Against the Tide (49 page)

I pulled myself together and looked up again. ‘No. I'm disappointed in your lies. Would you like to show me your warrant cards or did the mad Afrikaner take them?' I tensed myself for a punch from Clitheroe.

My stomach churned. I waited. Nothing. Le Feuvre continued to sip his coffee, Greaves smiled at me, Clitheroe moved closer. They waited, letting my provocative questions slither on the floor.

‘Tell us about the rifle shots from Marcks' boat yesterday.'

How did they know that? Surely Rachel, Saul or Miko hadn't said anything? ‘I didn't hear any.'

‘Tell us about the rifle shots from your farm this evening.'

Well everyone must have heard those. I played deaf again. ‘I didn't hear any.'

‘Who sunk the boat then?'

‘I didn't know anyone had sunk it. I thought it hit the rocks. Did you rescue the survivors?'

He didn't respond – just studied me as though weighing his options. ‘Why do you want to kill the young German?'

I stared ahead.

‘Is it because he's been shagging your girlfriend?'

I'd anticipated that one. ‘Hardly – she's his sister.' At last I was able to reveal something they didn't know. I sat back with a smug smile.

A wicked grin crossed Le Feuvre's face. ‘Well I suppose you're lucky she isn't
your
sister – given that your father was fucking her mother.'

I threw myself across the desk and stretched for Le Feuvre's throat. ‘You bastard!'

Clitheroe got a chokehold around my neck, dragged me back and thrust me into the chair. ‘Any more of that, sonny and we'll have to handcuff you.' Clitheroe sounded like he would enjoy the procedure. I slumped back and glowered at them.

Greaves' voice was calm. ‘Jack, you recall when we met up with you in that street and you dived into the back of that van?' I nodded without looking up.

‘Why was that? Were you trying to hide something?' He sounded so patient I realised they could keep this up until dawn and there was nothing I could do about it.

‘I have nothing to hide.'

Le Feuvre snorted.

Greaves pulled out a little casket and tapped some snuff onto his wrist. He sniffed it loudly and offered the box to Le Feuvre, who declined.

‘Fine, Jack, we'll trade. I'll answer one of your questions then you answer one of mine. Does that sound fair?'

‘Like hell.'

‘Give it a try – go on, ask me something.'

I considered. I could always lie but then so could he. ‘Why are you persecuting my uncle?'

‘We're not persecuting him but he interests us. That's our job. We collect information on terrorists, whether they're Irish, Jewish or Communist. They're all the same really. My turn –'

‘What about the BUF? Are you persecuting them?' I interrupted. I wanted my money's worth first.

He laughed. ‘What? That bunch of clowns. Harmless the lot of them – not that there are many left. We're only interested in real terrorists – ones who place bombs, kidnap and assassinate – not windbags like Mosley.'

‘They're still there. It's just they've hidden their black shirts for the moment, swapped them for smart suits.' I remembered something Fred had told me and pointed at Le Feuvre. ‘Why, I bet he's still got his in a wardrobe at home. Isn't that right, Inspector, weren't you a leading light in the local branch of the Imperial Fascisti League?'

Le Feuvre's face blossomed into the colour of the Communist flag.

Greaves frowned.

‘Oh, it's true. They joined up with the local BUF a few years ago. Look at his face.'

Greaves shook his head but I'd knocked some of the wind out of his sails. ‘He's not the one being questioned. You're the one in serious trouble. Just remember that. Now it's time –'

‘What about Fairfield then? What do you know about him?' I sensed my questions were draining his patience to the point where he would drop his polite act. Even more reason to continue.

‘Sir Edward? Pillar of the establishment. Great servant of his country.' His endorsement sounded hollow.

‘And the Germans? What about them? Aren't they plotting against the government you're paid to protect?'

‘We don't protect governments. We uphold the law.' He was smiling again. He wasn't going to let a schoolboy unsettle him.

I tried again. ‘You still haven't answered my question. Why my uncle?'

‘He has some particular information we would like to retrieve.' He hesitated. ‘I think you know what that is.'

