Golden Eights

by Nigel Seed

  His voice was distant as he said, “The red van came from Lancashire, it may have been from Lancaster. There was a green one from Salisbury. The black one was from Derby. There was another one but I don’t think there was an address on it. There was a painting on the van side, I seem to recall. I think it was a painting of a horse pulling an open cart.” The old man sat back. He looked exhausted. “Isn’t it strange?” he said. “I can’t remember what happened yesterday, but I can recall the names of towns on a vehicle side after more than seventy years. But then travel was not as easy in those days and those town names were almost exotic. I had never been further from home than a trip to the seaside at Southend.”

  He slumped in his chair and Helen stood. “I think that’s all you are going to get from him today. He’s tired out. If he says anything else I could give you a call.”

  She ushered them back to the front door. As they entered the hallway they could hear the quiet breathing from beside the fireplace. Ivan made his goodbyes and headed for the car.

  Jim paused in the doorway. “When he recovers would you please tell him how much we appreciate his help?” He checked his watch. “We seem to have taken quite a lot of your time. I hope that won’t make Mr Jennings’ lunch too late?”

  She smiled and shook her head.

  “Nicely done,” she said. “Mr Jennings is long gone. I just have my granddad to look after now.”

  Jim noticed the old man’s breathing had changed as he sat up and looked straight at Helen. Then he shook his head slowly and sank back into his chair.

  Jim turned back to face Helen and flushed slightly. “So much for my attempts at subtlety. OK then, in with both feet. Do you ever come up to London and if you do can I buy you lunch next time?”

  She looked him over. “Good recovery. Yes I do and yes, you can.”

  He handed over his business card. “I’ll look forward to it. My mobile phone number is on there. Let me know when you are coming and I’ll book somewhere nice.”

  He walked back down the driveway and climbed into the car. They waved and Ivan drove away. Jim couldn’t resist checking and she was still standing in the doorway watching them leave and speaking into her mobile phone.

  “Stop smiling, Ivan. It’s just lunch.”

  Ivan nodded. “Yes sir. And about time too.”

  Chapter 14

  Jim spent the weekend sailing on a friend’s boat on Rutland Water. The two-day regatta was very pleasant although the competition was a little too skilled for them. They clapped politely at the prize giving all the same. On Monday morning Jim fought his way through the crowds on the London underground and got back into the office in time to climb the stairs with Geordie who was now back from his brief honeymoon. The three man team assembled in their over large office and sipped their morning coffee, assembling everything they now knew about the special units of the Secret Army.

  They had a good indication that the gold that did not go to Canada during Operation Fish, was entrusted to four special units. These units had been spread around the country and as far as they could tell, they were in Lancashire, Wiltshire and Derbyshire with one in an unknown area.

  Jim sucked his teeth. “Right, gents, we need to find an old man called Cyril Davies. I want both of you to work on it. We may end up having to check all the nursing homes around Derby to see if we can find him.”

  Ivan and Geordie stood up to go back to their desk to start the search.

  “Any idea how many homes there are around Derby, boss? By the way, just who is Cyril Davies?”

  “No idea at all, but before you get into that you might see if the Department for Work and Pensions can help you. Cyril used to be a friend of Sam’s grandfather, in the Auxiliary Units, a long time ago so at his age he must be getting an Old Age Pension and to pay that I guess they have to have an address.”

  “Fair enough boss, but DWP is a huge department. Who the hell do I talk to?”

  Jim smiled. “That’s an easy one. Take your copy of the Prime Minister’s letter and go and see the Permanent Secretary. Despite the strange job title, he or she is the permanent head of the department and all you have to do is give them the problem. They should be able to task someone in their staff to get you the information in double time. The trick is not to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  Geordie nodded. “This could be a lot of fun.”

  Ivan and Geordie grabbed their jackets and headed out of the office, both wearing broad grins. Jim shook his head, he hoped the Civil Servants in the DWP were not too difficult with his two men or they might find their bubbles well and truly popped.

  Twenty minutes later the two soldiers walked through the front door of the DWP headquarters building and presented themselves at the security desk. They showed their military identity cards and asked very politely to see the Permanent Secretary. Naturally the security staff wanted to know if they had an appointment and told them that without one they would have no luck getting in to see their boss. Ivan and Geordie remained polite and asked the security people to call for the personal assistant to the Permanent Secretary to come and collect them. They reluctantly agreed and shortly a very attractive and smartly dressed middle-aged lady appeared to see them.

  She looked over her glasses at the two men and said, “I’m sorry, but you can’t just walk in off the street and expect a very busy senior official to drop everything to see you.”

  Ivan smiled sweetly. “But what if we said please?”

  The woman sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous!” and turned to leave.

  Geordie spoke up. “It really is important. Honest! We really would like to see him.”

  “Then you need to book an appointment and state your business.”

  “OK,” said Ivan, “who do we book it with?”

  “Me.”

  “Perfect. We would like an appointment please and the business is classified.”

