The Strange Story of Linda Lee

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘I … I was only surprised,’ Linda said lamely. But her mind was seething with agitation. Like it or not, unless the hijackers were fanatics and blew up the plane with everyone in it, she would be forced to land in England. Her passport was Anna’s and she could not speak a word of Russian. Even if she destroyed it, she would be no better off. It was certain that the Immigration people would hold her until they had checked up on whatever story she told them. And, of course, they would cable Ottawa, to find out how she had got aboard the plane, and what was known about her there. The police in Ottawa would report that she had stolen a car. And—a new and terrible thought—perhaps she had choked the half-conscious Anna to death. If so, they would want her for murder!

  In any case, she was on the books of the British police for the jewel robbery. That had been only two and a half months ago. Two and a half months! She had gone through so much since then that it seemed a lifetime. And the police had long memories. Ten weeks were nothing to them. Her photograph among those of wanted criminals must still be in the memories of scores of policemen; and her height made her so conspicuous. She had no wig now, and her hair was not straight as it had been when she left Heathrow; but again its old halo of curls. What possible chance did she stand of remaining unidentified for long?

  Could she somehow induce Captain Jacko to get her past the barriers, so that officially it would not be known that she was back in England? Then she would stand a chance of going to earth in some London suburb.

  The aircraft had passed over the Irish Channel and began its long descent. Madly she sought a way that might persuade him to serve her purpose. At length she said huskily:

  ‘Captain. These papers I’ve got. They are important, terribly important. I stole them from the Russians. I tried to get them to our High Commissioner in Canada. But I failed. That’s why I took this aircraft. I thought I would be able to give them to the British Ambassador in Oslo. That is impossible now. But I must hand them to somebody who is really high up. They are secret, top secret. Even a British Customs man must not be allowed to see them. Could you possibly vouch for me? Take me through and to the Foreign Office in London? You can remain with me and see me hand them over.’

  His blue eyes were fixed steadily on hers. ‘So you are one of “C” ‘s people, after all.’

  ‘No. I’m just a private individual. This happened by pure chance. I was once the secretary to a nuclear scientist; I realised what these papers meant, so I stole them. But I’m not giving them up to anyone who would not realise their vital importance.’

  He considered for a moment, then smiled, ‘You are quite a girl, aren’t you? In fact, it makes me pretty proud to have met you. Well, everyone at Heathrow knows me. I think they’ll let you through with me, if I vouch for you. Anyway, for time enough for you to do your business with no questions asked.’

  ‘Oh, bless you.’ Linda breathed again, then added quickly, ‘I’ve only this Russian passport, remember. And I daren’t show that, as it would lead to all sorts of complications.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I can fix that, too. If only these bloody anarchists don’t blow us up before we can get off the aircraft.’

  The plane was now circling over the English countryside. Linda caught a glimpse of Windsor Castle and the Thames, then, a few minutes later, of the long Heathrow runways. Given that the hijackers could be dealt with, and provided her luck held, she would be at the Foreign Office within about an hour. Once she had delivered the goods she could say good-bye to Captain Jacko and fade away among London’s seven million inhabitants.

  Slowly the aircraft came down. It bumped twice lightly on the tarmac. The pilot reversed the jets. It braked to a halt, then taxied along to the great complex of airport buildings.

  Captain Fisher had sent out the secret radio signal that he had hijackers aboard. Preparations had been made for their reception. There came a crash of rifle fire from men concealed under jeeps and cars. The aircraft lurched as its big tyres flattened.

  Linda looked apprehensively at the Negress. Her eyes were wild and she again held up her bomb, ready to drop it. The air hostess bravely stood up and unbolted the rear door. Two minutes later a police inspector came on board, a revolver ready in his hand. The Negress stepped back and lowered her arm. The inspector grabbed it and jabbed the muzzle of his weapon hard into her ribs.

  Captain Jacko and Linda were first off the aircraft. He took her up the sloping passage to Immigration, walked her over to an elderly man at one of the desks and said, ‘Hullo, John.’ Then he held up his hand to screen his mouth and whispered, ‘No passport,’ then added a reassuring lie, ‘One of “C” ’s people. I’m seeing her through.’

