Red Hawk Rising

by Peter William Hall

  “Certainly,” said Lockley. He picked up the ‘phone, called the sergeant and asked him to arrange it.

  “Now, Commander, my sergeant was the one who went down to Parfleet St Peter to interview the witnesses and find out what he could. He has prepared a report that you can read. No doubt you will want to talk to him as well.”

  “Certainly, Inspector. If I could read the report first, please.” As he said this there was a knock on the door and a constable came in with a tray of cups of tea and coffee and some biscuits. He put it down on a small side table and left the office.

  The inspector handed Commander Rice the cup of coffee and said, “Here is the report. I’ll leave you for a few minutes to read it and organise my sergeant to see you when you are ready.” He gave Rice the report and left the office.

  About this time, Berin, alias Enderby, was leaving Louth Railway Station and heading for the bus stop to get the bus to Parfleet St Peter. He had a wait of about ten minutes so he went for a short walk down the street and back to give himself a little exercise after so much sitting on trains. By the time he returned to the bus stop a small queue of would-be passengers had formed. There was no-one that he recognised. When the bus came, Berin noticed that the driver was the same person who had driven the early bus that he had caught. As he paid his fare, Berin watched the driver’s face but he showed no curiosity or sign of recognition at seeing him. He just handed Berin his change, punched the ticket and handed it over. Berin walked about half-way down the bus and managed to get a seat that was vacant. He went and sat by the window and put his bag beneath his feet. The bus stopped frequently, mainly to drop people off. Eventually it came to the road at the edge of Parfleet St Peter. Berin rang the bell for the bus to stop, got up and went forward to the exit. The bus stopped and Berin got off with a thanks to the driver and headed into the village as the old Bedford wound its way down the road towards Mablethorpe. He decided not to disturb Walmar and would head straight for the shed, but as he walked down the street, he was seen by Walmar who was in the front garden with his children. Walmar waved to him and said, “I’ll come down and see you later. We’ve had a problem in the village today. My shed seems to be linked to it.”

  “Okay,” replied Berin. “See you later.” He walked on towards the shed and wondered whether Walmar would be suspicious of him or not.

  Commander Rice had finished reading the police report and was going through it with the police sergeant. “What’s your considered opinion of what happened to that young man, Sergeant?” he asked.

  “Well, sir, it seems to me that he was hit with something hard, like a metal bar, but it has glanced off the side of his head and smashed his shoulder. The blow was enough to render the victim unconscious and then I think he was somehow dropped into the harbour without it being noticed, hoping the outgoing tide would take him out to sea. There is a smashed crab pot in the lane behind the sheds that the victim could have used to defend himself. Unfortunately, there was no sign of what could have been the weapon and there was no evidence of someone being dragged to the edge of the wharf. So what I think is merely conjecture at this time.”

  “Well, Sergeant,” said Rice, “I think you could be close to the mark. That means that we’ll have to dig deeper. Thank you very much for your time.”

  “Thank you, sir,” replied the sergeant and left the office.

  Commander Rice looked over at the police inspector, “We’ll have to have another search of the area. I think I’ll drive over now and look around before it is completely dark. I’ll keep you informed. Thank you for your co-operation, Inspector. Together we should be able to solve this case.” The inspector replied, “Glad to be of help. It will be good working with you.” They shook hands and Rice left the office and the police station, got into his car and drove off.

  It was a little after 17.00 hours and the airmen not on duty were walking back to the domestic site. Corporal Hill saw his two corporal friends walking down from the hangar and waited until they caught up. “I want to go over to Parfleet St Peter this evening after we’ve eaten and see if I can catch up with Jamie’s girl-friend, Yvonne. She might be able to tell us something. You guys want to come with me?” he asked of them.

  “Yeah, why not?” said Dan. “We can visit the ‘local’ and see how it compares with The Hound & Pheasant.

