condensed master

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
by
Will Bonner
Condensed Version

This book is a work of non-fiction. Names and places have been changed
to protect the privacy of all individuals. The events and situations are true.
© 1996, 2000, 2002 by L.W. Bonner. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
ISBN: 0-7596-7490-6
This book is printed on acid free paper.
To eliminate the need for reference, nautical and colloquial terms are kept
to a minimum.
1stBooks - rev. 06/19/02

I dedicate this book to my wife Dorothy.
Her help in guiding me through the many traumas involved in writing it,
was invaluable.
Also to my children Louise and Mark, who have succeeded in living half a
lifetime, without having to experience the suffering, created by war.

Contents
1 The Ferret Man
2 The War Correspondent
3 The Aden Incident
4 The ProposaL
5 Chesapeake Bay
6 Hawaiian Assignment
7 The Surveillance
8 The Phone Tap
9 Nazi Youth
10 Serbs and Croats
11 The Female Connection
12 The Byer Tapes
13 The Safe Cracker
14 Alec’s Misfortune
15 The Final Straw
16 Official Secrets

Will and Dorothy sat overlooking Niagara Falls. It was only a short walk
from where they now lived. Both winter and summer, they had visited the
scene many times. On that day the sun was bright, the sky clear and blue,
an ideal day to relax and talk.
As each year had passed Will was getting more confident that he would
not be contacted again.
Living a double life for over forty years takes its toll, but he was now
getting strong feelings about imparting his past, without the possibility of
threats to his immediate family.
Will looked across at Dorothy. There was no time like the present, so he
started from the beginning. Re-living the past however, proved more
traumatic by the minute, and he found that he could not continue.
Imparting the contents of a lifetime was not going to be easy, and it was
Dorothy's suggestion that he should write down the many incidents that he
had experienced, which could ultimately be read by the family.
As they walked away from the Falls together, Will felt both relief and
added strength now that he had the support of his wife, but how would the
rest of the family react? That would be another story. Sitting down at his
desk Will picked up his pen and started to write.

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Chapter 1
The Ferret Man
Europe was in the grip of World War 2. A convoy lay out at anchor in the
Scottish Firth of the Clyde and the ships, some with barrage balloons flying above
them, to deter low flying enemy air attacks, were all silently awaiting their next
overseas assignment.
The world renowned passenger ship Queen Mary, converted during wartime
to carry troops, had arrived some thirty minutes earlier, it's bow waves now
becoming evident as large ripples, making a splashing noise against the quay and
adjacent banks of the small Clyde side town of Gourock.
Will Brenner sat on a weathered bench overlooking the old cobblestone quay,
observing the scene. He had experienced two voyages carrying troops to the far
east since completing his training, but was presently on standby duty until his leave
became due, in about two weeks time. Each morning he would lower the boat and
steer course a mile or so through the convoy to the quayside and pick up any mail
from the Post Office. The mailbag lay beside him, ready for the return journey.
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Will Bonner
It was a relief to get away from the confinement of the ship for a short period
each day, especially after a long voyage.
The weather was dull but mild, as he looked beyond the ships to the other side
of the Firth. The rolling hills were unusually clear, prompting him to spend time
picking out the detail. His thoughts wandered to the rural countryside, around the
village in England where he was born, and the family still lived. The quietness of
this particular setting was overpowering, serving as an insight to what he would
experience when he finally got home. In contrast, the constant engine noises and
pounding of the sea against the ship were still apparent from the voyage, and Will
knew that it would take a few days ashore to get their effect out of his system.
A chill passed through his body shocking him back to reality, as he became
aware that the wind had suddenly turned colder. A glance over his shoulder at the
old clock on the building across the street, told him that it was time to get back to
the ship.
Picking up the mailbag he walked down the cobblestone incline towards the
security gate. The guard, a thickset middle aged man, wearing seafaring garb,
acknowledged his wave with a nod of his head, indicating that it was okay to go
through. Will had only been stopped on his first day through the gate, after that,
being a regular visitor required only a wave of the hand to enter and exit.
As the engine burst into life Will began to concentrate on the trip back to the
ship. He was on his own and needed all his faculties to navigate safely through the
convoy. On approach, the ship looked deserted, which was usual with only a few
crew members aboard.
After securing the boat he made his way up to the purser's office to deliver the
mail. He encountered no one on the way up, his footsteps echoing through the
empty corridors.
Miles Cavanagh, the assistant purser, was sitting in his cramped office. As Will
approached he made his way to the counter, and stood nervously waiting. He was
a thin, sharp featured individual, his movements quick and jerky, like a squirrel.
Will was always amazed at his ability to type with his two forefingers at machinegun
speed. He rarely smiled and when he did, you had to be quick to catch it.
Dressed impeccably, no matter what time of day, his uniform fitted perfectly.
Precisely pressed and groomed.
In contrast, his superior the purser who was away on leave, was a short, tubby
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
man. His uniform never fitted, always creased with bumps and hollows, where he
had pulled the buttons together. When seen together the crew had a nickname for
them, “before and after” which was taken from an advertisement for slimming.
“You're late Brenner," Miles said, moving from the counter to a desk nearby
and back again, at his usual quick and jerky pace, trying to do two things at the
same time.
"Is there anything for the old man?" he continued, referring to the skipper.
Why did he always ask the same thing, Will thought. The skipper was on leave
with the others, so what if there is mail he can't do anything with it, only stow it
away until the skipper gets back, so why the hurry to know if there is any?
"No sir," replied Will, dropping the bag behind the counter, "there is no
separate mail, and I am not authorized to open the bag." The same remark every
day, what a bore! Miles turned and looked up, Will hesitated in anticipation
becoming aware that he was about to communicate further.
"I have a message from the bridge. Would you get changed out of your work
gear and get up there right away."
"Who wants to see me? What is it all about?"
"I don't know, the instruction was phoned down."
Will made his way down to his cabin filled with curiosity, in all the time he had
been with the ship he had only attended the bridge a few times. His immediate
superior looked after the console up there. What would anyone want with me? he
thought, his mind scanned through the officers left on standby duty, but came up
with no tangible reasons.
He quickly changed into his uniform, but as he started up to the bridge a
horrible thought entered his mind, wondering if anything had happened to his mam
or dad.
The bridge was deserted except for an officer bending over the radar console.
He straightened up and turned as Will entered the bridge house. It was the first
officer in casual uniform, the epaulettes on his shirt indicating the rank. His peaked
cap was pulled well down over his forehead, a rugged faced man, well known for
being impartial, which in the past had gained him the respect of the crew. He
probably wants me to look at the monitor Will thought, stepping closer to where
he was standing.
"Brenner Sir, you wanted to see me?"
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Will Bonner
Taking a well used pipe from his mouth he replied. "No Brenner, there are
people here to see you, they are waiting in the boardroom."
"Very well, Sir." Taken aback, Will turned towards the alleyway leading to the
boardroom, which was tucked away behind the bridge house adjacent to the
captain's quarters. Anticipating the worst, he approached the polished entrance
door, hesitating long enough to try and pull himself together, before knocking.
After a few seconds the door opened, revealing a high ranking army officer
partially blocking his view of the room, but he was aware that there were others
inside.
"Brenner, Sir." The officer stepped aside to let him in, and for the first time
Will was able to get a full picture of the room. It was about 20 ft or so long and
10 to 12 ft wide with portholes on one side. For some reason unknown to Will
at that time, the deadlights had been lowered covering the porthole windows and
curtains drawn over them. A large, heavy looking rectangular mahogany table,
dominated the centre of the room, surrounded by twelve swivel type upholstered
chairs. All the furniture was bolted to the floor which was carpeted in red,
matching the chair seats. The walls were lined with smoothly polished mahogany
panelling. Immediately above the table was a lowered ceiling, containing indirect
lighting, combined with vents for air-conditioning. The lack of natural light in the
room gave the atmosphere a sense of night-time, in contrast to the full daylight of
the bridge.
Three men were sitting at the far end of the table and the officer who had let
him in had now joined them. One of them was also wearing army uniform, the
other naval, all fairly high ranking officers. The uniformed men, appeared at first
sight, to be clean cut and distinguished looking.
The fourth man was wearing plain clothes, the rumpled dark suit highlighting
his soiled shirt collar. Slightly balding, and of small stature, he seemed completely
out of harmony with the rest of the group. One of the officers pointed to a chair at
the opposite end of the table. "Sit down Brenner." Will noticed that they all had
papers positioned in front of them.
His attention was constantly drawn to the little man in plain clothes probably
because he looked so out of place, but there was something more compelling
about him. He had very pointed features, his thinning hair was slicked back,
accentuating the sharpness of his face. He moved his head in short quick
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
movements which gave him a menacing appearance. Will having been brought up
in the country, had no difficulty in putting this man into his own visual category. He
looked just like a ferret and in the absence of a name, to Will he would be "the
ferret man."
The room had by now fallen into silence. Will began to feel the scrutiny of four
pairs of eyes from the other end of the table. He was feeling very uneasy, his
muscles had become tense, and the palms of his hands were beginning to sweat.
The silence became more compelling by the second and after what seemed an
eternity, he just had to break out of it's grip.
"Why have I been asked to come here?" The ferret man responded like
lightning, shouting in a shrill aggressive voice.
"You will answer questions, not ask them!" Will was taken by surprise at his
attitude, but he had no time to respond as they all in turn started to ask a barrage
of questions, punctuated by periods of silence.
As more and more questions followed, Will's mind began to deteriorate to the
point where he had completely lost track of events that were taking place. It
seemed hours since he had first come into the room. His mouth was dry, and his
voice was beginning to get hoarse.
The questioning had now developed into a full blown interrogation, and voices
were raised in a frightening way, causing Will to make contradictions in his
answers. When his memory could not recall what they required, the ferret man
would resort to bullying in an attempt to extract a response. The others were mild
in comparison, especially one of the officers, who was constantly trying to tone
down the verbal attacks.
"You can see that the man is trying to do his best, back off and let him
answer," he would say, but the ferret man would not give up, confirming that Will's
original assessment of him had not been wrong. The vicious killing nature of the
ferret was now beginning to surface.
Will's fear of him was now giving way to resentment and anger. Projecting his
voice directly towards him he shouted the words as loud as his failing voice would
allow. "I refuse to answer any more of your questions until I know why I am here!"
It was as though his words had triggered a bomb. The ferret man leaped to his
feet, his chair spinning round with the force of his movement, and in a split second
he was crouching in front of Will looking down at him, his twisted face pressed so
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Will Bonner
close that Will could feel his hot breath. "You'll do as you're told, or take the
consequences!" he shouted, in that same shrill, menacing voice.
Will slumped down on the table, his arms folded over the back of his head.
The aggressive atmosphere had been so intense that he was expecting blows to be
rained down on him, but none came. Silence descended in the room.
One of the officers stood up and walked over to Will who was still slumped
over the table. Putting his hand on his shoulder, caused Will to recoil instinctively.
"Come with me," he said in a soft voice, proceeding to help him to his feet, then
guiding him to a small door in the corner of the room he continued, "stay in here
for awhile," opening the door to let Will inside, "we'll call you when we are ready,"
and with that parting remark, the door closed behind him.
Will looked around. The room was probably a locker-room, very small, but
completely empty with no windows, dimly lit by one small lamp, giving just enough
light for Will to make out it's confines. He stood shivering from head to toe, a
reaction from the previous encounter. There was no chair to sit on, so Will
lowered himself down into the corner of the room opposite the door, pulling his
knees up to support his body into a sitting position. By now, he felt sick and
mentally exhausted. Lowering his head on to his knees he felt the tears starting to
stream down his face, his shoulders rising and falling, as he sobbed, uncontrollably.
Why are they doing this to me? He just could not comprehend what had taken
place in the other room, both his mind and body were completely shattered, crying
out for rest. After awhile, he let the exhaustion overcome everything, trying to
succumb to the law that nature provides when stress is trying to take over. Things
looked pretty grim to him at that moment.
He suddenly realized that he had not had anything to eat or drink since the
previous day, foregoing breakfast to get ashore. His muscles started to ache and
he slid further along the floor to try and get into a more comfortable position. The
recollection of time began to slip away from him. After an undetermined period,
a loud knocking on the door abruptly interrupted his dazed mind. He recognized
the voice of the ferret man. "Come back in here Brenner."
Will staggered to his feet trying not to stumble as he entered the room,
manoeuvring his way over to the now familiar chair. His eyes were not yet fully
used to the lights of the boardroom, but he was aware that the ferret man was on
his own. Will's heart dropped down to his boots in despair, as he knew that whilst
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
the others were present, there was hope. At least, one of the officers had
appeared sympathetic, but now everything seemed hopeless, with only ferret man
there.
The ferret man was now wearing a trench coat and trilby hat, which in Will's
eyes made him look more menacing than ever. What would happen now? All the
questions had centred around Will's background, his upbringing, family, friends
and activities, practically from the day he was born, up to the present day. He
remembered how violent things had got when he could not remember a part of his
past that they wanted to know. The answer, "I don't know" always provoked
fierce repercussions.
He still had no idea what it was all about. His confidence had been completely
destroyed. The ferret man made a sudden movement causing Will to concentrate
on what he was about to do. Extending his arm, he pointed his finger directly at
Will, shouting. "You have been supplying harbour passes to enemy agents in
Gourock!"
Will was completely and utterly shocked, finding just enough energy to say in
a wavering voice, "No, no, I haven't!"
"Don't lie to me Brenner, we have the evidence to support it." Will was still
struggling with the impact of the accusation. What evidence did they have? he
asked himself, his mind racing out of control.
The ferret man reached into his trench coat pocket, producing a number of
shore passes. “Are these yours?"
Will moved closer to get a better look, recognizing his signature. "Yes, they
are."
The ferret man promptly scooped up the passes, returning them to his pocket.
"You have been deceiving the guard at the gate and keeping the passes to give to
German agents," he continued, "if you don't tell us who they are, we will charge
you with spying for the enemy, and you must know what the penalty is for that!"
Will tried to compose himself so that his answer would not sound false, but he
failed completely, the words tumbled out, "I don't know any agents, and I don't
know what you are talking about!"
The ferret man got up from his chair and walked past him towards the door.
Will guessed that he was about to leave the room, but he was mistaken. A sudden
blow to the back of his head forced him from the chair to his knees followed by
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Will Bonner
a second blow between his shoulder blades, propelling him forward on to his
forearms. His head was swimming but he did not lose consciousness. Turning
slightly, in an effort to get his bearings in anticipation of a further assault, he
became aware of the ferret man's legs only inches away from his face. Rage, and
the instinct for survival surged up inside as Will quickly gripped ferret man around
the legs, toppling him to the floor. Within seconds, they were both rolling over,
each trying to gain the advantage.
"You bloody swine, I'll kill you!" screamed Will, as he tried to use ferret man's
head as a battering ram against the iron leg of the table, but ferret man brought up
his knee into Will's stomach, breaking himself free. In the next moment Will found
himself looking down the barrel of a semi automatic service pistol, which seemed
to appear from nowhere. For a split second he contemplated retaliation, but
sensing his intention ferret man pushed the gun closer as a warning sign, and Will
backed off.
The pistol pointed briefly to Will's chair. "Get over there." Will staggered over
to the chair feeling the back of his head for signs of blood. The ferret man was also
reseated, the service pistol on the table in front of him, at the ready. He had lost
his hat in the scuffle, his hair and clothes were dishevelled, his tie askew. He was
breathing fast and heavy.
"We'll now get to the bottom of this," he said, pausing to catch his breath.
"Yesterday, when you were going ashore, up the incline to the gatehouse, you
dropped your wallet and shore passes fell out on the roadway. Someone picked
them up for you, didn't they?"
"Yes," replied Will in a wavering voice.
"Well, that person was one of our agents, he kept some of them for evidence."
This last statement was, in an odd sort of way, a breath of fresh air to Will. He
remembered the incident well. At last, some of the events of these last hours were
falling into place. All he had to do now was convince them that he had become
friendly with the guard at the gate, who had failed to take the passes, consequently,
they had collected in his wallet. This nightmare would then be all over.
The ferret man had by now regained his composure, and he was beginning to
posture himself for further interrogating. Will braced himself for more punishment,
but at that very moment the door opened, revealing the two army officers entering
the room. Ferret man snatched up his pistol, but not before they had noticed it.
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Both exchanged glances and ferret man, picking up his hat without a word, walked
out of the room, banging the door behind him.
The officers were fully dressed for travelling, it was apparent they were not
intending to stay as they did not remove their coats. One officer spoke. "Are you
alright Brenner?"
"Yes Sir."
"I suppose you have been wondering what this has been all about?" he
continued, "we know that there are four enemy agents operating in the area. They
try to get information about troop movements to the convoys. There has been a
breach in security recently, so when the incident of your passes became known,
British Intelligence thought they had found the leak. The whole case has now been
investigated, there are no grounds to indicate that you are involved, consequently,
you are free to go."
Will felt the relief beginning to surge up inside. Grappling once again with the
complete turn of events he sat motionless, trying to dispel the disbelief that he was
also feeling. This has got to be some sort of trick! "Perhaps you should get yourself
something to eat Brenner?"
Will pulled himself together. No it’s not a trick they were telling him the truth!
“Yes Sir.” And with that he stood up and moved towards the door,
momentarily turning to face the officer. “Thank you, Sir.”
Once outside, Will felt the urge to run as fast as he could to his cabin, but he
restrained himself. As he skipped down the first stairway, the relief from his ordeal
was gaining ground. Turning the corner to gain access to "C" deck he was
abruptly confronted by the ferret man standing only a few feet away, who had
obviously been waiting for him. Will stopped in his stride, the relief he had
momentarily gained drained away from him as the ferret man moved closer.
The corridors were deserted and dimly lit. He was expecting the worst, and
clenching his fists, postured himself in anticipation. Looking at Will he snarled.
"Don't think you have got away with it, we can charge you with spying anytime we
want. There's enough evidence to implicate you. The military have let you off the
hook, but we haven't, never forget that." With that devastating final remark he
disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, towards the aft stairway.
Will lay on his bunk. Glancing at the clock he realized that it had been about
fourteen hours since going up to the bridge. His stomach had passed the urge for
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Will Bonner
food so he just lay there trying to evaluate what had happened.
His cabin mates were all on leave. Thank heavens for that! He could not have
coped with the social chatter, someone would have surely awakened to ask the
obvious questions. No names had been given of his interrogators, he only knew
that they were from both Military and British Intelligence. He had been left with no
fear of the military, but the ferret man's departing words were still ringing in his
ears.
What if they did decide to bring charges? What if it became public? His family
would be humiliated, especially his dad. The whole village would isolate them and
Will shuddered at the thought. He'd done nothing wrong, but this seemed of little
consequence. The why's and wherefore's continued to buzz around in his brain as
he began to feel the aches and pains of his physical encounter with the ferret man.
The silence of the cabin finally took over lulling him into a troubled sleep.
"Wake up Will, wake up!" It was Blondie Bishop, the medical orderly from
the dispensary. "You've overslept and the assistant purser is going crazy up there!"
Will opened his eyes and looked up from the lower bunk at Blondie's white hair
and moustache. He was shaking him by the shoulder, and the movement was
creating pains in his upper body, resulting from the blows he had received the night
before.
"Where were you last night? Nobody could find you, why have you slept in
your uniform?"
Will was in no mood for questions and using the urgency of the moment to
avoid answering, he pushed past Blondie to change into his work gear. He took
off as fast as his delicate condition would allow, leaving Blondie standing with a
blank look on his face. He was used to Blondie's persistent way until he got
answers, and Will knew that would not be the end of it, but he would be ready for
him next time he asked.
"Where the hell have you been Brenner?" Miles Cavanagh the assistant purser,
was obviously upset.
"Sorry Sir, I overslept."
Miles dismissed the excuse. "You haven't shaved and you're dressed like a
sack of potatoes. Get yourself together man!"
"Sorry Sir, I'll get the boat underway immediately," but as he was walking
away from the counter it dawned on him that he had no shore passes. He had been
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
given enough to use until yesterday, but he now needed more.
Turning back to the counter, the events of the previous night came flooding
back into his conscious mind. Miles was still out front bending over some papers
on the counter. "What now, Brenner?" he asked impatiently.
"I need more shore passes, Sir."
"There has been a change of instruction Brenner, I can only issue one pass
each day." His head was moving up and down as he appeared to be trying to read
the papers on the counter, at the same time as date stamping the pass. Will looked
directly at his face, listening intently to his voice, trying to get a hint of whether or
not he knew anything about the previous day's incident, but there was no
indication. Picking up the pass he turned to leave.
"What's the matter with you man, can't I rely on you to do your job? You
haven't signed the pass in my presence!" Miles roared. "Probably ashore half the
night!" Will hurriedly signed the pass on both sections, but at the same time
analyzing his last remark, which had given him the impression that probably Miles
Cavanagh did not know the real reason why his pass instruction had been
changed. Will felt much better.
He pushed the boat to it’s limit on his way ashore trying to make up a bit of
time, but nine knots was the maximum speed and he finished up not making much
headway. As usual, there was very little activity on the quayside as he tied the
boat up to a bollard. It had started to rain slightly, prompting him to pull up his
collar as he made his way up the cobbled incline.
Passing the spot where his passes had fallen out of his wallet his heart began
to pound. He was terrified at the thought of meeting the guard at the gatehouse
knowing he also would have been interrogated. The customary wave would not
be given, or received. His fears were short lived however, and he became aware
that there was a new man in the gatehouse. Giving up the outgoing portion of his
pass he made his way up to the level of the street. Pausing before turning toward
the Post Office, he scanned the street in both directions.
What was he looking for? Was he being watched? There was no sign of the
agent that had helped him gather up the contents of his wallet. Everything
appeared normal, but wasn’t that usually the case? Trying to shrug off the anxious
thoughts that came over him, Will went about his daily routine.
During the remainder of his stay at Gourock and on later visits when the
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Will Bonner
convoy returned, the absence of the thickset man at the gatehouse would confirm
his suspicion that he had been permanently removed, and he would never know
the true circumstances.
--- 20 ---

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Chapter 2
The War Correspondent
Will sat in the swaying carriage of the passenger train, heading back to
Gourock and the convoy to begin another foreign voyage. The elements of his last
two weeks at home constantly in the forefront of his mind. The absence of routine,
and the presence of his family a heaven sent respite. The tranquility of rural
settings around his home a perfect environment to lose the rigors of the immediate
past.
As the train drew closer to it’s destination the pictures of his steel clad cabin
on the ship clashed with the serene quietness of his bedroom at home, forcing him
back to the reality of what was to come.
During his leave all the troops had embarked, the between decks were
crammed with their presence. Hammocks swung from the deckheads by the
hundreds, and the noise of everyone getting organized was deafening. Once at
sea, all this would settle down, it’s absence replaced by the noise of the sea.
Will could not yet see land, but he knew that they were getting close to
Gibraltar. Apart from the tempering of the seas, apparatus called paravanes, on
long wires, had been lowered from the leading ships, used to cut free any enemy
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Will Bonner
mines that were just below the surface of the water. Once cut, they would bob to
the surface and were then exploded, or sunk by gunfire. They were large metal
spherical objects, with glass horns, protruding from around the sphere which,
when broken, triggered the mine to explode.
The period in the Atlantic had been rough, in more ways than just the weather.
There had been attempted attacks by German U-boats and many depth charges
had been dropped by the destroyers to protect the convoy, but no ships had been
lost.
Will was beginning to enjoy the first day of calm weather, especially looking
forward to eating full meals again without being sick. It was good to see land as
the ships sailed through the Straits and into the Mediterranean. They would be
going on to Algiers, expecting to drop anchor there during late afternoon on the
following day.
During the run-up to anchorage, Will spent his off duty hours basking in the
bright sunshine. Temperatures were in the seventies and he was feeling once again
one hundred per cent. During the course of the early afternoon, Wesley Brampton
the bosun's mate, called in to see him. Will had known him for some time now, an
older man around 35 to 40 years old. They got along well together, and during
Will's early days at sea, he found that he could rely on his advice, but my
goodness, was he thin!
To be perfectly blunt he was just a "bag of bones" and as he walked, his bones
moved in every direction at the same time. If you were passing him in the corridor
you had to watch out for his sharp elbows. He was the perfect illustration of a
Samurai warrior, wielding two swords!
At sea, just about everyone had a nickname, usually aligned to their name,
character, place of origin, physical characteristics, or other obvious signs. Wes
was a wonderful candidate but he had not been allotted one, and the reason was
because he was so well respected. He was well read and could converse
intellectually on many subjects, and had made up his mind where his future lay after
the war was over, always studying to reinforce that ambition.
Wes removed the old down swept pipe from his mouth. "One of my mates
is on the "Orangi" he said, referring to one of the other ships lying out in the
convoy, "and we've arranged a boat to go over there when we anchor. Would
you like to come?"
22

23
The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
"I sure would Wes, it will be a change of scene for me, I'll look forward to
that."
"I thought so. Just be on "D" deck by the gun port door, about one hour after
we anchor."
No one was allowed ashore in Algiers, so the trip across to visit another ship
was a pleasant surprise. The uninitiated would tend to think that one ship would
be just like another, but that is far from the truth. Even sister ships develop their
own individual attributes and peculiarities, consequently, Will was eager to look
the ship over.
It was a superb evening as the boat traveled between the ships, and everyone
was in high spirits. Will looked across the harbour to the old stone-walled buildings
that looked so tightly packed together. From that distance, it appeared as if no
roadways existed, with the afternoon sun making everything crystal clear. It
seemed an eternity since he was at home on leave and it crossed his mind how he
would have loved his mother to be with him right at that moment, just to see the
sight.
Once on board the "Orangi" Wes made his way to the deck where he knew
everyone would be gathered. He had served on this ship before so he knew his
way around. The boat party soon merged into the crowd as men got reacquainted.
Will stood back out of the way next to the entrance, observing the scene.
Groups of seamen were seated at tables playing various games, or just chatting.
The noise level was deafening, with an occasional round of raucous laughter.
Finding a seat nearby Will settled down to enjoy the evening, until Wes and the
others were ready to return to their ship.
After awhile he became conscious of someone staring at him very intently from
a nearby table, where a card game was in progress. He was a gaunt faced man
who Will instantly recognized, also the person sitting next to him.
Whilst on standby duty about a year ago, in Victoria docks in London, he had
been given the responsibility of supervising them both for the day, loading medical
stores. They were homosexuals and using the term of that era "really bent" What
a day that had been, especially during the loading of the mattresses. Did they ever
have fun and games! Will was constantly reprimanding them, but being the types
they were, the more aggressive Will became, the more they enjoyed it.
"Don't I know you?" he called out, in a high pitched female like voice, which

Will Bonner
only served to direct everyone in the near vicinity to look in Will's direction. "I'm
sure we've met, haven't we Richard?" he said, turning to his friend.
Will got up from his chair and stepped back in obvious embarrassment. "No,
I think you must be mistaken," he replied, trying to disappear into the background.
Everyone around was by then having a good laugh at Will's expense.
A big deep voice from within the crowd yelled, "Don't be frightened youngster,
they won't hurt you!" bringing more laughter from all around, including the
homosexuals, who seemed to have also joined in the fun, but by this time Will had
managed to get relocated out of earshot.
What a relief Will thought, settling down once again to watch the games being
played from the other side of the room.
Glancing into an alleyway entrance nearby, he noticed a man standing partly
in the shadows. Thinking that he was about to enter Will stepped aside to give him
plenty of room, but he stayed motionless. Turning in the man's direction Will was
about to ask him if he needed to come in when he spoke in a soft, but audible
voice.
"You're Will Brenner, aren't you?"
"Yes," Will replied, moving closer to the entrance.
"I've been waiting for an opportunity to see you. Step in here out of the noise,
I can't hear you very well."
Stepping into the partially lit alleyway Will immediately recognized him as one
of the men on the boat journey across the harbour from his ship. Sensibly dressed
for the climate in light grey cotton trousers and shirt, he was a medium-size man
around 30 years old, slightly on the plump side, with puffy cheeks like a trumpet
player.
The alleyway was not very well ventilated and patches of sweat had appeared
around his armpits and neck. Furtively looking past Will, and then in the opposite
direction, he appeared to be checking that they were alone. Will was about to
engage him in conversation to find out more about him, but he was cut short.
"You were in a spot of trouble in Gourock."
Will froze. "What are you trying to tell me?"
"It's now time for you to do something for us."
The ferret man's last words came flooding back to him and suddenly the whole
atmosphere between the two men changed. Unable to cope at that particular
24

25
The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
moment and frightened of the outcome of the conversation Will turned to leave, but
felt the man's sweaty hand take him by the arm.
"I wouldn't go if I were you, with what you've got hanging over your head."
Will hesitated and turned back, he could see the tension on his face which was
not there before, and the fear of reprisals became foremost in his mind. All the
activity around him had disappeared into the background and to Will, only the man
opposite him existed. "What do you want?"
"Something very simple. Sorry to threaten you but I had to do it for your own
good." He seemed positively apologetic.
"What will happen if I refuse?"
"I'm leaving the ship to join another one at Port Said in three days time, and
I would have to make arrangements to have you taken off."
The finality of his last statement served to break down the last of Will's
resistance. He had nowhere else to turn.
"Well, I guess if it's something very simple." said Will, in a hesitant voice.
The man leaned forward. "You will receive a small package in the mail when
you arrive in Port Said, it is vital that it is delivered by hand to someone in Aden."
"Why me?"
"Please don't ask any more questions. As a crew member ashore for the
sights, your presence anywhere will not be suspect. Go to the entrance of the
Queen of Sheba's Wells during the afternoon on any day, and someone will
contact you by name. That person will take you to a location to deliver the parcel.
Keep it on your person at all times until you pass it on to someone that asks for it.
It is small enough to put in your pocket, but do not open it. Afterwards get the
normal tourist transport back to the ship."
"Is that all?”
"Yes, it's straightforward so don't write anything down."
The stress of the moment subsided and the activity in the adjoining room was
once more evident.
"Will, Will, are you around?" It was Wes calling him from across the room.
"Yes, I'm here," he answered, hurrying to make his whereabouts known.
"We're ready to go back now, are you all set?"
"Yes, ready to go Wes."
On the way back to the ship the man in grey kept to himself, and as it was now

Will Bonner
dark Will had no difficulty in avoiding him.
The following day the convoy got under way and during his off duty period in
the morning Will went up on the aft deck. The wake of the ship was leaving a
wide ribbon of turbulence for quite a distance in the calm sea, and it was easy to
detect any change in the ship's direction.
Will always came up here to concentrate, the wake acted as a form of
hypnosis shutting out other activities, allowing him to think more clearly. He was
sorting out the severity, or otherwise, of the previous night's encounter, coming
finally to the conclusion that things were not as bad as he had first thought, and he
could cope with what was expected of him.
"What are you doing up here?" It was Wes. "You look so serious, is
everything alright? Have you had mail from home?"
His last statement was a typical inference. When the mail was handed out men
used to disappear to their own private hideaways to read the news from home,
rushing back to tell if it was good, or spending time alone to cope with the bad.
Will had seen men on occasions, hiding under lifeboats and elsewhere, in tears
after getting bad news. Thanks Wes, he thought, for reminding me that there are
others worse off than myself. I'm still alive and the family back home are still
okay.
Will suddenly experienced the overwhelming desire to tell Wes about his
problems but everything seemed too complicated, and the ramifications too diverse
to cope with at that time.
"Everything's fine Wes, I'm just sitting here resting, watching the wake. It's just
plain hypnotic, and you can see how easy it would be if you were sitting on the aft
rail to lean and drop overboard." Troops were warned not to sit on the ship's rails
at night for this very reason, and some had fallen in and drowned on Will's
previous voyage.
"Let's talk about more pleasant things." Sitting down next to Will he began to
talk. "Did you have a good time last night?"
"Yes, I was talking to that man in the grey trousers. Do you know who he is?"
"I thought you knew. He's a war correspondent for one of the newspapers,
they come and go on the ships to get news back to England. Didn't he tell you
who he was?"
"No, we didn't get around to that."
26

27
The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
They carried on talking for awhile and Will began to feel good about things
again. Wes was like a port in a storm to him at this time, and life was to become
more normal until the forthcoming event in Aden. Thanks to Wes, Will now
regarded that as just another day.
Thirty-six hours after leaving Algiers enemy aircraft were sighted approaching
the convoy. Will was in his cabin when the alarms sounded, but before dropping
the deadlight over the cabin porthole he looked across the blue water into the
distance to see what appeared to be a swarm of bees hovering over the horizon.
Calculating that they would only be about 20 to 25 miles away, Will quickly
slipped on his life jacket and ran up to his emergency station.
Arriving on deck anti-aircraft fire had started, the sky already filled with puffs
of black smoke as the shells exploded. Rumours were rife regarding the origins of
the attack, but it was soon confirmed that they were planes from the Italian Air
Force. With this information everyone began to relax.
Benito Mussolini, the Italian dictator, had involved Italy in the war on the side
of Hitler's Germany, but Italy was not a fighting nation, especially with the Nazis,
who were constantly humiliating them. Lacking the reason to fight, men would
literally surrender their arms when under attack. Will had an occasion to transport
them as prisoners back to England, feeling genuinely sorry for their misplaced
plight.
The aircraft could be seen quite clearly now, but flying at a high altitude. Loud
cheering broke out as they all dropped their bombs some two or three miles away
from the convoy and turning sharply, headed north in the direction of Italy or
Greece. That was a relief everybody thought, but suddenly tension rose again, as
a lone aircraft appeared, flying at masthead height towards the convoy.
Being so low in the sky the guns could not be brought to bear in fear of hitting
a neighbouring ship. Will stood watching as the plane proceeded through the
convoy dropping bombs as it went. Passing abreast of Will's ship he could clearly
see the markings on it's side and wings, and the head of the pilot. He would never
forget the noise of the plane's engine, likening it to that of a motorcycle.
Not one bomb found a target, only leaving a trail of water spouts between the
ships as they exploded. Someone shouted from a gun turret. "What's that bloody
fool doing?” another gunner responded. "Look astern, he's about to commit
suicide!"

