“The what?” Cade had a genuinely puzzled look. “The seabird?”
“We assumed so. We’ve been sat around his bed hoping he’d come round. It was the last thing he said to me. ‘Lad, don’t forget to tell them about the albatross.”
“Dementia?” Cade asked, cautiously.
“I’m not sure. I did some research and kept coming up with bloody great seabirds. I visited him last night after you had left. He was adamant he’d already told me. Said it would make sense of it all. Talked about his time in the navy – as he often did. Then closed his eyes.”
“Do you think it’s important? I’ll be honest, he told us some amazing stuff, but between us, I’m not sure how I can help – or for that matter what it was he was trying to tell us. And now…” He looked across at the bed, surrounded by adults and a few teenagers, one holding her grandfather’s lifeless hand.
“You only got the one kid?” asked Cade.
“No, two, you’ve just missed the other one. Busy girl, looks a lot like her mother, always on the move, people to see blah, blah.”
“I know that feeling. Was the separation amicable?”
“As amicable as it could be, I guess. I am older. She went her way, I went mine, but we are still friends.”
It was clear he didn’t want to be pressed on the matter.
“Digby I’m concerned that I may not be able to learn what it was, that was so important.”
Digby Denby beckoned Cade to come closer.
“Look mate, I’ve got no idea either, but dad wasn’t just an Able Seaman, he rose through the ranks in the end, had a role at Admiralty House, although no one knows what that was because most of the people he served with are long dead. Either that or bumped off… He finished his time at the Ministry of Defence HQ at Whitehall. The cheery old man you see lying in that bed? He holds a secret Jack. I pray one of us can extract it from him before it is too late.”
“Or would it be better left untold?”
“I see where you are coming from, but no, only a week ago he started to tell me more and more, said he needed to leave ‘this marvellous life’ knowing he had purged his soul. And now I’m bloody well stuck with the fact that it might be genuinely important. He’s away with the fairies half the time bless him. He nods but I do question whether it goes in.”
“And it might not be important. It was probably seventy years ago, but perhaps it’s no longer relevant?”
“Then sir, you are free to walk away just like the navy did all those years ago. We need to go anyway, we are all tired. But please, will you sit with him a while? Ring me if you need me. Please.”
“Of course. I genuinely have nothing else to do other than recover from jet lag.”
The family took it turns to kiss the old man, then left without a word, leaving Cade to quietly pull up a chair.
“Hello Tom, it’s Jack, I’m told you can hear me, so listen up old fella, I didn’t come all this way to be bloody well ignored. I’ll go and grab a cuppa then you and I can have a chat.”
It was reverse psychology – on a ninety-something man with weeks to live, dementia and now a stroke.
“Fair enough you miserable old bastard, ignore me. I didn’t want to hear your pathetic stories of the war, anyway. Your type makes me sick.”
He saw the slightest movement of the right eyelid first, then the left, just enough to let a hint of light fall onto the aged eyes underneath, then a subtle, almost gentle parting of the coarse white beard to reveal a developing, wry and toothless smile. Then Lieutenant Commander Denby Royal Navy Retired spoke.
“Pull the curtain around us quick.”
Cade was stunned. The old man had not just heard him, he’d been waiting for him. The wily old fox and the youthful hound.
“Pass my teeth, would you?” He fumbled with the top set, seating it to his satisfaction, licked his lips then spoke. “Clever lad. How did you know?”
“Christ sake Tom, you nearly gave me a bloody heart attack. What the devil are you playing at?” He hissed from a foot away.
“I’ll explain, but if you hear anyone coming, assume I’m dead. Shed a tear if you have to. I know I can trust you to act. Now, when’s Daniel getting here?”
“Look assume he isn’t. If you need to talk then talk, but don’t drag it out, there is a chance you might actually die, and then where would that leave us?”
“None the wiser, and you the prime suspect!” He giggled to himself. Cade could have happily throttled him, but his appreciation for the old mariner was growing by the moment.
“OK, then talk. And explain why me?”
“That’s the easy part. My son reckoned he knew your dad and I know your old man was a sailor too so it must be in your DNA somewhere – and sailors can’t stand not knowing a good story, so pull up a pew and I’ll spin you a dit or two.”
“I didn’t come all this way for tales of the high seas.”
“Ah, but you did. Now listen.”
Intrigued, Cade sat back and did as he was told.
“We made it back to England intact, unloaded the cargo of food and Bauxite at Southampton and waited until dark to move the most valuable commodity – people. Those that survived were bundled into trucks and trains and taken north and east, away from the cities.”
“To do what?”
“To work. We used aircraft hangars and prisons, some were forced into underground bunkers, large-scale operations that were built, in case the Germans ever landed in Britain. I’m sure I can’t remember them all now.”
“And no one knew they were there?” Cade appeared incredulous.
“No one Jack. Not a man or a woman or inquisitive child. They were for all intents military bases and thus out of bounds. And that’s how they remained for the duration of the war.”
“And when the war ended?”
