She Was a Pretty Girl: A spy story

by S G Read

  ‘No not yet. I am beginning to think I was lured here under false pretenses.’ John answered lightly.

  ‘Oh we have them alright but as everyone feeds the birds they can go where they like and when they like and get fed.’ Ruth declared.

  ‘Does old Marcy feed them?’ John asked, not trying to sound interested.

  ‘She just throws out her leftovers for them. The girl in the oasthouse puts out all the right things according to the books.’ Ruth answered. ‘Even down to buying niger seed for the smaller birds.’

  ‘I spoke to her earlier when I was walking the dog.’ John answered idly. ‘Seemed nice enough.’

  ‘A little madam if you ask me. Her parents let her get away with murder. She feeds the birds all the right stuff, they even have a stinging nettle patch in their garden to encourage certain types of butterfly. Right next to our field it is and do they come over and dig up any which have crossed onto our land. Oh no.’ Julie declared and the talking stopped as the program restarted. She did not add to her comments until the next adverts. ‘It’s like living next to that couple in the ‘good life.’’ She continued.

  ‘Stinging nettles are a pest, I have them in my garden from time to time, and I don’t have acres and acres for a garden.’ John said agreeing with her. He thought that agreeing with her was the best thing to do.

  ‘Not saying that she isn’t a pleasant enough girl but the parents should put their foot down now and then. She even wanted us to go on a bone marrow register would you believe. I won’t even donate my organs, in case they don’t make sure I am really dead before they take them!’ Julie replied.

  John just smiled. His mind was putting two and two together. The reason he knew that Clementine was in this area was the fact that her daughter had put herself on a bone marrow register. This girl was on the bone marrow register, how much of a coincidence was that? She could be a friend of Clementine’s daughter and had been persuaded to join as well but he had to be careful or he might wake up dead one morning!

  ‘Cat got your tongue?’ Julie asked.

  ‘I was just trying to imagine having bone marrow sucked out of your arm and actually wanting to do it!’ John answered.

  ‘Gives me the shivers.’ Ruth declared.

  ‘So does me biting your ear, if I remember right.’ John retorted.

  Ruth smiled.

  ‘Isn’t it about time you did it again?’ She asked.

  ‘He’s fully charged and ready to go.’ John answered.

  ‘Fully, fully charged?’ Julie asked.

  ‘Oh yes.’ John answered.

  ‘I’ll be up when this film ends.’ Julie replied and returned to watching the television while John and Ruth went upstairs.

  Later that night John lay in bed thinking. If Clementine was in the oasthouse next door his hunt was over and all he had to do was to keep a watch on the place to make sure nothing happened to them. Although Clementine might decide to come calling to find out what he was up to. And it would not be a pleasant meeting.

  He found himself looking out the window, watching the oasthouse. He heard a fox calling for a mate and then the security lights came on round the oasthouse. If something tripped them, all the lights came on round the oasthouse, not just the ones on the side of the intruder.

  He drew the curtains and went to bed, he wanted to be up early in the morning to see how easy it would be to creep up to the oasthouse, if someone wanted to.

  He cooked breakfast and was eating it when Julie returned with the dog. She joined him for breakfast while Ruth was still asleep upstairs.

  ‘That smells good. I wonder why someone hasn’t taken you home before now.’ Julie declared when she smelled the breakfast.

  ‘I was married once but my job got in the way so we separated but not amicably, that is why I have been single since, no ties.’ John answered and slid her breakfast in front of her.

  He fed the dog while she was eating and then went out to bird watch. His plan was to case the oasthouse to see just how hard it was to approach it. He assumed it would be hard if Clementine did live there. He expected the use of spiky plants at key places and was not disappointed. The more he looked, the more he believed that he had found Clementine’s lair. She might even have a high powered rifle sighted on him at this very moment but then he was not approaching her, just watching from a distance.

  ‘You’re not really a twitcher are you?’ Ruth asked from behind him.

  ‘What makes you think that?’ John asked in return, without turning round.

  ‘Because there is a red kite flying above and you are not interested in it.’ She answered.

  ‘If there was a red kite in this area I would be looking at it and recording seeing it for my blog but you are right, It is not my first hobby. You know what that is.’

  ‘Why are you watching the oasthouse?’ Ruth asked a little worriedly.

  John turned to face her and decided the truth was best.

  ‘A friend of mine lives in there and because she let her daughter join the bone marrow register, they can be traced. She has it sewn up pretty tight but her old boss wants her dead and if that happens, her husband will die as well. If the daughter survives, her old boss will take her and teach her what he taught her mother.’ John answered. ‘And I am here to stop that happening, with or without your help.’

  She sat down beside him.

  ‘She said you were nice and good in bed.’ She said quietly.

  ‘So you know her?’ John asked.

  ‘Out here, everyone knows everyone and their business.’ Ruth answered. ‘We are all pitching in to help her out. We know what she used to do and why she got out of it, and how.’

  ‘The triplets were a stroke of genius until one was brought back in a body bag.’ John replied.

  ‘One was killed?’ Ruth said sadly. ‘It must have given the coroner a shock!’

