Authors: Laura Wilson
Stratton's War (66 page)
‘Then there was little doubt. I take it his . . . fondness for Ventriss is not reciprocated?’
Diana shook her head. ‘Claude uses it. But he’s loyal to F-J. He’s done . . . things . . . for him.’
‘Sir Neville?’
‘I don’t know. But certainly other things. And F-J telephoned him that afternoon, didn’t he? We heard him. And why was Dr Pyke in the garden? That evening, when I came back to Dolphin Square, it was dark, and—’
‘Wait a minute. You say you went back?’
‘Yes. That afternoon, F-J told me to go home, but to be ready by ten and Rosemary Legge-Brock would collect me in the car.’
‘He told me you were working late.’
Diana shook her head. ‘I went home and came back. Rosemary had a message from F-J that I was to go up to Apse’s flat and fetch some documents. Rosemary told me she’d volunteered to do it, but F-J said they wouldn’t be ready. But there weren’t any papers, Edward, just - him.’
‘Did Colonel Forbes-James say why he wanted you to return to Dolphin Square? Apart from collecting the papers, that is.’
Diana shook her head. ‘I assumed it must be something to do with your meeting with Mr Marks. He gave Rosemary a message for me about Apse not being there, because of him coming back that first time. I think,’ she added, ‘that F-J made me find Apse as a sort of . . . well . . .’
‘Warning?’
‘Yes. I don’t know if he knows that I know about him, but—’
‘He knows I know,’ said Stratton.
Diana’s eyes widened. ‘How?’
‘I told him.’
Diana gasped. ‘Edward, you didn’t!’
‘Not in so many words. But he knows I know. Not that I can prove anything. Neither of us can. That’s why we’ve got to keep quiet about this. Abie Marks is dead, Diana. He was found three days ago, with one of his henchman. Shot. I’m supposed to be investigating, but we won’t find anyone.’
Diana blanched. ‘Claude,’ she said.
‘I don’t know,’ said Stratton. ‘Possibly. It’ll be chalked up as the result of a turf war between rival gangs.’
‘I daren’t ask him,’ said Diana.
‘Ask
Ventriss
?’ Stratton experienced an instantaneous and nauseating jolt of jealousy, and before he had time to check himself he had asked, in the tones of a suspicious husband, ‘Have you been seeing him again?’
Ventriss
?’ Stratton experienced an instantaneous and nauseating jolt of jealousy, and before he had time to check himself he had asked, in the tones of a suspicious husband, ‘Have you been seeing him again?’
Diana blinked, then bowed her head.
‘What about your husband?’
‘Abroad. I can’t bear to think about him.’
‘Are you mad, Diana?’
‘Probably,’ Diana whispered. ‘It’s awful. I don’t know what to do. He wants us to carry on seeing each other. He treats it like a game, and now that I know about F-J’s feelings for him . . . I haven’t told Claude about that, of course,’ she added, hurriedly. ‘I’m not completely insane.’
‘But you’re still in love with him, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am. I can’t help it.’ This was said with an implacable, almost defiant certainty that infuriated him.
‘For God’s sake!’ Stratton exploded. ‘You’ll have to bloody well
try
to help it. He’ll destroy you, Diana. Between the two of them, him and Forbes-James, you haven’t got a chance. You don’t matter to either of them, any more than I do. Can’t you see that?’ Diana, her eyes glistening with tears, nodded.
try
to help it. He’ll destroy you, Diana. Between the two of them, him and Forbes-James, you haven’t got a chance. You don’t matter to either of them, any more than I do. Can’t you see that?’ Diana, her eyes glistening with tears, nodded.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Stratton, more gently. ‘I know I’ve no business . . .’ Impulsively, he reached across the table and took Diana’s hand. She didn’t respond, but neither did she make any move to extract herself. ‘I’m concerned about you, that’s all.’
Diana blinked rapidly for a moment, then withdrew her hand. ‘Don’t be kind to me, or I really shall cry.’
‘All right.’ Stratton attempted a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll try not to be. But,’ he added, unable to stop himself, ‘I can’t help it.’
‘You must.’ Diana attempted a smile. ‘I’m not worth it. As you can see,’ she gave a resigned shrug, ‘a hopeless case.’
‘Ventriss is dangerous. You of all people should know that. He’s playing with fire, and so are you, if you have anything to do with him. Please, Diana,’ he added, desperately, aware that her face was becoming glacial and mask-like. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped the mark. But you did ask to see me, and all I can do is give you my advice.’