  “Send me an email or a letter and I will see if I can fit you in sometime next week.”

  Ivan was tired of the game by now. “Oh, we have a letter already” and handed over the authority letter from the Prime Minister, “and of course we are prepared to wait. Anytime in the next ten minutes would do.”

  The Prime Minister’s letter worked its magic and in a little over ten minutes they were explaining to the Permanent Secretary that they wanted him to find a pensioner somewhere near Derby. After the customary bluster expected of a senior official, a more junior official was called in and instructed to find the person they were looking for. As they left the office, the official explained that a request of this kind would take time and they should call back next week. Ivan took the man by the elbow, turned him around and steered him straight back into the Permanent Secretary’s office. They walked in without knocking.

  “OK if I use your phone?”

  The Permanent Secretary was startled. “Why mine? Can’t you use one out in the main office?”

  “Of course I can,” said Ivan, “but I thought it would be more convenient for you when I pass the Prime Minister on to you so you can explain why your department, with all its expensive computer systems, will take a week to find an old age pensioner that you are paying.”

  Ivan paused while the two officials absorbed that and said, “We’re going for lunch now. We will be back in an hour and I think you’ll find that you want to give me the address as we walk into the building.”

  Chapter 15

  The two soldiers reported back to Jim in their office with the address of the nursing home they needed. Jim looked at the two of them suspiciously. “What have you two been up to?”

  “Oh nothing much, boss,” said Geordie, “Ivan has just been spreading a little of his innate joy and kindness to some civil servants.”

  Jim let it go by. No doubt he could deal with any complaints that came his way. But now they had more serious business and a clue to follow up. They needed to speak to Cyril Davies if his mind was still sharp enough to recall those far off days.

 
; “Right gents, time for us to start to earn our pay I think,” said Jim standing up, “get your gear ready, tomorrow we are going on a road trip. Geordie, will you book us a car for the morning. We’ll set off from here at about 9 a.m. Derby seems like the best place to start with Mr Cyril Davies. Oh and pack your working uniforms, I think we may need them at some point.”

  The drive the next morning was long and tedious with delay after delay on the motorway heading north. Eventually they joined the trunk road called ‘‘Brian Clough Way” into Derby. The nursing home was easy for the satnav to find and they pulled into the drive way and up to the imposing building in the early afternoon. While Geordie parked the car, Jim and Ivan went through the large front door and into the reception area. They were met by a harassed nurse who demanded to know their business. Jim explained that they had driven up from London to see Cyril Davies.

  The nurse seemed puzzled. “Cyril? I can’t remember the last time he had a visitor. Are you relatives?”

  “No,” said Jim, “we are from the Army and we need to see him to ask him a few questions. Is Cyril available? “

  “Well, the patients usually have their afternoon nap around now, but I will check for you.” She bustled away through an inner door while the two men stood and looked at the chipped and peeling plasterwork around the walls. “This must have been quite something when it was a private house,” said Ivan, “but it is well overdue a coat of paint now.”

  Jim nodded. “Hopefully all the money is saved for patient care, rather than making the building look pretty.”

  The nurse returned. “You’re in luck. He is awake and seems to be making sense for a change. Now listen, he’s very frail, so treat him gently. If he starts to get upset, stop asking questions. Got it?”

  “Yes ma’am,” said Ivan, “are you sure you weren’t a Drill Sergeant Major in a previous life?”

  The nurse turned and looked at him, “As a matter of fact I was an Army nurse and did two tours in Afghanistan. So I was a captain and don’t you forget it.”

  “That told you, Sergeant Major,” said Geordie who had just come through the front door.

  Jim said, “If you’re worried he will become upset, I can see him on my own if that will help? These two characters can take a walk round the garden.”

  Jim followed the nurse through the inner doors and along a wide corridor past a couple of sitting rooms where old people sat and stared at dusty television sets. They climbed a staircase with a threadbare carpet, up to the first floor. She led Jim into a clean functional room where an old man lay in bed, propped up on pillows

  “Cyril,” she said, “this is your visitor. Use the button to call me if you need me.” She turned to go, then stopped and said to Jim, “And you remember what I told you.”

  Jim sat down on the upright chair next to the bed.

  “Hello, Mr Davies,” he said, “I’m Major James Wilson of the Royal Engineers and I need to speak to you about your wartime service. James Lanton said you might be able to help me.”

  The old man stirred. “Jamie? I haven’t spoken to him in quite a while. Did he tell you we used to do the same job during the war?”

  “He did and that’s why I need to speak to you. You were one of the young lads who carried messages for the Auxiliary Units, weren’t you?”

  “I was, until late 1944 when I was drafted into the Army. For some reason they put me into a Lancashire regiment and I ended up guarding Belsen concentration camp after we liberated it from the Germans. I still have dreams about that place. Not nice ones either.”

  “Mr Davies, it’s important that you tell me about the Auxiliary Units. You know that they have been declassified, don’t you? But there are still many things about them that have been lost as the people have moved on.”