Will Bonner
Will looked astern to see that a destroyer had turned it's beam to the oncoming
plane, and as it left the convoy, a violent blast of anti-aircraft gun fire ensued, the
plane disintegrating into fragments which fell into the sea like confetti. Loud
cheering broke out once again but Will felt sickened by the whole affair. What a
stupid waste. It had just been a spectacle.
The all clear sounded within minutes, signalling that the crew could leave their
emergency stations. As a rule, these incidents were sporadic, so no further attacks
were predicted in the near future. Everyone relaxed to resume their normal duties,
and there would be plenty of discussion amongst the crew about the attack, during
the remainder of the day.
Arriving in Port Said, Will had not seen the war correspondent since leaving
Algiers, probably because he had quartered with the officers. No doubt by now
he would be ashore, waiting for another ship.
The parcel arrived, as arranged. It was a small package with a sealed brown
paper covering addressed to Will, but not stamped, and about the size of a
cigarette package. He shook it, but nothing rattled inside. Placing it in his
pocket he knew that it would be a constant reminder to him of the circumstances
surrounding it’s arrival.
Ships were making their own way from Port Said to Aden as there was no
concerns about enemy aircraft or submarines. They would all reassemble again
at Aden before crossing the Indian Ocean to Bombay. The one hundred mile
journey down the Suez Canal was always interesting. The common sight that
never failed to capture Will’s imagination was that of a ship ahead which had
followed a bend in the canal. Viewed from across the sand dunes gave it the
pseudo appearance of steaming across the desert!
The four or five days journey down the Red Sea was typical. With desert on
all sides the searing heat was unbearable, any breeze after passing over the hot
sand resembled the output from a hot air dryer.
Will felt for the troops as he did during the fierce weather in the Atlantic.
Coming from the mild English weather they were totally unprepared for the
relentless heat. The short stay in Aden would at least, give them some respite.
28

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Chapter 3
The Aden Incident
Will arrived in Aden full of apprehension. He would get the package delivered
at the first opportunity that presented itself. It had, so to speak, been burning a
hole in his pocket since coming into his possession in Port Said.
Looking at the roster dealt him a stunning blow, he was scheduled to be on
mid-day watches for the next two days, which would prevent him from making the
necessary contact at the Queen of Sheba's Wells. What a fool he had been for
taking the roster for granted. Minor panic was beginning to set in and he wandered
the deck wondering what to do next. They will have me for sure if I don't deliver
that package! What reason could he give wanting so desperately, for someone to
take over his watch? I'd better be quick, the schedules are new and could
probably be changed without causing any conflict.
Will ran forward to see Wes, the only person he knew with enough influence
to get the changes made. He needed the next two days clear between 12 noon and
12 midnight to be certain that the job would be done, and he would give it a try
tomorrow. What could he say to Wes? Lying to him was something he never
29

Will Bonner
envisaged, and he hated the very thought of doing it, but how else would he get
around it?
He was amazed at the speed a devious mind could come up with excuses. In
seconds, he remembered how he once met a local radio operator (ham) in Aden,
on a previous voyage. That would be his excuse for wanting a change in schedule.
What a relief!
Will burst into Wes's cabin finding him sitting on his bunk.
"What's the hurry Will? Sit down and catch your breath."
"Could you do me a favour Wes?"
"You know I will, if I can."
"I need the schedules changed so that I get the two mid-day watches off for
the next two days. I will do any other watch or anything else for that matter, it's
important to me."
"Is that all?" Wes remarked nonchalantly, as though it was just a formality. "I'll
see the first officer and get it changed right now as a matter of fact," and without
another word Will watched him manipulate his bony body up the stairway towards
the bridge.
Will leaned for a moment against the handrail of the stairway and bowed his
head. Wes hadn't even asked him why he wanted the change of roster, and he felt
both elated for not having to lie, yet at the same time, admitting to himself that he
had used a friend. He felt bad about that. Should Wes ever ask he would have
to take a risk and tell him the truth, in a way that hopefully, would not compromise
him. Returning to his cabin he started to prepare for the following day.
Will awoke to start his early watch. Wes had succeeded in making the
changes, relieving him of duty at 8 a.m. with plenty of time to get ashore. He
intended to get up to the Queen of Sheba's Wells around mid afternoon.
It had been a hot night without an iota of breeze, and the sun was getting up
to kick the temperature over the century mark. He would stay on board for lunch
instead of eating ashore. In the past Will, like many others, had picked up stomach
bugs from eating in foreign ports, so he only ate ashore when there was no other
option, and never in the back street cafes.
What a good feeling it was to have solid ground under his feet again, just the
act of walking ashore was a boost to the ego after the endless day to day routine
on the ship. The smells, emanating through the intense heat greeted him as he
30

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
walked across the harbour front into the town.
He had an hour to spare, so he made his way into the centre to look through
the bazaar. These foreign ports were notorious for pick-pocketing, just about
everyone you knew had been "relieved" of something at one time or another. His
hand, which had been constantly in his pocket since leaving Port Said, gripped the
package more firmly. It would be a disaster to lose it at this critical time.
The activity in the bazaar had subsided somewhat, as was customary in the
middle of the day when the sun was as it's highest. It would start to spring to life
again around 4 or 5 p.m. getting busier during the cooler part of the evening. In
contrast to the dull austerity of wartime Britain, the bazaars had a distinct carnival
atmosphere.
Will looked at his watch. He had better get started, although it was only a few
minutes walk to the town square where he would get transport up to the Queen
of Sheba's Wells. There would be plenty of gharrys' - an open horse drawn landau
type of vehicle, which were popular with the tourists.
As he rounded the corner he was not disappointed, they were all lined up
around the square, ready for him to take his pick. As he approached, the usual
fight broke out between the drivers to get his business, and he had prepared
himself to be pulled and pushed in all directions until a particular driver won out.
With a wide beaming smile showing his stained and decaying teeth, the winner
bowed and with a sweeping gesture of his arm, like an actor on the stage taking
his final curtain, he directed Will into the well worn leather upholstered seat,
adorned with faded seat cushions.
Will sat precariously on the edge of the seat, trying not to make too much
body contact with the cushions, thereby giving the fleas the opportunity of a new
host, but the possibility of surviving even this short journey without picking one up,
would be a miracle.
By now, the heat was practically unbearable, the sweat was running in rivulets
down his body and legs, causing the dust thrown up by the movement of the
carriage to adhere to his skin and clothing. He was beginning to feel dirty and
bedraggled, and for this reason had not dressed in his usual shore going tropical
whites, but instead had remained in his work clothes.
He was still gripping the package in his trouser pocket which was now
saturated with sweat. Reluctantly, he transferred it to his shirt pocket. It would not
31

Will Bonner
be long before he would be relieved of it's demanding presence.
His driver was taking the well known route to the Queen of Sheba's Wells and
he recognized the land marks, estimating that they would arrive in about fifteen
minutes. This was a rocky, dusty, bare land, and the rest of the journey would not
be very scenic.
The absence of people, the majority of whom were taking a mid-day rest,
took even more away from the surroundings that now lacked the movement of life.
Sliding over to one side of the carriage to try and get a breeze no matter how
small, Will leaned forward to see the old horse swaying from side to side between
the shafts. Poor thing, it had seen better days!
The Queen of Sheba's Wells were situated in a group of hills, the approach
being noticeable by the incline of the road. Feeling the pull on the carriage, the
horse began to slow down, and the driver started to use the whip. You cruel sod,
Will thought, but restrained himself, he just had to keep out of trouble. He
remembered the incident when he wrestled the whip from a gharry driver in India
who was maltreating his horse, whipping the driver with it, and consequently found
himself in trouble with the law.
Arriving at his destination, Will paid the driver and stepped out into the
approaches to the entrance of the Queen of Sheba's Wells. There were a few
people about, some of them servicemen seeing the sights. Will scanned the
immediate area, looking for someone that might fit the possible description of a
man whose picture he had fabricated in his mind. No one appeared to fall into the
category. Glancing at his watch he concluded that his contact would probably still
be at mid-day rest. If he waited there, where he was right now, he would be
pestered by Adenese guides, beggars, etc. so it was best to keep moving.
What if the contact failed to turn up? His stomach turned over at the thought.
He would have no other option than to have a final try tomorrow, with no time to
spare if things went wrong. Walking around the perimeter of the entrance he
practiced the appearance of observing the sights, but there was very little to see
and he felt as conspicuous as a goldfish in a bowl.
The ticket office personnel were constantly looking his way, no doubt hoping
that he would make up his mind to go in, and he was just getting to the point where
he thought he would have to buy a ticket when a battered old taxi, with Arabic
writing on the doors circled, passing Will in front of the entrance before stopping.
32

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
He could see movement inside the cab, associated with the grinding of gears,
prior to the taxi reversing back to where he was standing. The door opened and
leaning half out of the vehicle was a tiny individual, dressed in an early 1900's suit,
with as many holes and tears as it's years. His facial structure was typical of the
population from this part of the world, with a mop of greasy hair falling around his
dirty shirt collar. Beaming, he waved his small stubby fingered hand and spoke in
broken English. "Get in the back please Sir."
Will became suspicious, they did say he would be contacted by name, but here
was someone probably trying to con him into a tour of some kind.
"No, I'm waiting for someone."
"Yes, you are waiting for me," pointing to his chest.
"No I’m not."
This is getting embarrassing thought Will, I'd better be firm, so he continued,
"and if you pester me any more I shall call the police." The man's face took on a
puzzled look, then, as though someone had turned a light switch on inside his head,
his face beamed once again.
"Oh, are you Mr. Broomer?"
To Will, that is what the name sounded like, so he replied, "No, it's Brenner."
The little man's face beamed even more. "Yes, yes, that's it, I must take you
to see someone!"
All Will's preconceived ideas about the contact disappeared into thin air. This
was unbelievable!
Getting into the back seat he looked around at the inside of the car, words
could not describe it's condition, but it closely resembled the little man's suit. In
addition, there was a mouldy smell emanating from the upholstery, which was not
at all pleasant.
The car turned and proceeded to rattle it's way up the hill, past the Queen of
Sheba's Wells at breakneck speed. Eastern drivers invariably adhered to three
rules. Foot flat down on the accelerator, hard down on the brake, or on two
wheels around the corners. Will gripped the back of the front seat to prevent
being buffeted from side to side, and looking over into the front observed the man
who was sitting on two cushions, which just managed to give him enough height to
peer through the windshield.
All the foot pedals had crude blocks of wood attached to allow his short,
33

Will Bonner
stumpy legs to operate them. The countryside was hurtling by making it difficult to
recognize, but at one stage Will thought he saw a familiar building, but concluded
that he was probably mistaken.
Will shouted over the noise of the vehicle. "How much farther to go?" The man
turned causing the car to swerve towards the side of the road. The steering was
so bad, it took several seconds to get it back under control again.
"Just a few more minutes," he shouted, and to Will's relief the car slowed down
to manoeuvre into a dirt road, towards a few houses, and pulling up in a cloud of
dust in front of one of them. The man got out gesturing for Will to follow. Walking
up the verandah steps they approached the front door.
The house was of typical middle east structure, appearing to be in the upper
bracket range. It was one of three in an area that appeared isolated. Turning to
look back, Will noted they were about a quarter of a mile from the main road,
which seemed deserted at that time.
I wonder how I'm going to get back? Will pondered. The little taxi man was
probably hired for that, so he dismissed the thought from his mind. During this time
the little man had been impatiently knocking on the door which eventually opened,
revealing a man with a badly pock-marked face, dressed in a Arabic fez and white
gown.
He spoke fiercely in Arabic to the little man. He's telling him off for banging
too hard on the door, Will thought. Money changed hands and the little man,
beaming once again at Will, took his final bow before proceeding to his taxi, which
sped away engulfed in a cloud of dust.
After the noisy drive up from the Queen of Sheba's Wells, Will immediately
became aware of the silence which was creating an awkward moment for him, not
knowing how to handle the situation from here on. The man beckoned him inside
without saying a word.
He doesn't speak English Will concluded, following him into a dim
passageway, its walls lined with individually designed carpets in the form of murals.
The usual smell of the East wafted through the air, rising and falling in intensity as
they went further into the building.
Will was beginning to realize that the house was much bigger than his first
assessment. Several rooms branched off from left to right, but they were heading
towards the end of the corridor which opened out into what appeared to be quite
34

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
a large reception area. The smooth stone floor and walls gave a feeling of
coolness, in contrast to the heat outside. Carved wooden seats were placed
against three of the walls, and a rectangular table of similar design, positioned in
the centre of the room, supported a large coloured eastern vase. His guide
stopped and pointed to one of the seats, indicating that Will should sit and wait.
The large door opposite was half open, revealing a room well lit with natural
light. Will was suddenly aware that his guide was no longer in the room, and a
feeling of apprehension came over him as he waited, wondering what was to
happen next. The room was deathly quiet, reminding him of the small stone walled
vestry, in his church back home.
During the last few hours events had been testing his ability to cope, and the
next incident may be no exception. A faint rustling could be heard coming from the
room, but he could not distinguish whether it was human or animal. Concentrating
on that part of the room visible through the open door, there were noticeable
changes in the light and dark of the shadows. There was definitely someone inside.
The still air was abruptly disturbed by the sound of a chair being dragged
across the floor followed by footsteps, and within seconds a man appeared in the
doorway stepping into full view on the opposite side of the table.
Will stood up looking directly across the room at the person he was obviously
intended to meet, but could not believe his eyes. The two men remained motionless
for a few more seconds looking at each other, which was enough time to confirm
that it was a man he had met in Aden, on a previous voyage.
They had both moved simultaneously to get around the table, and Will
extended his hand. "I have met you before, you have a radio shop in Aden, forgive
me, but I have forgotten your name." By this time the men were face to face, and
his host was obviously taken aback by Will's remark.
In perfect Oxford English he replied. "I believe we have. Please call me Omah,
come in and sit down." Will followed him inside.
A large old desk monopolized the centre of the room, with sundry pieces of
small furniture and tables placed on scatter rugs around the perimeter. Oil paintings
adorned two of the walls, on the third a glass gun cabinet containing several
antique pistols. A six bladed fan was faintly whirring in the centre of the tall ceiling,
from which Will could feel the cool changes of air as they passed over his sweating
body.
35

Will Bonner
Omah seated himself behind the desk in a chair that resembled a throne. Will
sat down in a chair facing his host. "You have the parcel for me?"
Will reached into his trouser pocket for the package, but it was empty. He was
about to panic when he remembered transferring it to his shirt pocket on his way
up to the Queen of Sheba's Wells. Quickly reaching into his pocket he passed the
package over the desk to Omah, who then opened the lid of a carved cigar box
sitting on the desk placing it inside. Will breathed a sigh of relief, his obligation had
now been discharged, and feeling the impulse to return to his ship, he commenced
to get up from his chair.
"You must stay for something to eat before going back to your ship," and Will
was about to decline when Omah continued, "there is something we must discuss."
Will was curious but did not feel pressured, accepting the invitation on the
basis he would not be back late as dusk was already falling. Omah had been
educated in England, and they conversed about the war whilst eating. During the
progression of the meal, Will had the opportunity to study him in more detail.
He was a fine sophisticated looking young man, about 30 years old, slight of
build, and well dressed in a dark blue business suit. He carried himself with an air
of someone who would be completely in command of any situation. Apart from
the colour of his skin, and the fact that his hair was pulled back into a small pony
tail in the nape of his neck, he looked very European.
Settling back to let his meal digest, Will was contemplating asking him directly
what he wanted to talk to him about when they were interrupted by the pockfaced
man with a colleague.
Quickly cornering Omah, they rapidly engaged him in animated conversation,
occasionally stopping briefly to look in Will's direction. At the apparent end of the
discussion the pock-faced man shrugged his shoulders, casting a final glance at
Will as he and his colleague walked out of the room.
Omah quickly came to the point. "The fact that you know me has cast a
shadow over this whole affair. They were listening when we introduced ourselves,
and they have been agitated ever since. Their lives are on the line if something goes
wrong, so we need to know more about you."
Will took a deep breath, circumstances were rapidly changing, and to use a
nautical term, the wind was being taken out of his sails. "I'll tell you the truth, the
parcel came to me by mail at Port Said. I was asked just to deliver it."
36

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
"We need to know more than that. What part of the intelligence organization
are you from? And let us have some names."
"I'm not part of any organization, and I don't know any names. I was virtually
blackmailed into delivering the package, I don't even know what's in it."
"It's a key code for my transmitter and they think you know about it. You must
have realized when you recognized me, and knew of my radio background that I
was involved. Until they are convinced that all is well, they won't let you go."
Before Will had the opportunity to respond, the two men came back into the
room again, the conversation soon reaching fever pitch. The pock-faced man kept
running to the small window facing out from the rear of the building, looking out
into the darkness, then back again. Opening the drawer of one of the side tables,
he extracted two 45 calibre army service revolvers, giving one to his colleague, at
the same time snapping open the breach to check the chamber for bullets, then
both men ran out of the side door.
Omah explained. "A stranger has appeared at one of the other houses which
is vacant. He is snooping around, heading this way. They think it is too much of a
coincidence, that it is happening whilst you are here. Wait while I check to see
what's going on."
Will stood leaning against the dining-room table, if he sat down he would be
at a disadvantage if anything happened. His stomach muscles were in knots, the
adrenalin was flowing and he felt the hair standing up on the back of his neck. In
quick succession his knees started to shake, indicating the state of his nerves.
He hardly had time to get control of himself when two muffled shots rang out
and within seconds, a third. He had heard and also fired a 45 service revolver
before, so he knew the sound and it's intensity indicated that the shots originated
well away from the house. He panicked at the prospect of being involved, but
before he had time to think Omah reappeared.
"They have shot somebody, stay here while we get rid of the body!" Will's
mind was suddenly activated. With everyone out at the back, the front of the house
would be clear. It was an opportune time for him to get out.
As fast as his shaking legs would carry him, and without losing time going
down the steps, he jumped from the front verandah, miraculously making it to the
street. Heading for the main road gasping for breath, and with a stitch in his side,
he searched the darkness ahead for any obstructions.
37

Will Bonner
Scared to look back he turned right on to the main road, and headed in what
he thought would be the direction of the Queen of Sheba's Wells. Once there, he
could get transport back to the ship.
He was now going downhill, and his feet felt as though they were not touching
the ground, making it difficult to run faster without stumbling. Suddenly, the lights
of a vehicle coming over the hill bore down on him, and he guessed that Omah and
his men had caught up with him.
Will stopped for a second or two, the terrain around him on either side of the
road was rocky and barren without any cover, leaving him completely exposed.
The horn of the vehicle shattered the still night and Will could now hear the engine
noise, coupled with the rattling of wheels and body metal. He calculated that he
may be able to lose them, and escape into the rocky outcrops, which the vehicle
would not be able to negotiate, so he took off at right angles to the road, but the
going was painfully slow over the uneven ground.
The horn sounded again this time followed by gunfire. My God, they're
shooting at me! But he heard no bullets and felt no pain in his body. He could still
hear the vehicle approaching, and making a fatal mistake he turned to see how far
it was behind. Missing his footing he fell on the rocky ground and rolled over.
Getting up on his hands and knees he looked around for even the slightest cover,
but there was none.
For the first time he could hear excited voices, quite close. In despair, he
collapsed to the ground terrified, waiting for what he thought would be the same
fate as the victim of the previous shooting. The voices were only yards away now,
the tone was commanding, and in Arabic. He could hear no footsteps, indicating
that they had stopped, and there appeared to be two men, one on either side of
him.
Rolling over, and bringing himself into a sitting position, Will stared through the
darkness in their direction. More shouted commands, and Will made no further
moves as they came closer. At first, he could not recognize the dim shapes as they
approached, but very soon he could not mistake their uniform.
They were Adenese police carrying Lee Enfield .303 army rifles which were
pointing at him. Will never thought it possible, he knew he was in a very dangerous
position, but felt relieved in some way. If he made no movements he would
probably be alright, so he remained passive. It was a typical "out of the frying pan
38

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
into the fire" situation, but there was no comparison with his previous predicament.
One of the policemen moved behind him and the other motioned Will to stand.
The man behind him then proceeded to search for weapons, then pulling his arms
backwards he felt the handcuffs snap over his wrists. All three walked slowly back
to what Will now knew to be the police wagon. Throughout the whole period,
since escaping from the house, he had seen no one other than these police. The
area seemed to be deserted.
Throwing him unceremoniously into the back of the vehicle, and locking the
steel door behind him, they proceeded to drive down the hill. Looking out of the
window, it seemed only a few minutes before the entrance to the Queen of Sheba's
Wells appeared. What confounded bad luck thought Will. If I'd had the grace of
another fifteen minutes I would have made it!
Because of the rough ride, and not having the use of his arms to steady himself,
Will found it necessary to sit on the floor and wrap his legs around one of the seat
supports to prevent being buffeted from one side of the wagon to the other.
Through the small meshed open window to the driver's compartment over the
noise of the engine, he could hear the rapid chatter of the policemen's voices,
interposed occasionally with laughter, and once again he experienced that same
feeling of relief that he had on the rocky outcrop some fifteen minutes earlier.
In complete contradiction to his predicament, he actually felt safe enclosed
within the walls of his mobile prison. More laughter emanated from the front and
Will felt himself breaking into a nervous smile. Within minutes the wagon pulled
up, and he assumed that they had probably arrived at a police station on the
outskirts of Aden.
The building was typical of a government structure in that part of the world.
Arches everywhere, opening into cloistered yards, surrounded with rooms.
Will was pushed every few paces to keep him on the move. He had partially
torn the sole from his right shoe, making it awkward to walk, the sharp stones had
penetrated, cutting his toes. Glancing down to make sure that he lifted his foot by
just the right amount to prevent tripping, he noticed that his clothes were torn,
especially around the legs, blood had oozed out in patches around the tears, and
also on to the sole of his shoe.
Opening one of the doors he was given a final push, and he found himself in
a small bare room, lit by a single electric light bulb hanging from the ceiling. A long
39

Will Bonner
thin mirror, hanging on one wall was tilted slightly, indicating that it had been
positioned to allow whoever was sitting at the desk to see into the yard - through
the doorway.
Will stepped forward and glancing at himself in the mirror, got the shock of
his life. There were signs of blood everywhere, mixed with dirt, and it had run
down the side of his face from a cut on his head. He didn't feel too bad, but the
sight took him by surprise. Will took a grip of himself, there were so many things
going on in his mind at that moment, but one thing for certain, he must not start
feeling sorry for himself, as he would probably need all the strength he could
muster, for what may lie ahead.
Seated behind a desk with his back to the wall, was a man wearing the same
uniform as the two policemen, but showing a higher rank, possibly an Inspector.
He was a military looking type, sporting a short moustache. One of the policemen
threw Will's wallet on to the desk. It had been taken when he was searched, and
immediately animated conversation took place. The two policemen stood back
and the Inspector opened it, removing the contents for inspection.
The room remained silent while he meticulously looked at each piece of paper,
placing them in a square pattern on his desk. Will could feel the salty sweat running
down his body from the still, hot air in the room, and it was getting into the various
cuts, causing stinging sensations.
The Inspector looked up after completing his inspection of Will's wallet, and
spoke in quite good English. "Your name is Brenner, and you are on a ship in the
convoy?"
"Yes, could you take these handcuffs off?"
"No, not until we have finished talking to you. What were you doing north of
the Queen of Sheba's Wells so late?"
"I was lost."
"Did you know that the area was under curfew?"
"No, I didn't."
The Inspector's last question solved why the area had been so deserted, and
also the reason for the shooting before his capture. They had been warning shots,
and that's why they have brought me in!
"Shots were heard in the vicinity and you were seen running away. What do
you know about that?"
40

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
"I was convinced that the road would take me back to the Queen of Sheba's
Wells where I could get transport, and I was going as fast as I could to get back
to the ship."
"You must have heard the shots."
"Yes, but that gave me all the more reason to start running."
The Inspector nodded his head as though in agreement, and Will started to feel
relieved. Was this going to be as straight forward as it sounded?
The Inspector gestured towards the others and his handcuffs were removed.
Will rubbed his wrists to get the circulation back to normal. "We will have to hold
you until tomorrow," the Inspector remarked, "the British Embassy will have to be
informed, and somebody will come to see you. It is routine."
What a blow! When the handcuffs were taken off Will thought he was going
to be released, but he was still in trouble, not knowing how it would all end.
The Inspector gestured again, coupled with a short remark in Arabic, and the
two policemen escorted Will out of the room and into the cloisters, the sole of his
shoe making clapping noises in the still night as he raised and lowered his foot.
The cell block was only a very short distance away, and they escorted him into
a large reception area leading to the cells. Other policemen were on night duty
there, and they took over the responsibility of getting Will under lock and key.
There had been no more pushing since his interrogation by the Inspector, and he
was beginning to gain his composure, but he was not prepared for what was going
to be his home for the night, and well into the next day.
The cell was of reasonable size, about 12 x 12 feet, probably to cope with
several prisoners at the same time. One small barred window was inset into the
very thick stone outside wall. There was no chair or bed, no washbasin or toilet,
just the four bare walls, ceiling and floor.
The door clanged shut behind him, and he was suddenly aware of a horrible
smell. It took him seconds to detect it's location. There were stale faeces in the
corner and someone had urinated on the walls. The stench was so pungent that
Will found himself trying not to breath in an effort to subdue it's effect.
He moved into the centre of the room, coming to the conclusion that due to his
condition he would not be able to stand for the remainder of the night. Lowering
himself into the sitting position he began mulling over the past events, and what
could happen the next day.
41