  ‘Marion was a little taken aback when she discovered the extra parts, that was when Winfield enlisted my help to find her and make sure she was still alive. I spoke to the remaining two triplets and told Winfield that Clementine was well and still up to working but I don’t think he really took that as gospel.’

  ‘She says he is a sneaky son of a bitch!’ Ruth declared.

  ‘He is but I did haul him before the PM for his petty cash misdemeanors but he only received a slap on the wrist. He has removed all the bugs from the offices though, which means we can talk to each other now without him knowing all that we say.’

  ‘She is one of my best friends and I don’t want anything to happen to her.’ Ruth declared.

  ‘That makes two of us. Did you entice me back here to keep an eye on me?’

  ‘We did. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’

  ‘Which am I?’ John asked.

  ‘Not sure yet but she was right, you are good in bed.’

  ‘It’s not all for king and country you know.’ John pointed out.

  ‘I should hope not, I still have a few good years in me.’

  ‘This is like that film, the body snatchers, everybody knows what everybody is doing or should be doing.’ John exclaimed.

  ‘And there is no way to get information out us unless we want you to have it.’

  ‘I found her.’

  ‘Pure luck.’

  ‘Winfield won’t rely on luck. The way I would go if I were him would be to kidnap the postie and torture him. I am sure with the modern methods, he will tell all before they kill him!’

  Ruth looked shocked.

  ‘Torture, kill him? This isn’t a boyfriend who won’t say no.’ She argued.

  ‘No it’s a boss who won’t say no and he has enough clout to make all that happen, even though it is outside the law.’

  ‘But I like Bill! I don’t want him tortured and killed!’ Ruth complained.

  ‘It is not up to you or me. I hoped to come without anyone snooping on my movements but I always assume that Winfield knows what I know somehow. If he does, then he will have sta
ked out the post office, waiting for someone to collect the letter he sent to Clementine. Just as my men are there to watch who collects my letter. When no one collects either letter but it is no longer in the post office box, Winfield will assume the postie has a hand in it and will want to talk to him!’ John exclaimed.

  ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Give Bill a holiday and replace him with a new postie.’

  ‘And where do we get a volunteer from?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘I know just the man. I will take a little drive and make a phone call, that way we might save Bill some trouble.’ John answered and stood up.

  ‘You can use our phone.’

  ‘Not a good idea. I do this sort of thing for a living and phoning on a landline is as bad as it gets, unless you drive a long way and break in to use the phone and I have done that before.’

  They both walked back to the manor and John drove away. He bought a pay as you go phone from a large store, making sure the cameras could not film his face. He drove out of the county and then made his phone call from a bridge. As soon as he had telephoned her threw the mobile into the water below and drove back to the manor. It was late by the time he arrived at the manor but both women were still up, waiting to hear how he got on.

  ‘I have a stand in for old Bill. When they try to snatch him they are in for a big surprise.’ John announced.

  ‘Won’t they kill him?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘Not at first, they want to question him and as to the present time they have not worked out a way of questioning a dead man.’ John answered seriously. ‘It is just a question of is he as good as he thinks he is? He thinks he will beat them and we will be able to question Winfield’s men but just in case he will have back up. He will be wearing a locator and that will be attached to his body so that they cannot strip him to lose my men who will be following them.’

  ‘Are you MI5 or MI6?’ Julie asked.

  ‘Neither. I am an agent for SI8, which was invented by some politician after the nine eleven attacks.’ John answered.

  ‘Never heard of them!’ Julie exclaimed.

  ‘And that is just how we like it. Now if next door are friends of yours, then I suggest covert surveillance of the property during the night, starting from tonight. If one keeps watch while the other two entertain themselves, we can swap after a couple of hours and the other one can watch. I will take the third watch, as by then I will need the rest.’

  ‘Cheeky sod.’ Julie retorted. ‘We might not decide to take you to bed, now that our cards are on the table.’

  ‘Then I might just have to draw my weapon that will persuade you.’ John replied.

  ‘Good enough for me.’ Ruth declared. ‘Will you take the first watch mum?’

  ‘Just because I say one thing, it doesn’t mean I have decided to be celibate young lady. You can take the first watch, after you have made love you go out like a light.’ Julie answered.

  Ruth just nodded, she knew it was true.

  ‘I do that but then he is a bit of a stud, even if he is getting on!’

  ‘I might tie a knot in it if you keep that up!’ John warned.

  ‘No dirty thoughts when you’ve done it then.’ Ruth declared.

  ‘Quite.’ John replied.

  That night Ruth watched the oasthouse, using night vision glasses supplied by John. The watch was in vain. No one stirred at all. Hence they were tired in the morning and did not get up until late. John was the last in bed and his peace was suddenly disturbed by both women coming in and making sure that he was wide awake.

  ‘The post hasn’t arrived!’ Julie declared worriedly. ‘When was your man due to take over?’

  ‘I have no idea. He does what he does and decides when he is going to do it.’ John answered. ‘He flipped his laptop open and looked through the spam which the spam filter had consigned to the bin. He opened one and read it. ‘We might be too late. Bill did not show up for work today and my man is trying to locate him. Plan ‘B’ I’m afraid!’