  “I think you mean died, Major. You don’t have to soft pedal around me. We have a lot of time to think about death in this place. It’s no stranger to me. What do you need to know?”

  “OK then. Can you tell me about the hidden bases around your area and in particular was there a base that was a bit different to the rest?”

  The old man lay back on his pillows and his eyes went up to the ceiling as he remembered. “I was a delivery boy back then. I used to take the groceries out to the old folks who couldn’t get about too well anymore. It seems strange that I am one of them now. Anyway, that was my cover for riding about the area. If anybody asked me, I was to say I was going to some of the outlying sheep farms with something they’d forgotten. I used to hide messages inside the frame of my bicycle. They were good days, except in the really bad parts of winter.”

  Jim waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have got lost in his own memory. “And was there anything different about any of the bases you supported?”

  “Oh, what? Oh yes. Sorry, I was just remembering. There was one base where they called themselves the ‘Blue John Fusiliers.’ I used to meet them in one of the caves outside Castleton, but I never saw their base.”

  “Which cave was it?”

  “I always met them in Peak Cavern, the one the locals used to call the Devil’s Arse; they changed the name when Queen Victoria came to visit. We used to meet in the old rope working area. I think their actual base must have been somewhere else, but I never saw it.”

  “Is there a road up to that cave? And did they ever give you a clue that they were going to do anything different to the other teams?”

  “There was a track for the old rope wagons and after the war they made a better roadway for the tourists. But no, they never spoke much to me. They weren’t nasty, but they weren’t friendly either. They always seemed very serious.”

  Jim sat back to think about what he had heard. He looked out of the window to see his two men sitting on a bench in the garden talking and enjoying the sunshine. He turned back to the old man in the bed. His face had changed, it seemed to have sagged and his eyes were unfocused.

  “Mr Davies, are you alright?”

  “What? Who are you?” The old man seemed confused and was starting to become frightened. Jim stood quietly and left the room. As he entered the corridor he saw the nurse who had led him in.

  “I think Mr. Davies needs you,” he said, “he seems to be having a problem.” She stepped past him into the room and settled the old man down. She came back to Jim.

  “Not your fault,” she said, “he has periods of lucidity, but then he lapses like that when he gets tired. He’ll sleep now.”

  “OK, that’s a relief. Can you give him my thanks when he wakes, please?”

  “He’s unlikely to remember you and it might confuse him more if I tell him about you.”

  Back outside Jim walked around to the garden at the rear of the building to find his two men. They saw him coming and rose to walk towards him.

  “Any luck boss?” said Ivan.

  “Possibly. We might have a lead on the consignment that went to Derbyshire. So, do we follow that lead first or would you like a trip to the seaside?”

  Chapter 16

  They drove the forty-four miles to the village of Castleton in the hills of Derbyshire. Then, having booked into the small bed and breakfast hotel, in the village center, the trio walked the short distance to Peak Cavern, at the edge of the village. They bought their tickets to enter the show cave and joined one of the guided tours. The guide was knowledgeable and attractive so they paid close attention to her talk on the history and geology of the cavern. These caves had not been spoiled by being excessively ‘improved’ for the tourists and were impressive, in their own right.

  At the end of the tour, the three men sat on the dry stone wall outside the cavern and stared up at the overhanging mountain.

  Jim was the first to speak. “Well, Geordie, with your mining background you’re our underground expert. So what do you think?”

  “Well boss, I picked up a couple of brochures in the hotel before we came out and with them and the story that guide just told us, I think we have a big problem.”

&
nbsp; “Go on.”

  “That cavern has been a tourist attraction since before the time of Queen Victoria so Lord only knows how many people have walked through there. Plus, spelunkers who explore caves for a hobby come here frequently and finally there is still mining going on in the passages that lead to the remaining seams of Blue John stone.”

  Ivan turned to look at him. “We know all that, but so what?”

  “Seems to me that if thousands of people have been through here for well over a hundred years and found nothing, then we would have to be incredibly lucky to find anything hidden in there.”

  Jim and Ivan both nodded slowly and Jim said “That´s assuming that the hide is in the cave at all. We know that they met the messenger in there, but that´s all. They could have come from anywhere to get here.”

  “So realistically we are no closer?” said Ivan.

  Geordie shook his head. “Not sure that´s true. We know there are at least four big caves in this valley and we know they go a long way into the hill and have lots of passages within some of them. Plus, we know that this place has been mined since Roman times. Now unless miners have changed recently they don´t like to carry spoil and debris out of the mine if they don´t have to. What we did, when I was working in the mines, was when a gallery was worked out we would dump the earth and rocks from a new gallery in there. It seems unlikely they would just dig in the four big caves and not try to find other seams.”

  Ivan was puzzled. “Yeah, but so what? Where does that take us?”

  “What it means is we have two new avenues to explore. Are there any blocked passages that aren´t really blocked, but just seem to be? Or, and this seems more likely to me, they may have used one of the ancient test pits somewhere close by.”