Will Bonner
Omah, was no doubt a well respected business man in Aden, and they would
never suspect him, so the chances were good that he would not be implicated. He
had heard of seamen being thrown into foreign jails for being drunk and disorderly,
and because of the Embassy acting too slowly in dealing with the situation, their
ships would sail without them. Was this going to happen to him?
Lying down on his side with his knees drawn up to his chest he fell into a series
of short but troubled naps, awaking each time to stretch his cramped legs, or being
disturbed by the guard checking up on him.
It seemed forever before the light of dawn came, but in reality it had only been
a few hours. Hearing noises in the corridor outside he stood up to see the hatch
in the door open, and a glass of water on a plate with a small pancake, appearing
on the shelf, adjacent to the hatch door.
Will was not hungry as he had eaten the night before, so he fortunately had no
desire to eat the stale looking pancake, but he would have to drink knowing the
problems the lack of fluid would bring, after sweating for so long.
Picking up the glass he took a sip. It was warm, as though it had been standing
out in the sun, it tasted shocking, and he could see bits of debris floating in the
bottom of the glass. Steeling himself and trying not to disturb the debris, he lifted
the glass and tried to take in as much as he could, shuddering as he did so.
Standing by the door, and placing his ear next to the barred opening, he
strained to listen to the activity going on in the reception area hoping to hear some
English language, but no such luck. He remained there nevertheless, it being the
best vantage point with nowhere else to go.
Quite early that morning he was surprised to be ushered into the reception
area, where it was obvious by the way he was dressed, that the man standing there
was from the Embassy. By the look on his face, he was definitely not very happy
being called out early. His bearing would have fitted in perfectly with the plush
decor of the Embassy, looking completely out of place in this filthy setting.
"My name is Forsyth, what have you been up to young man?" he asked
accusingly.
"Nothing, I just got caught out during the curfew."
"You should have known better, you've got us into a fine mess."
Will felt his anger rising. "Mr. Forsyth, isn't it your job to look after my
welfare? Ask whether I am being mistreated and properly housed? Also, when
42

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
can I expect to be released back to my ship?"
"Don't be impertinent young man, we'll do our best but we can't promise
anything."
Typical! Will thought, as he was being taken back to his cell. That didn't go
down very well, and as the door once again clanged shut behind him he began to
imagine the consequences, if he were to be left behind.
The encounter with the Embassy official Forsyth, had built up a resentment that
was giving him some spark. What the hell! he thought. These government people
don't work in days, it takes them all of that to sign a piece of paper! Resigning
himself to the fact that he would have to wait it out, he decided that if nothing had
happened by the evening he would start complaining bitterly, making himself a
nuisance until they gave him better quarters and food, so he settled down to wait.
As the day went by the cell turned into an oven, and Will found himself lying
on the floor, both to conserve energy and to try to get away from the heat, which
was several degrees hotter closer to the ceiling.
It was early afternoon when he was aroused by loud English speaking voices
shouting in the reception area. His feeling of fatigue seemed suddenly to disappear
as the sounds inspired him. Leaping to his feet he placed his ear once again next
to the grating in the door, but before he had the chance to decipher what was
going on, he could hear multiple sets of footsteps approaching, along the short
corridor to his cell.
The door opened and he was confronted by Peter Bowles, one of the officers
from the ship, in full uniform. Immediately behind him, an entourage of just about
all the policemen on duty, including the Inspector who had interrogated him the
previous night.
"Bloody hell! he shouted looking at Will's condition, and turning to the
Inspector, Bowles continued, "you've tortured him, you've bloody well tortured
him!"
"No, we haven't," the Inspector replied, looking alarmed, not knowing how
to deal with the situation. Peter Bowles rage continued to rise and also the
amplitude of his voice.
"I'm going to have this man photographed for evidence, and I'll see to it that
you all get charged and court martialled. You'll all lose your jobs, and if I have my
way you'll get put in prison. Release this man immediately!"
43

Will Bonner
The Inspector floundered, stuttering. "We must have approval from the
Embassy."
"Bugger the Embassy!" Bowles shouted, and lifting his head above the crowd
surrounding the door he called, "Brampton, go and get the British Military Police
Commander!"
"No, no, don't do that!" the Inspector interjected, "we'll release him now," and
stepping through the doorway towards Will the Inspector put his hand on his
shoulder to guide him out.
"Take your hands off that man," Bowles ordered, "he's had enough abuse, and
bring a stretcher!" The Inspector spoke frantically in Arabic and a stretcher
appeared. Will could see Wes approaching the door. At the sight of Will's
appearance he stopped in his tracks.
"My God, what have they done to you?" Then in the next instance his concern
turned to anger. Turning to all the Adenese police in the corridor he shouted
something in Arabic. Will was stunned. He can speak Arabic! Again, he was
amazed at the capacity of this man.
By this time the Inspector and Officer Bowles had gone to the office, and just
about all the policemen around the door were looking really scared, continuously
looking from one to the other.
"What did you say to them Wes?"
"I told them that they would be put against a wall and shot for what they had
done."
Will could easily have walked out, but it was insisted that he get on the
stretcher. As he was carried through the reception, he felt like the survivor from
a disaster. The place was crowded and Peter Bowles joined them, walking
alongside.
Raising his voice above the hubbub he shouted. "You have not heard the last
of this, we'll be back!" and with that parting remark Will found himself outside in
the street, being helped into a car, leaving the stretcher lying on the pavement.
The car pulled away, and ship's Officer Bowles turned to Will who was sitting
in the back seat. "How are you feeling Brenner?"
"Much better now Sir, thanks to you."
"Did an official from the Embassy call?"
"Yes Sir."
44

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
"These officials are bloody hopeless, they have no guts to deal with a situation
when it arises, but those buggers at the police station will think twice before they
maltreat another British citizen!"
With all that had gone on in the last half-hour, Will didn't have the courage to
tell him that they had not mistreated him. It would only require further explanations
and he was just glad to be out of that jail.
"You stink like a pig Will," Wes remarked "Let's get you back for a shower
and a change of clothes, and you had better go up to the ship's doctor and be
checked out."
"Stop fussing about like an old hen Wes, but I'm in your debt for bailing me
out."
Once back on board he had to encounter one more surprise that he had not
envisaged. Everyone who knew him, had crowded around the entrance to his
cabin. They had obviously heard everything via the galley wireless, which was a
shipboard term for the passage of information by mouth, and like any rumour, it
had quickly circulated around the ship.
Cheers and clapping broke out as he approached with Wes, and they all
parted, giving him sufficient room to enter the cabin. The contrast of his ordeal,
and now the concerns of all these men for his welfare, pushed Will to the edge and
he felt as though he would breakdown, but Wes as usual came to his rescue.
"Thanks fella's," he called out, "shall we leave him alone now, he's had a bit of
trouble and needs a rest." Without hesitation, everyone quickly came by, each with
a word of encouragement, leaving him alone in the cabin with Wes.
"I owe you an explanation Wes."
"No you don't, I know what you've been through. Just take it easy and get
your strength back before we sail."
After a shower and a visit to the ship's dispensary to get his cuts treated, Will
began to feel his old self again.
It was evening mealtime and going to the dinner table he devoured everything
in sight, as if he had been on a hunger strike. During the meal he considered the
aftermath of the recent happenings, and concluded that with the way things had
worked out, there appeared to be no loose ends to worry about in the near future.
Once at sea, he would be out of the local jurisdiction anyway.
The convoy would sail the next day, making the release from jail, a close call.
45

Will Bonner
The voyage across the Indian Ocean to Bombay, even though the monsoon season
had started, would be routine and mundane, but after his recent experiences, for
once, he was looking forward to that.
Feeling very tired he climbed into his bunk for an early night. Nothing, not even
the heat would prevent him from having a long sleep, but before he closed his eyes
he made a vow.
He would never go ashore in Aden again.
46

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Chapter 4
The Proposal
The voyage across the Indian Ocean would take over a week, and after the
events in Aden Will was happy during the first few days to settle down to his
routine watches. In that part of the world, it was the time of year when the
monsoons started, and before very long Will found himself once again, in heavy
seas. It was not quite as bad as the Atlantic, but bad enough for his stomach to
start rejecting food.
Portholes were closed, the deadlights lowered and screwed down tight, to
prevent the seas from getting into the cabin, should the porthole be damaged. With
the lower decks now battened down, the air circulation was reliant only on the
ship's ventilation system, consequently, the temperature skyrocketed. The
incessant rain made the atmosphere excessively humid, and breathing most
difficult.
Will kept a constant vigil, inspecting the clothes hanging in his locker. Mould
was growing in patches and needed regular attention to prevent having to throw
47

Will Bonner
them away. Between watches, he would spend most of the time lying on his back,
to ease the waves of nausea resulting from the motion of the ship. He felt
constantly ill, finding even performing the most routine tasks an effort.
The violent excursions could be likened to that of the Big Dipper at a
fairground without the benefit of being able to get off. It just keeps going twentyfour
hours a day, and for as many days as it takes to clear the weather. The act of
getting out of his bunk to start work was always a torturous ordeal.
About one day's sailing from Bombay the weather abated, skies were clear,
and the air felt fresh. What a relief it was to be able to open the portholes again
and feel the fresh circulation of air in the cabin! After the ordeal of the rough
crossing, the sides of Will's stomach were literally sticking together for lack of
food, and it was almost like Christmas to be able to sit down to a full meal again.
The activity on board intensified, as hundreds of soldiers began to prepare for
disembarkation. Will usually kept away from the troop decks during this period,
but on that particular day he had decided to take a walk on the aft deck. Having
had a good meal, and with the ship now in a calm sea, and on an even keel, his
nausea was rapidly disappearing.
The decks were crowded, but Will managed to find himself a space next to
one of the air vents and sat down, using the vent as a back rest. Four soldiers sat
only a few feet away engaged in conversation. The nearest one turned to Will.
"Where is the ship going when it leaves Bombay?"
"I don't know for certain, but I think we are picking up troops in Bombay and
taking them home, via South Africa."
The ship berthed at Victoria docks. Will always watched the troops
disembarking, and this occasion was no exception. They were continuously filing
down the gangways, assembling on the quay and marching to lorries or trains that
were waiting to transport them to their various destinations. The shouting of
military commands echoed around the quay, accompanied by the sound of army
boots on the hard concrete surface. Someone called out. "There's Wingate!"
Will ran forward as far as he could go to get a better look. The contingent was
small, only about 50 selected men. Colonel Wingate was dressed as though he had
just got back from the jungle, wearing khaki baggy shorts, a shirt and a pair of well
worn army sandals. Orde Charles Wingate rising to the rank of Major-General
was a dynamic but unorthodox military leader in world war 2. His exploits behind
48

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Japanese lines in the jungles of Burma were creative, daring, and controvercial. He
inspired great confidence in his men a force known as the “Chindits” to tolerate the
extremely adverse physical conditions. Malaria and malnutrition, with lice and
leeches adding to their misery. As a result apart from being killed in action many
did not survive.He walked up and down the ranks of men with his arms behind his
back, clutching a short cane or officer's baton. A shouted command echoed across
the quayside and they marched towards their awaiting transportation.
Disembarkation was now completed, but the ship would be in Bombay for
about a week, during which time troops that had either served their time, been
wounded, and for many other reasons, would be taken aboard and shipped back
home to England. Will had been to Bombay before and knew his way around,
enough to find the places that interested him. His duties had been drastically
reduced, leaving him with practically all of the week off.
He was looking forward to seeing more of the native areas, other than the well
known tourist sights. He always went alone, giving him the freedom of choice
without having to get a consensus. It had always been that way, even though
everyone was warned not to go into the native quarter alone, but he had two rules
that he rigidly kept to. Never go at night and never walking - but always taking a
ride in a gharry. There had been a couple of times in the past when he had found
himself in a problematic situation, and the gharry driver had come to the rescue on
each occasion.
Will remained on board for the rest of the day. There was plenty of activity on
the quayside, which was far from boring, as viewed from the ship's rail. That night
was to be the first quiet, trouble free sleep, he had experienced for some time.
The following morning, after a few early duties and a late breakfast, he had
decided to spend a leisurely day out in that part of the town, which was within
walking distance. It was a fine hot day, as he made his way out of the docks and
on to the red betel-nut stained footpath, leading into the town.
Aden seemed a long way in the past, but Will began comparing places. There
was some comparison, but the magnitude of poverty here was astronomical. It was
constantly only feet away, and impossible to get any relief without going into shops
or bazaars, where the traders would keep the beggars away.
The human influence was intense, thousands and thousands of people
everywhere, and the intensity would grow, the deeper into the native quarter,
49

Will Bonner
where one might choose to venture. There was that acrid smell again, difficult to
describe. Not distinguishable as human or animal, but a cocktail of everything the
culture emanated, which seemed to be magnified by the heat. One just had to be
there to experience it.
Will walked on, increasing his stride to shrug off the persistent tugging of his
clothes by the native population to get attention. He was heading for a barber shop
in the vicinity to get a haircut. He knew he would be in the chair for about two
hours, and after some lunch would spend the rest of the day in the bazaars hoping
to pick something up to take back home to his mother.
Arriving back at the ship during the early evening, and finding that the diningroom
was still open, he helped himself to a meal from the galley and sat at an
empty table. It had been a good first day ashore and he felt relaxed, enjoying his
meal without the interruption of the ship's movement.
"There you are Will." It was Wes Brampton. "I haven't seen you for awhile,
but I thought I would catch up with you eventually. Have you been ashore yet?"
"Yes Wes, all day. I really enjoyed it."
"Take some advice from an old man, and don't go into the native quarter on
your own."
"No, I won't Dad," countered Will, jokingly.
"There's been someone asking for you." This last remark demanded Will's full
attention. "He waited for you, but before he left I told him that you usually spent
time at the Taj Mahal Hotel during the afternoon, stopping for a drink and
sometimes a meal. He said he would wait there tomorrow for you."
Will bombarded Wes for more information, but there was very little he could
give other than that he had asked for Will by name, and Wes giving him a sketchy
description of the man.
"I'm off now. Don't forget about the native quarters, we don't want another
episode like Aden do we?"
"I promise Wes. Take care, see you soon."
Here we go again! Will thought. Wes did not know this man, so he can't be
a crew member. The only positive information indicated that he was European.
It's no good trying to see into the future, he would have to see what tomorrow
would bring, but the meeting with the correspondent at Algiers kept surfacing in
50

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
his mind, which disturbed him. His agenda for the following day had now been
rearranged for him.
Once again, after early duties and a late breakfast, Will decided to make use
of his morning to write a letter home, and get over to the hotel early afternoon for
a late lunch. He found it difficult to write with his mind searching for answers about
his forthcoming meeting that he knew would be impossible to reconcile, but finally
managed to fill up the air letter without breaching the censorship code. Getting into
his shore going gear and dropping off his letter at the purser's office, he reluctantly
made his way ashore.
The Taj Mahal Hotel was plush to the extreme, exceeding even the European
standard of excellence. One could walk from it's atmosphere in the reception
lounge only a few yards into the street, where literally thousands of people had no
possessions, and their life's progress was the ability to be able to get from one
meal to the next. Will would never become insulated from it's profound effect on
him.
There were very few people in the lounge area and Will had no difficulty in
finding a large comfortable chair. Lowering himself into the luxury of the cushions
he looked around for signs of his prospective visitor.
The physical surroundings during the wait for his contact at the Queen of
Sheba's Wells in Aden bore no comparison, but the feeling of apprehension was
just as powerful. A smartly dressed Indian in a red and white uniform appeared,
carrying a silver tray with a white cloth draped over his left arm. Will ordered a
cold drink of juice which appeared without delay, and he sat sipping it, wondering
how long it would be before he was approached. Under normal circumstances he
could have relaxed, but he was on edge, time was slipping by and finishing his
drink, he ordered another.
The lounge started to get busier, people returning from an early lunch Will
thought, and he kept checking around, eliminating the groups and looking for
individuals.
"Will Brenner?" The voice came from behind and to his left. Finding it
awkward to turn in the soft cushions, he stood up and pivoted around in the
direction of the voice.
Confronting him was a man impeccably dressed in a light khaki safari jacket,
matching long trousers, and highly polished brown shoes. It went through Will's
51

Will Bonner
mind that this man would make an ideal partner for Miles Cavanagh, the assistant
purser. His tanned complexion was clear, but slightly wrinkled around the eyes and
forehead, putting his age around 50 years.
"Yes, I'm Will Brenner," moving forward, extending his hand to greet him.
"I say old chap, I hope I haven't kept you waiting?"
"No need for apologies, I have no other arrangements."
"That's good, let's have a bite to eat and we can talk." They finished up in a
casual dining-room off the main entrance hall. His visitor selected a table in the
corner and they sat down.
"You have the advantage," Will prompted. "I don't know your name."
"Just call me Blyth old chap, if you would."
"I haven't met you before, but you appear to know me."
"I most certainly do, that's what I want to talk to you about."
Their conversation was momentarily interrupted by the waiter, and Will took
advantage of the break to get his mind organized.
"I don't wish to appear rude, but I would prefer you to get to the point of your
visit."
Blyth hesitated, busying himself breaking and buttering his bread roll. Will
pressed no further, allowing him the privilege of restarting the conversation. He
was expecting to hear something similar to the correspondent in Algiers, having
made up his mind that it was probably about the package. Paying no attention to
his meal, he looked directly across the table at Blyth hoping to catch any reaction
on his face, but nothing showed.
"I am part of the intelligence organization that arranged for the delivery of the
package in Aden." Will waited for more cajoling and possible threats, but they did
not materialize. He continued. "We were very impressed by the way you handled
the task. It didn't go quite as planned, did it?"
"There was some trouble, if that's what you mean." He didn't elaborate further
and say things that he would regret.
"A man was shot and killed," Blyth whispered, not wanting that part of the
conversation to be overheard, "you did exactly the right thing by splitting away
from the scene, but most unfortunate to have been picked up by the police.
Nevertheless, by getting away, you were not implicated."
"I was questioned about the shooting."
52

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
"Yes, but you gave the right answers."
"The police will be investigating won't they?" accepting by now that Blyth
knew all about the incident.
"No, the man killed was a German agent, an absolute idiot trying to take
advantage of the curfew to get information. He deserved what he got and his body
will never be found. The police have concluded that it was another sporadic
reporting of gunfire they get occasionally around Aden. It's all over, and the
package is doing it's job. You took the right action under pressure."
"Would you believe I was only trying to survive?"
"Survival is the name of the game, that's why we are impressed." The
conversation seemed to be approaching a conclusion and Will was puzzled. Why
is he telling me all this? There was no need. He must have a ulterior motive. Once
again, the thought crossed his mind that he was about to be forced into doing
another job, but Blyth continued. "Let's have coffee in the lounge."
During the walk back to their original meeting place, Will had concluded that
there was more to come, but what? The lounge was now practically deserted, and
getting seated in the corner of the room enabled them to continue their
conversation without the fear of being overheard.
Coffee and small chocolate wafer biscuits appeared within seconds of getting
settled and Blyth, reaching into his pocket gave the waiter a tip. The level of
conversation was now missing from the room and the silence was interrupted only
by the sound of the giant fans hanging from the ceiling, and the occasional hollow
voices reverberating from the adjacent marbled entrance hall.
Blyth broke the silence in a loud whisper. "Look here old chap, I"ll come
straight to the point. Would you like to be part of our particular section of British
Intelligence?"
Will's mind struggled to formulate an appropriate answer, and it's effect must
have been visible on his face. Blyth continued. "You would sign off when you got
back to Liverpool, we would take over from there. The money is good and the
assignments are not all like the one in Aden."
"Tell me more about the organization."
"That's not my job, but you must decide now, for things to proceed. In any
case you've already been initiated and must have a fair idea of what's involved."
53

Will Bonner
Will's mind was racing through the events since his encounter with the ferret
man, trying to weigh up the pro's and con's, but it was impossible to come to any
conclusion. "I'll see you here tomorrow and give you my decision then."
"No, it must be now," Blyth reaffirmed. "This will be our one and only meeting.
After today, the chances of seeing one another again, will be highly unlikely."
Will's mind was filled with uncertainty. He had always been taught to react to
gut feelings, and he wasn't very happy with the way things were being presented,
in the light of no available facts.
"In that case my answer will have to be no."
Blyth showed no reaction. "You surely appreciate that things have not
changed, and you will be called upon from time to time."
"There's not much I can do to avoid that," Will countered, and expecting the
inevitable. "I suppose you have something for me now."
"As a matter of fact, yes." Will was slowly getting used to the trend of events.
After the Aden incident, he would nevertheless try to keep out of trouble. He was
beginning to learn.
They both relaxed and Blyth began to outline the requirements. He lowered
his voice and Will moved closer to catch every word. "We have an agent in
Bombay who is a Hindu and he has a shoe and carpet shop quite close to here,
near Crawford market. This is his card." and passing it over, Will noted it was
printed in both Hindu and English. "He has been suspected of being a double
agent, and recently we have proved that this is the case. People are getting killed
and he has to be stopped." Will had no need to even think about what Blyth had
just said.
"There's no way I can possibly help you."
"Yes you can, and your part would be simple."
"That's what your man in Algiers said, and look what happened in Aden!"
"It's quite straightforward."
"Yes, he said that too!"
Blyth carried on. "It is illegal to own or sell weapons and have knives over 6"
long. It is punishable by death in some cases, and we are certain that he uses this
shop as a front to sell ritual daggers, scimitars and weapons of all kinds, but we
can't find out where he keeps them. Once we do, we can have him put away, but
we are certain that they won't be at the shop. You will never be suspected, so go
54

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
into the shop to buy a pair of sandals, and casually ask where you could buy a
ceremonial dagger to use as a letter opener. They will want to go away and get
one or two samples to bring to you. Say no, you want to see the complete display
to choose from."
Blyth still continued. "If they make arrangements for the following day go along
with that, it gives them time to check you out. Give them all the information
necessary to convince them, and when you eventually view the whole collection
of stock, buy something, be enthusiastic about everything, and come away thrilled
with your purchase."
"How will you know where the cache is if I won't see you again?"
"Someone will keep tabs on you. Just go back to the ship, after the purchase."
He stopped and took a deep breath. "Do you have any queries?"
"No, I'll go tomorrow afternoon, that will give another three days for them to
contact me before the ship sails."
Blyth extended his hand. "I'd better be off, I've been here too long as it is. Best
of luck." Within seconds he had disappeared through the door.
Will suddenly felt very lonely. He was now completely on his own, with no one
to turn to for advice or assistance, travelling down a one-way street with no turning
back. Everything sounded easy, as before, but Will knew that it could backfire at
any time, once things got started.
The lounge had lost it's comfortable feeling so he got up from his seat and
walked out trying to expel his troubled thoughts. Finding himself in the main
entrance he hesitated at the bottom of the large marble staircase, the hotel's most
talked about feature, briefly watching people enroute to the floors above. Others
were standing in various places around the hall. There was no sign of Blyth, not
that Will expected him to be there. He stopped short as he passed through the
main door to the street.
Confronted with torrential rain, which was commonplace during the monsoon
period, and sometimes lasting for days, there was no point in waiting for it to stop.
Will started to walk back to the ship, and within a couple of minutes he was
completely saturated. Just like standing fully clothed under a warm shower Will
mused, as he dodged from side to side to avoid bumping into people on the
pavement.
55

Will Bonner
The following day he had decided to get reacquainted with the area during the
morning, and after a light lunch would try and locate the shoe shop. He wouldn't
need to ask directions as he had been into the Crawford market area before,
looking through the bazaars, but if he had any difficulties he could slip back to the
tourist centre for more information, which was within walking distance.
Will eventually found himself at the entrance to the Crawford market, it was
early afternoon giving him plenty of time to find the shop. Practically all of the
shops within easy reach of the docks bore the English as well as Hindu signs, so
he knew that there would be no difficulty spotting it amongst the others. Looking
again at the address on the card, he knew that it would not be situated inside the
market, so he would have to concentrate on the streets in the near vicinity.
I suppose it is understandable when an address is given to a European he
thinks European, where all the street names and numbers are carefully sign posted.
But here when looking down a street, one is confronted with thousands of people,
all dressed alike, and the whole scene radiating a picture of organized chaos. The
congestion of both people and buildings was overwhelming!
Will looked in bewilderment, wondering whether right from the start he would
have to go to the tourist centre for help. He decided however, to first give it a try
since he was on the spot and had enough time. Starting systematically, he searched
the street in a clockwise direction, some fifty yards at a time, on both sides of the
street. He had no need for concern and within the hour caught sight of the shop,
which was centred in the more prestigious part of the area.
The frontage was much larger than he had expected, with cascades of racks
and stands on the pavement, containing shoes, belts, and other leather goods. Two
young Hindus, positioned at either end of the display, were obviously employees
keeping a constant vigilance against prospective thieves, which abounded in the
vicinity. They would only have to relax for a second and something would
mysteriously disappear.
Will stood for a few minutes trying to pluck up enough courage to cross the
street and enter the shop, but the longer he stood the more nervous he became.
Eventually, the butterflies in his stomach became so obvious that he moved away
and around the corner, out of sight of the shop, trying to quell the doubts that were
uppermost in his mind. After awhile his nervousness began to abate.
56

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
This was something new for Will, and he was trying to come to terms with the
role of deceit that he would soon have to perform. His wellbeing, even perhaps his
life, could be in jeopardy if he messed things up. You will have to make a move
soon, or you will never go at all, Will said to himself. For God's sake, go in there,
buy a pair of sandals and ask the question!
Approaching the shop once again from the other side of the street, he stopped
momentarily, looking around for signs of Blyth's surveillance man, but it was
impossible because of the crowded street. Picking his way across to the open
entrance door, he went inside.
Will became suddenly aware of the expanse. The room was huge, some 100
feet or more long, by at least 50 feet wide, which contrasted sharply with the
congested frontages along the street. It was split roughly into two sections by a low
partition with settees on either side. No sales counters existed. The first section
was stacked around the walls with similar leather goods that he had seen on
display outside the shop. The whole rear section was taken up with carpets, and
two British soldiers were seated, looking at small woven mats.
Two Hindu's busied themselves, carrying and laying out the carpets in front of
the soldiers for their approval. A third man, no doubt the salesman, was engaged
in dialogue with them. There were no other customers in the shop.
Glancing around the perimeter of the room Will noticed doors on either side
and one at the back, presumably the trades entrance. In the far right corner from
where he was standing, was a small enclosed office type room, with windows on
two sides looking out into the shop. Inside the office he could see two men, one
seated the other standing.
"Good afternoon, Sahib." The Hindu bowed slightly and gestured Will towards
an easy chair on the side of the room. He was dressed in a clean white gown,
reaching down to his calves, and on his head a deep red fez with matching tassel.
His traditional thongs were of good quality, the heels making a muted clapping
sound as he walked over to the chair. The sheer volume of leather goods and
carpets, served to reduce the noise level from the street down to a whisper,
making the interaction of the sale in progress at the other end of the room, quite
legible.
57

Will Bonner
"How can I help you, Sahib?" The command of the English language here in
Bombay was prevalent, and the accent a delight. Will would have no difficulty in
communicating.
"I would like to see some good quality sandals, with solid heels and soles."
"Yes Sahib, would you like some tea while you are waiting?"
"No thank you, I've just had lunch."
The Hindu nodding his head, retired to get the sandals and Will settled back
in an easy chair. The shop assistants here were natural experts in the art of looking
after the needs of a customer. Never rushing, and always obliging, it would take
some considerable time to close the sale, and during that time a relationship would
be struck, which would well serve Will's needs to lead into the enquiry about the
knives.
Lots of sandals were brought and displayed on the floor in front of Will for his
selection, and talk centred around the pro's and con's of the various designs. The
two soldiers had left with small rolled up carpets tucked under their arms, much
to the delight of the salesman beaming his way to the back of the shop, leaving Will
the sole customer.
By this time his own transaction was well under way, and he was now calling
the salesman by his first name. This was probably about the right time to spring the
question thought Will, and awaited the right opportunity during the haggling over
the price, which was a well known ritual, but none was forthcoming.
The price was now agreed and he was reaching for his wallet and thinking to
himself "I'm going to blow it" when his chance came right out of the blue.
"Is there anything else, Sahib?"
"As a matter of fact there is something you may be able to help me with."
"Yes, Sahib."
"A friend of mine bought a ceremonial dagger in Bombay about a year ago.
Would you know where I could get one to use as an ornamental letter opener?"
A look of anxiety came over Ali's face, and Will persisted further. "I'm
prepared to pay quite a lot of money for it, just a small one."
"I'm sorry Sahib I can't help you, but I'll make some enquiries." Will turned in
his chair to follow Ali's progress to the back of the shop.
58

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
The two men from the office had moved into the carpet section and Ali was
making a bee-line for them. Animated discussion took place, all three men staring
intently in Will's direction.
Will initially stared back, trying to convey a confident air, but inside the
butterflies were beginning to return, and he finally picked up his newly purchased
sandals, pretending to examine them, occasionally looking their way for a few
seconds at a time. Ali quickly ran across and disappeared through one of the side
doors, and when it reopened Will was confronted with something he had not
bargained for.
The man who entered was big and stocky, wearing a turban, and belted shirt
over his ballooned trousers. Sporting a bushy black beard and long curved
moustache, he could have just stepped out from a Hollywood movie. But to Will,
as he strode across to the others, he represented a fearful shift of the
circumstances.
Feeling the change of mood Will, pretending to look through the racks against
the wall, moved closer to the door, to provide if necessary, a quick exit. Glancing
back at the group he was aware that they were staring at him again, but still
engaged in conversation. Will's tension was still rising by the second, and all he
could hear was the pounding of his heart. He tried to control it by breathing slow
and deep.
What was to happen next? He didn't have to wait long to find out, as one of
the men dressed in European clothes, walked down the room towards him. As he
drew closer it became evident to Will that he was not Hindu but Goanese, and
would probably originate from Goa, an independent Portugese state, situated
about 300 miles south of Bombay.
Their facial structure, unlike the Hindu, was as different as chalk from cheese.
They could easily be picked out from the crowd, and were employed on the ships
as stewards. Will knew their ways well, and his tension began to fade away.
"You wanted to see some daggers?"
"Yes, I was looking for a small ceremonial dagger to use as a letter opener.
Do you know anyone that can sell me one?"
"Perhaps. Are you from the convoy?"
"Yes, my ship is berthed at Victoria dock, but I only have three days before
we sail. My name is Will Brenner." he said, extending his hand.
59