Diana continued with the haughty stare for a moment before her face broke up and her mouth began to tremble once more. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, fumbling in her bag and drawing out a handkerchief. ‘I know. And you’re right. I’m sorry, Edward. It’s just that so much of life seems to be about people not telling one things. It’s always because something can’t be mentioned, or isn’t done, or isn’t quite nice, or is unsuitable, or -’ she nodded towards the sign on the wall ‘- like that notice, telling you something doesn’t exist when it does, because it’s bad for morale. There’s always some reason why people can’t say what they really mean. Especially now.’ This was said very quickly, in an attempt, Stratton thought, to beat the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Putting the handkerchief to her face, she said, ‘Oh, dear. NBG again, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, they do say truth is the first casualty of war,’ said Stratton, feeling helpless. ‘But,’ he added, ‘you can help yourself. About Ventriss, I mean. Be careful, Diana. Remember what I said.’
‘Yes.’ Diana dabbed at her eyes again, then produced a compact from her bag and powdered her nose. Stratton, who had hoped for at least some intimation that she wasn’t going to see the bloody man again, felt disappointed, although he knew he had no right to expect any such thing. He was hardly in a position to offer an alternative and besides, they were both married, for God’s sake. Diana shut her compact with a snap and gave him a watery smile. ‘How’s that?’
‘Lovely,’ he said. ‘Beautiful, in fact.’
‘You know,’ said Diana, ‘I really should be going.’
‘I think you’d better go first, then. Just as a precaution.’
‘All right. Here.’ She took out her purse.
Stratton held up his hand to stop her. ‘It may not be much of a treat, but it’s my treat.’
‘Thank you.’ Diana stood up. ‘And thank you for your advice.’
Stratton stood up, too, and they shook hands for what seemed like a long time, but probably wasn’t. ‘Goodbye, Diana. And good luck.’
Diana leant over, and - to the great interest of two elderly charwomen at a nearby table - kissed him on the cheek.
‘I shall never forget you, you know. Goodbye, Edward.’
Stratton watched as she walked between the tables towards the door, but she didn’t look back. He didn’t know if she would, or could, take his advice, but he hoped, just as he hoped he would one day see her again. That was all you could do really, about anything, when you came down to it.
Sighing, he turned round and picked up his cup. Noticing, for the first time, the marks of a previous drinker’s lipstick on the part of the rim nearest to his mouth, and hoping, as he rotated the cup to a clean spot, that Diana had not observed them, he drank the remains of his tea.
A VERY BRIEF NOTE ON HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
Part of the storyline for this book is based on true events, although I have taken some liberties with chronology.
The character of Colonel Forbes-James is based, in part, on the spymaster Charles Maxwell Knight (1900-1968). Knight was recruited to MI5 in 1925, and rose to the position of head of Department B5(b), with responsibility for domestic counter-subversion. The demands of fiction necessitated widening this remit in order to make Forbes-James responsible for agent Claude Ventriss, whose work takes him abroad. It is, however, entirely true that for much of its existence, B5(b) was based at Dolphin Square, London SW1 (though not in Nelson House).
Knight was responsible for the interning of Oswald Mosley, the British Fascist leader, in May 1940, and for uncovering a plot to prevent America’s entry into the war. Author of several crime novels, he is thought to be one of the models used by Ian Fleming for James Bond’s boss, ‘M’.
Agents working for Knight included Tom Driberg, Olga Gray and Joan Miller (who provided a ‘springboard’ for the character of Diana). Miller (1918-1984), an attractive, upper-class girl, successfully infiltrated an anti-semitic organisation known as the Right Club in the early months of 1940. The Right Club - one of many similar organisations, most of which were disbanded or pared down at the start of the war - had originally been set up in May 1939 by Captain Archibald Maule Ramsay MP (1894-1955) on whom the character of Peverell Montague is loosely based.
The aim of the Right Club was to rid the City and Whitehall of Jewish influence and to capitalise on national antipathy towards Jews and Communists. When Britain declared war on Germany on the 3rd of September 1939, Ramsay’s stated aim became the maintenance of ‘an atmosphere in which the “phoney war” might be converted into an honourable negotiated peace’. Members distributed propaganda in the form of adhesive labels and leaflets that bore slogans such as ‘This is a Jew’s war’ and claims that ‘this war was plotted and engineered by Jews for world-power and vengeance’.
In May 1940, Miller’s infiltration resulted in the unmasking of Tyler Kent (1911-1988), a cipher clerk at the US Embassy in London. Kent, like Walter Wymark in this novel, had been passing on copies of secret communications between Roosevelt and Churchill to members of the Right Club in the hope of damaging Roosevelt’s bid for re-election to the Presidency. Kent was charged with obtaining documents that ‘might be directly or indirectly useful to an enemy’ and tried at the Old Bailey in October 1940. He was convicted and sentenced to seven years’ imprisonment. At the end of the war he was released and deported to the US.
