by Ronald Cove
*
Before doing anything else, Dave and I quickly popped into Scotland Yard and low and behold there was the dear old ‘super’ waiting patiently to see us. He’d apparently received a report telling him that a railway porter had rung the Hornchurch police station, informing them that a suspicious character, that he the porter had last seen masquerading as an RAF corporal, had that night been accused of being seen leaving a house in Stanley Road Hornchurch, where a Mr: D. Ross had recently been found slain. It was a young London boy, aged about ten or eleven who was the accuser. As it happened, the boy in question did in fact live with his Mother opposite the house where Mr: Ross’s body was found. ‘Right’ the ‘super’ had said, ‘I want you to pull your bloody socks up and get down to Hornchurch bloody quick, now is that clear Inspector Selby’. Dave replied with a crisp ‘Yes Sir’ and within minutes we’d wheedled out DC Willis and were on our way.
We hopped a district line train straight through to Hornchurch. Once on the train, I pointed out to Dave and Tony, that it must have been that little cockney kid from Stanley Road, who’s making these accusations. “Yeah, that makes sense,” Tony remarked. “Well, makes no bleedin’ difference who done the bleedin’ accusing, it means if we’re bloody quick enough, we’ll be able to nobble our man that much sooner” Selby stated. “Yeah, well I wouldn’t count yer chickens before they’re ‘atched me ol’ mate” I warned him. “Never mind all that rubbish, if we do spot the bugger, we’ll all tackle ‘im this time,” Selby told us. “Right,” I said with a chuckle.
Once clear of train and platform Dave wandered off looking for our friendly ticket collector, whom he’d seen once before concerning this bloody elusive RAF corporal, and would yer believe, there his man stood collecting bleedin’ train tickets. DC Willis glanced at me with raised eyebrows. “Now who’d ‘ave believed that” I whispered to Willis. After they’d finished chatting, Dave sauntered over to Willis and myself with a big beaming smile across his face. “Yep, it’s as yer reckoned Bill, that kid from Stanley Road spotted the bugger coming out that place they call a cinema round ‘ere last night. That porter” Dave indicated with his thumb, then added “I’ve just been chatting to, says ‘he found and spoke later with the kid’, that’s ‘ow they know where your boy came from” Dave concluded. “I see, now it all makes sense” I knowingly acknowledged.
*
After scaling the school fence Martin crouched low, carefully surveyed his surrounding area, took the two primed grenades from his pocket. Moving quite slowly, advanced on a stationary spitfire, and from where he was then situated, he could clearly make out the shape of an aircraft hanger, which he knew would have at least two or three spitfires tucked away inside. Martin therefore decided to bide his time, he could now hear anti-aircraft guns in the distance, they were getting louder by the minute, then all of a sudden he heard the offbeat drone of German bombers above. He knew at once this was the moment to act. Martin crouched low, darted forward into the shadows, he then found himself standing outside a hanger door, which he found amazingly easy to slide silently open. Martin took two grenades, tossed them one each side into said hanger, then tightly closed the door and quickly slipped back to the loan spitfire he’d originally started from. Here again, he found it quite easy opening the fuel cap of this aircraft, he thereupon used his handkerchief as a taper, made sure one end was securely installed into the fuel tank itself, with a few inches showing outside, he lit this dry portion with a match, then as two explosions erupted inside the hanger, he made a mad dash from this disaster scene he’d just created. Now also leaving a lone spitfire in flames, and nigh on close to exploding.
Once back at Hornchurch station Martin made a point of slipping through the barrier without being seen by any ticket collector, who’d been brave enough to stay on duty in this present air raid. Aboard the train, which was slowly moving due to the air raid, it was May & Baker that was uppermost in his mind yet again.
33:
A CHANGE OF LUCK
Once again our trip down to Hornchurch proved unsuccessful. Oh yes, we heard all about how some devious bugger had deliberately set fire to a lone spitfire, and then gone on to destroy an aircraft hanger with three spitfires, which were undergoing repairs, inside. Even so the Hornchurch police knew this was an act of sabotage, because although there’d been an air-raid in progress best part of the night, jerry had simply not dropped any bombs at all on, or even near Hornchurch aerodrome that night. Apparently it would appear all the damage sustained that night was in fact the work of a lone intruder, who’d obviously gained entry by way of the school fence. He then threw an explosive device inside a hanger. It is then believed he set fire to a loan spitfire before leaving the same way he’d come.