‘You mean evidence about the conspiracy that your Fairfield is involved in?'

‘And what would that be, Jack? Tell me about this
conspiracy
.' His voice leaked sarcasm.

‘To turn England into a fascist state, appease Hitler, betray Poland –'

‘Oh this is bloody ridiculous,' Le Feuvre interrupted. ‘This is getting us nowhere.'

Greaves held up his hand for silence and leant forward again. This time his tone was intimate. ‘Tell me, Jack, I am interested. Who is the bigger threat to the world? Hitler or Stalin?'

I eyed him back. ‘Is that your question?'

‘Indeed. Your answer will tell me a lot.' He waited.

He was toying with me again. Trying to suck me in. He wasn't going to tell me anything useful but by talking, he was hoping I would let something slip.

It was time to end this, even if it did mean a beating. ‘Why don't you ask the Afrikaners?' I paused. Tensed myself. ‘Of course you can't ask them, can you, because you are so
fucking
incompetent, you let them disarm you and get away.'

Clitheroe grabbed my hair and jerked my head back over the chair. Just as I sensed his fist swinging to strike, I heard the door open.

He released his hold as Le Feuvre leapt to his feet. Greaves looked confused.

‘What is going on here?' The familiar voice of the President of the Defence Committee, Philip Tanguy QC, washed over me as he walked towards the desk. ‘I hope you are not harming this young man.'

‘No, sir, but he is being very difficult – refusing to answer questions and –'

‘Never mind that, Inspector. I will speak to you about this later.' He turned to the door. ‘In you come, Aubin.'

My God. They'd arrested my father.

Tanguy was speaking again. ‘Allow me to introduce Sergeant Greaves of the Metropolitan Police – Mr Aubin Renouf.'

My father shook hands with my tormentor. I'd seen this magic handshake before and marvelled how it turned complete strangers into lifelong friends.

My father said, ‘May I have a word outside, Sergeant?'

Le Feuvre smouldered. Obviously, he wasn't one of the brothers.

Tanguy left with the two men. He didn't need to shake hands – his Masonic membership was written all over his patrician face. I tried to listen but, apart from distant voices, could hear nothing.

Minutes later, the door opened and Greaves returned. He sat at the table and looked at me with a ghost of a smile on his face. ‘Well thank you, Jack. You've been most helpful. We won't forget to tell your uncle
how helpful
now that we've found him.'

He stood up and indicated the door. ‘You are free to leave.'

I was about to step through the threshold when he spoke again. ‘Oh, excuse me, I almost forgot. I need to draw your attention to this.' He held up a booklet with a blue cover. ‘It's a copy of the Official Secrets Act 1920. There's a minor amendment going through parliament at the moment but it needn't concern you.'

‘What's this got to do with us?' my father asked.

‘Well, quite a lot actually. I'm sure you don't want me to read you the whole thing but section two, “Communications with foreign agents” and section three, “Interfering with officers of the police” are relevant here. Section eight, “Provisions as to trial and punishment of offences”, will also be of interest.'

‘I'm not going to sign anything. You can't hush this up,' I said.

‘No need. It's already a law. I am just making you aware of it. Signing is irrelevant.' He paused as a thin smile crossed his face. ‘I will be doing the same with all the others as well. Should you reveal any detail to a third party that you have omitted to mention during your interview then you will almost certainly be prosecuted to the full extent of the provisions under this law.'

I absorbed this and was about to respond but my father spoke first. ‘I see. I can understand your wish to cover up this whole episode but what about all the people who wintessed the events at the hotel?'

Greaves shrugged. ‘The law applies to them as well and we have all their names. They will be visited and reminded. And, before you ask, none of this will be reported in your newspapers. The Lieutenant Governor's office will be issuing a D notice to their proprietors.'

My father considered this for a moment then nodded. ‘It makes sense. No point in alarming people. I suppose it's for the best. Thank you, Sergeant. Is there anything else?'

I was about to suggest something when my father tugged me into the corridor.

47

Tanguy marched off and left us.

My father spoke softly. ‘What a bloody awful mess.'

‘Where's Alan?'