  The elderly man smiled and nodded. They walked on and down to the Customs hall. There Captain Jacko waved to a ginger-haired officer. Pointing to Linda’s newspaper-wrapped beauty box, he called, ‘Wotcher, Dicky. Nothing to declare. The lady will see her luggage through later.’

  Linda breathed again as they walked through the automatic swing door of the exit on to the pavement, and asked, ‘Can we get a taxi?’

  ‘No need,’ replied Captain Jacko cheerfully. ‘The Chief Security Officer’s office is only a couple of hundred yards away, and we’ll walk over. He’s the liaison between Special Branch and the Foreign Office. Quite a big shot. Has to be with all the queer fish constantly coming and going from Britain’s biggest airport. You can hand your atom bomb, or whatever you’ve got, over to him with perfect confidence.’

  It was raining, but not hard. They walked the two hundred yards and entered the other building. Linda had no fears now. She had only to get rid of the packet of papers, thank Captain Jacko and be on her way to London.

  Inside the building they were taken up in the lift to the top floor. There, a secretary took Captain Jacko’s name and they were kept waiting for a few minutes. Then they were shown into a spacious, well-furnished office.

  Alone at a large desk covered with papers sat a man busily writing. Captain Jacko led Linda forward and said, ‘ ’Morning, old boy. I’ve brought a lady to see you.’

  The man at the desk looked up and Linda found herself face to face with Eric Dutton.

  Chapter 21

  Flight or Prison?

  Eric’s face remained expressionless. Only an almost imperceptible flicker of the eyes told Linda that he recognised her. He stood up, smiled politely and waved her to a chair; then he turned to her companion.

  ‘Jacko, old boy; I think this lady and I have met before. Would you mind leaving us alone for ten minutes or so, then coming back?’

  ‘By all means. I’ll go and clear my bags.’ He glanced at Linda and grinned. ‘It seems I was right about you, after all. Still, mum’s the word. Like me to clear your luggage as well, while I’m at it?’

  ‘Thank you. I’d be grateful if you would.’ Linda produced her ticket, tore off the baggage check stapled to it, and handed it to him.

  The moment the door shut behind Jacko, Eric turned on Linda and snapped, ‘Why the hell have you come back here?’

  She shrugged. ‘I had no choice. The aircraft was hijacked.’

  ‘Of course. For the moment I’d forgotten that. And now you’re properly up against it.’ He gestured toward a filing cabinet. ‘There’s a book in that with scores of photographs in it, and yours is among them. It’s my duty to hand you over to the police.’

  ‘Oh, well!’ She gave a heavy sigh. ‘I suppose I’ve had a run for my money, and was bound to be caught sooner or later. Let’s not prolong the agony, but get it over with.’

  ‘Linda, Linda,’ he shook his head reproachfully, ‘how can you possibly imagine that I’d do that after all we were to each other?’

  She smiled then. ‘So you mean to give me another chance to keep my freedom? That’s very sweet of you.’

  He shook his head. ‘No; it’s simply that I place some things above the law of the land. In this case it is my own conscience. If I sent for the police to arrest you, for all my life afterwards I’d t
hink of myself as another Judas Iscariot.’ He paused for a moment, then went on with sudden anger: ‘The aircraft you were on was to have flown to Oslo. Why, in God’s name, did you decide to return to Europe?’

  Tapping the newspaper-wrapped beauty box, which she had put on his desk, she replied, ‘This. I had hoped to hand it over to the British Ambassador in Norway.’

  ‘What’s in it?’

  ‘Some documents. I believe them to be nuclear calculations, and I stole them from the Russians.’

  ‘Stole them from the Russians?’ he echoed. ‘Good God alive! You can’t mean that! You’re pulling my leg.’

  ‘I’m not,’ she assured him. ‘Undo it, and you’ll see.’

  Picking up a penknife from a tray on his desk, he cut the string, then ripped off the paper. She operated the combination lock and opened the box. As he took out the thick packet of papers, he exclaimed:

  ‘By Jove! There are some thousand-dollar notes here as well.’