Will Bonner
"I can arrange for someone to bring one or two for you to look at." Will felt
the tension rising again.
"I am prepared to pay a lot of money for the right one, but I must see a
collection to be able to choose, otherwise I am not interested."
The Goanese hesitated before answering. Everything was going as Blyth had
outlined, but this is where it could fall apart. He had done as he was asked and
could do no more.
"Wait here," and returning to the others they once again engaged in animated
conversation, and the visual interchange started all over again, giving Will the
feeling of a criminal in a police line-up.
Will walked across to the centre of the room aligning himself with the front
door to get a full view of the street and observing that the activity had not
decreased. The continuous flow on the pavement across the entrance of the shop
was suddenly interrupted by the appearance inside the door of a man walking
briskly into the room. He was Hindu, Will recognized him immediately as the
owner of another shop he had frequented on a previous occasion.
Spotting Will, he bounded across to him with outstretched hand. "Hello Sahib,
why are you here and not buying from my beautiful shop?"
Will gave a customary reply, watching him head to the back of the room to
talk to the Goanese. After engaging in conversation, laughter emanated from the
group as the Hindu pointed towards Will.
On his way past Will he stopped briefly. "Don't forget Sahib, if you're not
satisfied here come to my beautiful shop."
The Goanese appeared at his side. "One of my boys will follow you back to
the ship, and we will get back to you tomorrow. Bring enough cash, you may need
a thousand rupees," he said, as they both stepped out into the street. After a short
interchange with one of the boys who Will had seen before entering the shop, the
Goanese disappeared back inside.
Everything so far had gone according to plan. The boy, who was designated
to follow him back to the ship was typical. Dressed in a shirt, shorts and sandals,
he was sticking to him like glue, some twenty or thirty paces behind.
During the 30 minutes walk, Will had time to think about what had transpired.
Away from the tense atmosphere of the shop he could analyze things more
rationally, finally realizing that only two factors had any significance.
60

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
First, the appearance on the scene of the big Hindu, and second, the mere fact
that he was in the process of deceiving them, and it was the latter that was creating
the turmoil for him. Coming to this conclusion, he knew that he had to keep a
strong curb on his nerves, otherwise they could contribute to his downfall.
Approaching the gangway he looked back along the quay, but there was no
sign of the boy. He was probably still observing him, and Will, walking to the top
of the gangway, conversed with the seaman on watch for a couple of minutes,
then went below.
The following morning Will sat on deck, his mates were either sleeping in, or
had already gone ashore. He felt as though he was in a dentist's waiting-room, but
the ache was in his head, not his mouth!
They may not come. What’s likely to happen when he went back to the shop?
Would he be taken somewhere?
In an effort to put the questions and doubts into the back of his mind he started
to walk the deck. Lunch time came and went without contact, and Will was
beginning to think that they had abandoned the arrangement. He had already been
to the Pursers office to procure the one thousand rupees, and apart from changing
into his shore going clothes he was ready to go.
To help pass the time away he decided to go up to see if Wes was around and
find out what he had been up to, but just as he was about to leave he was
approached by one of the Goanese cabin stewards coming across the deck, still
dressed in his work uniform. He was obviously still on duty. Will knew him by
sight and hesitated, allowing him to catch up.
"Will Brenner?"
"Yes."
"I've been asked to tell you to go to the shop now."
"I understand." Will tried not to show his surprise, but he was completely
astounded.
He was expecting someone from ashore to contact him, and to be called to the
gangway, but this was a complete turn of events, and he struggled to take control
of the situation, thinking about the ramifications of having the possibility of a crew
member with knowledge of his dealings. He's only passing on a message, don't
make a big thing of it. Go ashore and get it over and done with!
61

Will Bonner
Changing his clothes he took one further precaution. He had been taught how
to help protect his wallet carrying the one thousand rupees from being stolen, so
binding it with thin, strong cord, he passed the end through a hole in his pocket and
threaded it up under his shirt, terminating it into a loop around his neck. Giving the
wallet a pull, and feeling the tug around his neck indicating that it was working, he
proceeded ashore.
His only desire was to get to the shop as quickly as possible, to give little time
for thought. Even though he had his primitive anti theft device, his hand still
clutched his wallet, as he bumped and jostled his way through the crowds.
The shop front was the same, and the boy who had followed him back to the
ship made no sign of recognition as he approached. He had seen no one that
would fit the description of Blyth's accomplice engaged to have Will under
surveillance. Stepping into the shop he expected things to move rapidly, but he
was mistaken.
There was a customer in the shop, and Will was directed to a chair and a
pretence enacted that he was being served. Fortunately, the other customer must
have been in the shop for some time and very soon left, with the usual entourage
of salesmen seeing him to the door. Like lightning, the Goanese from yesterday's
encounter approached Will, ushering him quickly out of sight into the small office
in the corner.
The room was bigger than Will had first thought, and contained the usual office
necessities, a small desk, two chairs, with a filing cabinet pushed into one corner.
The Goanese pointed to a chair and Will sat down, there was just the two of them
in the office.
"Have you brought the money?"
"Yes, I have brought enough but will only pay what the goods are worth. You
can't ask me for a thousand rupees for something only worth five hundred."
The Goanese smiled. "I understand." Even though the immediate future was
unknown to him, Will felt more relaxed and in control of his feelings as the
connection between the two men had now taken on a trading atmosphere. The
Goanese seemed to have been calling the shots from the beginning.
Has Blyth been given the wrong information? Will wondered. This man was
probably the agent, not the Hindu. It's not my concern, Will countered. Just keep
your mind on what you are doing! The Goanese stood up and went across to the
62

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
window to look out into the shop, and Will followed his gaze, noting that it was still
clear of customers.
Moving quickly behind the desk he extracted a small panel at floor level,
beckoning Will to go through. Getting down on his hands and knees he proceeded
to crawl through the small opening, followed by the Goanese, who replaced the
panel back into position behind him.
Will rose to his feet in the dim light as a scurrying sound, only feet away on the
dirt floor made him jump, and something ran under the steep, narrow, open tread
stairway in front of him. He shuddered. Rats, and big ones, but he was mistaken.
It was a small mongoose, probably kept around to keep the snakes away.
He relaxed, knowing that there was no danger of being bitten. Will grabbed
the cascading rope as he negotiated the steep steps behind the Goanese, arriving
eventually on a tiny landing, barely sufficient to accommodate the two men. He
found himself standing precariously with one foot on the landing, the other down
on one of the steps, gripping the rope tightly to keep his balance.
The Goanese was knocking on what appeared to be a heavy steel-clad door,
and Will noticed that it had no door handle or latch, adding another dimension to
this already sinister circumstance. The door opened slowly due to it's weight, and
the Goanese entered, leaving Will some room to step on to the landing and into the
room. At first, he was fully occupied with his safety, but when he eventually looked
up as the door closed behind him, the sight he was confronted with was aweinspiring!
The room resembled an ancient armoury, with swords, cutlasses and rifles
hanging on the walls, pistols, daggers, etc. on shelves and small tables. The big
bearded Hindu was standing in the middle of the room, accompanied by his twin
brother, who Will thought was just as big and ferocious looking.
Blyth's words sprang immediately to mind. "There is an agent who is Hindu,
the weapons are definitely not at the shop." Wrong on two counts. The two
Hindu's were muscle men, it was written all over them, and the Goanese was in
charge, obviously the agent. How clever to have the weapons concealed, close to
hand, and under control.
How would Blyth know the weapons were located here? His surveillance
would now conclude that the second part of the plan had failed.
63

Will Bonner
Will pulled himself together and commenced to enthuse. There was no need
for acting now, the various pieces were superb. The Goanese spoke to the others
in Hindu and then turned to Will. "You know what the penalty is for keeping these
weapons?"
"Yes I do, but my friend didn't say anything and neither will I. Next time,
when I'm in Bombay, I may want to buy one of those scimitars or Khyber Pass
rifles."
"We only bring selected people here. You are known on the ship, and our
friend recognized you yesterday, so we consider it safe."
Will looked at this man and felt a twinge of regret, knowing at best that he
would probably find himself in jail, but Blyth had indicated that the Goanese was
a calculating and dangerous man, without any scruples, instrumental in the deaths
of quite a few people. Will's attitude hardened again, he had achieved what he had
come for, and had no difficulty selecting one of the many ceremonial daggers on
display.
It was about 12" in overall length with a slightly curved blade, in a soft leather
scabbard, the hilt and point of which was strengthened with fashioned metal,
covered with Indian gold. The scabbard, as well as the curved polished blade, was
adorned with ceremonial etchings. The crosspiece was a pair of Indian cobra's,
and the top of the handle a cast eagle's head, also in Indian gold. It was a
marvellous piece of craftsmanship.
The haggling over the price was far shorter than usual, and five hundred and
fifty rupees was agreed. Will reached into his pocket for his wallet. Releasing the
loop around his neck, and pulling out the wallet still attached to the cord, brought
loud laughter from the two Hindu heavies, and for just a brief moment everything
was cordial.
His purchase was wrapped and placed in a cardboard shoe box, and as Will
moved towards the door, one of the Hindu's stepped into his path. Will's blood
pressure started to rise as the Hindu spoke to the Goanese who replied, and the
Hindu then stepped aside.
"What was that all about?"
"He told me to remind you what would happen if you told anybody." Will
nodded, and this confirmed in his mind that the two Hindu's were indeed muscle
men, and the Goanese the agent.
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
It took no time at all to get back into the street and he felt thankful that he still
had life and limb. There was no sign of Blyth's man and Will speculated that he
would have to try and see Blyth during his remaining two days in Bombay.
The ship sailed on schedule after the troops had embarked. He had been
unsuccessful in contacting Blyth during the final days, spending a lot of time in and
around the vicinity of the Taj Mahal Hotel but he saw no one, and nobody
contacted him, leaving the whole affair up in the air.
He was now on the way home to Liverpool, via Durban and Capetown. In
retrospect, his Bombay adventure had been mild in comparison to Aden, but the
Aden incident had a finality about it that was absent here. There were loose ends
that Will had no control over.
Every day that the ship moved further away from India, was one day closer
to getting clear of the monsoon area, and Will was really looking forward to that.
He hated the combination of heat and humidity.
Land came into sight as the ship travelled parallel with the southern tip of the
Island of Madagascar, with just a few more days sailing to reach Durban. The
monsoon weather had been left far behind them and the air was once again fresh
and clear. South Africa was noted for it's hot sun and low humidity, which suited
Will, and he was looking forward to getting ashore, even though they would only
be in Durban for two days maximum.
When the mail came aboard at Durban Will had a letter from home, but there
was no point in writing back as he would be hopefully on leave in three or four
weeks time. The stay in port was so short Will could only manage one excursion
ashore, which was better than none at all, and they were soon heading into the
dreaded Cape rollers, which were relentless lines of waves, travelling West to East
around the Cape of Good Hope.
The ship would just pitch, associated with a shuddering bang, as it fell into the
next trough, and then over the wave again, like clockwork. Within hours Will was
off his food again, and suffering his usual problem, but something worse had
developed.
The constant jarring of the ship had given him a violent headache, so he made
his way up to the dispensary for tablets, to try to get some relief. Having to wait
for attention he sat down with the others, and glancing around the room caught
65