  A nod from Lance completed it. “I suppose you’ll need me to drive you both over,” he said with a feigned look of being put upon. They already knew that Jamie had been sent to RAF Nocton Hall, having got the news from the sick quarters. They leaned into the wind as it blew coldly and strongly across the airfield, slowing their walking pace. Overhead, grey clouds scudded across the sky, a possible portent of rain later. The heating hadn’t yet been switched on in the barrack blocks and Andy thought that no doubt there would be a few cries for it to be put on.

  Yvonne had tried telephoning RAF Nocton Hall but had been given no information. She felt depressed and decided that, rather than stay at home by herself, she would go down to the village pub, The Plover & Gull, to have a meal and some company. She looked at the clock and realised that there was another forty-five minutes to opening time. Yvonne put the kettle on to make herself a pot of tea. She would have some teacake to go with it. Her jam was home-made from local blackcurrants, of which Yvonne felt quite proud. She settled down with the snack to read an Agatha Christie novel to pass the time.

  Down at the harbour, Berin was in his flat at the back of the shed. He was busy sorting out some clean clothes, ready to have a shower, when he heard the shed door opening and knew it would be Walmar. Footsteps across the shed floor and a knock on the door. Walmar called out in English, “Bill, you in there?”

  He replied, “Yes. Come on in,” and went from the bedroom to the living area. Walmar came in stood near the table. “Yvonne’s boyfriend, Jamie Rogerson, appears to have been attacked at the back of this shed and then dumped in the harbour. He was saved by Yvonne seeing him floating in the harbour and then diving in to rescue him. He was taken away in an RAF ambulance and the police interviewed witnesses. Then an RAF corporal turned up and was looking around the place. They found the old crab pot damaged, the one where I hide a key, and there were footprints leading from the wall up to the beach and going north,” explained Walmar. “The question is — why was Jamie around the back of this shed and who attacked him? It’s got me worried,” he said.

  Berin busied himself with putting the kettle on and getting mugs and coffee out without looking directly at Walmar. “Maybe he was going to the cold store to take something and someone attacked him. Who knows, maybe someone jealous of him and Yvonne,” suggested Berin. “Me, I was still travelling back.”

  “Where have you been?” asked Walmar.

  “I can’t tell you. It was orders from Moscow,” said Berin.

  Walmar sighed, “Okay, but just be careful. I think we are under suspicion because of where the attack happened. I’m going home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He left to walk back home to his family and a hot meal. Perhaps he should have invited Berin to come but there was something in Berin’s voice and manner that made Walmar suspicious. He needed time to think.

  Commander Rice was in his car and contacted the MI5 office in London by radiophone. He managed to be put through to Hamilton and told him of his conversations at Louth Police Station. Hamilton then told him what the corporal from the JSTU had found. He told Rice that the information had come from Air Vice-Marshal Denby who was overseeing the JSTU programme. “Take care, Edgar, the main suspects are Walmar and Enderby. We think that Corporal Rogerson was snooping around the premises and was attacked because of it. Don’t try that yourself without back-up. We may need to use the police and act with a search warrant. Although I suspect we’ll find nothing,” Hamilton warned him.

  “I understand, Iain. If possible, I would prefer to keep the police at a distance in case tactics are required that they are not allowed to use.” The two men were of equal ranking and on first n
ame terms.

  “Understood, Edgar. Let Communications know when you expect to call in so that we can stay close to you.” Rice pulled a face to himself — being told how to ‘suck eggs’— but he knew Iain Hamilton was concerned for him.

  “Fine, Iain, I’ll be careful.” Then he hung up and headed out to Parfleet St Peter. It was twilight when he arrived and he drove through the village, noting the different buildings and side streets. Then he drove down to the harbour. The tide was running in and the fishing vessels were lifting off the harbour floor. The wind buffeted the car as he turned it and there were white caps on the water in the harbour. It was clear that there would be no fishing this night. Rice decided that he would call in at the pub when he had finished his tour of the village and then head back to the hotel in Louth. He decided that he had better telephone in and let them know when he would arrive so he pulled up with a view of the fishing boats. While making the call he studied the fishing vessels and noted which one was the Penny Jane. He also noted Walmar’s shed. Tomorrow he would look around more thoroughly and possibly ask for a support man from MI5. It was that or ask for a policeman to accompany him. He preferred the former approach and would lodge the request when he checked in later this evening.