  ‘Yes. Four of them. I stole those, too. Originally there was a wad with nearly a quarter of a million dollars, but I lost most of them. They blew away in the street.’

  ‘No, Linda!’ he protested. ‘You really can’t expect me …’

  ‘To believe that?’ she finished for him angrily. ‘I do. I’ve never told you a lie in my life, and I’m not lying now.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, ‘I shouldn’t have doubted your word. But all this sounds utterly fantastic.’ As he spoke, he took the papers from their envelope, scanned the few top sheets quickly and went on: ‘I’m afraid all these algebraic calculations are gibberish to me. Are you really certain that they are nuclear formulae?’

  ‘No. I can only say that they look to me very like the sort of hieroglyphics that I saw our dear old Rowley working on scores of times. For all I know they may be children’s homework. But it seems hardly likely that the Russians would have been willing to pay two hundred and thirty thousand dollars for a set of O-level exercises.’

  ‘Damn it; of course you’re right. What a wonderful coup you’ve pulled off. You deserve a D.B.E. But these things are real hot potatoes. I’m going to lock them in my safe until the experts on this stuff can send a security van with an armed guard to collect them.’

  While he was locking away the papers, Linda relocked the box with the notes in it. When he returned to his desk, he asked, ‘But why Norway? You could have saved yourself a flight over the Atlantic by handing them over to our High Commissioner in Ottawa.’

  ‘I tried to, but was prevented. Besides, Canada had become too hot to hold me, and it was a chance to get out of the country. I’d been arrested there once already.’

  ‘What, by the police? And you managed to get away?’

  ‘Yes. I was caught in an hotel up in the Rockies, but I got out of the window and ran off into the forest. Then I got lost in it and had to sleep all night in the snow.’

  His eyes beamed admiration. ‘What guts. Linda, you’re a girl in a million.’

  She gave a rueful smile. ‘That was nothing to what I went through the following day, or later in Chicago.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘It’s far too long a story to tell before Captain Jacko comes back with my suitcase. And, if you are going to let me go, I must think about what it would be best to do. You see, I bluffed my way on to that plane by using the passport of the Russian woman from whom I stole the papers. But the photograph of her in it is not remotely like me; so I couldn’t bluff your people here with it, get back on a plane and fly off anywhere else. Now I’m here in England, I’ve got to stay.’

  Eric thought hard for a minute, then he said, ‘If it’s ever found out that, knowing there is a warrant out for you, I didn’t have you arrested, I’ll be in trouble anyhow. So I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.’

  ‘No, please!’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t want you to risk getting into trouble because of me.’

  He waved aside her protest. ‘I can’t leave the office for the time being; but I’ll send you somewhere where we can meet and dine together this evening. Then we can talk matters over and decide what is best to be done.’

  As he finished speaking, he walked to the door and opened it. Jacko was sitting in the outer office with his luggage and Linda’s case beside him. Eric called him in and said, ‘Jacko, will you do me a favour?’

  ‘Of course, old boy,’ came the prompt response.

  ‘Thanks a lot. I want you to take this lady over to the Excelsior Hotel. She had better register as … Mrs. Diana Sutherland, British, address in London—’ Brown’s Hotel. Pull your weight and, if you can, get her a suite. Tell them she will be staying as my guest. O.K.?’

  ‘Roger!’ said Jacko. As he had his back to Linda he gave Eric a broad wink and added, ‘I wish I wasn’t too old to apply for your sort of job.’

  Twenty minutes later Linda had been installed in a comfortable bedroom in a suite that was usually reserved for visiting V.I.P.s or American millionaires who, for one reason or another, were forced to stay overnight at Heathrow. She was very tired, so undressed and went to bed right away.

  It had been wonderful to see Eric again, but she still hadn’t a clue about how he felt toward her. He had shown admiration for her exploit, but she was now proud of that herself; and any man might have been expected to praise a girl who had retrieved papers obviously stolen from the Americans, and got away from the Russians with them. He had made no reference to her theft of the jewels, except that there was a warrant out for her. And she could not attribute to love the fact that he had refrained from handing her over to the police. He had made it quite plain that to do so would have been contrary to his personal code of honour.