Will Bonner
sight of the cabin steward who had brought him the message in Bombay, and
instantly their eyes met each other.
He was standing with two other Goanese. One, a big man with a fat stomach,
the other, a weedy looking individual. The two resembled a Goanese replica of
"Laurel and Hardy" Will nodded in acknowledgment and the cabin steward
engaged the other in conversation, provoking them to look in his direction. Will
smiled, but the reaction he got was decidedly hostile, and the Laurel and Hardy
couple hastily left the room, leaving the cabin steward alone, but he was purposely
avoiding Will's presence.
After obtaining pills for his headache Will promptly left the dispensary, making
his way along the passageway to the starboard side, and turned the corner to go
forward towards his cabin. He was gauging the ship's rise and fall, going forward
in short spurts when a few yards ahead, one of the locker doors opened, and
Laurel and Hardy stepped into the passageway.
The fat man was carrying a large kitchen knife, and the size of his body was
practically eliminating the little man from view. Backing away towards the bend in
the corridor, Will glanced down the connecting corridor only to see the cabin
steward bearing down on him from the other direction, forcing him into the corner.
Lunging forward, the fat man grabbed the front of Will's shirt with his left hand,
and bringing up the knife, held it against his throat. He could feel the blade against
his adam's apple. "I'm going to kill you," he shouted in a screeching voice, "you
had my brother put away in jail!"
Will had no time to think, but he was aware that the other two were not armed
and seemed to be standing by, doing nothing.
He stared directly into the fat man's eyes, only inches away, which were
blinking rapidly, and at that moment something inexplicable happened. His fear fell
away, and he could hear himself calling out. "Do it then, do it, do it!" in ever
increasing volume.
A puzzled look came over the fat man's face, and without concern for the
consequences, Will brought his foot back and kicked him in the shin. Reeling
backwards to the other side of the corridor, the fat man's elbow struck the hand
rail, and the knife fell, clattering along the polished linoleum floor.
Will was now getting angry. Here was someone else trying to do him harm,
and he'd had enough. Before fat man could recover, Will punched him as hard as
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he could in his stomach, feeling his fist sink a good six inches into the fat. He cried
out in pain and fell to the floor gasping for breath.
Will heard the little man running away, and the cabin steward was on one knee
reaching to pick up the knife. Will stepped on the fat man on his way over to
prevent the cabin steward from reaching it, kicking him in the back in the process.
"What's going on Will?" It was Blondie Bishop, and with him one of the
medical officers. They were both out of breath from running down the corridor,
having heard the noise from the dispensary.
"Nothing, everything's under control."
The officer spoke. "Go to your cabin Brenner," he ordered, and as Will left the
scene he could hear the fat man groaning his way into an upright position.
Within the hour he found himself on the bridge, in front of the second officer,
Peter Bowles. "You've been in trouble again Brenner," he commenced, "but at
least you don't appear injured this time. Have you an explanation?"
"Yes, Mr Bowles, but first I would like to say that I will never forget what you
did for me in Aden and for that reason I would never embarrass you, let you
down, or lie to you. What happened tonight was a matter of self-defence. I had
no choice."
"There was a knife involved, was that yours?"
"No Sir."
Peter Bowles looked down at his desk, at the notes he had written down, and
Will waited for him to continue. "Look Brenner, there were witnesses so a report
will have to be entered, but there is no point in disciplinary measures. Just try and
keep out of trouble!"
"Believe me sir, that is what I intend to do."
Will avoided passing the steward's quarters on his way back to his cabin. The
Goanese would have lied to Bowles, the truth implicating them. Unless he did
something quick they would have another try, and things could end up worse for
him.
Blondie Bishop was waiting for him, eager for information. "How did you get
on Will?"
"Okay I guess, I didn't get disciplined, just a mention in the report. I'll have to
wait and see how it affects my end of voyage conduct assessment." Blondie was
waiting for more. "It was just a case of defending myself."
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"They sure are an odd trio."
Everyone knew that the Goanese as a race, were for the most part passive,
happy and contented, worked hard and never gave trouble, and Will concluded
that these three were the exception, no doubt a result of their connection in
Bombay, and they must have known the severity of what was going on there. Will
listened as Blondie continued, it was rare for him to be giving information.
"They are never with the others, and you were fighting outside the fat man's
linen locker. Every night between the 8 to 12 p.m. watch, they play cards there."
Thanks Blondie, Will was thinking, that's a prime piece of information!
The crews quarters were buzzing with the news, but Will could bank on the
gossip petering out after a day or two. The incident was minor and not infrequent,
so once everyone found out that it had been just another fight, without blood being
drawn, there would be no more interest. His most predominant thought was the
constant fear of being ambushed again during the remainder of the voyage.
There was no one he could ask for help, but supported by the information
from Blondie, he would have to take some positive action soon. Will decided that
he would go to the locker the following evening and try to eliminate the problem.
The intervening time was an example of what the remainder of the voyage
would be like. Constantly on the defensive, always in the presence of others, never
walking the deck at night, and much more. A virtual prisoner for the next three to
four weeks.
Will sat in his cabin waiting for the appropriate time. The two Scotsmen were
getting some sleep, prior to their twelve midnight to four a.m. watch and Will,
taking his kitbag from the locker removed the contents and turned it inside out.
Roughly sewn into the base was a palm size derringer pistol with an ivory
handle, given to him by someone, as a memento. He had only fired it once before,
just to see how it performed. Refilling the bag and stowing it away, he made his
way up to the fat man's locker.
It was about 10 p.m. and there was no activity in the corridors. Removing the
pistol from his pocket, Will burst through the locker-room door, and as Blondie
had described, all three were playing cards around a small collapsible table.
Practically all the space was taken up by the three men, and the weedy one had
his back to the door.
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Putting an armlock on the weedy man from behind, Will pointed the pistol at
the fat man and pulled back the hammer.
"You bloody well tried to kill me yesterday," he shouted, "now you're going
to pay for it!"
All three were in a state of panic, the fat man's eyes were bulging, and he was
shaking his head from side to side. The little man was pleading for mercy, and Will
knew that he had nothing to fear from him. Keeping the gun pointing at the fat man
and dragging the weedy man to the door, he released the armlock from around his
neck. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you," he cried, disappearing through the
door.
Will moved closer to the remaining two, their heads were pressed against the
linen stacked on the shelves, trying to get as far away as possible.
"I've written a letter to the Provost Marshall in Bombay, telling him all about
you two," Will lied. "If anything happens to me, you'll be put away when you get
back to Bombay, and you will never get to see Goa again. I've explained in the
letter how you are connected, and had it put in the purser's safe until the ship
docks in Liverpool."
The cabin steward started to whimper. "Please don't do anything, you'll get no
more trouble from me." Will motioned toward the door with his pistol, within
seconds he was gone. Will moved even closer to the fat man, who was more
terrified now that he was facing the threat on his own. With the others gone, Will
knew that he had to wind things up quickly and get out of there.
"I had nothing to do with what has happened to your brother," Will lied again.
"He was doing bad things back there in Bombay, and the police have eventually
caught up with him. You are the lucky one!"
The fat man apologized. "I'm sorry, I've made a mistake. I promise nothing will
happen."
Will released the hammer of the pistol making a clicking sound as it passed
over the ratchets. The fat man slumped down over the table, probably relieved that
he was still alive.
If only he knew! He carried no bullets for the derringer because it was an old
calibre, but it was a menacing weapon for it's size. Putting the pistol back in his
trouser pocket, Will quickly left the linen locker-room. The corridor was still
deserted, and he felt himself shivering as he walked briskly back to his cabin.
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It was all over, but he was still not looking forward to the remainder of the
voyage. Reflecting on what he had just done, he began to wonder what sort of a
person he was turning into. If his family knew what he was doing they would be
horrified and ashamed. On the other side of the coin he had to survive, by
whatever means.
The remainder of the voyage offered up no surprises, and there were no
reactions from the three Goanese. As each day passed Will grew more confident,
eventually disregarding any thoughts of reprisals from them.
The ship was now approaching roughly the same latitude as Casablanca, but
a few hundred miles west. The weather was excellent, but as each day went by
and the farther north they sailed, the weather would deteriorate.
Whilst sailing up the West coast of Africa, he had spent many hours, especially
in the late afternoon talking to Wes on deck, but this particular day would
probably be their last opportunity.
"We shall soon be in Liverpool, Wes."
"Yes, just a few more days."
"I should tell you that I won't be signing on for another trip."
"I'm sorry to hear about that Will. I'm going to miss you, especially when we
call at Aden!"
"I guess I won't be forgetting that episode in a hurry, but that is one of the
reasons why I am moving on. Quite a few things have happened on this ship and
by signing off, I am hoping to break this cycle of misfortune."
"You're probably doing the wise thing, anyway it's about time you had a
change. I suppose now that we are sharing secrets I should tell you what I will be
doing when the war finishes," he paused, as if to make certain that what he was
about to say, would not be misinterpreted. "I'll be going to live in Brazil."
"In Brazil?"
"Yes. I met a woman in Rio de Janeiro, and we get on like a house on fire."
"You met a woman?"
"Yes. She's bought a ranch and wants me to help her manage it."
Will took a deep breath, he was getting a surprise in every sentence. "You're
getting married then?"
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"No, it's an arrangement, and I'm really looking forward to getting started. I'll
give you the address and if you visit Rio after the war, would you come and see
me?"
"I'd be delighted Wes, and I'm so happy for you, but I should warn you that
I'm hopeless when it comes to throwing a bolas."
Both men laughed. It was time to get about their respective duties, but Wes
had certainly told Will something that he would think about for a long time to
come.
The activity on board had increased again as the ship entered the St. George's
Channel. They would be docking in Liverpool on the following day and Will would
be staying on board for that night, before going home the day after. He preferred
travelling by day, as he could never sleep sitting up on a train.
It seemed no time at all after dropping anchor outside Liverpool that they were
being piloted through into the dock, and the off duty crew were all frantically
packing, hoping to get away from the ship at the earliest possible moment, after it
berthed.
There was no hurry for Will. He had all day and would catch an early train
from Lime Street Station the following morning, hoping to be home around midday.
It would be a good idea to get signed off early and spend a few hours ashore
before getting his last night's sleep on the ship.
Making his way up to the allotted deck he stood in line with the others to sign
the necessary papers, get his train passes, and pay owing, which took only a few
minutes. Collecting everything together, he was about to leave when he noticed
Wes sitting at a small table in the corner, sorting out his papers.
"So there you are Wes, trying to slip away while my back was turned. What
about that five pounds you owe me?"
Wes smiled. "I'm going early as a matter of fact within the hour, I was just
coming down to see you. Here is the address I promised."
"I guess this is it then Wes."
"Yes, I'm catching a train in two hours. Now don't forget Will, don't go into
the native quarter on your own."
"No Dad, I promise," and the two men laughed, shaking hands.
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Will watched as Wes walked out on deck, his feet, knees and elbows gyrating,
like the levers on a automatic machine, until he finally disappeared down the
stairway to get his gear.
Inside Will’s head he heard a voice whisper.
“Goodbye Wes, the possibility of seeing you again will be very remote
indeed.”
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Chapter 5
Chesapeake Bay
Will was now without a ship. He had reported to the Merchant Navy shipping
pool in London, where he was attending on a day to day basis, hoping to get
allotted a ship, sooner, rather than later. Staying at the Seamen's Mission, close
to East India docks, could be likened to one step up from the soup kitchens, but
it was reasonably clean with meals provided, and it's accommodation served as
a temporary measure during transfer between ships.The rooms resembled tiny, thin
walled boxes in rows, on either side of the bare corridor, allowing the slightest
sounds to resonate through them. No sheets were provided for the beds, just
coarse, dark grey rough blankets, making it necessary to go to bed fully clothed
in order to avoid both chaffing the skin, and getting a poor night's sleep.
This was Will's first transfer experience. As a loner, he always found it difficult
to make acquaintances and he was finding the waiting period tedious. Everywhere
he frequented he would look around, hoping to see a friendly face.
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Will Bonner
Will was trying his hardest to get a ship that was going to the USA. Ships built
there called Liberty ships, were manned by British crews who were transported
over, to bring them back to England.
As each day went by, the possibility of getting one seemed to be more remote.
A further week went by, and he was beginning to resist the urge to be selective.
On the following Monday morning he found himself standing once more in front of
a controller at the shipping pool.
"There's a ship called the "Wiltshire" crewing up," the controller informed him,
"your credentials qualify. Would you like to go down there and have a look?"
What the heck Will thought, why not? "She's berthed at Gravesend, I'll give you
a travel pass for the train. The arrangements will be made for you to see someone
on board tomorrow, at 10.00 a.m. Report back here on Wednesday."
Arriving at Gravesend the next morning Will had no difficulty finding the berth,
but his first sight of the ship came as a shock. It was so small, in comparison to
his previous ship, appearing to be only a quarter of it's size.
A single funnelled motor vessel, with the crew's quarters above decks and
behind the bridge-house, all positioned two-thirds back from the bow. Just four
lifeboats and four Carley floats, indicating a fairly small crew. Taking a second
look, and by now getting used to it's size, the ship looked brand spanking new,
and the shape was pleasing to the eye. Things might be better than I first thought.
I wonder where she's bound?
Once on board Will searched around looking for someone to get directions,
finally approaching a welder doing some repairs on the upper deck. "Are there
any ship's officers about?"
"No, but somebody came aboard about twenty minutes ago, they are in a
cabin at the end of that passageway," pointing to an open doorway.
Will knocked on the door finding that it was a small office-room, and inside
sitting behind a desk was a man dressed in civilian clothes.
"You'll be Brenner I suppose? Come in and sit down, there's no crew aboard.
I'm from the company."
The interview was a formality, followed by a quick tour of the ship, during the
course of which Will was shown his cabin. In comparison to his previous ship, this
cabin was in the luxury class. Just two berths and well equipped with drawers and
locker space.
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"You'll be bunking with Ted the pastry cook," the company man informed
him.
Back in the office Will had been suitably impressed. "Where's she bound for?"
"New York, Norfolk Virginia, and then into the Pacific." Will just couldn't
believe his ears, the company man continued, "but before you sign I have to tell
you that if everything goes as planned, the ship will be chartered for two years by
the Americans, requiring you to sign on for that period. How do you feel about
that?"
What a blow! Just when he had practically made up his mind. Two years was
a long time to be away, and he tried to picture the time in his mind. Just like four
long voyages he thought. That's not too bad, and he would probably see lots of
places in the Pacific.
"Is it a new crew signing on?"
"No, most of them have been with the ship for two or more voyages." That
convinced Will that they must be satisfied.
"I've decided to sign on. When does she sail?"
"In three days, next Friday actually, and you will have to report on Thursday."
Will gasped, things were moving along at a fair pace but he did not feel concerned.
Signing the articles, Will went back down to see his cabin for a longer look before
leaving. It appeared better than before, and if the pastry cook was amiable, he
would be happy bunking there.
Travelling back to London, he realized that he would have no time to see the
family before sailing. The following day would be taken up with signing off at the
Navy office, and getting his gear ready for travelling back down to Gravesend, on
Thursday morning. He would spend a couple of hours writing a long letter to his
mother, but would not mention that he may be away for the next two years.
Time flew by, and Will soon found himself back on the "Wiltshire." He was
now eager to get underway, his mind already projecting to their first stop, New
York. The novelty of the day had been tiring, and after many interrupted nights at
the mission, the cosy surroundings of his new cabin, with clean sheets and blankets
on his bunk, felt like heaven. This was going to be his best night's sleep since
getting back from leave.
Awakened by a noise in the cabin, Will opened his eyes to find it was the
vibration of the ship's motor starting up. Realizing that he had slept without
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interruption throughout the night, Will panicked, thinking that it was now past his
time for duty. Glancing at his watch assured him this was not the case, it was only
6 a.m. and the "Wiltshire" was making an early start.
The accommodation was above decks, avoiding most of the noise from the
engines, which had developed a gentle throb as the ship gained speed. It was a
brilliant sunny day as Will walked out on deck to witness the departure down the
Thames estuary. His first duty period started at 12 noon and apart from time out
for breakfast, he would stay on deck until then as he had never sailed out of
England via that route before, and wanted to take in the sights.
The 12 to 4 p.m. watch went very well, with Will still making comparisons with
his previous ship. He was adapting rapidly to the informal atmosphere, and his
place of work situated on the port side, enabled him to look out across the sea,
a privilege he never had before. As he left his watch at 4 p.m. they were well into
the English Channel with the English coast line on their starboard side. The sea was
calm, but looking in that direction the beach seemed perilously close. Will ran to
the rail, joined by others all asking the same question.
"Why are we so close?"
"It's the crazy skipper," someone answered, pointing to the open deck
adjacent to the bridge, "he'll bloody well run us aground if he goes any closer!"
Will looked up to see the captain waving, and glancing across at the grassy
bank that grew down to the beach, he could clearly see a woman, waving what
appeared to be a white flag.
"That's his wife," someone called out, "he's waving goodbye to her. If he
doesn't pull away soon, we'll hit the bottom!"
Apparently, he had done the same thing on previous occasions, and the crew
would get tensed up waiting for the ship to run aground. Captain Angel was a
disciplinarian, with unorthodox methods. Will studied him as he paced backwards
and forwards still waving to his wife, with the navigator probably biting his finger
nails in the chartroom.
He was a man in his mid-fifties, of medium height but very thickset. His gait,
as he walked the deck was timed to robotic perfection. When coupled to his
hunched shoulders and bulldog like appearance, he fitted Ted's description
perfectly. This man, Will supposed, would have fitted most appropriately into the
"Mutiny On The Bounty" film, which featured Charles Laughton, playing the role
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of the hard disciplined captain.
The "Wiltshire" began to pull away from the coastline much to everyone's
relief, and things settled down to routine for the crossing of the Atlantic. If Will
thought however, that life aboard this ship was just going to be mundane he was
very much mistaken. With mixed emotions, he took one last look at the English
coastline, knowing that it would be a long time before he got back home again.
On the morning of the second day out into the Atlantic, the captain was up to
his old tricks. After finding his cabin other than a hundred per cent perfect, he had
literally thrown his cabin steward down the companion way, which was next to his
cabin door. He was demanding that his cabin be properly cleaned out, but no one
would go up there for obvious reasons.
The ship was so small that all the crew knew simultaneously what was
happening at any one point in time, consequently, a small gathering had milled
around waiting for any further action. A very reluctant replacement steward filled
the gap, and things appeared to settle down. The following morning however,
rumours were circulating, and information added by the minute.
"What's happening?"
"Somebody's slipped the skipper a Mickey Finn and he's in a right mess up
there."
As the day wore on the facts began to emerge. The skipper was in a bad way,
and the ship carried no doctor. Some of the more brutal members of the crew
were taking bets that he wouldn't make it to New York. His early morning and late
evening pounding of the deck ceased abruptly, and he never left his cabin. He was
ultimately to be taken ashore in New York and hospitalized, not to be seen again
until later in the voyage.
The final few days before arriving in New York were truly routine, but it was
in the early hours of the morning when the anchor was dropped in the harbour. All
the off duty crew were asleep at the time, but got a rude awakening when ordered
to dress and assemble on the bridge deck. Will looked at his watch as he entered
the room, it was just after 2 a.m. and all the crew members were lined up and their
passports and sailing credentials were being examined by the port authorities. The
men were complaining in no uncertain terms, making the attitude of the immigration
officials far from genial.
Being one of the last to enter the room examining Will's documents concluded
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their scrutiny, but a roar of disapproval met the statement that everyone would
have to be subjected to a medical examination, before entry. All the crew had
been examined prior to leaving England, which their papers proved, so this
unprecedented action was being interpreted by the crew as a reprisal for their
previous show of disapproval.
"We'll begin the inspections in the wardroom," the immigration official said, and
pointing at Will, "starting with you."
"No I refuse. I have my medical clearance, and that's all I need."
One official pointed to the corner. "Stand over there, you will be arrested and
taken off the ship."
A loud voice somewhere from the front of the line shouted, "This is like Hitler's
bloody Germany!" It was the ship's butcher, who was simultaneously taken out of
the line and threatened with arrest. Two more men followed and the rumblings
from the crew intensified. Will, and the other three men were escorted out and
loaded into a launch.
"Where are they taking us?"
"Haven't you heard of Ellis Island? It's where all the immigrants with doubtful
origins go to be investigated before they are let into the USA.”
It was only a few minutes by launch across to the island, and after landing they
were herded into a containment room, which was a fancy name for a cell. Will
stood at the back of the room observing the others. The ship's butcher had taken
off his shoe and was banging it on the door shouting, "Let us out, we're British
citizens, we demand to see an Embassy official!" over and over again, occasionally
turning to the others saying, "I'll make their bloody lives a misery!"
Will looked around recalling his arrest in Aden. This was like taking a holiday
in comparison, he would just sit tight and wait for events to emerge. After the
threats and physical abuse he had received over recent times he was beginning to
get accustomed to taking a degree of punishment. Within the hour, they were being
escorted back to the ship, without any explanation. Once aboard, the noise of the
anchor chains indicated that they were about to get underway again, and Will was
to learn that the ship had been diverted on to Norfolk, Virginia. In the future
someone would ask. "Have you been to New York?" and Will could rightly
answer "Yes", but not committed to say that he had never got ashore!
Needless to say, no one had been medically examined, and the only person
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to be taken ashore was the captain. He would stay in hospital and then recuperate
before rejoining the ship, prior to leaving for the Pacific.
It was a full day's sailing to Norfolk. Arriving once again during the following
night the "Wiltshire" dropped anchor and waited until morning for the pilot to take
her into Newport News.
Once ashore, Will did all things traditional to the American scene. Hot dogs,
hamburgers, and a visit to a drug store for a milkshake. After the food rationing
and austere atmosphere of England, the masses of food and drink was difficult to
comprehend, but firmly suppressing his conscience, Will tucked in, and ate and ate
and ate.
The ship had been in Newport News nearly two weeks and Will had managed
to visit Richmond to see a rodeo show, as well as Norfolk and Virginia Beach on
quite a few occasions, but just when he was getting used to travelling around the
area to see the sights, enjoying what a country, free of wartime restrictions could
offer, orders had been received to move up river to a remote pier, and await
further orders.
The "Wiltshire" soon moved away from the activity of Newport News into
Chesapeake Bay, finally tying up at a quiet landing, completely surrounded by the
most beautiful countryside Will had ever seen.
It was early evening and the sun was receding behind tall pines, weaving areas
of shadow. The cook appeared at the ship's rail alongside Will. "What a God
forsaken hole this is, I"ll be glad to see the back of this place!" He looked across
at Will expecting a response. A typical city man's shallow view of nature, Will
thought.
"This place is heaven on earth, enjoy it while you can."
"Enjoy what? There's bloody nothing out there!" Will felt sympathy for the
man as he departed for his cabin, grumbling as he went.
Arising very early next morning Will went immediately out on deck, and the
scenery was even more overpowering by daylight. The sun was up in a bright blue
sky and the waters around the ship resembled a sheet of glass, reflecting the
images of the shoreline. The abundance of pine trees appeared to practically
surround the ship, making it an insignificant item in the overall scene.
He was the only person on deck. There was no breeze and everything was
completely still, not even the usual sound of lapping water. Looking past the end
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of the pier into the countryside beyond, Will could see two houses nestled in a
clearing. They were of typical colonial style, and he could make out the bright blue
of a swimming-pool next to the nearest one, each house was surrounded by a low
white picket fence. Scanning the area for signs of life, Will noticed a movement at
the end of the pier and became aware of a small wooden hut that had previously
escaped his attention, from which two American servicemen had emerged.
They were dressed in standard duty uniform, a short waist length tunic,
buttoned knee high gaiters, and wearing the well known G.I. steel helmet. Each
was wearing a holstered side-arm attached to a lanyard in the usual way, around
the shoulder. Will descended the short gangway on to the pier and started making
his way towards the G.I.'s who, observing Will's presence, had moved to the
centre of the approach. Will heard the voice of the third officer calling from the
bridge.
"Come back aboard, Brenner."
Will turned and gestured inquiringly. "I'm only going to the end of the pier Sir."
The third officer by this time was leaning over the bridge rail on the port side.
"You'll get instructions later, but for now, stay on board."
"Yes Sir."
An order was an order, and making his way back to the accommodation
deck he found that Ted was up and about.
"What's all this about staying on board?"
"I don't know, apparently we're to be told during breakfast."
As breakfast got underway Will could hear the questioning buzz of
conversation discussing the possibilities, but very soon the dining-room descended
into silence as one of the officers came into the room.
"What I have to tell you will be posted on the bulletin board, so there should
be no need for clarification. We are situated in the middle of a USA Military
establishment, consequently, no one will be allowed past the end of the pier
without special circumstances, or without a USA escort." He paused, and started
to move away indicating that he had finished what he had to say. The buzz of
conversation resumed but before the officer had time to leave the cook’s voice
boomed across the dining-room.
"How long are we going to be stuck here Sir?"
"I don't know, but I would advise that you all go about your routines as though
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you were at sea, and you will find the period more tolerable." With that parting
remark he left the room.
Will quickly finished off his breakfast and retired to his cabin. He always found
that he could evaluate things better on his own without listening to the grumblings
of the crew members. He was well fed, well housed, and he was not out at sea
trying without success to keep his food down. The scenery and weather were
magnificent and he could at least walk along the pier. The only significant
restriction was not being able to walk amongst that beautiful countryside.
The waters around the pier were abound with trout which could be easily seen
in the crystal clear water. Each evening, even with just a primitive line and hook,
enough were caught to provide for the whole crew. As each day went by
however, Will became more and more obsessed with the possibility of getting
ashore, which after two weeks, began to dominate his thoughts.
Always rising very early in the morning, he had noticed no movement from the
guard post at the end of the pier until around 7 a.m., but was aware that the
possibility of getting past them via the pier, at any time of day, would be
impossible.
His plan was simple. He would go ashore through the water, and return during
the early hours on the following morning, via the same route, on the blind side of
the ship.
Wearing gym shoes and his work gear, he had obtained some cheese rolls
which were wrapped in greaseproof paper and tied in a bundle on top of his head.
Moving his arms and legs just enough to keep afloat, he made his way around the
ship to the pier. Swimming from one pier support to the next, he waited each time
for a couple of minutes to listen for any movement from the guard hut, but heard
none. After a few more stops he estimated that the guards were immediately above
and he could now stand up in the water.
His heart began to pound, making it difficult to hear other noises. Once clear
of the water he was able to sit on the grassy approach to remove his shoes and
empty out the water. From that point on, the going was quiet and easy. Will soon
found himself amongst the pine trees, the sun just beginning to appear, casting
angled shafts of sunlight through the trees and across the ground.
Sounds from various types of birds echoed through the stillness, alerting him
to look out for the presence of wildlife. The ground, as far as he could see was
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covered with pine needles, like a continuous hessian carpet, which made walking
easy. With his back to the position of the ship Will headed towards where he
thought the main road to Williamsburg would be, where later on in the morning, he
hoped to find a convenience store. After awhile it became quite warm, and with
his clothes now almost dry, he was beginning to enjoy his new found freedom from
the confines of the ship.
The road appeared quite suddenly, it's presence masked by the density of the
trees which continued to it's very edge. Will looked left and then right, realizing
that he was on a long bend. Wisps of white water vapour rose an inch or so above
the surface, due to the heat from the sun. Looking in the direction of the sun Will
turned his back to it and began to walk north towards Williamsburg, but after
walking for more than two hours he had seen nothing but forest.
There had been no motor vehicles or any other signs of life on the road, and
approaching a fallen tree on the side of the forest Will sat down for a bite to eat,
and to decide whether to go on, or return to the ship. He had marked his exit from
the trees and knew that he would have to get back to the position where he could
sight the ship, before it got dark.
Finishing off his cheese roll he had decided to walk on for about an hour, and
then retrace his steps. Preparing to move off, he became aware of a motor vehicle
approaching, and felt the sudden impulse to run into the forest which was only
yards away. It may be a local, and I could find out more about the area, he
thought. As the vehicle came into view he realized the mistake he had made.
It was a military jeep with four American servicemen inside and within a few
seconds it pulled up amid a shower of stones on the side of the road, some yards
from him.
They were military police and Will swallowed in nervous anticipation. The
driver and front seat passenger were young men around Will's age, but the two in
the rear seat were much older. All were wearing sidearms and batons.
The two older men leapt from the vehicle as though a state of emergency
existed, both were short and heavy types. One had a face that looked as though
it had been trampled on, heavily jowled, with a flat broad nose that resembled a
gorilla. The other looked handsome in comparison, but it soon became apparent
who was in charge. The gorilla man spoke in a rich southern American accent.
"What are you doing here?"
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"Just walking," Will replied, but was taken completely off guard and had no
time for defence as he felt the blow of a baton glancing off his shoulder and striking
his ear, which began to sting like crazy. Stepping aside, Will felt blood trickle
down his neck and the sensation prompted him to reach up and wipe it away with
his hand.
"Don't be bloody smart with me!" It was the gorilla man again. "You goddam
Pommies need to be taught a lesson. I'll ask you once again, what are you doing
here?" Will hesitated, the anger was beginning to mount inside him and he was
doing his best to quell it, at the same time his instinct was preparing him for more
blows.
"I've told you, just walking," which prompted further blows from the baton
across his body and face, and he realized that both men were now hitting him.
Reeling backwards, Will fell to the ground on his back and looking up he saw the
young driver stand up.
"Steady on Sarge!" he called out, "I think he's telling the truth." This brought
a violent rebuke from the gorilla man, and the young driver promptly sat down with
a sheepish look on his face. Picking himself up, Will felt as though his body had
been trampled on by a herd of cows, but he now concentrated all his attention
towards the gorilla man and his rage was now beginning to surface.
"You're nothing but a pig and a bully!" Will shouted, as he positioned himself
defensively. The gorilla man lunged forward again with his baton, but Will was now
ready to fight back. He saw the surprise on the gorilla man's face as he stepped
forward instead of retreating. Wrenching the baton from his hand he thrust it into
his stomach, then stepping backwards Will threw the baton with all his force at the
gorilla man, momentarily watching it bounce off his upper body. Instantly turning,
Will ran into the forest knowing that he could easily outdistance the older men, and
very soon found himself dodging between the trees at breakneck speed.
I mustn't get lost! he thought, stopping briefly to get his bearings and catch his
breath. Then deciding on a particular direction he moved away again, as fast as his
legs would carry him.
Pictures of the Aden affair kept flashing into his head and his heart was once
again pounding to the limit of it's beat rate. As he ran, the birds were scattering
amongst the trees, and the forest had now changed from a scenic pleasure, into a
nightmare. Stopping once again to catch his breath, Will strained to listen for
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sounds of the soldiers. He could hear brief echoing shouts in the distance, but
failed to pinpoint their direction. Another quick look at the position of the sun
convinced him that he was heading in the right direction, but within minutes he
burst into a grassy clearing. Keeping undercover, Will scanned the area.
A small shack, with outbuildings and sundry farm equipment, could be seen on
the opposite side of the clearing, some four or five hundred yards away, and a
rough road led away through the forest behind the shack. As far as he could see,
from left to right, there was no end to the clearing, indicating that he would have
to proceed directly across the open area at an angle, to keep clear of the buildings.
But it would be a risky venture.
Will sat pondering, at the same time watching for signs of life, but there was
none. The prospects for sitting it out until dusk were remote, and he knew that he
would soon have to move on. Taking one last look over the open area he was
about to take off when suddenly the jeep appeared on the road behind the house.
Will froze, and then stepped back deeper into the cover of the trees.
The two young soldiers got out and approached the house. Thank heavens
I didn't go! Will thought, as a man appeared and obviously engaged the soldiers
in conversation, occasionally pointing around the clearing towards the trees.
Disappearing back inside he reappeared carrying a shotgun, and getting into the
jeep with the others, they drove back up the road into the forest.
Will shivered at the thoughts that were going through his mind. What provoked
the man to get his shotgun? He was probably taking the soldiers to places in the
area wellknown to the locals, and guessed that had there been others in the shack,
they would have appeared when the jeep arrived. With his heart pounding, Will
strode out into the open, feeling with every step that he was being watched by a
thousand eyes, but he knew that it would be fatal to start running, which would
only tend to highlight his position.
At the point of no return he was practically a nervous wreck, furtively looking
in every direction as the tension continued to mount, the desire to run almost
engulfing him, but each step was now taking him closer to his objective and he
slowly began to take control of his panic.
Approaching the rear of the outbuildings, Will stopped to take a final look
around when the still air was shattered by the loud barking of a dog coming from
inside the buildings. Rooted to the spot, he knew that he should be on the move,
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but it was as though rigor mortis had set in. All his muscles, including those in his
face, had frozen.
The banging of the shack door shocked his system back to reality as a man
appeared running outside, carrying a shotgun. Will took off towards the cover of
the buildings, but not before he heard the roar of the gun and a sound that was
familiar to him, which were dozens of fast fizzing sounds of the lead shot as it
spread out behind him. Will had heard it many times before, during the pheasant
and partridge shoots, as a boy back in England. Now at top speed the distance
between him and the edge of the forest was closing fast, and looking behind, he
could still see the man running with his gun at the ready, but to Will's relief he had
not had time to let the dog out.
Within yards of the trees an instantaneous bang and a more intensive
cacophony of fizzing sounds erupted and Will this time, felt a biting sensation in his
left leg. He knew that he had picked up a stray pellet or two, but it was not
impairing his ability to run, and very soon he was amongst the trees. Getting
enough cover behind him Will stopped to inspect his leg, and found four reddish
marks, two in the lower thigh, and two in his calf.
Blast! I'll have to get medical attention before any poisoning sets in, and
starting to run again it seemed only minutes before the banks of Chesapeake Bay
appeared and Will drew a sigh of relief. He knew that all he had to do now was
follow the shoreline to his right, which would take him back to the ship.
The pellets in his leg were now beginning to sting, warning him of the urgency
to get back, but before he had time to move a large dog bounded through the trees
towards him and he recognized the breed as a pointer, or an American bird dog.
Will knew what he had to do to prevent getting bitten. Stand perfectly still,
show no fear, and try to exert some authority. But things were happening too
quickly as the pine needles scattered in all directions, and the dog nipped at his
trouser leg, tearing it as Will stepped back. Keeping his hands high he shouted,
"back, back!" as loud as he could. The dog moved back some three feet or so