  Having completed his tour of the village, Commander Rice noted that it was now past opening time at the ‘local’ and drove back and parked across the road from the pub. There were others who had the same idea and were arriving and going into the bar. Rice got out of the car and followed them in. As he walked up to the bar, he overheard a young woman ordering a meal. Rice thought that it might be a good idea to follow her example. When the barman turned to him he ordered a pint of bitter and asked about a meal. “Well, it’s not normal for a Monday evening but you’re not the only one asking. We can only offer you fish and chips and peas tonight. The fish is fresh locally caught,” the barman said. Rice thanked him, paid for the meal and beer and went over to a corner table adjacent to one where some locals were sitting. Rice sat sipping his beer and listening to the conversation. They were all fishermen but this evening the main topic of conversation was the incident of the morning. The lady at the bar came over and joined the locals.

  “Here’s our heroine!” one of them exclaimed.

  “Shut up, Tim,” another responded. “Come on, Yvonne, don’t mind him. We’ll look after you.”

  “Thanks, Jimmy,” responded Yvonne, as she pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “Any news of Jamie, lass?” an older man asked.

  “He’s in the RAF hospital at Nocton Hall and he was still unconscious when I telephoned at three o’clock this afternoon,” she replied.

  “How are you feeling after that swim this morning?” Jimmy asked her.

  “I’m fine. A hot bath and a change of clothes, plus some brandy, made all the difference,” she said. The conversation went over the event and the arrival of the ambulance and the police. Jimmy and Tim were the two who went over in the dinghy to get Yvonne and Jamie before they drifted out to sea. The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Yvonne’s meal. “I just didn’t feel like cooking tonight,” she said to the others. Rice’s meal arrived shortly after and he started eating. The conversation at the other table turned to the weather and the likely fishing.

  The bar door opened and three young men walked in. “One of those RAF lads was here this morning,” Tim exclaimed. “What do they want?”

  “They most likely want to see me,” said Yvonne. “One of them is a good friend of Jamie’s.”

  “Well, we don’t want any trouble here,” Tim exclaimed.

  “They aren’t like that,” said Yvonne. “If they wanted trouble there would have been a lot more of them.”

  The three airmen went up to the bar. Andy turned and saw Yvonne as she looked up from her meal. He gave her a wave and turned back to the bar. Commander Rice followed it all with interest. “I’ll go over when Yvonne’s finished her meal,” said Andy. “I’d like to hear her version of the events.”

  “Better not upset the locals,” said Lance. “They might be a different proposition to the farm lads.”

  “Don’t worry,” Andy replied. “I’ve no intention of doing that.” They engaged in discussion on plans for the coming weekend. Commander Rice studied the three airmen. They looked fit and healthy. He noticed that none of them smoked, which he found interesting. They looked very relaxed and apparently not looking for trouble. He put the one who waved to Yvonne as the leader. It was interesting that he had been sent over once news of the incident had reached the RAF. He would have to question Iain Hamilton about that. He had come up with useful information that the police appeared to have missed. For some reason the police had not sent a detective out after the uniformed officers had reported back. He would have to focus on the risk to national security.

  As he was reflecting on this, the bar door opened and Bill Enderby walked in. Rice knew him from the photograph he had been given. He watched intently to see what reactions people would have. Enderby walked up to the bar, nodding to locals that caught his eye. He ordered a pint of Hewitt’s bitter. “When did you get back, Bill?” asked the publican. “You missed all the excitement this morning.”

  “Yes, Walmar was telling me about it. Not very nice, was it,” he replied.

  “Yvonne saved the young fella. She’s pretty upset about it, her being keen on him too,” came the comment.