“Now that’s the whatever-thousand-dollar question young man. When the war ended, they remained. Kept as prisoners of the state, manufacturing, getting the country back onto its feet. The men were separated from the women and the children…” he misted over.
“And the children Tom?”
“We never saw them again.” He looked away and down onto the ward floor, focusing on a crumb rather than look Cade in the eye.
“They were killed?”
“I don’t know lad. Honestly, I don’t. They were like people farms. They were desperate times. We didn’t know if the war might start again…”
“So, you are now trying to justify this? Is this what this is all about? You want to confess to me so you can enter the Pearly Gates with an unblemished record?”
“Jack!” He hissed his own warning. “Now you bloody listen to me. We knew, the British government knew and people like me were told to keep quiet or risk hanging, or imprisonment. Our workforce had been decimated, so we made the best of a very bad situation. People gravitated to Britain after the war, you know that, we just took an awful lot more than the record books will ever show.”
“An atrocity from the past that has been neatly hidden away until now. It’s shameful Tom and I want no further part in it. Good bye.”
Cade stood but Denby grabbed his hand.
“Sit down! I have not finished.” His eyes were fixed on Cade. “You owe me this chance.”
“I owe you nothing old man.”
“That woman you call Adaeze?”
“The doctor? What about her?”
“I call her Apiyo. It mean’s first-born of twins. She is one of the missing children…they are everywhere Jack. They wear a padlock around their necks. Subtle, in some cases. Others have had it marked on their shoulders. A padlock. Like this one.”
He handed the chain and lock to Cade.
“What is this?” Cade needed to leave, but also wanted to know the answer to at least one of his questions.
“And what has this got to do with me?”
“You investigated the Eastern European crime team, did you not? I read about your team in the papers. You successfully
put an end to their game. Am I right?”
“Yes, me and a team of people.”
“And you found that you had enemies within?”
“We did, but that’s all finished.”
The old man smiled, it was a smile that said ‘I pity you young man.’
“You genuinely don’t get it do you?”
“Genuinely. No.”
“Walk around any city in the world, our own capital, a tourist trap somewhere, and actually open your eyes, start looking for these things instead of staring at your bloody phone or a pretty girl or a man you think is a terrorist or a criminal.”
He held the chain up and allowed Cade to take it.
“It’s the same as hers. Go and look if you want. She’ll show you. On each is inscribed a code. People leave them in places and wait and hope…”
“For?”
“For someone like me to come along. For a brighter future my friend. One that in the fifties and sixties I wish I could have given them, but back then I was a small cog in a much larger machine. I finished my time at the Ministry of Defence HQ – where I’m ashamed to tell you they put me in charge of Griffin.”
“Griffin? As in the operation we worked on targeting the Eastern European syndicate?”
“No, as in the much larger operation that focused on the future of Europe, that implicated many old men who have since shuffled off this mortal coil. In the early eighties young men were identified who might be able to carry the secret. One of those was John Daniel. We worked together at Whitehall when he was just a young copper. They seconded him because he showed promise. He swore an oath far greater than the one that said he’d protect life and property. He took that oath and promised to take it to the grave.”
“Look, I’m used to working in the Need to Know space Tom but this is too much, all too confusing. I simply don’t understand…”
“I’m not asking you to understand it Jack, I’m asking you to bloody do something about it now.”
“Why? What good can that do?”
“An awful lot. You see…” He stopped himself, swallowed hard, the mouth ulcers that were spreading by the day made an unconscious action ever more difficult. “The albatross never actually stopped…she’s changed possibly, but they tell me she’s never actually stopped.”
“I think you need to rest Tom. You are making no sense.”
Denby leant across and pointed at Cade with a mangled index finger. “I am making absolute sense my boy and now you must carry the burden like I…” He stopped, twisted in pain, his eyes narrowed, pupils dilated. He gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through it.
“Are you OK?” Cade was genuinely concerned. “Tom?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s the disease, it’s everywhere. The thing is lad I haven’t been able to remember any of the important facts. I blocked it all out. They call it PTSD nowadays. I just blocked it all away. That night. I saw such horror, worse than anything in the war, men, women…and children. Just kids, floating in the bloody water, Jack. And something in my mind clicked that night and until very recently I’ve not been able to see it in my mind. As if I have been protecting myself from my own mind. But something happened a few weeks ago and the recollections have just got stronger, keep flooding back. A tidal wave of memories and I’ve got to do something now I know. And I will leave here with my head held high and my reputation intact. Whatever it takes…”
“And you can live with the fact that you might have allowed the deaths of many innocent kids?”
“No. Actually, I can’t live much longer with the secret of where the children of those kids might be – and who might be trying to find them. One by one. The original dozen…they…”
“This is about revenge – for something the current generation has no knowledge of?”
“Nothing could be further from the truth Jack. It’s about why every criminal entity exists.”
“And that is?”
“Money. Cold-hearted cash.”
“That makes this whole episode worse, then, Tom.”