DI Selby along with DC Willis, made an appearance at Hornchurch airfield that morning, while I’d been designated the simple task of acting out my ‘Sherlock Holmes’ routine. All I had to do was ask questions around Hornchurch Station and take some bloody statements, is how Selby put it. However they returned empty-handed, and the only joy I obtained was when some little old feller told me ‘a bloke of about six foot, nigh on shoved him off a bloody 66 bus, then rushed off without saying a bloody word’ so like any good police sergeant would, I took this little old boys statement, in which he clearly stated ‘when this bloke jumped off the bus, he straight away headed towards the school and airfield’ so that was it. When Dave and Tony rejoined me, we pooled all our information together and come up with bugger all.
Anyway, back at Hornchurch police station, we were further informed that not only did this bugger re-arrange the bloody airfield somewhat, he’d also rushed over to Dagenham’s May & Baker where he’d unloaded a couple more explosive devices for their approval. Now all in all it wasn’t hard to see this bleeder was now taking the bloody piss out of us silly sods. Still, our trip hadn’t been a complete waste of time. After we’d all had the usual bollocking from the local chief constable, Dave told me to nip round and get a statement from my little adopted cockney boy in Stanley Road. Alas, all I got was a neighbour telling me his mother had taken him to Southend for the day, which left me no other option than return to Dave and explain we were out of luck there. Dave groaned for a while, then decided we would spend that night there in Hornchurch and go back to London by car next morning.
*
Martin deposited two of his grenades just inside May & Baker’s gate right alongside the building itself, which created a nice bright fire that he hoped would last the night through and guide many Luftwaffe pilots in and around the Dagenham Dock area. Martin accordingly decided he must for the time being stay here in Dagenham or near about. He could then perhaps use his last two grenades the following night. He therefore went in search of and quickly found a local pub that offered Bed and Breakfast. The place he’d chosen for this purpose was called ‘The Merry Fiddlers’ and there it came to pass, while having a pint at the bar, a feller border happily informed him of a house in Nicholas Road Dagenham, where he, Martin, would no doubt be welcome to rent a room from a lady named Lily, at any time. His companion also mentioned that Lily had recently lost her husband at Dunkirk, and was only too happy to take in lodgers to make ends meet. Then more as an afterthought, his drinking partner mentioned she also had a strong hatred of politicians.
Martin thanked his fellow border, lit a fresh cigarette, bought another pint for them both, then indicated two chairs at a small table where they took refuge and discussed the art of playing that then common pub game ‘darts’. They were still having a heated discussion on this subject when an air-raid warning sounded later that night. It was then they parted company. Martin went straight to his room, while his companion preferred the safety of an air-raid shelter. They therefore went in opposite directions.
*
We spent exactly two hours in a bloody air-raid shelter that night. Nevertheless, come morning, after a shave and brush up, followed by a two kipper breakfast, Dave and I were ready to meet the world. We walked down
to see if we could ruin DC Willis’s love life, as we did so, on approaching his little love nest, we noticed for some reason he’d parked our bloody car a good distance down the road, away from his lodgings. “Wonder why the bloody idiot left it back down there?” Selby asked. “I don’t know, perhaps he enjoys a walk” I speculated. “Enjoys a bloody walk be buggered, the ‘orny sod most probably got another bird living down there somewhere” Selby growled as we wandered along the road. “Yer know, yer could be right at that” I replied with a chuckle.