‘Shush.' He tugged me away from the door. ‘He's got
nothing
to do with this.
Understand
?'

So he was the shooter and Father was going to help cover up. He'd obviously been very busy already. ‘Where's our section two foreign agent, Uncle Fred?'

My father's voice and expression were deadpan. ‘He was in the hospital having his wrist fixed. He didn't know anyone was looking for him.'

‘What happens now?'

‘We go home. Your mother is very upset.'

I'd get the full story from Alan. It shouldn't be too difficult now that I'd had some interrogation training.

As we passed along the corridor, I couldn't resist peeking through the glass panel in each door. I hoped to see the Germans handcuffed and awaiting their turn with Le Feuvre and the Special Branch bullies. The first room was occupied by a group of honorary policemen talking with Phillips. I hurried on. The second was empty.

The third held Malita and Miko, who was wearing similar overalls to mine. He looked better in shorts. I glanced around the room but there were two uniformed policemen sitting with them. They were in for a long night. I couldn't imagine either of them giving Greaves anything other than a difficult time.

The next room held two women with their backs turned. I gasped in surprise. Rachel and Caroline were talking quietly. They were wearing yellow overalls. I wondered if Caroline was wearing the scratchy underwear. I peered in through the panel. An honorary policeman was staring into space.

The door opened and Saul stuck his nose in my face. ‘I hope your fucking ears are burning. Come in for fuck's sake.' No Shakespearian references to unpick there then. I was pleased. The Bard hadn't been much use really.

My father's grip tightened and he hissed in my ear, ‘Come on. Not now.'

Caroline and Rachel swivelled in their chairs and spotted me. Their faces were level – only inches apart. I had never seen them that close before. They looked at me as though I was a stranger. Perhaps I was.

I shrugged out of my father's grip. ‘Five minutes. Please.'

He let me go.

Saul hauled me in and closed the door. I recognised the honorary policeman – the unfortunate haberdasher from Voisins. He didn't look as though he'd been attacked by Caroline yet. Then she didn't look as though she had the energy to attack anyone at present.

I stumbled in and sat next to them. Saul pulled up another chair. The haberdasher ignored us.

‘Man, where have you been? I've had to listen to these two dissect you piece by piece. I had no idea women could remember so much. Everything, man – every fucking thing you've ever said or done. They don't forget anything.'

‘We can forgive though, Saul, but not if you don't shut up.' Caroline held Rachel's hand. ‘We've been talking, Jack. I know now isn't a good time but –'

‘About me, behind my back?' I didn't want to hear this. ‘Where's your brother?'

‘Gone. They're all gone. It's as though they were never here.'

‘What about your father and your –'

‘They're here somewhere.' She waved her hand to indicate the town hall. They'll be taking me home soon.'

‘Why, Caroline?'

‘Why what?'

‘Your brother. Tell me about your brother.'

She exchanged an intimate look with Rachel.

‘Jack, I'm sorry. I got everything wrong. I thought… you and Rachel… I was jealous. I didn't think I could trust you.' Her cheeks had bright spots in them – she was finding this difficult. I noticed Rachel squeeze her hand. ‘It was infatuation, I suppose. My own silly insecurity.' She exhaled. ‘I asked Rudi to play along, pretend to be an admirer –'

‘She was testing you, Jack.' Rachel spoke mechanically. ‘She wanted Rudi to like you, to –'

‘Approve, I suppose. I don't know what I wanted. You were so confusing, Jack.'

She let go of Rachel's hand. ‘I always thought that you were just, you know… I thought you were really keen on Rachel – do you know how many times you mentioned her name in your letters? Only, I thought you didn't have the courage to tell her.' She swallowed. ‘I thought that if I let you…' She stopped.

I looked quizzically at Rachel. They may have been talking intimately but I didn't think they had been telling each other the truth. I glanced at Saul. He rolled his eyes.

I felt desperately sad. Rachel's eyes were hooded, her face blank.

Saul broke the silence. ‘It's like quick-sand, Jack. Stay out of it. She's told us about Rudi. I could almost feel sorry for the bastard -'