“I can only agree, it has been kept quiet for so long but I worry now that someone, somewhere has opened Pandora’s Box.”
“Is it too late to close it?”
“I suspect so lad.”
The curtain moved slightly. There was never a breeze in an ever-warm ward like this one. Cade stopped. Held up a hand. Silence. Too late.
“Hello?”
He stood and moved towards the curtain, opened it a few inches.
“Digby. I thought…”
“You thought I’d left. I can see that now. Well, sadly for you and that man that I’ve placed on a pedestal all my life I heard every word. Every, sordid, word.”
“Now look…” Cade held up a hand, trying to maintain the peace. It was what all police officers instinctively did.
“Don’t, Jack! I heard what I needed to hear. My father has been playing at being ill – and I’ve been the victim.” He pulled the curtain further back.
“You should be ashamed you charlatan…”
“Son, it’s not how it seems. You need to trust me. I am ill, very, worse than I have let on, but I cannot go until I have cleared my debts to society and those people. You have to understand me.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I’m going. I’ll decide whether you are worthy of my precious time after I’ve slept on it, but right now…”
“Then go. And tell the kids I love them all. And Steven…I’m sorry if you are ashamed of me, sins of the father and all that, I hope one day you might understand. I am one of the good guys.”
“Please. From what I just heard you are no better than Hitler’s henchmen.” He let the curtain close and walked away.
“Shall I follow him?” Cade was motioning to go after the younger man.
Denby was fighting back tears, struggling to swallow. “No, leave him. He needs to do what he thinks is right. I can only hope that when this all comes out in an inquiry that he will see me in a better light.” He doubled over in pain, breathing quickly. His time on earth had just been shortened.
Cade let him recover from the spasms that racked his body. He was on board.
“OK. What do I need to do?”
“Get me somewhere, away from here, where I can die in peace but still help you. Word will spread soon. They’ve got people everywhere. Probably even in here.”
“Do you have any suggestions? What about drugs?”
“They make no difference – apart from the morphine. Get that and we are laughing. Speak to Adaeze, she’ll help.”
“Why her?”
“Just ask…OK…Just ask.”
Cade knew from that moment.
Cade left the hospice, got to the car and dialled a number.
“Cade you right muppet! How are you my old friend? I knew you were in town, as all the lights dimmed slightly…” The voice and upbeat tone were hugely familiar and almost comforting.
“Jason, listen, something quite unusual has happened in the last twenty-four hours. I need to run it past someone. It’s connected to your unit, but historically. I’m going to need some help with this.”
“How long ago are we talking? My team are only dealing with stuff from the last three months. And we’ve got a new Commander on board, running the show, signing the cheques…he’s called…”
“How does 1943 sound?”
The phone went silent.
“Sorry, did you just actually say 1943? As in the Second World War – as opposed to quarter to eight?”
“I did. It’s a long story.” He sounded flat.
“Crikey, I don’t think I’ve heard you this serious since the Jackdaw kidnapped your girlfriend, shaved her head, tried to disembowel her and cut out our number one informant’s eyeball as they both laid strapped to a table in a disused and leaky building. Is it that bad?”
“Worse. I think. Look, I need a few hours to explain. JD is on the way from NZ. He holds one of the keys. Or at least I hope he does.”
“To what exactly?”
“between you and me, I have no bloody idea. All I know is I need to shift an old sailor to a place of safety before they find him and start down a path of retribution.”
“You are making no sense my son, but rest assured I will back you one hundred and one percent. It’s what good friends do and you are still considerably in credit in this fair city. Now, talking of your girlfriend by God she looks great. The New Zealand climate obviously did her good, slight tan, lost a few kilos and even her hair is thinking about approaching shoulder length.”
“Good to hear. Did she mention Tom Denby?”
“If that’s your old sailor, then yes, briefly.”
“I need you to run him through whatever systems you have access to Jason. There’s more to him that meets the eye so be careful.”
“Covertly?”
“As covertly as you possibly can. And get an analyst to start researching padlocks.”
“Padlocks? You gone all M&S in your old age?”
“You mean S&M.”
“Same thing.”
“No, one is a retail store, the other involves masks, clamps, chains and whips.”
“Bloody hell, all these years and I was getting it wrong. No wonder Mrs. Roberts never likes the underwear I buy her. Leave it with me. Padlocks you say?”
“Yes. Padlocks. You know those growing collections you see in places like Westminster Bridge? On bridge railings? Paris? Probably Rome. New York? In fact, they are everywhere.”
“I do. Can’t see the point but go on.”
“It’s a new social craze. They are called love locks. But within those collections is a message. A system of communication and it’s entrenched way deeper than a lover’s message. And look up the word albatross. Run a broad search. Open source, dark net if we need to.”
“Will do.”
“And can we get your HOLMES researcher onto this too? This is all need to know so let’s keep this within the team for now.”
The Home Office Large Major Enquiry System was used by all UK police forces, predominantly in major crime and murder cases, but also when the need arose, in disaster management and missing person enquiries.
The Angel of Whitehall Page 9