*
Martin now enjoying the sanctuary of his room, sat on the edge of his bed and pondered what he would gain if anything, by going to Nicholas Road, Dagenham and enquiring about staying at Lily’s house for a week or so. On the one hand he thought, what a dirty dismal place Dagenham is, but then on the other hand he reasoned it could in fact be an ideal place to operate from. When one considered the opportunities that were on offer in this area, for instance, Briggs Motor Bodies, then there was Fords itself, and of course there was also Dagenham Docks, and umpteen other industrial factories he probably didn’t even know about yet. So now having weighed up all the pros and cons, he decided it would be worth a try. Now with everything quiet in the vicinity, just a lone all clear disturbing the atmosphere, for those fortunate enough to still be alive and could appreciate it. Martin laid back and went into a deep peaceful sleep. Next morning he assumed it was the breakfast of egg and bacon that had put him in a positive frame of mind, for soon after he was dressed and ready to go. Once in Nicholas Road, Martin very quickly found the house he was looking for and as he’d been told, Lily the landlady was indeed eager to take in a lodger. So there and then a deal was struck for full board and lodging for one week, cash in hand.
Having paid a week in advance, Martin decided he would in fact stay that night, this he reasoned would allow him the next day, being a Sunday, to familiarise himself with his new surroundings. He therefore wished Lily a good night’s sleep and retired to his own room.
*
All our speculating, concerning DC Willis having it off with another young lady, were dashed when he suddenly appeared walking towards us. However when we finally made contact, he informed us he’d come from Hornchurch police station via a complex system of alleyways that were prolific in Hornchurch. Nonetheless as DI Selby was about to ask why the car was parked so far away, Willis gestured for silence “Save it” he said, then excitedly burst out “I’ve just been told our man’s been spotted in Nicholas Road, Dagenham”. From the corner of my eye I saw Dave smile, and raise both hands in total disbelief. “Yeah, g’on pull the other one mate” he groaned. Nevertheless Willis persisted, raised his hand in front of Dave’s face. “No listen to me, it’s true, that bloke who said he saw this feller throw an explosive device alongside Heathway cinema, has just reported seein’ ‘im again in Dagenham this time, near where he himself lives” DC Willis insisted. I looked at Dave and could see he wasn’t too sure. “Could be somethin’ init Dave” I reasoned. After a moments silence, Dave seemingly half-convinced, grabbed Tony by the arm, pulled his face up close “Right, and who passed this loads of codswallop on to you then my old friend?” Dave demanded. Willis pulled away, gave Dave and me a hopeless look, then forcefully replied, “The bleedin’ Hornchurch super of course that’s who, and ‘e also told me to come and fetch yer quick as possible, coz ‘e wants to see yer”. Dave just grunted, gave me a smile and said, “Right, don’t let’s ‘ang about ‘ere then”. So it would seem from out of nowhere our luck had suddenly changed.
34:
AUGER’S MISTAKE
When Martin awoke that Sunday morning, he wasn’t surprised to see the inclement weather still persisting, sky full of dark clouds with a continuous drizzle cascading from them. However whilst enjoying his first breakfast in his new lodgings in Nicholas Road, his new landlady, Lily, informed him rain had been forecast for the next two days and although it was still reasonably quiet outside at the moment, an air raid warning had in fact sounded about an hour ago, “now let’s see” she said while glancing at a clock on the mantlepiece “oh yes, must have been around eight o’clock this morning they started” she further added. Martin gave her a puzzled look “And yet nothing’s happened so far, that’s strange, I wonder why?” he said as though speaking to himself.
It was sometime later while sitting in Lily’s lounge, enjoying a cigarette and a cup of tea over-sweetened with saccharine, that Martin told her he’d been invited over to a friends’ house for tea that afternoon. Lily wished him a pleasant afternoon before retiring from the room. After Lily’s departure Martin relaxed awhile, he then decided that having given a reason for his absence from the house that evening, it would be preferable for him to leave immediately after lunch. He therefore moved to the kitchen where he knew Lily would then be preparing an early lunch. On entering the small kitchen, Martin studied Lily’s figure from behind as she stood at the sink, very nice strong legs he thought, with a trim waist and a firm little bottom. He was at that moment considering whether it would be wise of him to try his luck once again, but she suddenly turned to face him. “Oh I didn’t know you were there dear, can I help you in any way?” she brightly enquired. “I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, just wanted to tell you I’ll probably be late tonight, will that be alright?” he softly enlightened her. “Yes, that will be fine dearie, I’ll leave the key on the string, now don’t you worry, you enjoy yourself” she advised.