Miller was also instrumental in the arrest and detention of Ramsay under Defence Regulation 18B. Ramsay was eventually released in September 1944 and immediately returned to the House of Commons. He did not defend his seat in the election of 1945.
While researching
Stratton’s War
, I consulted dozens of books. Amongst the most helpful were:
One Girl’s War
by Joan Miller (Brandon, 1986),
The Man Who Was M: The Life of Maxwell Knight
by Anthony Masters (Grafton, 1986), and
Debs at War
by Anne De Courcy (Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2005). The Mass Observation Archive at the University of Sussex proved, as it always does, to be an invaluable resource, as did the reference library at the Imperial War Museum.
Stratton’s War
, I consulted dozens of books. Amongst the most helpful were:
One Girl’s War
by Joan Miller (Brandon, 1986),
The Man Who Was M: The Life of Maxwell Knight
by Anthony Masters (Grafton, 1986), and
Debs at War
by Anne De Courcy (Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2005). The Mass Observation Archive at the University of Sussex proved, as it always does, to be an invaluable resource, as did the reference library at the Imperial War Museum.
The church in Eastcastle Street, London W1 is, in fact, Welsh. Its architecture is nothing like the Victorian polychromatic brick described in the text (that belongs to the church of All Saints, in nearby Margaret Street). I have also taken a couple of minor architectural liberties with the buildings at Dolphin Square.
MINI-BIOGRAPHIES OF TED STRATTON AND DIANA CALTHROP
STRATTON, Edward (Ted), Detective Inspector
Born 27 April 1905, the youngest son of William (d. 1934) and Nora (née Clarke) (d. 1911); two brothers, Thomas (d. 1917) and Richard. Ted Stratton married Jennifer Hilda Cooper in 1929 and they have one daughter, Monica June (b. 1930) and one son, Peter Thomas (b. 1932). Stratton was educated at Sandford Parish School, Devon. He joined the Metropolitan Police in 1922, moved to CID in 1929 and by 1937 was a Detective Inspector. Recreations include gardening, nature and the Metropolitan Police Boxing Club. Address: Lansdowne Road, Tottenham, London, or c/o West End Central Police Station, Savile Row, London.
CALTHROP (née Whybrow), Diana Selina, Agent, Security Services
Born 4 March 1916, the daughter of Col. James Charles (d. 1935) and the Hon. Selina (née Monckton) (d. 1935); one brother, Charles Monckton (b. and d. 1914). She was educated at home. Diana married Guy Calthrop in 1935. Recreations include music and dancing. Address: Tite Street, Chelsea, London.
BACKGROUND TO THE CHARACTERS
Stratton’s War
is the first book in a series and, as such, it introduces several characters in whose company I shall be spending a great deal of time over the next few years. Having heard many laments from crime fiction authors who have inadvertently begun a series with their first novel (‘If I’d known I’d still be writing about my central character twenty years later, I wouldn’t have given him a stupid name/missing limb/phobia about buttons’ etc), I was determined to avoid the pitfalls.
is the first book in a series and, as such, it introduces several characters in whose company I shall be spending a great deal of time over the next few years. Having heard many laments from crime fiction authors who have inadvertently begun a series with their first novel (‘If I’d known I’d still be writing about my central character twenty years later, I wouldn’t have given him a stupid name/missing limb/phobia about buttons’ etc), I was determined to avoid the pitfalls.
I decided at the outset that I did not want DI Stratton to be a conventionally flawed crime fiction protagonist. He is neither a drunk, a compulsive gambler nor an adulterer and, to date, his psyche is not marked by past personal tragedy - but nor is he a hero of lonely integrity walking the mean streets or a Dixon of Dock Green-like, salt-of-the-earth embodiment of law and order. He’s an ordinary man with a realistic background for someone who was born in 1905 and joined the police force. Lower middle-class, the son of a tenant farmer, he is an intelligent, humorous individual, but with rudimentary education; he is cynical but kind and humane, and happily married but with a wandering eye. Above all, he is pragmatic. He is well aware that police work, far from being a matter of Sherlockian detection, usually comes down to trapping or coercing people into incriminating themselves and others. At a time when the police were less accountable than they are now, he is ambivalent about the grey area of legalised brutality. He knows that British Justice is not always blind, especially where class is concerned, and he reluctantly accepts this as part of his job.
Other books
Flying the Coop by Ilsa Evans
The Twelve Chairs by Ilya Ilf
Blake's Pursuit by Tina Folsom
An Unlikely Lady by Rachelle Morgan
Oscar's Lonely Christmas by Holly Webb
Bedlam Burning by Geoff Nicholson
Cowboy Girl Annie by Risner, Fay
Tales From New Otrin (The Nomad) by Max Masen
Bite Deep by Rebekah Turner
Home to Caroline by Adera Orfanelli