with it's head thrust forward in typical pointer stance.
"Goddam it, he knows how to handle my dawg!"
Will looked up to see the farmer with his shotgun now pointed at him,
accompanied by the two elder M.P's, gorilla man and his associate, both with their
service pistols drawn. The farmer took charge of his dog and gorilla man spoke,
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making a menacing movement with his pistol.
"Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head," he ordered. Will
did as he was told, as he felt the pinpoints of shot in his leg burning, and he was
quickly checked for weapons. "What do you have to say for yourself now?"
"Just one thing. What's it feel like to have less intelligence than a bird dog?"
referring to the dog's ability to track him down. Will felt the full force of gorilla
man's army boot in his side, sending him rolling in pain amongst the pine needles.
He rolled over and looked up.
"You're a bigger pig and bully than I called you before!" Will shouted, rolling
over again to try to avoid another kick as he felt the boot glance off his shoulder
and across his cheek, followed by several more blows as he lay on the ground.
They were sharp and short on contact and Will realized that he was being hit with
the pistol and he was scared stiff that the gun would go off. Finally, crawling
temporarily out of harms way, he half sat up in a daze as the farmer spoke again
in a rich southern accent.
"They Limey's are sure divils for punishment, ain't they?" But his voice was
hesitant and uncertain, indicating that he was not too happy with what was going
on. Before any further responses occurred the young driver of the jeep appeared,
and looking at Will intently turned to gorilla man.
"Sarge, this man is injured!"
Will interjected. "I've been shot in the leg by him," pointing to the farmer.
The farmer was taken aback and pointing to gorilla man, shouted. "You told
me he was a spy!"
Gorilla man went berserk, and shouted profanities at the jeep driver. "Get
back to the jeep, I'll deal with you later!"
"Yes Sir." The young soldier disappeared quickly down an incline nearby.
The M.P's took Will by the arms and pulling him to his feet forced him in the
direction that the jeep driver had taken. Every step was a painful experience and
trying to negotiate the incline he fell once again, rolling down to the bottom of the
slope, stopping only a few yards from the jeep, which was parked on a track
leading to the water's edge.
The two young M.P's were seated in the front of the vehicle and Will was
picked up and thrown into the well section face downwards, between the front and
rear seats. The two older M.P's jumped into the back seat using Will as a foot
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rest, the jeep reversed, turned, and made it's way up the rough track towards the
road.
Every once in a while he could feel the weight of gorilla's boots, rising and
falling like sledge hammers, on his neck and back, as he vented out his anger on
him. The pitching and rolling of the jeep changed to a steady vibration, indicating
that they were now back on the tarmac road. Will was constantly bracing himself
against the hammering from the boots, determined not to let one single cry escape
to give pleasure to the gorilla man, but it seemed to be unrelenting and he was
beginning to wonder whether he would be able to see it through.
The jeep skidded and came to a halt. Due to his vigil, and coping with the
abuse he had been receiving, Will had not been able to consider his plight. Feeling
a grip around his ankles, he steeled himself as he was pulled out of the jeep like a
log of wood, his chin striking the doorstep, snapping his head backwards as he fell
on to the roadway on his stomach and chest, sending shock waves of pain through
his body. Trying to get up on his knees he felt the force of another kick in the side
of his ribs, but he had now reached the point of tolerance to the abuse, that he no
longer felt the pain, only the impact. Eventually, getting on to his hands and knees,
the scene which confronted him was familiar. He was back at landing and the ship!
Unable to get to his feet at that time, Will continued to crawl past the guards
at the end of the landing. What was happening seemed unbelievable to them and
they remained rooted to the spot. Even though he felt sick and exhausted, the mere
fact that he was within sight of the ship gave Will new life. Finally managing to get
to his feet, he staggered uncertainly down the wooden planking of the landing
towards the gangway, when he became aware of someone staggering towards him
in the opposite direction.
It was the second officer, and as he passed him Will could see the fixed look
of anger on his face. Turning to see where he was going, Will lost his balance, and
he fell to a sitting position where he watched the second officer making his way
down the landing, and saw to his amazement that he had a large calibre service
revolver in his hand.
The jeep with the M.P's inside was at that time reversing to make their exit, but
the second officer raised the gun, cocked it, and fired two shots into the air. The
M.P's in the jeep jumped out and took cover, and the two guards ran into their
hut.
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It was like watching a movie, but now there were several crew members
gripping Will's arms and legs, lifting him into the air to carry him back on board to
his bunk. The activity around him was now intense, but Will could feel his body
starting to shake, and no matter how he tried, it seemed impossible to stop. He
was not aware that he was going into shock.
A doctor from shoreside arrived quite soon. He was a small, thin, quietly
spoken man, dressed in a light cotton suit and carrying the usual black bag. The
severe shivering, had by now subsided into a mild tremor. After an examination
and first-aid to the various cuts, it was ascertained that the shotgun pellets were
only just under the surface of the skin, and they could be removed on the spot. His
body was covered in red weals from the baton, gun and army boot, but the skin
under his clothes had not been broken. He was going to have multiple bruises for
some time to come. The cuts on his lip, face and ear had swollen, and looking in
the mirror he resembled a prize-fighter that had taken a heck of a lot of punishment
in the boxing ring! It hurt to laugh or smile as his sense of humour began to return.
“There’s nothing broken,” the doctor concluded, “I’ll need to see you again
in a couple of days. Do you wish to file a formal complaint?” Will hesitated, it had
not entered his mind. After a prolonged pause the doctor continued, “You have
genuine cause, but in any case, I will have to put in my medical report for the
record.”
"No, I don't think I will. I was at fault for disobeying orders in the first place."
"But that didn't warrant the beating you received," the doctor countered, "in
the meantime, should you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me."
Directly after the doctor had gone the second officer appeared, and Will soon
concluded why his step had been so uncertain when they passed on the landing.
The smell of whisky permeated the cabin.
"How are you faring Brenner?"
"I'll survive sir, but I disobeyed orders. What's going to happen to me now?"
"Nothing, unless the American military brings it up and under the
circumstances, I don't think they will. Your escapade has created quite a stir out
in the community, and I think it will result in us being allowed ashore from now on."
"Perhaps threatening them with a loaded revolver might have had something
to do with that!"
The second officer smiled. "Just you take things easy for a day or two, but you
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can rest assured that we won't be taking the matter any further, as far as you are
concerned."
As he departed towards the cabin door Will called out, "Thank you, Sir!"
What a relief! he thought, as the cabin finally became silent. His aches and
pains were now coming to the fore but the feeling of exhaustion soon took over
and he fell into a deep sleep. Awakening abruptly the following morning, he soon
discovered that his body had completely stiffened up. Painfully and slowly, he
made his way through to the dining-room for breakfast, where he was inundated
with questions. The chef, came through from the galley.
"Have you heard?" he called out loudly, "it's fairly definite that we will be
allowed ashore for the remainder of our stay here. Sorry you had to get beat up
Will, but we all think it was worth it!" Everyone roared with laughter. During
breakfast, a few remained around his table trying to extract all the details. Will just
gave them an outline of what had happened and from that point in time things
started to get back to normal.
Back in his cabin Will decided to write a letter home, he had hardly started
when he was interrupted. "There are people from ashore to see you, they are in
the captain's cabin." What now? he thought. I hope there's no further trouble as
he would dearly like to see the whole affair behind him.
Making his way up the stairway to the bridge he knocked on the captain's
cabin door, not knowing what he would encounter. Feeling the same sensation he
had experienced prior to his interrogation in Gourock, he tentatively opened the
door and stepped inside. Everyone looked up as he entered.
The second officer was busy talking to two ladies, and a wiry looking man, he
recognized instantly as the farmer who had shot him in the leg, standing to one
side, obviously dressed in his Sunday best for the occasion. The two ladies were
both dressed in floral costumes, one was of large stature, the other petite, wearing
glasses. Both Will estimated, were in their late forties or early fifties.
"These people have asked to have a word with you Brenner," and the second
officer gestured towards them as he left the room. Will was totally unprepared for
what was about to happen next.
The petite woman looked across the room at Will's swollen face and burst into
tears. She was quickly consoled by the other woman as Will stood transfixed, not
quite knowing what to do next. But the farmer approached him.
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"I've come to say how sorry I am for what happened, and to ask what I can
do to put things right." Will knew that the Sergeant he called Gorilla man had
instigated the violence in the whole affair, and this individual had been caught up
in the fever of the moment.
"It must have taken some courage for you to come here, that puts things right
for me. I've already put the incident behind me and I won't be making any
complaint." Both men shook hands and the farmer left. By this time the petite
woman had composed herself and Will thought she was about to speak, but the
larger women took over the ongoing conversation.
"I'm Mrs. Marcini and this is my neighbour Mrs. Jurgins. We saw what
happened at the end of the landing yesterday, and we are all ashamed. The doctor
told us about your injuries and that you would not be putting in a complaint to the
military." She hesitated for a moment and then carried on, "We have all been up
to the Military Police barracks early this morning to complain, and the sergeant
involved is to be disciplined and transferred. The young jeep driver told his
superiors what had happened."
Will was surprised how quickly these women and obviously the rest of the
local community had responded to the situation, and in such a positive way. She
had more to say.
"Arrangements are being finalized today, giving all the ship's crew permission
to go ashore wherever they want. My house is the one closest to the ship, the one
with the swimming pool and I invite you to use it whenever you want, but first
would you come over for a visit and a meal?"
"I'd be delighted." The petite woman finally spoke, and in a faltering but firm
voice, she reinforced her friend's statements.
"We mustn't let you go back home to England thinking badly about us."
Back in his cabin Will lay on his bunk, the recent happenings going around in
his mind. The local women had brought things to a conclusion for him, he now felt
relaxed and content in his mind, and was looking forward to the remainder of his
stay in Chesapeake Bay.
The following afternoon and evening was spent at the house with the
swimming-pool. On the ensuing days Will would arise each morning around 5 a.m.
and run across to the pool for a swim and coupled with his walks through the
forest and countryside, they were happy days.
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A visit to the old colonial town of Williamsburg was a memorable occasion,
one he would never forget. In comparison to before the incident with the military,
the days now seemed to fly by, and in no time at all, extra activities on board,
coupled with the usual rumours, indicated that the captain was coming aboard the
following day, and they would be sailing the morning after.
Will went over to say goodbye to the locals he had met, and to thank them for
their hospitality. His injuries were now well on the mend and he decided to walk
over to visit the farmer. Breaking into the clearing in the forest Will could see him
working on a piece of machinery, and as he approached the bird dog started to
bark, but this time ran forward wagging it's tail. The atmosphere, in comparison to
his previous visit was serene, and he spent a pleasant hour chatting with the farmer
before starting back.
Early next morning the "Wiltshire" pulled away from the landing. Will stayed
on deck until the beautiful scenery of Chesapeake Bay receded out of sight, then
set about his normal shipboard duties. The weather was to remain bright and
sunny, and in a few days they were passing through the Bahama Islands to The
Windward Passage off Haiti, on their way to the Panama Canal. Fires could be
seen burning along the coast, which was apparently the sugar cane fields being
burnt off, before cropping.
The day to day routine was giving Will plenty of opportunity to look back at
his visit to the USA, and prior to that, his experiences at Gourock, Algiers, Aden
and Bombay, which were all connected, but this latest affair was also an incident
with violence, although brought about by his own actions. He felt relieved that
every mile westward seemed to take him farther away from the Ferret man's
influence.
With the Panama Canal behind them the "Wiltshire" set course for Honolulu.
Will found it hard to comprehend how fortunate he was that he would soon be in
Hawaii, and amongst other things he would be walking on the famous Waikiki
beach. If only it were tomorrow.
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Chapter 6
Hawaiian Assignment
After leaving Panama the ship had hardly settled down to routine when Will
was called before the captain regarding the incident at Chesapeake Bay. Standing
on the other side of the desk from him Will's original impressions were reinforced.
The rigid and pugnacious atmosphere that surrounded him was even more
apparent at close quarters. All he wanted however, was clarification of the report
about the affair that he had just got around to reading. Will received no reprimand,
and he left the cabin with his opinion of the captain somewhat elevated.
The ship's engines had completely broken down in mid Pacific, drifting
aimlessly for one night and one day until repairs had been effected. They were now
being subjected to large swells that very soon put Will off his food, and his sea
sickness returned with a vengeance. The ship however, was only about a day or
so out from the Hawaiian Islands group, which apparently had the effect of
breaking up the current, creating the swell, consequently, Will only had to tolerate
his nausea for a short time.
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On it's approach to Honolulu the ship rounded Diamond Head, it was late
morning and the view was spectacular. Very soon they were tying up at a berth
close to the Aloha tower, a tall square building some 10 storeys high. Clocks on
all four sides had the word "Aloha" printed on the balconies above them.
Originally, it was the tallest building in Honolulu, and so well known that it was
regarded as the Hawaiian equivalent of the "Statue of Liberty" in the USA.
Will was eager to get ashore, but his duties were erratic for the remainder of
the day which would have meant a very short excursion. I'll wait until tomorrow
to get a full day ashore, he thought. There was no hurry, the ship would be here
for at least a couple of weeks, giving him plenty of time for sightseeing.
The following morning Will left the ship to go into downtown Honolulu, only
fifteen to twenty minutes walk away. It was much like any other American city,
and spending the day going through the shops was just as tiring. The day was
rounded off by a visit to one of the best movie theatres he had ever seen. Next day
he decided to go farther afield to see the beaches and scenery for which Hawaii
was famous.
One place he had always wanted to visit was the Royal Hawaiian Hotel and
also Waikiki Beach, which were both prominent in his mind from the films he had
seen. The hotel was known as the "Pink Palace" because of it's pink painted
exterior and Moorish-Spanish architecture with towers, giving it the look of a regal
palace. Arriving at the hotel, he walked through the surrounding gardens which
were filled with palms and brilliantly coloured flower beds, then on to Waikiki
beach, the most famous beach resort in the world.
The scenery, looking across to Diamond Head was breathtaking, and Will
stood there for sometime taking it all in. The weather was brilliant, a clear blue sky
with a slight sea breeze, and the sun was hot but not overpowering. It was late
morning, but there were very few people on the beach, which had the finest white
sand stretching in a long curve towards Diamond Head. After the scene had been
implanted permanently in his mind Will walked back to the front of the hotel. Once
inside, it's pink decor was luxurious and he wandered through the downstairs
rooms noting the shiny black floors and crystal chandeliers. After looking around
he finally settled down in a small room with a bar. Ordering a drink, he found a
table near the back of the room which gave him the full view of all the comings and
goings of customers and staff.
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There were quite a few people, mostly military personnel sitting at the bar and
tables but it was far from crowded. The chairs were very comfortable so Will
relaxed back to sip his drink and observe the scene. Glancing along the bar he
noticed a young man wearing white trousers and a bright floral shirt, a
characteristic dress for Hawaii. He must have been looking directly at Will and
their eyes met. Not wanting to be rude and look away Will nodded slightly, and
within seconds the man was making his way over.
On approach, Will noticed that his walk was light-footed like that of a female,
his features were fine, with a perfect complexion and his grooming immaculate.
Reservations were building up inside, but it was too late for that now as he was
standing right there in front of him. A nervous smile came over his face as he
spoke.
"Hello, would you mind if I sat down?"
"Be my guest." The man sat down and then utter silence continued for some
considerable period. Looking across the table it appeared that the man was
extremely nervous and totally incapable of starting any conversation. As each
second ticked by, things got more embarrassing. Reaching across the table Will
extended his hand.
"My name is Will Brenner."
His hand was thin and the handshake floppy, not firm. "I know your name, and
I know who you are."
Will flinched, he had been taken completely by surprise. "How do you know
my name? I don't know you, what's your name?"
"My name is Gerald," he replied, with an intonation that Will now recognized.
This man is homosexual he suspected, what is he up to? The silence returned and
an atmosphere of tension began to intensify between the two men. Gerald's
nervous disposition was increasing, his eyes rapidly looking up at Will, then down
on to the table. As he lifted his glass to take a drink his hand was trembling slightly.
Completely at a loss and unable to read Gerald's intention, Will got up from his
chair and picking up his drink prepared to leave. "For God's sake, please don't
go." he pleaded.
Gerald's face had turned from a look of nervousness to one of fear, and he
furtively looked around as though to check if anyone had overheard his last
remark. The look on his face compelled Will to sit down and just wait for a
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response, there surely must be one? Gerald finished off his drink and placing the
glass back on the table his hand still quivering, he looked across at Will, and
struggling with the words he spoke again, this time quietly.
"I know that you're with the organization and I've been asked to contact you."
Will felt at a disadvantage. His mind flashed back to ferret man, the correspondent,
Omah and Blyth, but this man was completely out of character.
"I think we should get away from this bar, let's go on to the beach and sort
things out." As they walked out of the hotel and on to the beach Will felt the
impulse to keep his distance. If any of the crew spotted him with Gerald, seeing
his unmistakable walk which obviously put him in the homosexual class, they
would never let him forget it for the rest of the voyage. Keeping to the edge of the
beach and under the palm trees, Will resumed the conversation. "I'm not part of
the organization, but you are."
Gerald hesitated, signs of nervousness showing again. "Yes, I am," he blurted
out, "and I do know that you have been involved also."
"Yes, but I'm not an agent," and as he was speaking it suddenly dawned on
him that perhaps someone had made a mistake in bringing him together with
Gerald. The possibility of finding out more information about the organization
sprang immediately to mind, but this was not the time for questions of that nature.
"Are you going to ask me to do something for you here?"
"No, I need you to do something with me." This was certainly a turn of events!
"Look Gerald, don't push me into anything. You've taken me by surprise. Give
me some breathing space. I'll meet you again right here tomorrow around 11 a.m.
and we'll talk things over.”
Gerald's face took on a scared look. "You're not going to let me down are
you? If you do, we'll both be in a lot of trouble."
Will paused before speaking. "I've been threatened with reprisals before, but
you can count on me being here."
Turning he walked away, the scenic splendour of Waikiki beach taking
second place to the recent happenings. His mind was now fully preoccupied, trying
to come to terms with the fact that here he was again under ferret man's thumb,
even though he was on the opposite side of the world!
What about Gerald? It was impossible to imagine him as an agent, his whole
demeanour was that of a highly strung individual. What am I getting myself into?
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I'll need to know more about him in order to feel secure before getting involved.
These thoughts continued to haunt him until the meeting next day.
Gerald was there as arranged. Will could see him nervously pacing up and
down between the palm trees. The look of relief on his face when he saw Will
approaching was easy to read, but to feel sympathy towards him could be a big
mistake. "Let's walk along the beach and talk," Will suggested.
"I have a better idea. My car is parked outside and I know of a small inlet
where we won't be disturbed. It's only a few minutes drive away."
"Is the car hired?" Will asked, thinking that Gerald was probably from one of
the other ships in the harbour.
"No, I own it."
"You live here then?"
"Yes, I've been here about a year."
Will asked no more questions as they approached the car, a massive two-door
white coupe with the top down, exposing it's vast comfortable interior. He's got
to be working permanently for the organization, Will guessed.
They drove off along the beach road and in the relaxed comfort of the car Will
began to feel the tensions slipping away, as the exotic scenery once again began
demanding his attention. Looking across at Gerald he seemed to sense that he
was also beginning to relax, no doubt he was feeling that the initial contact had
been made, and everything was still on-going.
The car pulled off the beach road into a small picnic area. It had been less than
ten minutes since leaving the Royal Hawaiian Hotel so Will estimated that they
were no more than two or three miles farther along the beach. The area was
certainly secluded and elevated from the road. There were just a few picnic tables
scattered indiscriminately amongst the palm trees, and Gerald made his way over
to one and sat down. Joining him, Will looked below into a small cove with a
sandy beach, a scene that could have come from a tropical island film.
"Would you like a coke Will?" he offered, reaching into the bag he had carried
from the car. They both sat sipping their drinks in silence, but Will knew that very
soon the conversation would get serious again. Taking the initiative, Will asked a
direct and searching question.
"You've been blackmailed into doing this type of work as I have, haven't you?"
Gerald remained silent but the signs of nervousness were beginning to
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reappear. "I'll be blunt," Will continued, "you're homosexual and they are holding
a past activity against you, isn't that the truth?" The agitation intensified, now
becoming quite visible but Gerald still remained silent. It was quite obvious that he
was struggling to cope with the substance of the questions, "furthermore, they have
something about you so devastating that it forced you to accept their proposal to
join the organization." The pressures inside him must have increased to bursting
point. He stood up and turned away with his back to Will in an effort to hide his
feelings.
Why isn't he retaliating? Gerald still remained silent. Am I going too far?
Sympathy returned once again and Will quickly suppressed it. "I don't give a damn
what I'm threatened with, I won't do anything with you unless I know more about
you."
Gerald turned and sat down his head slightly bowed, and eyes fixed in one
position on the table. "Yes, what you say is the truth. I have nowhere to turn, and
do as I'm told. I live in an apartment downtown and work in an office close by.
From time to time I'm asked to gather information."
"From other homosexuals in the military?"
"Yes, just little bits and pieces that I pass on." His head bowed a little further
and Will for one moment thought he was going to burst into tears.
"You haven't asked about me, so I assume you already know."
"Yes, I've been told enough."
"Your friends don't know what you get up to, do they?"
"No, but I haven't many friends. Do you have any?"
"No, I guess you could call me a loner, which is better under the
circumstances." Gerald nodded in agreement. He seemed to be recovering from
the previous session of conversation, and an unusual relationship was beginning to
develop between them. A car appeared in the clearing and a family got out to
picnic.
"We must move away now," Will suggested, and as Gerald walked quickly
towards the car in that typical female fashion Will once again questioned, "what
have I got myself into?"
Very little was said as they made their way back towards downtown Honolulu
but it was Gerald who broke the silence. "We both haven't eaten since breakfast,
shall we stop for a meal?" Will hesitated. The more time he spent with Gerald the
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more chance of someone from the ship spotting them together and asking
questions. The thought of having to introduce him sent shivers down his spine. On
the other hand, Will needed to give him plenty of opportunity to get around
ultimately, to whatever task was ahead. Will's assessment of Gerald so far,
indicated that it would be something that he was not capable of doing by himself.
"Yes, I do feel hungry. Do you know an out of the way place which would not
be frequented by anyone from the ships?"
"I know just the place, and it's only a short distance away, but inland." He
turned at the next side road, heading north into the Hawaiian countryside, finally
pulling into the car-park of a combined restaurant and roadhouse. It was certainly
off the beaten track.
"Where are we?"
"In the Nuuanu Valley area."
It was a delightful place tucked away amongst the trees, it's decor inside,
exactly what one would expect in Hawaii. The people in the restaurant greeted
Gerald genuinely and warmly. He introduced Will, as Will, and there appeared to
be no devious attitudes here. Will settled down at a table in the corner and
watched as Gerald was still engaged in conversation, eventually coming over to sit
down. He seemed to be completely relaxed, amongst what was obviously friendly
surroundings.
"Will, if you ever get into trouble in Oahu, come here and ask for Aki. He's
not here at the moment so I can't introduce you, but he will help you no matter
what the problem is." Gerald looked at Will waiting for a response.
"I understand. Is it safe to talk here?"
"Yes, but don't ask me about the assignment. You're going to be here for at
least another two weeks, but the day after tomorrow your ship will be moved to
Pearl City for the remainder of your stay, which will make it easier for us."
"How do you know about the ship's movements? No one on board has said
anything."
"Your skipper won't know until tomorrow. It's easy for me to get that sort of
information as it doesn't fall into the classified category." A waiter approached the
table carrying two plates. "I took the liberty of ordering for us both, I think you
will enjoy this." Will looked down at the sweet potatoes and sea food with water
melon, pineapple and bananas. It looked very appetizing.
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The two men concentrated on their food and eventually the conversation
resumed as Will talked about his family and upbringing in the country. For obvious
reasons, Gerald was more reticent to impart any information about his background
but Will gleaned that his father was a career diplomat, having served in several
Embassy's abroad. Knowing this, Will realized that Gerald would have a lot of
contacts available to him through his father, and that people like ferret man would
be threatening to expose his homosexual activities to his father's diplomatic world,
which would be disastrous for both father and son.
"During the next few days I will have to get you some local identification. Have
you a head and shoulder photo of yourself out of uniform?"
"No."
Gerald took a card from his pocket. "Go to this photo shop and ask for a set
of passport photos, it's within walking distance of the ship." Then passing another
card to him. "Give them this and leave the photo's at the shop, I will collect them
later."
"I'll go tomorrow before the ship leaves for Pearl City."
It was now getting late. Arrangements were made to meet again in the Royal
Hawaiian Hotel on the third day and Gerald dropped Will off close to the Aloha
Tower, giving him only a short distance to walk back to the ship.
The day had been mentally tiring, and Will made his way to his cabin. Ted was
back and getting ready to settle down for the night. He had been walking nearly
all day and was physically exhausted. It was usual after being ashore to trade the
events of the day, but under the circumstances Will was happy to forego the ritual,
falling off to sleep almost immediately. He was surprised to awake feeling
refreshed next morning after a good night's sleep knowing that the previous day's
events had not apparently affected him.
He had no difficulty in finding the photo shop. It was within easy walking
distance as Gerald had outlined, tucked away in a side street with very few other
shops around. Will could not see any passport photo signs which was unusual for
that sort of shop. The frontage was very small, with a window on one side of the
front door containing a few cameras and other photographic bric-a-brac on
display. Will checked the number on the door against the card that Gerald had
given him and it matched, so he went inside.
He was immediately struck by the semi darkness inside, emphasized no doubt
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by coming in from the brilliant sunshine outside. The dimness was probably a
product of only one small window and just a single lamp hanging over the counter,
situated at the far end of the shop. The entire room carried an air of neglect.
A man suddenly appeared through a doorway behind the counter, his thick
black hair and features distinctly Hawaiian. The floral shirt and black apron
covered a large plump body, but Will was not greeted with the usual smile.
Instead, the man just stood there waiting with a half frown on his face.
"Could you do a set of passport photos for me?" Will's enquiry brought
questions about his nationality, residential status, etc. in a deep voice with an
American accent. A negative answer only served to deepen the frown on the
shopkeeper's face. On producing Gerald's card however, the atmosphere abruptly
changed and quickly shuffling to the front of the shop, the Hawaiian flipped over
the closed sign and locked the front door before returning to the counter.
Looking directly at Will he just waited for a further response. Disconcerting
thoughts were now beginning to develop in Will's mind. Why has he locked the
door? It seemed a devious action to take.
"Look," Will finally remarked, "I've been recommended to come here and I
have given you the card, if you don't want to do the job let me out of here." The
fat man shrugged his shoulders and pointing to the door at the back of the shop,
indicated for Will to go through.
The room was small and completely cluttered except for an open area in the
corner. A not so white card about 4 foot x 3 foot was pinned to the wall with
drawing pins, and immediately in front was an adjustable stool positioned close to
a camera on a tripod. The set-up could not be mistaken for any other purpose than
taking passport photo's and the rest of the equipment lying around, including a light
box, indicated that some form of art work was in progress.
Will sat down on the stool and the fat man adjusted the camera. After the flash
he was ushered back into the shop to wait. Will could hear activity coming from
the room at the rear as he looked once again around this dark and dismal place.
Gerald would surely have his reasons for getting the photo's done, and it was
probably best at this stage that he was not aware of the details. The fat man
reappeared behind the counter. "That will be two hundred bucks."
Will was taken aback. "No, I've given you the card, the photo's will be picked
up and paid for then." The fat man insisted. "I must have the money now, or else."
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"Or else what, will you call the police?"
The fat man's face took on a sinister look and within seconds another man
appeared. Where did he come from? flashed through Will's mind and he quickly
glanced around the room looking for another door, but could see none. He must
have been in the shop all the time Will concluded, it wouldn't be difficult to hide in
such dim surroundings. The man was well built but not fat and he moved closer to
where Will was standing.
Here I am, through no fault of my own being menaced again and he was
getting annoyed. He turned towards the fat man, at the same time keeping a wary
eye on his partner.
"What you are doing has got nothing to do with me. If you take this any further
you'll be in deep trouble, I can assure you. Tell your partner to back off, I'm
leaving now."
The fat man gestured and his partner stepped back a couple of paces, and
walking backwards towards the door, Will lifted the latch and seconds later found
himself back on the street.
Taking deep breaths he lifted his gait to a half run in an endeavour to get as
much distance as he could between him and the shop. Turning the corner into the
main street he was now in a populated area and feeling more secure slowed down
to a walk. I'll have Gerald for this! he thought. He should have organized things
better, and once again began to question his own safety in any dealings with him.
The information that Gerald had given him turned out to be true, and on the
following day the ship moved away from the dock in Honolulu to go to one in
Pearl City, just a few miles away. As the ship was slowly turning in the confines of
the harbour opposite Aloha Tower, Will stood on deck watching the activity. A
large tug was moving towards the "Wiltshire" at a fair pace, it's bow wave quite
evident, indicating it's speed.
They moved to the port side to get a better look and by now the tug was close
enough to be able to see the skipper standing on the short upper deck in front of
the wheelhouse. Perched on a locker, with his front paws resting on the rail, was
a small white terrier dog with a black patch around one eye.
The "Wiltshire" was practically at a standstill now, but the tug, still steaming at
full speed, was showing no signs of changing course. Someone shouted, "Hit the
deck Will, he's going to ram us!"
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Will lay prone on the deck as the ship shuddered with the impact, and looking
up he saw the little white dog flying through the air, landing amongst the coiled
rope lines on the bow. Suddenly, the deck crew of the "Wiltshire" were running in
all directions. Will looked over the side, fully expecting the tug to be taking on
water, but apart from a damaged bow everything seemed to be in order and the
little dog could be seen scurrying back towards the wheelhouse, seemingly unhurt.
Divers were sent down to inspect the "Wiltshire's" hull for any damage to
report to Lloyds of London, who would be informed for insurance purposes.
Fortunately, it was quickly ascertained that the ship was not taking in any water
and eventually continued on it's way to berth in Pearl City.
The area surrounding the new berth was largely taken up by US navy vessels.
On taking a short walk ashore, Will soon found out that they were quite close to
the US Forces Pacific Headquarters and on one occasion observed high ranking
officers coming and going to a large colonial style building, nestled amongst lots of
large palm trees.
Getting back to Honolulu to meet Gerald on the following day was more time
consuming by bus, but not problematic. He was there waiting, pacing back and
forth between the palm trees, as before. Will stood for awhile, out of sight
observing him, eventually moving into view to put him out of his misery.
"You damned near put me into a right predicament at the photo shop, why
didn't you organize it better? The whole thing nearly got fouled up!"
"I'm sorry Will, I've done plenty of work through him and things have always
been alright."
"He's doing illegal documents there, isn't he? That's why they got suspicious
of me and were about to get physical. In future, we go places together, so you can
take your share of the heat."
"Look Will, I can assure you that whatever we do from now on we'll do it
together. Let's go some place where we can talk."
They were soon speeding through the Hawaiian countryside again in Gerald's
white coupe and Will settled back into the big comfortable seat. They seemed to
be getting deeper into the countryside with less signs of habitat, the growth was
lush and colourful with African tulips and many other flowers, all intermingled with
fern, Banyan trees, and a Norfolk Pine occasionally towering over the roadway.
At that moment the car pulled into a clearing, and Will recognized immediately
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that they were back at the restaurant and roadhouse in the Nuuana Valley but had
approached it from the opposite direction.
"This is one place I can rely on," Gerald remarked, as they got out of the car
and went inside. This time Aki was there and Will was introduced. Around 40
years of age Will guessed, typically Hawaiian with a wonderful sense of humour
and always smiling. After a period of general conversation Aki left, leaving Gerald
and Will at the table.
"What does he know about what you do?"
"Only just enough to retain his support. I can get him quite a lot of business
without much effort so things work both ways."
"He can be trusted then?"
"Yes."
They both settled down to a mid-day meal during which time very little
conversation took place. The restaurant had started to fill up and Gerald suggested
that they move away to a more secluded area for coffee. Guiding Will to a room
at the rear of the premises they both went inside. "This is one of Aki's offices that
he rarely uses, we will be okay here."
The room was a fair size, about 20 foot x 12 foot but had no windows, the
fresh air flow being supplemented by a large ceiling fan and several ventilators.
Local artefact and paintings covered the walls. A solid desk with accompanying
chairs was situated at one end of the room, with a large coffee table surrounded
by four easy chairs at the other. The abundance of wall hung items, combined with
a large square carpet which nearly covered the floor area, contributed to the
acoustic deadening in the room, providing some security against conversation
being overheard. The only predominant sound was the gently swishing of the fan
as it slowly cut through the air.
As Will walked around the room discussing the various items with Gerald, the
door opened and a girl entered carrying a tray which she placed on the coffee
table and then left, quietly closing the door behind her. Gerald made himself
comfortable in one of the easy chairs and Will, choosing the chair opposite him,
sat down. After pouring the coffee Gerald appeared to be getting uptight again, as
he had on previous occasions when it was necessary to get down to practicalities.
It had become apparent to Will by now, that he probably had a select group
of people he could use for obtaining information, keeping him in good faith with the
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organization with very little stress, but this time he was obviously being asked to
do something that was out of his depth. Gerald continued to nervously fidget and
Will felt compelled as before, to break the silence.
"For heaven's sake Gerald, is the assignment so dangerous that you can't bring
yourself to tell me about it?"
"It could be, but it's something I've never done before."
"Carry on and tell me everything."
"The organization want to get their hands on some information that is sitting
inside US Pacific Headquarters. I normally get everything passed along by word
of mouth, but this time they want hard copy of actual documents, and I can’t ask
my contact inside to get them out for me.”
“How many documents?”
“Just two. We have to go in there, photocopy the two pieces of paper, and
bring them out.” Pausing, he looked at Will, the worried expression on his face
painted the picture that he was already tortured by the forthcoming event, and he
was expecting some sort of response.
"Just tell me how you intend to do it, what the risks are, and don't skip over
the details. I can't get caught again with the impression that things are going to be
straightforward, you must promise me that."
Gerald pulled himself together and carried on, explaining that he had a single
contact in the main administrative building. This contact would leave the two
pieces of information on an open desk, next to some electrical components, in a
room within reach of a copying machine, but only for a short period of time.