*
When Dave and I arrived at Hornchurch police station it was a Superintendent Sinclaire we were urgently rushed in to see and yes, according to him, it would seem all of a sudden our luck had made a drastic turn for the better. DC Willis was right all along. The new ‘super’ (God bless him) didn’t waste any time. On entering his office, he promptly advised us we’d be on our way to Dagenham within minutes, “However, before you leave I’ll tell you exactly what’s been happening”. He then went on to explain in a calm clear voice, how the Dagenham police had come by some vital information which they then passed on to us.
Now once again back in Dagenham I entered the house with trepidation knowing full well my life could be in immediate danger, this on account DI Selby and me had seen our antagonist slip through the open front door of a bomb-damaged house, which stood alone in Nicholas Road some distance away from several recently bombed-out buildings. The reason we’d cottoned on to this bugger so quickly was due to a local good Samaritan, who’d reported having some sort of altercation with a bloke, he’d seen a week or so ago deposit an explosive device alongside the Heathway cinema. Of course the accused man vehemently denied being anywhere near Heathway that time or at any other time, for that matter.
Coincidently it so happened that while this good Samaritan was actually standing explaining to us exactly what had transpired between them, the very man he was then accusing, strolled smartly passed us without showing any sign of recognition whatsoever, and although our informer was about to say something to this man, Selby immediately signalled him into silence, and strange though it may seem, it was at that moment I finally got a clear unrestricted view of this miserable bloody creatures face who I’d danced the highland fling with, in that bloody hut on Biggin Hill airfield sometime back.
Anyway, Dave quickly instructed our informer to stay in the area “There, pop over to that tea shop” Dave pointed “wait for us there, we’ll not be long,” he promised as we edged away and started following our bloody elusive adversary. “We won’t grab the bugger just yet, let’s wait, see where he’s goin’, might be a gang of the sods hoard up somewhere” Dave rattled off. “I bloody ‘ope not” I replied as we tagged along behind this tall sod, a man I’d been waiting to have another sparring session with since he’d presented me with that bleeding tin hat in the face last time we’d met.
*
Depositing his last two grenades at Every Ready’s battery plant had caused Martin no problem at all, simply because that Sunday afternoon being damp, cloudy and miserab
le, had not surprisingly robbed the local inhabitants of any desire to stray far from home. So with no one about to observe his actions, Martin had primed his last two grenades, then quickly threw them onto the roof of this small battery factory and thereafter began a tedious journey back to Nicholas Road. It was however at that moment, he’d heard three or four bombs explode a short distance away. The sound, it would seem, came directly from the direction, where he was now heading.
As Martin traversed Wood Lane, he became aware that a mixture of vehicles, which consisted of fire engines, ambulances and police cars were gathering hereabouts. Nevertheless Martin continued on his way, but on turning from Wood Lane into Valence Wood Road, he suddenly noticed three men standing to one side in deep conversation, near a group of people that were milling around, all seemingly intent on helping others exit from what appeared to be a bombed building, at one end of the road. He immediately recognised two of the three men. One he’d had a dispute with some time earlier, yet somehow it was the other shorter blonde-haired man he would if possible like to avoid, for he remembered when they’d had their last encounter at Biggin Hill, he had disabled this blonde feller with the help of a tin hat, and he instinctively knew that blondie would be looking for revenge.
There was no doubt in Martins mind that his blonde adversary and a taller man whom he’d never seen before were in fact police officers. As it was, he’d actually turned into Valence Wood Road, and started for Nicholas Road when he saw at once it was Nicholas Road itself that had indeed received the bomb, and to his horror his lodgings had been completely demolished. Martin therefore made a point of ignoring these three men who had seemingly lost all interest in him. One of them in fact, it would appear, began directing one of the others to a small tea room which stood at the end of Wood Lane. Nevertheless be that as it may, at this point Martin knew he would now be under continuous observation, so bearing this in mind, he quickly decided to forego making enquiries regarding Lily’s whereabouts. Instead he reasoned, it was imperative for him to execute every trick he knew, in order to avoid capture. He then accordingly leapt over the front gate of a bomb-damaged house which stood at the end of Nicholas Road. He went straight on through a wide-open front door that he took the trouble to close behind him.