  ‘What’s plan ‘B’ then?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘Watch the house all day and expect visitors.’ John answered.

  ‘What do we do when we see intruders?’ Julie asked.

  ‘I go and do my thing.’ John answered.

  ‘We don’t call the police?’ Julie asked.

  ‘I am the police in this matter Julie.’ John answered.

  ‘Poor Bill, he’s never done anyone any harm.’ Ruth complained.

  ‘What will they do to him?’ Julie asked.

  ‘Torture him or take him back to their safe house and use a truth serum of some type on him. The first way his body is likely to turn up in a ditch somewhere and it will be made to look like a robbery. The second way they will learn all they want and may keep him alive, just in case he managed to lie to them.’

  ‘I’ll hope for that then.’ Ruth declared. ‘You do know where this safe house they use is, don’t you?’

  ‘I do Ruth. I found it by using my powers of deduction and my computer. As soon as it is sorted this end, I will arrange to go in mob handed to see where he is.’ John answered.

  They took turns to watch the oasthouse all day. No one came or left apart from the daughter being taken to school and being brought back again. The man in the house did the driving with no sign of Clementine. John did recognise him as Vladimir Pantinic, or Vlad the Impaler, as they knew him. She had sent word to Winfield that he was dead and Vlad was officially marked as dead; both in England and in Moscow. What would Moscow do if Winfield told them that he was still alive? Would they send a man to correct the error or had too much water flowed under that particular bridge?

  They watched the oasthouse night and day. Stopping for food and other things but someone was always watching. During the day it was either through the window or John was out bird watching and keeping an eye on things surreptitiously.

  The answer was always the same, no one who was not expected went anywhere near the house. John had warned them about assuming someone being about who they knew and not to dismiss them straight away.

  With no news about the missing postie, another postman took over; John’s man. He knew the ins and outs from John and nothing changed in the routine. If Winfield had sent a second letter, he would not see that delivered or collected either. Let him find Clementine the hard way.

  It was two weeks later when Ruth saw someone clearing a way through the brambles and stinging nettles to get to the blind side of the house. She woke John and Julie. John looked through the night vision glasses and took in the situation.

  ‘Time to go to work, but I will need these.’ He waved the night vision glasses. ‘Keep out of sight or you might be removed because you are witnesses.’

  He turned off the automatic flood lights, slipped out the back door and walked round the house to approach the oasthouse where the assassin was clearing a path. He was wearing the night vision glasses to enable him to move quickly and quietly but he had some distance to make up on his quarry.

  He walked in a crouched manner to keep from being spotted by either side and approached the start of the path. The man was already half way through but he was in no hurry. He stopped every now and then to look all around using the same sort of glasses as John was wearing.

  John looked at the cleared ground and knew there was no way that he would catch the man up and not be heard doing it. He came to a decision and drew his pistol from its shoulder holster, slowly and quietly screwing on the silencer. This man was obviously up to no good and the only way John could see to stop him was to shoot him. When the man looked up the next time John fired and the man slumped to the ground in an undignified heap.

  John did not move. He squatted there watching the man to make sure he was dead. He had shot him in the head to make sure of killing him, a Kevlar jacket would stop a body shot and the man could play dead.

  When John returned to the manor he had the dead man over his shoulder. He dumped him in the outside toilet and walked inside, only to be hit with a
frying pan.

  ‘That’s John, Ruth!’ Julie cried and they both rushed to his aid.

  ‘I’m so sorry John, I thought it was the killer.’ Ruth said earnestly.

  ‘No, he’s in the outside toilet but he won’t be any trouble. I will need to find out, who he is and who sent him but I can’t question him as he is dead. He can spend the rest of the night in the toilet and I will sort it in the morning. I have a headache!’

  He looked at Ruth when he said the last bit.

  ‘I said I was sorry, didn’t I?’ Ruth proclaimed.

  ‘That feels so much better now then.’ John declared. ‘Watch the house, I am going back to bed!’

  Early the next morning while one of the girls kept watch on the oasthouse and one looked out to make sure no one saw John loading the dead man into his boot. John drove away and sent an email when he considered he had driven far enough. Each time he drove it was in a different direction but chosen so that should any one draw a graph of his email connections they would not be able to pinpoint where his base was, if they did not already know.

  He waited at the meeting point and transferred the dead man to the van that arrived.

  ‘Hello Albert, how is the holiday going?’ John greeted when Albert slammed the door closed on the dead man.

  ‘Better than Thomas, do you know what time a postman gets up in the morning?’ Albert answered.

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t really want to know, I am up all night watching the oasthouse.’

  ‘You may be up at night but some of the time you are face down when it is up. I know you, remember John.’

  ‘A perk of the job. Were roles reversed, you would be in the house with two nymphomaniac women who are content to share.’

  ‘I’ve never seen the like, you should draw the curtains.’ Albert complained.

  ‘Have you been watching Albert?’ John asked.

  ‘A perk of the job.’ Albert answered and drove away.

  John drove back to the manor and the routine continued. He would get an answer in due time via the spam on his laptop, by using it in the house on occasion he made the manor part of the circle with his base somewhere inside. It was a ploy but easily seen through.