Gerald would copy the information in reduced format so that it could be easily
concealed.
Will would look at the equipment as though in the process of repairing it,
should anyone appear on the scene. Service orders from the company who
supplied the equipment had already been obtained, also passes to go through the
main gate. To Will, everything seemed to be getting over complicated.
"Does your contact have the authority to remove the items from the file?"
"Yes, he is signing items out on a regular basis for various reasons, and
recording them back to file again. They will be amongst many on that day, so
things will not be out of the ordinary."
Will listened and had no difficulty in foreseeing the possible dangers, but one
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thing seemed obvious to him. Waiting for a break in the conversation Will asked.
"If everything is so well organized why do you need me? Surely your contact could
copy the documents himself and just pass them on to you, once you were inside."
Gerald shrugged his shoulders and Will carried on further. "It's just not good
enough Gerald. This is your contact's idea isn't it?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. He's doing absolutely nothing that would put him in harm's way,
but you and I are exposing ourselves to danger whilst we are inside, and also to
being identified afterwards. We are putting our heads in the lion's mouth while your
contact runs and hides, with little or no responsibility." Gerald remained silent, the
look on his face revealing his thoughts. "He gets paid by the organization and as
far as I'm concerned he'll have to earn his money!"
Gerald was beginning to panic again. "What am I going to do Will?"
At that point in time Will began to see the real possibility of getting himself into
severe trouble, over which he had virtually no control. Looking at Gerald he once
again experienced sympathy for his plight, tending to upset any good judgement
in considering where to go from here.
"Let's spend some time going over the whole thing," Will suggested, but as time
went by and the pro's and con's were discussed the outcome seemed even more
precarious. It was now getting late in the day and Will needed to get back to the
ship to show some sort of normality in his comings and goings.
"Can you meet me tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Where then?"
"I'll park opposite the dock gate around 10 a.m. but not in the white coupe,
it's too conspicuous. Instead, I'll borrow Aki's wagon."
Driving back to the Pearl City area little conversation was exchanged between
the two men as they had exhausted their thoughts, so tomorrow would hopefully
bring fresh ideas.
Will arose early and during breakfast concentrated his mind on the forthcoming
meeting with Gerald, now only three hours away. He had to get as much control
over whatever circumstances could arise for his own well-being, knowing that he
could not rely on total support from Gerald should anything go wrong.
The options were limited. Will felt very uneasy about going through the main
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gate and into the administrative office. If things backfired it would not be difficult
for military personnel to come up with their descriptions. They must get in and out
without being seen Will concluded, and Gerald's contact inside would have to take
on the responsibility of bringing the documents out of the building and into the
grounds. The only problem would be finding a way in and out, but it appeared far
less dangerous than Gerald's plan.
Leaving the dock gate at 10 a.m. Will glanced up and down the street looking
for Aki's wagon, but it was not in sight. Crossing over to the other side he started
walking in the direction of Honolulu, deciding to get well clear of the dock gate to
avoid meeting any of the ship's crew and guessing that Gerald would probably be
coming from that direction.
With the dock entrance still in sight Will looked for somewhere convenient to
stand and wait but at that instant a dark blue pick-up pulled up alongside and he
recognized the driver as Gerald. Will climbed into the passenger seat and the pickup
turned in the road and sped off in the direction of Honolulu.
"Pull into the first available side road Gerald," Will directed. It happened to be
a residential street and the vehicle pulled up alongside a vacant lot. Gerald
switched off the motor and turned to Will with a questioning look on his face.
"I was on my way back to Aki's place where we could talk, or have you other
ideas?"
"We may have to visit a couple of places. Will that be alright with you?"
"Yes, whatever it takes to get things resolved," and starting up the motor they
proceeded east along the highway towards the Nuuanu Valley. It was another
warm sunny day, and even though Will felt the anxieties from the affair that had
overtaken him, it did not spoil the pleasure he derived from viewing the colourful
lush countryside they were passing through.
They went directly to Aki's back room as before, and after a few minutes
chatting with the restaurant staff, Gerald returned with a tray of coffee and
cookies. As the seconds ticked by his nervous fidgeting became apparent again,
indicating his usual reluctance to open the conversation.
"Have any other arrangements been made since we met yesterday?"
"No."
"Have you any ideas of your own?"
"No."
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Will was beginning to lose his patience. "I've a good mind to turn my back on
the whole affair before I get myself into severe trouble," he threatened, standing up
to reinforce his point.
Gerald's head was characteristically bowed, his eyes focused once again down
on to the table showing that his mind had reached an impasse. He looked up at
Will. "Please don't do that Will. I wouldn't be able to carry on and the
consequences could be disastrous for me."
Will walked around the room looking at the native shields and spears exhibited
on the walls. The two men remained silent, but even as he was objecting to the
way things were developing, Will knew that he too was under the influence of the
organization and the affair would ultimately have to be resolved. He turned to face
Gerald who was now looking up at him with an expectant look on his face.
"I'll tell you what I think we should do, and then you must make up your mind,
or come up with something better."
Gerald nodded his head vigorously in agreement, his facial expression changing
to one of relief, probably at the thought of things now proceeding forward again.
There was a knock on the door and Aki appeared, his smiling face and jovial
manner completely changing the whole atmosphere, and very soon everyone was
affected. They all retired into the restaurant for lunch. Aki's interruption could not
have come at a better time, and Gerald was now enjoying the company of his
friends who were constantly engaged in active conversation with him. How
wonderful these circumstances would have been for Will, without the threat of this
clandestine affair hanging over his head.
Aki bounced back to the table. "Enjoying your meal Will?"
"It's really good. Can I bring the ship's cook here for a few lessons? Failing
that, could you find me a job here?"
Aki jumped up calling out to everyone and pointing to Will, "He wants a job
here! I'll say yes, on one condition."
"What's that?"
"That you marry one of my daughters," he said beckoning to one of his
Hawaiian girls standing by the counter. She came over and stood in front of Will's
chair as everyone's eyes turned to him, his face blushing a bright red.
The girl placed a lei around Will's neck and a spontaneous clapping and
cheering seemed to come from every direction. Quickly extraditing himself from
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that embarrassing moment Will, with Gerald not far behind, retired to the back
room. Both men were feeling much better now and Will did not want to waste any
time in getting the conversation underway, to lose the advantage of a congenial
atmosphere. But before he could speak it was Gerald who took the initiative.
"They told me that you managed to see your way through some awkward
situations. If you could do that for me I would be forever in your debt."
Will paused before answering. "You must understand Gerald that everything
I did centred on getting myself out of trouble, and there was only myself involved,
just me to worry about, no one else. I can't predict what will happen until the time
arrives." Will carried on explaining to Gerald what he had in mind. "We must get
into the grounds without being seen. Your contact must meet us at a prearranged
place in the grounds to hand over the documents, and then we leave via the same
route."
Gerald shook his head. "My contact won't agree to that."
"He'll have to or the whole things off. We're not going to stick our necks out
any more than is necessary, just to keep him out of trouble. In any case, I want to
see him before anything goes ahead. Just tell him what I have said and if he doesn't
agree to either bringing the documents out into the grounds, or arranging to see
me, I'm not interested, whatever the repercussions might be."
Gerald gestured as though to speak but Will continued, "Believe me, it's the
best for both of us. To get caught inside that military building is a far different cry
to being discovered in the grounds. We can give any old excuse for that but inside
the building we're dead ducks!"
"I know you're right. I'll talk to my contact tonight and if it's convenient we can
arrange a meeting. Is that all we need to talk about?"
"No, there are a couple of things. The first is the matter of the negative from
my photo. Do you have it?"
"No."
"Then we'll have to go and get it, preferably before I see your contact, but
don't tell him about the negative and don't contact the shop."
Will knew that the men at the shop were rough characters, and they could
expect the worst, but he wouldn't say anything about that until later when they
parted at the dock gates. Dusk fell during the journey back to the ship, and the
twinkling of lights scattered amongst the trees and shrubs, highlighted the natural
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beauty of the place.
As the pick-up came to a stop about a quarter of a mile from the dock gate,
Gerald had not asked him about the second thing he had suggested they talk
about. Knowing his nervous demeanor it would be best left unsaid. Things could
get rough when they went back to get the negative.
"Do you own a gun, Gerald?" Will queried, as he prepared to leave.
"Yes, but I never carry it."
"We will go to the photo shop the day after tomorrow, bring your gun with
you and pick me up at 10 a.m. You can also arrange for me to meet your contact
during that same evening."
Before Gerald could get the opportunity to question him Will jumped out and
headed for the dock gate. He knew that Gerald's mind would be working overtime
and getting fearful by the minute, but he had no other choice. If for some reason
the photo shop was raided by the police, the negative could verify that he had been
there, so he had to get it back at all costs.
During the next thirty-six hours Will tried to keep himself occupied, and most
of the daylight hours were spent visiting various places in the area, rounding off the
day by taking in a late evening movie. After breakfast, on the day he was to meet
Gerald, Will recovered the twin barrel derringer from his bag, preparatory to going
ashore. The feel of it's ivory handle sent shivers up his spine as he instinctively
pictured the need for it's use.
Gerald was waiting this time, still in Aki's pick-up looking awful, his face
drawn with dark circles under his eyes as though he had not slept.
"Before we go downtown pull into the harbour front, down in the Aloha Tower
area." It was only a short distance and Gerald soon pulled in amongst the
warehouses that were for the best part, deserted.
"Did you bring the gun?"
"Yes."
"Show it to me."
He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled the gun out. Will
burst into spontaneous laughter when he saw what Gerald was holding.
"That's the most menacing piece of hardware I have ever seen, you'll only have
to point that thing at someone and they'll die of fright!" Will produced his derringer,
and the comparison was ludicrous. The sight of the two guns in close proximity
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brought more laughter and this time Gerald joined in. Will looked across at Gerald.
"Relax, everything's going to be alright. When we get to the shop, pull up with
the passenger door in line with the shop door and please do as I ask. Whatever
you do don't show any fear, even though you may be terrified inside." Gerald
nodded, but he had that scared look on his face.
The side street was almost deserted as on Will's previous visit, and Gerald
parked next to the footpath and close to the shop door. Will entered the shop first,
but this time he quickly looked into the shadows detecting the dim figure of a man
secreted in the far right corner.
Gerald was following close behind, and Will positioned himself between him
and the man in the shadows as they approached the counter. Almost immediately,
the fat man came out of the back room nodding in recognition, but without saying
a word. Will broke the silence, but even though he was speaking to the fat man,
his eyes never left the corner of the room.
"I've come for the negative from the photo you took of me the other day." The
fat man shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.
"No, I can't do that."
"We're not going to leave until we have the negative, so get it right now!"
Will's voice was raised.
The fat man's accomplice suddenly appeared out of the shadows and
advanced towards them. He was armed with a short iron bar. Will drew the
derringer from his pocket and pointed it at the man's chest but he continued to
come forward. Pulling back the hammer stopped him in his stride.
"If I pull this trigger you'll have a hole in your chest big enough to put my fist
through."
The look of fear on the man's face and his bulging eyes, brought back
memories of the fat Goanese in the linen locker on his last ship. Will turned to
Gerald.
"Go into the back room with him," pointing to the fat man, "and get that
negative, if he gives you trouble show him that big revolver."
Out of the corner of his eye Will saw Gerald disappearing through the rear
door with the fat man and after what seemed an eternity, they reappeared.
"I've got what you want," Gerald called out, holding up an envelope. The fat
man slumped on to a small chair behind the counter a look of despair on his face
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as Gerald moved towards the front of the shop. Will spoke to him as he passed.
"Get into the pick-up and start the motor," he ordered, and Gerald increased
his pace towards the door. Addressing all his attention to the fat man's accomplice,
and with a wave of the derringer Will commanded, "get outside!"
The look on the man's face changed to surprise, and he showed reluctance to
leave. Will thrust the gun forward at arm's length to reinforce his demand and he
moved quickly towards the open door through which Gerald was now
disappearing.
Turning to the fat man Will made his departing remark. "If you tell anyone,
you'll be visited by the police and the feds." The fat man nodded his head,
indicating that he understood. Pocketing the derringer Will joined the others
outside, Gerald had started the pick-up and the fat man's accomplice was standing
on the sidewalk, showing no signs of escaping.
"Get into the car," Will ordered, and once inside he spoke to Gerald. "Head
for the harbour front as quick as you can." As they sped away Will looked across
at Gerald, he looked tense but showed no other signs of distress. This was
probably the first time he had experienced the close proximity of danger and Will
was surprised that he had survived it without incident.
"What are you going to do with me?" The fat man's accomplice spoke in a
fearful, questioning voice.
"That all depends on you. If you tell anyone what happened here today we'll
dump the fed's on you, and you'll probably finish up in jail for a very long time."
"No, my brother and me wouldn't dare do that, we've got to keep out of
trouble." Will was taken aback. So this was the fat man's brother, who would
have believed it? They looked totally different, but this made things much easier.
As brothers, they were bound to protect each other, Will calculated.
"Pull up right here." Gerald brought the vehicle to a screeching halt. The fat
man's brother scrambled to get out, and Will watched him running back up the
street as fast as his stocky legs would carry him.
Will could feel the adrenalin still flowing and his legs were beginning to shake.
He pressed down on his knees to try and stop the tremor. "Don't go back to Aki's
place yet, let's go down to Waikiki beach and sit for awhile."
Gerald nodded in agreement. "I'll get some coke and sandwiches."
Will looked across at him noticing his hands gripping the steering wheel like a
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vice, the knuckles showing white under the pressure and his arms were shaking.
It would be okay for him to breakdown, now that the danger had passed Will
thought, as he tried to relax.
Sitting on the beach under the palms was far better medicine than taking any
tranquillizer. Another clear blue sky, and a light mild breeze, coupled with the
sound of the surf soon had the desired effect. Will lay back on the sand and
allowed his body and mind to return to normal.
"There you go, Will." It was Gerald with the coke and sandwiches. His hands
were still trembling slightly, but Will was amazed that he was so composed. "Can
you tell me something? Would you have shot the fat man's brother?"
"No." A look of relief came over Gerald's face.
"Can I tell you why?" Gerald waited for his answer.
"I don't have any bullets for the derringer!" Both men burst into laughter.
"You know Gerald, I was more concerned with my own safety in the event
of you wielding that cannon of yours!"
Gerald chuckled. "Your concerns were well founded, I've never fired it
before!"
Both men were now relaxed enough to talk about the incident at the shop, and
Will outlined his reasons about the negative getting into the hands of the police.
"We had to frighten them back there to stop them from blackmailing us so you'll
have to find someone else to do your identity documents."
Gerald had made arrangements to meet his contact in the early evening, so it
was decided that they relax for the remainder of the afternoon and have a light
evening meal before the meeting. Will was clear about what he wanted from
Gerald's contact, enabling him to put things out of his mind until the time arrived.
It was dusk and they were now in Gerald's open coupe, having changed
vehicles at Aki's. Will felt the warm night air blowing on his face as they travelled
through unfamiliar scenery. "Where are we going?"
"To one of the western beaches in the Kahe area, not very far from Pearl City.
There's a beach house where we will not be disturbed, we'll be there in a few
minutes."
Dusk had turned to darkness and apart from the headlight's of the car Will
could just see the clear sky and the occasional twinkling of stars through the tree
tops. The area seemed devoid of other buildings, at least close to the road.
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Abruptly slowing down Gerald turned off the main road, and the surface changed
from smooth to rocky. They were now travelling at walking pace and down a
steep winding incline, which terminated into a circular clearing.
As the car came to a stop Will found himself looking down, over the roof of
a beach house and across to the ocean. The moon was full, it's light reflecting from
the water, showing up the white capped waves coming into the shore. It was an
ideal picture postcard scene. Gerald led the way down a wide wooden stairway
to the rear of the house and Will became aware of a gentle breeze coming off the
ocean, creating the sweet smell of pollen in the air coming from the bushes on the
patio.
Looking at the structure of the house it seemed a far cry from a simple cottage.
A long narrow wooden building, no doubt built that way to take advantage of the
view. Without knocking, Gerald opened the door and they went inside. He had
obviously been here before.
The confines of the small entrance led into an expansive open plan room.
Three long comfortable sofas were placed in a semicircle in the centre of the room,
served by three large coffee tables. Scatter rugs and occasional tables supporting
vases of flowers, and other displayed items, added to the expensive decor. The
open area to the far left contained dining furniture and between the lounge and
dining areas a large bar jutted out, surrounded by bar stools. But the most
overpowering element in the room was 30 to 40 feet of floor to ceiling glass doors
that opened out on to a full-length deck, taking full advantage of the ocean view.
A tall man was standing by the windows looking out. He turned and
approached as Gerald and Will entered the room. His neatly pressed cream
trousers, matched a cream, military style long sleeve tailored shirt, from the pocket
of which peeked the corner of a folded handkerchief. Gerald started the
introductions and as he offered up his hand Will noticed the nails were manicured,
his grip loose, but not as jelly-like as Gerald's.
His name was Rodney, and as they sat down Will's attention was drawn to the
smooth, bryl-creamed black hair, parted on the left side, and his pencil thin
moustache. This chap would also do well in the movies, Will was thinking. His
mannerisms were not as pronounced as Gerald's but there was no mistaking the
fact that he was also homosexual. After drinks had been prepared at the bar the
conversation turned to matters concerning the meeting.
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It was soon apparent that Rodney did not have the open character of Gerald.
He was constantly on his guard, at times evasive without qualification, putting him
more into the category of Blyth or the Correspondent, and certainly seemed more
equipped psychologically for this type of work, in stark contrast to Gerald. A
point in time had arrived when Will had to make his position abundantly clear.
"Gerald has probably told you that I am not prepared to stick my neck out,
exposing my identity to everyone I come into contact with in that administrative
building, it's far too risky. "I don't mind getting into the grounds for you to pass the
documents over to Gerald, and you must admit, getting in and out will not be
easy."
Rodney's face was deadpan and getting up from the sofa he went over to the
other side of the bar to refresh his drink. Will watched him intently, concentrating
for signs of a change in facial expression, but non was forthcoming. This man was
one very cool character.
"I've thought about it but I can't do what you ask, you will have to go along
with the original plan," he remarked, with a distinct and forceful tone in his voice.
Will looked across at Gerald and he could see him trembling slightly as the tension
started to mount, but he would have to ignore the signs and keep on track.
"I don't have to go along with any plan," Will replied, with just the right amount
of force in his voice "and if you insist, you can forget about any help from me,
whatever the consequences."
Rodney walked over to the sofa and sat down, placing his drink on the coffee
table in front of him. His face had now changed to a look of annoyance and Will
had no doubt that he was the type of person who disliked not getting his own way.
Rodney and Will were now at an impasse and Gerald could see what was
coming. Getting nervously to his feet he walked over to the glass doors pretending
to look out at the ocean, but his only desire was to put some distance however
small, between himself and any confrontation. Will picked up his drink and waited
for Rodney's response, determined not to break the silence and give him an
advantage. He had made up his mind that should no response come he would
stand up and prepare to leave.
The seconds ticked by and the sound of Gerald's uneasy shuffling could be
heard from across the room, intensifying by the minute. Not being able to contain
himself any longer he walked briskly back to the sofa and sat down next to
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Rodney. "Perhaps we can come to some arrangement?" he suggested.
"You've had my decision," Will interjected, "now it's up to yourselves. When
you come to your decision let me know, I'd like to go to the washroom."
The washroom was adjacent to the bar and once inside Will quickly looked
around the room. Opening a cupboard door over the hand basin he found just
what he was looking for - a large glass tumbler. Placing the glass to his ear and
against the washroom wall on the lounge-room side, it had the desired effect of
amplifying the sounds through the wall and he could hear Rodney's hushed, intense
conversation. He was bullying Gerald in no uncertain terms, blaming him for the
breakdown of his plan.
Will could hear Gerald's apologetic answers to Rodney's brow-beating and
he started to get angry. Flushing the toilet to give warning that he was about to
reappear, he returned to his seat now knowing that Rodney was not as cool as he
had first thought.
"Have you decided what to do?" Will asked, looking directly at Rodney.
"I fail to see what you are concerned about." The audacity of this man! He
must be so egotistical to think that someone would just go along with him, without
question. It had only been minutes since the bullying episode with Gerald and
Will's anger had not subsided. Rodney's last statement only served to add further
fuel to his feelings.
"You must think Gerald and I are stupid! You take documents from a file that
you are perfectly authorized to do, put them on a desk that you are authorized to
do, and collect them afterwards to put back in the file that you are also authorized
to do, with literally no risk to yourself, and you expect us to use a hoax to gain
entry to the building, the consequences of which, if caught, could mean at the very
least, a jail sentence, and the possibility of them throwing away the key. You
really must be mad!"
Gerald once again stood up and made for the viewing deck, stopping at a
distance where he could still hear what was being said. "It's all so one-sided," Will
continued, "the risk should be shared. We are prepared to do our bit if you do
yours, and that's the bottom line."
Rodney's face was now deadpan again, and apart from the distant sound of
the ocean waves and the reoccurrence of Gerald's nervous shuffling, the room was
silent. This time Will was not prepared to wait for Rodney to answer, he wanted
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to bring things to a conclusion as soon as possible. After a few seconds to allow
his previous comments to sink in he knew that he would have to keep shocking
Rodney until he responded.
"I'd be most upset if you were bullying Gerald into this crazy scheme!"
Rodney's face changed instantly to a look that was questioning the very thought
that he may have been found out. He moved uneasily on the sofa signifying that the
conversation was having an effect and Will followed through, "you are a spy aren't
you, a paid one at that, so why don't you start acting like a spy and earn your
money?"
Will realized that he had reached a point in time where he had nothing to lose,
imparting the final item in his mind that was bugging him. "I can't understand for the
life of me why, as a homosexual like Gerald, you're not trying to help him out,
instead of putting him into danger." The strain for Gerald must have been
paramount. He opened one of the glass doors and went outside on to the deck.
Rodney was also mobile, heading back to the bar.
Getting up from the sofa Will joined Gerald on the deck. He was gripping the
hand rail to help stop the trembling. The sound of the surf out there was constant,
punctuated only by an occasional boom as a large wave broke on to the beach.
"Everything will be fine now Gerald, please come back inside." Gerald
followed without question.
Rodney looked up as they entered. He had taken out some plates and put
them on the bar, alongside cups and saucers. "Could we discuss the situation over
a bite to eat?"
The look of relief on Gerald's face was indisputable. "We'd love to do that,"
and with a renewed purpose in his step walked over to the refrigerator. "I'll start
to prepare the meal."
The meal progressed in a cordial manner with no further confrontation taking
place. Will began to relax and enjoy the food, but he couldn't help thinking what
the men back at the ship would think if they could take the place of a fly on the
wall and observe the proceedings, especially the fact that Will was dining with not
one, but two homosexuals! He shuddered at the thought.
Sitting in the lounge over coffee it was agreed that Rodney would meet Gerald
at a prearranged time and place in the grounds, where the information would be
passed over. How he procured the copied documents would be his concern.
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Breaking into the grounds would provide them with plenty to worry about. Will
was satisfied and they prepared to leave.
Making his way up the stairway from the rear patio Will stood, taking one long
final look at this most beautiful place, together with it's breathtaking view before
finally getting into the car. He was thinking of his mother again and how thrilled he
would be to bring her here.
The sound of Gerald's footsteps running up the stairway broke into his
thoughts and within minutes they were back on the main road heading towards
Pearl City. During the trip back to the ship Gerald told him that he had taken time
off from his job to deal with the forthcoming situation, and wanted the following
day to arrange a few things, but mainly to gather some information. Before leaving
the car Will felt that he had to say at least one thing about that confrontational
evening, and looked directly into Gerald's face to get his full attention.
"Gerald, you must stand up for yourself, don't let people push you around.
They will only lead you into the sort of trouble that you won't be able to handle.
Always remember, Rodney is just as vulnerable as you are, and you should take
advantage of that, as and when required. Just remember one most important thing,
if you don't protect yourself, your father may become vulnerable."
Gerald nodded in agreement. "Yes, you are perfectly right."
"Then do it for your father's sake. See you the day after tomorrow, right here."
Will did not look around as the car did a "U" turn in the road disappearing in
the direction of Honolulu. He collapsed on his bunk completely exhausted from the
day's events.
The next day was a welcome break from the clandestine affair that had been
dominating Will's time. He accepted an invitation to go ashore and tour downtown
Honolulu. He was compelled to keep his attention focused throughout the day and
consequently, other matters were largely forced to the back of his mind, providing
a welcome relief.
They had walked for hours, eventually getting back to the ship quite late. No
messages had been left, something that Will always expected with some anxiety,
so the day ended as normally as it had begun, which was a pleasant change.
Next day, rather than stay on board for breakfast, Will consumed a quick cup
of coffee and made himself a fried egg sandwich to eat ashore. Leaving the ship
early, he had decided to walk around the coast adjacent to the harbour and find
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a suitable spot to have his sandwich, prior to meeting Gerald. He was aware that
the days were now quickly passing by, and he would soon be losing the
opportunity of being able to just sit quietly with grass and trees around.
Looking across the bay at the hills beyond brought back memories of the Firth
of The Clyde in Scotland, and he allowed his mind to wander to thoughts of home
closing his eyes to get a more vivid picture, when suddenly a familiar voice
abruptly brought him back to reality.
"Hi there, Will." It was Gerald and Will sprang to his feet, thinking he was late
for the meeting.
"Am I late? Sorry Gerald."
"No, it's me that's early. I happened to spot you from the road up there," he
said, pointing back up the hill to where Aki's pick-up was parked in a pull-off.
"We can talk here if you like."
The spot was ideal with not a soul in sight. Gerald was upbeat, which was
unusual for him. He had all the information necessary to go forward with the job
and was now waiting for Will to tell him how they would get in and out of the
grounds. He had sketches of the building positions, relative to the high fence
surrounding the grounds with a note showing where he would meet Rodney. The
main gate was the only way in or out. Will looked at the map.
"This is a piece of dynamite you're carrying around, if you get caught with it
there would be a lot of questions asked. We'll need to go up there today and look
around the perimeter, but before we go we will have to get rid of that map. Are
you acquainted with the place where you have to meet Rodney?"
"Yes, and I can burn the plan in one of the picnic places on the way."
About half-a-mile from Pacific Headquarters Will asked Gerald to stop and
park the car. "We'll walk from here and then go round the perimeter looking for
the best way in." Gerald looked across at Will.
"The place is immense, it may take us all day."
"Whatever it takes."
Checking out the perimeter proved to be tedious. A narrow dirt road ran
parallel to the fence for a short distance and then veered off, leaving no other
option but to take to the countryside to keep track of it. A couple of hours had
gone by with no sign of a place suitable for entry and Gerald was getting
despondent, but after a further hour Will spotted a change in the fence structure.
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It was an ideal spot with trees and shrubs both on the outside, and in. A large
tree branch, during recent times had fallen on the fence and bent two of the upright
posts in opposite directions, making it a bit easier to climb in and out. Looking
beyond the trees into the compound, the ground cleared into grassy banks and
gulleys, deep enough to walk along without being seen. Yes, this was the place.
Will turned to Gerald.
"How far is it from here to the meeting place?"
"At least a quarter of a mile."
It would be impossible to check out the rest of the terrain as it was well inside
the compound. An occasional Military Policeman had been seen walking around,
but out in the open, and well away from the fence.
"Let's get back to the car Gerald, but take particular note on the way back for
the best way to leave in case we need to hurry."
Gerald looked uneasily at Will. "Do you expect trouble?"
"It's always best to be prepared." Gerald fell silent and Will guessed by the
look on his face he was already getting butterflies in his stomach.
It was Tuesday and Rodney had given the go-ahead for Friday. There was
nothing else to do, so Gerald dropped Will off at the usual place near the ship,
which was only a short distance away, making his return earlier than usual.
Passing the stairway to the captain's quarters on his way back to his cabin Will
could hear raised voices, dominated by the deep bellowing voice of the captain.
Some poor devil's in trouble, I wonder what it's all about? He didn't have to wait
long for an answer.
"Have you heard Will, there's a row going on between the skipper and the
military?"
"No, I've only just got back."
"It's been going on since mid morning and they are all up there now. If the
skipper has his way and he usually does, the charter will be broken and we'll be
out of here, quick smart!"
Will felt numb and confused, all sorts of things were flashing through his mind.
"When will we know?"
"The radio officer has been in touch with London for instructions. We should
know anytime now."
Will sat in his cabin. There was nothing he could do until he knew what was
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going to happen, and the short waiting period proved to be torturous. It had been
about an hour since he had first heard about the possible changes. "It's all over, we
sail for Sydney, Australia, on Friday!"
Will panicked. He didn't know where Gerald lived but he could probably find
Aki's place if he took a cab, and then he suddenly remembered the card Gerald
had given him with the photo shop's directions on it and the words he had once
said to him, "if ever you are in trouble contact Aki." Foraging through a small
carved wooden box where he kept his valuables, he was more than relieved to
find that he still had it.
He hesitated. This would be an ideal opportunity to turn his back on the whole
thing, it would not be his fault and it was very tempting, but Gerald's face kept
surfacing and his conscience came to the forefront. The telephone number on the
card was for Aki's restaurant and Will hurriedly left the ship to find the nearest
telephone. Aki was there, his happy voice on the other end gave Will a boost.
"How soon can you get in touch with Gerald?"
"Usually within the hour. Is it urgent?"
"Yes, very urgent Aki. I need to see him right now, could you tell him I'll wait
for him at the usual place."
"Don't worry Will, I shall keep trying until I get him."
Will had been back to the ship to collect some items and then walked to the
spot where he usually met Gerald, but before he had the chance to get worried
about whether he would make contact Gerald's white coupe appeared. Will
jumped into the front seat. "Find a place where we can talk."
Darkness had by now descended and Gerald soon found a place to park. "We
have a problem Gerald, the ship's charter has been broken and we leave on Friday
morning." Gerald's face took on a look of despair and Will hastened to put him out
of his misery. "Just let Rodney know that we will have to do it one day earlier, on
Thursday. Tell him to meet you at the arranged place, we will wait there all day if
necessary, to give him plenty of opportunity, and be at Aki's place tomorrow
evening. I will phone you there."
Back at the ship Will began to have doubts but he pushed them aside. If things
failed it would be out of his control but at least, he would have had a go. They
would have to come up with something else, after the ship had sailed.
He had one last day to himself before sailing, and he intended to make use of
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that by revisiting Waikiki beach, Diamond Head, and other places in the vicinity
before leaving.
In the early hours of Thursday morning, Gerald picked up Will at the usual
meeting place and they drove to a prearranged spot to park Aki's pick-up. It was
dark and still as they made their way through the countryside to where they would
get over the fence. Standing quietly at the spot, no sounds of movement could be
heard and Will clambered up the leaning fence post over to the other side,
followed by Gerald. So far so good, and keeping to the perimeter of the grounds
with the fence in sight, they walked without speaking for about fifteen minutes.
Gerald raised his hand for them to stop indicating that they were now near
Rodney's meeting place.
"We have to go deeper into the compound," Gerald whispered, and within
minutes the dark shapes of buildings became visible, surrounded by trees and
shrubs. "I have to wait here until I see Rodney come out of that building," he
whispered again, pointing to the building nearest to the shrubbery. His voice was
wavering, he was probably scared stiff.
Will was amazed how easy it had been to get this far without incident and he
crossed his fingers, hoping his luck would continue. Dawn began to break and they
moved deeper into the bushes to avoid being seen. It was difficult to keep
comfortable sitting on the ground, Gerald's legs were trembling, making a rustling
sound. Will lifted his own knees up to his chest, indicating that he should do the
same thing to quell the noise.
He looked apologetically at Will, but there was nothing he could do about his
nerves. At full light, activity in the area started to become evident but it was only
occasional, and no Military Police showed up. How fortunate they were to have
everything so quiet, but Will was praying that Rodney would appear so that they
could get on the move. The sound of rapid gunfire suddenly broke the silence,
followed by more of the same.
Gerald rolled over on to his face covering the back of his head, his whole body
was now trembling. He's never been under fire before Will guessed, and placing
his hand on his shoulder shook him to gain attention. Gerald turned over, a look
of fear on his face.
"There's got to be a small firing range nearby and they are probably checking
out their guns and having shooting practice before the offices open. Just try and
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stay calm."
Gerald sat up but he didn't look too good, the gunfire had disturbed him and
he was having a job to cope. "Pull yourself together, Rodney could come at
anytime and you must be ready." The firing continued for a short while and then
ceased.
Gerald had hardly recovered before Rodney walked out of the building and
across the lawn. Will couldn't believe it. There was no one else in sight! It was
obvious that he would not be able to hang around and Will prodded Gerald into
action. Within seconds the transaction had taken place. Scanning the area once
again for signs of life and seeing none, Will turned to Gerald. "Let's get out of
here!" Even though they were still inside the compound and at risk, Will felt
somehow relieved that they were moving again.
Keeping out of sight in the deep gulleys, they cautiously made their way back.
Gerald was leading the way, his head bent slightly to keep out of sight, but his
homosexual mannerisms were still prominent and they looked more pronounced
from behind, especially the gyrating hips. Will smiled to himself as he followed, but
the smile was unexpectedly wiped from his face as a strange voice called out.
"Halt, who goes there?"
Will raised his head slightly to see a soldier some distance away. Gerald was
frozen to the spot, his head moving around in an erratic frightened manner and Will
was expecting him to panic. There was no time to waste, their entry point was not
far away and there would be plenty of cover to hide their escape.
"Run Gerald, run like hell!" and Will pushed Gerald physically into action but
it seemed hopeless. He couldn't run, it was as though his legs were detached from
his body. Two yards, ten yards, fifteen yards, and the sound of gunfire broke out.
The bullets were kicking up dirt on the ridges of the gulley above their heads in
rapid succession. He's got a machine-gun! and he could hear Gerald, his fright
now becoming vocal.
Rounding a bend Will realized that it would take them in the direction of the
soldier, but it was too late to change his mind. He was standing about thirty to forty
paces ahead, waiting for them.
Gerald raised his hands above his head waiting for some instruction. "Walk
towards him," Will whispered, "but let me do the talking."
As they walked closer Will could see the soldier looking directly at Gerald, he
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had a bemused look on his face. It was that walk of Gerald's and he had
recognized it's implication.
"What are you doing here?"
"Our car broke down on the road," Will replied, showing him the palms of his
hands that were dirty from clambering over the fence, "we thought the fence was