  “Not good for the village. I guess we all might have to be more careful round here,” Bill Enderby responded. He took his beer to a table and sat down. Andy had noticed him from his position at the bar and heard part of the conversation. Cmdr. Rice watched the airman watching Enderby and Enderby not being fully relaxed. Rice felt that there was a little tension there.

  After about five minutes, Andy went across to Yvonne’s table, nodded a greeting to the locals and told Yvonne that he was sorry to hear what had happened. “We’re glad that you saw Jamie when you did,” he said. “Let us know if we can help in any way. Jamie was a good friend.”

  “Thanks, Andy,” she replied. “I’ll come over soon and tell you about it.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “We’ll just wait at the bar.” Then he went back and joined his friends. The fishermen had been watching and listening intently.

  After Andy left, Tim said, “Not a bad bloke for a member of the RAF.”

  “No,” said Yvonne, “he’s pretty good.” After about ten minutes, Yvonne got up and went to the bar. She ordered herself a drink and asked if she could join the three airmen for a few minutes. Lance pulled up a stool for her to sit on and insisted on paying for her drink. She thanked him and then told them her part in the morning’s saga. Yvonne also said that she knew of Andy’s visit in uniform that morning and what he had told Walmar. “It couldn’t have been Walmar because he was at the school when it all happened,” Yvonne said. “Bill Enderby was away until this evening so it couldn’t have been him and I didn’t see any strangers around the village this morning. Nor did anyone else.”

  “Well, someone attacked Jamie,” Andy said. “We’ll look forward to finding out. How about you, Yvonne? Are you going to be okay?”

  She replied, “Yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll be even better when I can go and visit Jamie.”

  “The attack couldn’t be linked to you, could it?” asked Andy. “Because you and Jamie are going out together?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. Then Yvonne added, “I’d better go back and join the local lads. Keep in touch, please.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll do that,” said Dan. Yvonne slid off the stool and went back to the table with the local fishermen. Commander Rice watched all this with interest. He couldn’t hear the conversation between Yvonne and the airmen but he would make sure that he was told. His meal finished, Rice decided that he couldn’t learn more there this evening and decided to drive back to the hotel in Louth. He would do more formal questioning tomorrow. Driving back, Rice wondered about Enderby and whether he could have come back
to the village early in the morning and then slipped away. Surely, in a village this size, someone should have seen him arrive. He would make enquiries tomorrow.

  As Rice had left the pub, the conversation had died down a little, the locals looking at the stranger and wondering who he was and why he had been to their village. Berin, alias Bill Enderby, paid closer attention. The man’s bearing, his dress and his hairstyle suggested a military person. The logical choice was that he was RAF but there was a slight gait to his walk that would suggest a naval background. Berin decided that he needed to prepare for a sudden departure. Finishing his beer, he said goodnight to the locals and headed back to Walmar’s shed. Inside the flat, Berin went about packing his belongings into a duffle bag.

  Chapter 13

  At RAF Nocton Hall, Jamie Rogerson regained consciousness. The duty nurse had been checking his pulse and taking his temperature when it happened. Jamie opened his eyes and saw the nurse. At the same time, he was aware of his head throbbing painfully and a pain in his shoulder. He tried to move his arm but found it was strapped to his body. “Lie still, Corporal. It will hurt less if you do,” said the nurse. ‘Corporal’ — he hadn’t been called that for weeks. His mouth was dry and he felt very thirsty.

  “Can I have a drink, Nurse?” he asked.

  “In a moment,” she said. The nurse entered the readings on his chart and then pressed the buzzer to alert the sister. Jamie tried to look around and saw that he was in a room and he was connected to a drip and a monitor. The nurse read the question in his eyes. “You’re at RAF Nocton Hall, near Lincoln,” she said. “You’ve been unconscious for a few hours.” He nodded. She lifted a glass of water to his lips and Jamie took a few sips. He nodded his thanks and the nurse put the glass back on the locker. As she was doing this, the duty sister came into the room and saw Jamie conscious. Flying Officer Judith Lazenby was twenty-nine years old, good-looking and very good at her work. She also knew how to put the patients at ease.