths are. Obviously, she’s the one to shadow.”

  “I could get my own car out and block the Vauxhall from getting away.”

  “That wouldn’t really solve our problem. You couldn’t keep that up indefinitely and they’d still be able to see what went on here.”

  Ginger came into the argument. “We could prevent that. You want a taxi to go to Hampstead. Algy will need one to go to the office and report to the Chief. You and Algy could go round to the garage, hire two cabs and fix it with the drivers to pull in tight against the Vauxhall to block its view. You can’t see over the top of a regulation taxi. Bertie then shoots off in the car. As soon as the Vauxhall can get clear it’ll follow him.”

  “Why should it?”

  “Because seeing that Anna is in neither of the taxis it’ll be supposed she’s in it.”

  “It won’t take ‘em long to discover she isn’t.”

  “Maybe not; but by the time they’ve done that and come back Anna could be away. You could have taken us round to the garage where, if Bertie doesn’t mind, we could borrow his Jaguar and press on to Saxton.”

  “It might work,” assented Biggles. “No harm in trying. We shall have to do something. We’ve lost too much time already. Let’s have a bash at it. I’ll go round with Algy to get the cabs. The rest of you stand by to move fast when we come back. Bertie, have a couple of overcoats ready to stick up in the back seat of the car as if it might be Anna trying to hide. We should be back inside ten minutes. Come on, Algy, let’s get on with it.”

  They went off.

  The others watched the grey car from the window. It did not move.

  “Biggles was right,” said Bertie. “They’re not going to budge until they see Anna come out.” He fetched an overcoat and a travelling rug. With these over his arm they went to the front door from where Ginger watched events through the letter-box.

  They had not long to wait. The two cabs came round the corner in close touch. The drivers had evidently been well briefed, for they played their part with perfect precis
ion, pulling up, almost touching, tight against the Vauxhall, blocking its view.

  “This is it,” snapped Ginger, throwing open the door.

  Bertie dashed out, piled his load in the back seat of the car high against the window, slipped into the driving-seat and was off, accelerating.

  The Vauxhall, risking grazed paintwork, extricated itself and set off in pursuit. In a minute both cars were out of sight. Ginger and Anna crossed the road quickly and got into Biggles’ taxi.

  “Back to the garage,” Biggles told his driver.

  The rest was easy. Ginger and Anna had only to get into Bertie’s Jaguar, and after a last word with Biggles set a course for Saxton, the locality of which he had checked on the A.A. map.

  The weather was fine, and, as a matter of detail, Ginger was looking forward to the drive. After all, a run into the country with a pretty girl did not come his way every day.

  It turned out to be as pleasant as he anticipated. There was not much conversation and this was almost entirely confined to the problems still to be solved—how the Roths were to be found, and, of course, Anna’s father who, naturally, was uppermost in her mind. Ginger kept an eye on the road behind him, but as far as he could make out he was not being followed. Nor, after the manner in which they had got away, did he expect to be.

  After a break at a wayside tavern for a cup of coffee, and another look at the map, an hour later saw them cruising through the tranquil hamlet of Saxton, with its old Norman church tower standing four square to the winds of heaven. A road worker directed them to the Old Hall, half a mile beyond the village, on the left-hand side, standing in its own grounds.

  Ginger went on, confident now that he had nothing to worry about.

  This happy frame of mind did not last long.

  Just before he reached the gate that marked the entrance to the drive that led to the house he had a second look at a car standing half on the verge, facing the village—that is, on its right side of the road. The bonnet was propped open and a man appeared to be doing something to the engine. With his head bent low over it, it was not possible to see his face.