  For a while she worried over what the outcome of her landing back in England would be, then she drifted off to sleep.

  Ever since she had woken in Ottawa the previous day she had had a terribly exhausting time, so she did not wake until four o’clock. She felt hungry, but did not want to spoil her dinner. As she had in her bag some of the biscuits and chocolate she had bought in Hull she made do with the remainder of them, then got up and had a bath. Afterwards she spent quite a while getting her still fluffed-out hair back into good shape and doing her face. When it came to dressing, she was in a sad plight, as she had only Anna’s ill-fitting uniform in which she had got away, and she would have given anything for a pretty frock in which to dine with Eric. Eventually she decided that, rather than wear the ugly chauffeur’s tunic, she would stay in bed.

  Shortly after six o’clock there came a knock at the door which led to the sitting-room of the suite. When she called, ‘Come in,’ Eric appeared, looked at her with a frown, and said:

  ‘I expected to find you up and dressed.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she replied, nettled into sarcasm by his tone. ‘This is not another attempt to seduce you.’

  ‘Sorry if I got the wrong impression,’ he apologised. ‘I’m sorry, too, about that night when you came to my room in Park Side West. If I hadn’t behaved like a prude, we would have become lovers, instead of my clearing out. Then, when Rowley died, you would never have stolen those jewels, and got yourself in this awful mess. So in a way it’s I who am to blame for your becoming a criminal.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. You did the right thing. We couldn’t have concealed our … our fondness for each other for long. And if you had become my lover, I don’t think I could have brought myself to continue being Rowley’s mistress. I’d have had to leave him; and, after all he had done for me, that would have been a terrible thing to do. I’d have had it on my conscience for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you would. But why haven’t you got up and dressed?’

  ‘Because I’m too vain.’ She pointed to the tunic which was hanging over the back of a chair. ‘To get those papers I had to knock out the Russian woman who was sent to buy them, and I got away by dressing in her awful clothes. They are the only ones I’ve got, and I just couldn’t be
ar the thought of shaming you by wearing those while dining with you in the restaurant.’

  ‘Oh, we can have dinner sent up here to the sitting-room.’

  ‘That’s what I’d hoped you’d say. But I’d still hate you to see me in them. Would you mind very much if I wore my dressing gown?’

  He smiled. ‘It’s O.K. by me. But the waiter will think the worst.’

  ‘Let him, as far as I am concerned. It might not do you any good though, as you are a big shot in the set-up here. Still, I can make things all right by sitting at the table with one leg on a stool, and when you order you can tell the man that I must dine up here because I’ve been disabled by an accident.’

  ‘Have you?’ Eric’s face expressed concern. ‘I noticed this morning that you were lame and using a stick, but I thought that probably had something to do with the role you were playing.’

  Linda pushed back a corner of the bedclothes, drew out her bad leg, pulled her nightdress up to her knee and showed him her bruised calf. It was now a hideous blotch of blue and purple.

  ‘I say, that’s a nasty one!’ he exclaimed. ‘Did you get it in your fight with the Russian woman?’

  ‘No. I was knocked down by a car. It was my own fault, and I really treated the driver rather shabbily. I stole her car.’

  He roared with laughter. ‘Really, Linda! Those lovelies who appear in the James Bond films couldn’t hold a candle to you.’

  ‘Oh, you haven’t heard the half of it,’ she smiled. ‘When I was shown in here, I simply had to get some sleep. But now I suppose I ought to do something about my leg.’

  ‘Yes, you must. ‘When I order dinner, I’ll tell the waiter to get hold of some witch-hazel and a bandage. Is there anything special you would like to eat?’

  ‘No. You know all my favourite dishes of old. I’m happy to leave it to you.’

  Three-quarters of an hour later they had had their cocktails and were sitting down to dinner. When the waiter had left the room, Eric said, ‘There’s one thing which has always puzzled me. When Rowley died, why on earth did you steal those jewels?’