around someone's house and climbed over to try and get help." The soldier started
to relax, he was only about Will's age.
"Do you live around here?"
Gerald broke into the conversation. "Yes, in an apartment downtown."
The soldier nodded. "I'll have to get you checked out, you're on military
grounds, but the area is restricted so I can't take you to the main building." He
pointed to a small hut under the trees in the opposite direction to where they had
entered. "I'll put you in there until I can get someone to see you."
The door slammed behind them and the padlock snapped shut. Will could hear
the soldier's footsteps leaving the scene and knew that some time would elapse
before anyone returned, due to the distance from there to the main building. He
was amazed that this young soldier had not asked more questions, and at least
performed some preliminary search. Seeing Gerald, he had probably concluded
that their explanation was genuine. Gerald slumped down into the corner, but Will
shocked him back to reality. "Get up, we've got to get out of here, quick smart!"
The hut was very small, only about 6 ft x 6 ft at the most and it was standing
on bare ground. Will guessed it would be a place for a guard to get out of any bad
weather during his rounds. It reminded him of the garden shed back home and he
set about pushing and shoving to look for any movement and he found plenty.
"Quick Gerald, help me dig out the soil, enough to get a grip under this wall,"
Will shouted, as he frantically attacked the soil with his hands. He had no time to
consider Gerald's state of mind, he just kept pushing him to work harder.
The two men finally gripped the bottom rail of the wall. "Lift Gerald, lift as
hard as you can!" and Will felt the side of the hut move, some six inches higher
"more, more!" Will shouted. He could feel his head and arms bursting with the
strain as they lifted it to a height of two feet. "I'll hold it, you go outside and keep
it up for me to get out."
Will took the strain as Gerald disappeared under the gap. Feeling Gerald's
pull, Will quickly dropped down and rolled outside just as Gerald let go and the
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hut fell back into position.
They ran the short distance to the fence where they had entered as though their
very lives depended on it. Scrambling over, Will took off in the direction of the car
but this time in a wide circle to avoid the roads. He could hear Gerald panting
some distance behind and sighting the car through the trees Will stopped, allowing
Gerald to catch up. There were no signs of traffic or anyone walking.
"Have you still got the documents?"
"Yes."
"Then get down to the car and drive the long way round to Aki's."
Gerald looked puzzled. "Aren't you coming?"
"No, we must split up. If they do look for us, and I don't think they will, they
will be looking for two men."
"What are you going to do?"
"Forget about me, I can look after myself better on my own, but remember
what I told you after we left Rodney's the other night. Don't let anyone push you
around anymore, now get going!"
Gerald turned to walk away, when he must have suddenly realized as Will did,
that they would not see each other again. He turned, there were tears running
down his face. "Thanks Will," and Will watched until the wagon turned and
disappeared down the road out of sight.
The thought that he could still be pursued shocked him back to reality, but now
that he was on his own it was as though a weight had been lifted from his
shoulders. The more distance he put between himself and the military headquarters
the more confident he felt, but learning from his previous experience at
Chesapeake Bay and Aden, he kept off the roads as much as he could until he
recognized the built-up area in the approaches to the harbour where the ship was
tied up.
He felt the urge to stay away from the ship until dark, but came to the
conclusion that he would probably be safer there as the military would be more
likely to search the surrounding countryside, having no reason to go aboard.
Preparations were in progress for the next day's sailing, and the deck hands were
too preoccupied with their work to notice Will coming aboard.
By now, Gerald would be at Aki's and in safe hands and for all parties
concerned, it was over. There was just the waiting period until they sailed early
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next morning.
Will showered and changed into clean clothes. Apart from a small sector of
the crew, most everyone would be ashore until late, having a last fling before
sailing. Lying on his bunk he tried to relax but found it impossible. His escape from
the military grounds was too recent, the events kept flooding back into his mind
and it would continue for the rest of the day. Finally, feeling the effects of the
culmination of all that had happened, he wearily retired to his bunk hoping to get
a good night's sleep.
He awoke to the sound of the ship's engines starting up, and by the time he
managed to get up on deck they were on their way past Pearl Harbour. Will sat
astern, watching the Honolulu skyline recede into the distance, his mind torn
between two conflicts.
He would have enjoyed more time in Hawaii, but the assignment would have
still been dominant, so it was probably a good thing that the ship had sailed earlier
than expected.
The ship headed south west bound for New Zealand where it would be dry
docked for repairs to a damaged hull. Each day got hotter as they approached the
equator but the daily routines were far from taxing, giving plenty of opportunity to
get the trauma of the Hawaiian assignment behind him. It would be two to three
weeks sailing and another couple of weeks or so before the repairs would be
effected, finally allowing them to sail home to England via the notorious Cape
Horn.
Will experienced to it’s full extent an apt name for this part of the world “The
devil’s cauldron.” Day after day of mountainous seas was like living in hell until the
ship rounded “the horn” through Drake’s Passage and headed north for home.
They were still only halfway through the journey but conditions were now more
tolerable.
World war 2 was now over and Will was discharged back into civilian life.
The economics of Europe had been decimated by the war. Large volumes of
army, navy and air force personnel swelled the work force entering into an
environment that had hardly started to change over from war production to
commercial enterprise. It was obvious that it would take some years for the
country to get back to some stability, consequently, Will knew that he had to make
a profound decision and without delay.
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During his overseas service he had visited Australia and met a family there.
They had offered him sponsorship should he wish to emigrate after the war. Whilst
waiting for confirmation he met and married his wife Dorothy, and they now found
themselves poised to travel by ship to Melbourne, Australia, a journey of some
seven weeks.
The last few months were spent living with Will’s parents. They were happy
times until the embarkation date got closer and the knowledge that Australia was
a world away and the hope of returning, only a slim possibility.
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Chapter 7
The Surveillance
Will stood on deck watching the Port Authority building in Liverpool
disappearing into the distance as he had done on previous voyages. This time
however, it would be a one-way trip and his feelings reflected that thought.
Looking along the deck he could see the deck hands stowing away the rope lines
and replacing the ship's railing where the top of the gangway had been, all familiar
sights to him. It was a strange feeling to be a passenger and not a crew member,
but the cabin accommodation and the forthcoming routine, would soon clarify
things for him.
The men and women's living quarters were separated, with six to eight persons
to a cabin which was something everyone would have to get used to. The ship
turned south into the St. George's Channel and for the first couple of days
everything went well, but as they entered the Bay of Biscay, Will's sea sickness
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problem returned with a vengeance.
His vacant chair at the dining-room table puzzled those who were not affected,
as they now knew that he had been to sea before. It was a relief to finally pass
through the Straits of Gibraltar into the calmer waters of the Mediterranean and
Will was aware that it would be at least a couple of weeks or so before they
would be in the Indian Ocean giving him some respite until then. The inclement
weather seemed to have very little affect on Dorothy which was a blessing,
considering Will's affliction.
The ship arrived at Port Said only to find to everyone's disappointment that the
port was experiencing some civil disorder and under martial law consequently, no
one was allowed ashore. The ship only stayed overnight before entering the Suez
Canal providing a welcome interest for the passengers. Will watched as the ship
passed through the sand dunes and he knew what to expect during the next three
days or so, sailing down the Red Sea. He wasn't looking forward to it.
As predicted, the heat was unbearable, placing the utmost strain on those who
had never experienced these adverse conditions before, and everyone breathed
a sigh of relief when the ship sailed into Aden. It was still hot, but being able to get
ashore for the first time since leaving England was a big relief.
Standing on the boat deck, looking across the harbour at the now familiar
town, Will's previous experiences came flooding back to him. There could be no
tangible excuse for him not wanting to go ashore, and he could not entertain the
thought of Dorothy going alone. He would have to try and keep away from the
area where Omaha's shop was located, but they would definitely have to go up to
the Queen of Sheba's Wells. Knowing that they would probably see the sights on
their own made him feel more vulnerable. His feelings about Aden were all
negative, and his thoughts turned to the possibility of something going wrong.
For the first time he was experiencing the fearful thought of Dorothy
inadvertently getting involved. It had been some years since his last episode with
the organization and hopefully, his thoughts were unfounded. Dorothy appeared
at his side, excited about going ashore, but by the time the port authorities had
completed their formalities, it was too late in the day.
After breakfast next morning, Will took Dorothy to the bazaars and she
became totally engrossed looking at the large variety of goods on display. As they
moved slowly through the crowds, Will constantly scanned both the moving and
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stationary faces in the near vicinity, his concentration ever increasing as Dorothy
became more interested in the wood carvings and local native artifacts. Realizing
that he was engaged in a fruitless exercise he attempted to relax, but on the horse
drawn carriage ride up to the Queen of Sheba's Wells he felt even more vulnerable
and alighting on to the pavement it seemed only yesterday that he had been
standing there with the package in his pocket, waiting for the contact to arrive.
Will looked up and down the street then beyond to the road, where he had
disappeared in that rattling taxi. Nothing had changed, it was exactly as he had left
it. Dorothy, by this time had made her way up to the entrance to the Well's and she
was looking back, wondering where Will had got to. Shaking off his immediate
thoughts Will turned to join her. The remainder of the day, much to Will's relief,
passed without incident, and the following morning the ship left Aden to sail across
the Indian Ocean to the Island of Ceylon and then directly to Melbourne.
The remainder of the voyage went by without incident, but as the ship entered
the Great Australian Bight and the Bass Straits, the seas were running heavy, and
for the final week or so, before the ship sailed into Port Philip Bay, Will's health
had deteriorated rapidly, making it necessary for him to be taken into the ship’s
hospital.
He had lost a lot of weight, looking thin and haggard, and to make matters
worse they encountered a thick fog, forcing the ship to stay at anchor in the Bay
for two days, before finally docking in Port Melbourne. It was good to get ashore
again, and their sponsors welcomed them into their brand new home. With the
combination of good food and change of lifestyle Will’s health soon rebounded.
It was time now to get involved and after contacting a professional employment
bureau in the Melbourne city centre he received a telegram to go to the agency.
At the interview he learned that a clinic, utilizing electro-medical equipment was
being set up in the city. Various societies in the Melbourne and metropolitan area
were taking out contracts with the company to treat their members. They were
looking for someone to install and commission the equipment, look after it, and at
the same time manage the day to day affairs.
The clinic was situated in a high rise building on the corner of Swanston and
Collins Street, only minutes away from the agency, and just two city blocks from
where Dorothy worked. Will felt mildly excited as he entered the foyer of the
building and walked across the expansive terraza floor entering the elevator for the
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fifth floor.
The elevator door opened and Will stepped out into a wide, wall to wall
carpeted corridor, and stood for a moment looking left and right. The walls were
decorated in polished mahogany, a striking resemblance to those in the boardroom
on the ship in Gourock where he had been interrogated, and his mind instantly
flashed back to that point in time. The surroundings however, were giving off quite
a different meaning. It was so quiet, not even the clatter of the busy street below
interrupted the silence. Will made his way to the suite number and confronting him
was a notice on the door "Please Enter." Opening the door revealed a small
waiting-room containing a number of chairs, and he expected it to be illuminated
by artificial lighting, but was surprised to find the area well supplied with natural
light which was radiating over the cubicle partitions from an ample number of
windows, situated on the far wall.
A short narrow passageway, to the left of the waiting-room appeared to lead
to a number of cubicles, and Will could detect muffled voices, combined with
activity coming from them, indicating that treatments were being conducted. To the
right of the waiting room was a door marked "Consulting Room" The interview
went well and he was offered the position.
During the next few months they moved to an apartment close to the city and
Will found himself engrossed in his new work. There were six people engaged in
treating patients - five men and one woman. A doctor attended the clinic to see all
new patients and prescribe treatments. Any form of organization regarding
appointments however, was practically non existent, so Will set about providing
a system to avoid the conflicts that had been occurring in the past. All the staff
were easy to get along with which was a godsend, allowing Will to push ahead to
improve matters for them, at the same time, keeping their apparatus in good shape.
After being away from the clinic for a period, Will returned to find the waitingroom
full, and took little notice as he commenced work but he had hardly started
when he was informed that someone had been asking for him personally in the
waiting-room.
"Man or woman?"
"A man. He said he would wait out in the corridor for you, the waiting-room
is full." Probably a rep, Will thought.
"Would you tell him I'll be out in a few minutes, when I finish this." Stepping
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out into the corridor he expected to see a young, blue suited individual with an
attache case, but was surprised to be confronted by a middle-aged man in casual
clothes, light tweed trousers and jacket, wearing brown golf shoes. In contrast,
he was wearing a white open neck shirt, which seemed to contradict the
conservative nature of the rest of his apparel. His dark hair was brushed back and
slightly thinning, and his cheeks which were podgy, contrasted a small sharp nose.
The eyes were round and big, and even during those first few moments Will
noticed that he had not blinked, but most noticeable of all was his stance.
It was hard to describe, but it was as though his body had been wound up like
a spring, ready to veer off in one direction or another, at any given moment. Will
stepped forward, and expecting an outstretched hand, was taken completely by
surprise as the man stepped backwards before speaking in a broad Australian
accent.
"I'm Edward Blake. I'm pleased to meet you Will Brenner."
"I don't know you, is there something I can do for you?"
The man stepped backwards again, at the same time looking over his shoulder
as if to check for a presence in the wide carpeted corridor. His actions were a
replica arising from the past, and Will felt his body tingling as he compared the
picture of the meeting with the correspondent in the alleyway of the ship he was
visiting with Wes Brampton, in Algiers. Yes, it was strikingly similar, and he
practically knew what was going to happen next.
"As a matter of fact there is, but could we talk about it elsewhere?"
"I'm in the middle of morning clinic."
"Yes I know, but could you manage, say half an hour for a chat?"
"I don't know, but I will check and see." Re-entering the waiting-room Will sat
in the nearest vacant chair, his elbows resting on his knees and head bent over
trying to reconcile the situation that had arisen and come to a decision. There was
not much point in putting things off, best to get it over with, and then he would
know how to deal with the predicament. Making the necessary arrangements Will
returned to Edward Blake and they descended in the elevator without engaging in
conversation. Walking out into the street and as though previously arranged, both
men ambled into Rumplemeyers restaurant next door, eventually finding a table in
a corner where they would not be overheard.
Rumplemeyers was one of the most well appointed restaurants in Melbourne.
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The atmosphere did not quite make the Royal Hawaiian, or the Taj Mahal Hotel
in Bombay, and the rugged countenance of the Australian did not match up to the
sophistication of Bligh, but everything else fitted in perfectly.
Edward Blake took off his jacket and placed it on the coat stand next to the
table. He turned to Will.
"I'll order an early lunch, if that's okay?"
"I guess so, but I can't be away long."
A long silence ensued and it was Will who abruptly broke the obvious impasse
of not knowing how to commence with what was required. "You're from British
Intelligence aren't you?"
"Yes, as you are too."
"No, I keep telling people that I'm not, but the fact seems to get lost
somewhere along the line."
"I was told that you were."
"Well, they're wrong, so what do you do now? I could be a danger to you,
couldn't I Mr. Blake?" Blake put up his hand to stop any further conversation.
"Please call me Ed, honestly I wasn't told. Are they holding something over
your head?"
"Yes, what have they told you? Do you have a file on me?"
"No, there's no file, they just told me about some of the work you had done,
and that you could be relied on."
"Look Ed, the war's over, what could you possibly want with me now?" Ed
stared into space, as if pondering what to say next.
"Even in peacetime, there's always somebody at war with an old enemy.
Australia is full of Central and Eastern Europeans that have brought their conflicts
with them when they emigrated, and small organizations have sprung up,
supporting their desires." Ed paused and looked at him, and Will knew that every
word that was spoken from now on would implicate him.
"Look Ed, things have changed. I'm married now, and before we go any
further I have to warn you that if you or anyone in the organization hold my wife's
wellbeing against me, to pressure me to get jobs done, I'll hold you responsible.
You will be the first on my list."
Ed, who had been leaning forward in his chair to try and keep the conversation
low-key suddenly sat bolt upright, a momentary look of surprise on his face, which
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then turned into a broad smile. "You need have no fear of that, but if you want to
be certain, I can always make things official."
"You mean for me to become one of your agents?"
"Yes, it could be much easier now that you are over here."
"I've been through this before and my answer will always be the same, so what
will you be threatening me with, Ed?"
"I won't threaten you with anything. Things are different out here, but I do have
my orders, and if we can come to some arrangement, I'll see to it that things are
straightforward."
Will struggled with his thoughts, he had hardly touched his meal so he started
to eat. This was certainly a change from his previous encounters with other agents,
and Ed seemed genuine, but he also knew from past experience that once involved
he couldn't rely on Ed to keep him out of trouble. At least, things seemed more
open, and Ed wasn't acting in a devious manner. Even so, Will knew that if he
refused to go along, the first thing they could do would be to institute veiled threats
against Dorothy, and that would be out of Ed's hands. Will trembled at the thought.
In the past he had always been on the move, a different ship to some other
part of the world, but now he was settling into a new life, putting down new roots.
It wasn't fair and Will felt an anger rising inside. The two men had not spoken for
some minutes, but it was as though Ed had been reading his mind.
"Surely things can't be that bad. Let me explain and you'll see." Will nodded
for him to continue. "We have a brand new listening device, everything plugs in
okay and the batteries are in order, but it doesn't work. It's a tool that we could
find a lot of use for right away. Could you have a look at it for us?"
"Why don't you just phone the manufacturer, they will probably send someone
out to fix it." Will paused, waiting for Ed's reply, but he knew that were they able
to do just that, his services would not be required. I wonder what cock and bull
story he will come up with to explain things away? Will mused. But he was
completely surprised when Ed came straight up front with his reply.
"We've procured the device via illegal channels, mainly to hide the fact that we
have it, and we've gone to a lot of trouble in this regard. It's apparently the most
advanced eavesdropper available today, and the longer we can keep it's presence
a secret, the more work we can do with it before they start to take precautions."
"Who are “they”?
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"The least you know the better for now. Don't you agree that we're not placing
any demands on you?"
"Probably not, but you haven't told me about the second thing. You did
mention a couple?"
Ed did not hesitate. "You're attracting all these different societies and
organizations to the clinic, and we have reason to believe that some of the
organizers are involved in questionable activities against others. It's not organized
crime, just political, and the ramifications are disturbing."
"But I don't know anyone associated with these groups. I have very little
communication with them, my superior sees all the customers."
"We know that, but as time goes by he will be needing your services in that
regard, and he'll be taking you along to meet these people. All we want you to do
is keep your ears and eyes open for any strange goings on. You've been through
the war so you'll recognize it when you see it, and when you do, just let us know."
"You keep saying us and we!"
"There are other agents working for me, but all your connections will only be
with me."
"That suits me fine. The least I know about the whole affair the happier I will
be." Will read Ed's knowing smile immediately.
"I have to get back to the clinic. What happens next?"
"I'll contact you when it becomes necessary, and eventually let you know
where you can contact me, if you need to."
Rumplemeyers was now full of the lunch time crowd. Will wended his way
around the tables, towards the door that led up to the street. Glancing around the
room he could see no one that he recognized, and with a nod of his head in Ed's
direction he left, his mind churning over the events of the last hour.
The clinic was at it's busiest and for the remainder of the day Will's mind was
fully occupied. On the tramcar going home however, the meeting with Ed
completely dominated his thoughts. He knew that to tell Dorothy what was going
on would be fatal for her. Will could only hope that he would satisfy the
requirements of the organization without it becoming obvious to her, and if it did,
he would have to tell her the truth. Until that day came however, he would have
to resort to a few white lies to get by. Better that, than have her involved.
It was just three days later when he was called into the office to the telephone.
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Picking up the phone Ed's voice came over loud and clear as though he was in the
same room. "Is it alright to talk Will, are you on your own?"
"No, but tell me what you want."
"I've got the device. When can you look at it?"
"Well, the work had better not be left, and it will have to be this weekend. I'm
committed for Saturday, but I could meet you here on Sunday morning, say
around 10 a.m." Will held the earpiece close to his ear as Ed's voice replied.
"I understand, you've got someone in the room with you. See you Sunday at
10 a.m. then."
He would also have to start lying to Dorothy and he didn't feel too good about
it. Sooner or later, if he was not careful, he would get caught.
A few minutes before 10 a.m. on Sunday morning, Will left the elevator and
stepped into the corridor. There was no one waiting at the clinic door, but as he
started walking, a noise from behind startled him and he pivoted around to find Ed
approaching, carrying a long suitcase. He had obviously been waiting at the other
end of the corridor.
The two men entered the deserted clinic without a word. Placing the suitcase
on the table in the reception Ed snapped open the latches and lifted the lid. Inside
was a second professional looking case, with studded, aluminium, strengthening
pieces along the edges, and on the corners. He had hidden it from view inside the
other suitcase for obvious reasons.
Instinctively locking the door, Will suggested they move to a treatment booth
with a window that overlooked the busy intersection below. Ed opened the second
case, revealing several engineered parts, each positioned in their own shaped
velvet compartment. "I know how to put it together, but we can't get it to work.
All the plugs fit and the batteries check out, but not a squeak."
It was a fine piece of engineering, resembling a small telescope on a tripod,
with integral mechanical and electronic controls. Within a few minutes it was
assembled and Ed turned to Will. "It's all yours now Will," and stood back, an
expectant look on his face.
"Take your jacket off Ed, you'll find some paint and brushes in a locker inside
the office. Place the paint cans around on the tables and look like a workman in
case someone comes. We're supposed to be doing some finishing work, apart
from that leave me alone, until I call you. I have to give the job my undivided
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attention."
Will placed the headphones over his ears, switched the unit on and pressed the
trigger. It was completely dead, not even a click. This instrument is high quality
Will was thinking, there's got to be damage somewhere to stop it from working.
Removing the two connectors he pushed them firmly home again, still no sound in
the earpieces, but the second plug didn't seem to push home as positively as the
first.
Looking inside, there it was - a bent pin folded over! Gripping it gently with
the fine pointed pliers, Will teased it into the upright position and thankfully it didn't
snap off. The positive click, as he pushed the plug home, and the inrush of sound
in his ears, brought a flush of excitement. Opening the window, Will looked
through the telescope and lined the cross hairs on a group of four people standing
on the pavement on the opposite side of the street. Their voices came through loud
and clear, it was unbelievable! No wonder Ed was eager to put the instrument
into operation. It was dynamite!
After a few more checks on other targets to get acquainted with the controls,
Will refocused on the group again and called Ed. He came bounding into the
room within seconds. "Have you fixed it?"
"Just look through the telescope and tell me what you see." Ed positioned
himself to take a look at the group indicated by Will. "Now put these phones on."
Will watched his face as he grinned from ear to ear.
"You clever bastard! How did you do it, what was wrong?" Will could see
he was trembling with excitement.
"I'll make a pact with you Ed. I won't ask you about your job, if you don't ask
me about mine."
Ed slapped him on the back. "Done, but I'll need to know how to use it. Will
you show me?"
"Not now Ed, it's too risky, we've been here long enough. Pack the instrument
up and let's get out of here."
Ed started to take the instrument apart. "I can drop you off close to home and
we can make arrangements on the way."
The ride home only took about ten minutes and Ed decided that he would not
make arrangements there and then, but would contact Will when he was ready. He
dropped Will off on Toorak Road, just a few minutes walk from the apartment.
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As the car sped away he wondered why no arrangements had been made, Ed
seemed eager to learn how to operate the instrument, but had changed his mind.
I wonder why?
Dorothy had Sunday dinner ready when he arrived. He realized that he had
just finished his first assignment and things had gone without a hitch. Something
could have gone wrong, as he had already experienced in the past, but sitting there
with Dorothy in the normality of the apartment, listening to her, completely took
the tension away, and he settled back to relax.
A week went by and he was called to the phone again. It was Ed.
"I've got a difficult location to try the instrument out. Could you help me?"
"Where and when?"
"Tomorrow night at 7.30 p.m. I will pick you up."
"It's too soon, I won't be able to make the arrangements."
"It must be tomorrow."
"I won't have you ordering me around Ed!" Will spoke in an agitated voice.
There was silence at the other end. "Did you hear me Ed?"
"Please Will, don't let me down."
"What's going on Ed?"
"I'll tell you when I see you. The pick-up will be where I dropped you off the
other day on Toorak Road." The phone went dead.
Blast! What the hell was going on? Will felt as though someone had him on the
end of a piece of string, manipulating his movements. He would have to tell
Dorothy tonight, he couldn't leave it until tomorrow.
He approached the subject whilst they were having their evening meal. "I have
to go back to the clinic tomorrow night, one of the treatment machines is playing
up."
"Can't you stay an extra hour at closing time instead?"
"No, I don't know how long it will take to repair, so I thought I would come
home for a bite to eat and leave around 7.15 p.m."
"So you have no idea how long it will take?"
"No, it could be quite late."
How could he tell her that he didn't even know himself where he was going
that night? He would have to keep telling himself that he was lying to her, for her
own good.
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Ed was waiting on Toorak Road in a different car with the engine ticking over.
It was just getting dusk and the evening was fine and mild. The car sped east and
then turned north.
"Where are we going, and who will be there."
"To the north end of the city proper, on the other side of the Carlton Gardens,
and there will be one other person there."
"Who is this other person?"
"He's okay, he works with me occasionally."
"Does he know about me?"
"No, only that you are helping out technically."
The conversation ended and Will sat back contented with having a rough idea
of where he was going. It wouldn't take long to show them how to get the best out
of the instrument.
The car circled round the back of the gardens and turned into what appeared
to be a dead-end street. There were no houses, just old deserted warehouse type
buildings. Ed steered between the buildings at the far end of the street and
manouvered into a small gap under an awning type roof. It was an ideal hiding
place for a vehicle, which could never be seen from the street.
As the two men got out of the car, a tall, scrawny, sharp faced individual,
seemed to appear from nowhere, and he and Ed were soon engaged in whispered
conversation. Ed walked around the front of the car, at the same time, beckoning
the tall stranger to follow.
"This is Gerry, he'll be watching out for us." The tall man leaned forward
towards Will, a wide grin on his face.
"Good on ya mate," and with that, promptly turned and disappeared into the
building.
The happenings of the last few minutes triggered suspicion in Will's mind, and
he was feeling very insecure at that moment. "What do we need a look-out for Ed,
what the hell's going on?" Ed put his finger up to his lips to signal silence. "Why you
devious sod, you've trapped me haven't you? I should have known better than to
trust you people. You're going to put surveillance on somebody and you want me
to operate the instrument!"
"I told you the location would be difficult" he replied, in such a way as to try
to exonerate himself from his questionable actions. "Follow me quietly, I'll show
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you." Will followed him inside the building, his mind buzzing with the possibility of
trouble looming it's ugly head. Gerry was nowhere in sight and they climbed a
wooden stairway to the next floor, then along the empty building, to a broken
window, at the far end.
Ed once again put his finger to his lips, and pointed through the aperture. Will
raised his head and looked out across the yard to a roofed over section, open on
three sides, projecting from one of the other buildings. The area under the roof was
dimly lit but with enough light to make out a small group of men sitting on wooden
benches. They were a safe distance away, but it would stretch the instrument to
it's limit.
Ed had quickly assembled the unit and stood back for Will to set it up. "The
meeting is due to start in a few minutes at 8 o'clock. Hurry up Will, I must hear it
from the start!" Will looked into the telescope and focused it on to the group, but
after pressing the trigger all he could hear were muffled voices that were not
legible. After playing with the controls for a few minutes things got no better and
Ed was throwing a silent tantrum.
It was dark and Will was having to operate the instrument from memory when
he suddenly remembered a boost control button positioned above the trigger. The
sound of voices came romping through the headphones and a final adjustment to
eliminate some of the noise in the background, enhanced the clarity.
Without warning the voices stopped, Will panicked, thinking that the apparatus
had failed, but he had no cause for concern as a single voice could be heard. The
meeting had come to order. Will quickly passed the headphones to Ed and
watched him revelling in every word, occasionally giving the thumbs up. So far so
good Will thought, but he still felt uneasy. Ed pointed to the next floor up. "Would
you go up and check on Gerry?"
"Yes, but whatever you do, either switch off or stand back from the telescope
before you take your headphones off. If you don't, there will be an almighty wail
like a banshee. It's called acoustic feedback, and they'll hear it down there."
Will navigated the floor above but could find no sign of Gerry, and after what
seemed a long time he made his way back down, thinking that by now the meeting
below would be wrapping up. Whatever they were up to, they would not want to
prolong the issue, fearing detection themselves.
As he made his way back to the first floor he could just make out two dim
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figures at the far end. Obviously Gerry had returned by a different route. Will got
to within twenty feet of the two men when the inevitable happened and there was
nothing he could do to stop it.
Gerry was standing in front of the receiver which was mounted on the
telescope next to the window, and Ed passed the headphones to him. Will called
out in a loud whisper, "No! No!" but it was too late. The characteristic howl of
acoustic feedback pierced the silence. Ed, who had been crouching looking
through the scope was so shocked he fell to his knees, and Gerry just stood there
petrified.
Will covered the remaining distance like lightening and pushing Ed out of the
way, scooped up the instrument in one hand, and the carrying case in the other. A
quick glance through the window and across the yard, confirmed his worst fears.
Some of the men were scattering in all directions, but two or three of them were
scanning the area around the building.
Thrusting the empty instrument case into Ed's hands and still clutching the
telescope with it's tripod legs dangling like a set of bagpipes, Will accelerated
towards the stairway, which was the only way out. It would be disastrous to get
caught up there. Stopping momentarily at the top he turned to see Ed stumbling
his way across the room.
"For God's sake Ed, get a move on or you'll get caught!" Panic was showing
on his face, and his normally bulging eyes were now nearly popping out of his
head. Gerry was nowhere in sight. Where could he have gone? Ed was obviously
out of condition, he had probably never run before in his life and the suitcase was
a liability to him. Will snatched it from his hands, at the same time, tucking the
telescope under his arm.
"Try and keep up with me!" Ed did not reply and Will could hear him panting
and already out of breath. Breaking clear of the building, Will turned towards the
car.
"No, leave the car," Ed panted. Will's eyebrows wrinkled, questioning his
logic. "It's a stolen car, they won't be able to trace it back to me."
Will had no time to ponder the whys and wherefores of Ed's last statement. He
could hear voices and the sound of running feet. "Quick, follow me through the
buildings, not on the street!" and they set off as fast as they could with Will in the
lead, followed by Ed, his puffing and wheezing becoming more prominent with
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every stride. They had only seconds to spare and Will knew that they had to keep
that advantage, or suffer the consequences.
Once again, he realized that he would have to look after the welfare of a
second person, as well as saving his own skin. This was the story of his life! The
atmosphere was electric, all he knew was that he had to keep going in the
direction away from the scene, and sooner or later they would come to the
gardens.
Progress seemed painfully slow to Will as he kept stopping to push Ed along.
He would have been out of there by now, had he been on his own. The darkness
was a blessing, but he could still hear voices and footsteps from a distance behind,
indicating that they were still holding their own, but nevertheless, still being
pursued.
The gardens were now ahead. Will could faintly see the iron railings and he
stopped to look left and right down the street. It was deserted but open, there
was only one way to go. Across the street, over the fence and into the gardens,
but they would have to be quick. Ed read what was on Will's mind.
"I can't get over that fence."
"If you can't I shall have to leave you behind. If we go up the street either way
we could run into them." Will threw the case over the fence and passed the
telescope through the railings, into the shrubbery. Clambering over he landed on
soft earth.
Turning, he saw Ed frantically trying to scramble up to reach the top, but he
was hopeless. Will jumped back over and gave him a boost until he could get a
grip, then climbed back over, picking up the case and telescope. Ed's progress
over the fence was painfully slow, and he was hesitating, frightened of falling.
"Jump man, jump!" What was that zinging and popping noise? Ed fell off the
fence into the shrubs below.
"I've been shot in the leg!"
"But I didn't hear any gunfire."
"They're using high powered airguns!"
The gardens would have been a sanctuary but now that Ed had been seen they
would be followed. He was limping badly and his mind was concentrating on his
leg.
"Forget about your leg, or you might get the next one in the back of your
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head!" Will's statement had it's effect and Ed got back up to speed again. What
looked like a maintenance building appeared ahead, and Will skirted around the
back finding a single entry door.
It had a small window alongside. Quickly unscrewing one of the tripod legs,
Will used it as a tool to smash the small pane, adjacent to the latch. Reaching
inside he unlatched the door and they scrambled inside, shutting and locking the
door behind them.
They lowered themselves on to the floor in the darkness to wait, but as the
seconds ticked by Will's eyes began to make out dim shapes and he could see a
bench and some gardening tools leaning in the corner. He instinctively grabbed the
four pronged fork, and they waited for events to unfold.
Within minutes he could hear activity outside, two men only he estimated. One
came up to the door and tried the latch, pushing on the door a few times. "There's
nobody in here, the doors locked." His accent sounded European, and he could
have come from Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, or anywhere in that part of the
world. As his footsteps receded Will breathed a sigh of relief. Thank heavens he
didn't see the broken window pane! He was obviously not a professional.
Reaching down, he pushed firmly on Ed's shoulder to prevent him from
moving. His body was trembling, just like Gerald's when they were hiding in the
bushes in Hawaii. "Stay put," Will whispered. "When they can't find us in the
grounds they will come by on their way back. They haven't had time to search the
building back there, and the car will be discovered. As soon as they have gone by,
we'll wait awhile, and then leave."
It seemed an age and Will began to wonder whether they had gone back a
different way. Not knowing where they were, would make leaving difficult.
Eventually, footsteps and voices were approaching, the two men appeared to be
walking casually, and conversing with each other.
They have given up searching Will concluded, and his whole body, which had
been stiff with tension, relaxed as the men passed, and the noise they were making
became fainter, until finally all was quiet. Will waited awhile until he thought they
would be back in the buildings, then standing up placed the fork back into the
corner and turned to Ed. "Let's get going, we'll go to the opposite end of the
gardens and find a safe place to get over."
"My leg is stiff, I don't think I can walk."
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"You'll have to, I can't carry you and the equipment." Will lifted the case on to
the bench, and dissembling the unit stowed it away. Ed got up and hobbled a few
paces around the room.
"I'll go outside first and decide what to do." After a few minutes Will returned
and beckoned Ed outside. Pointing to the far end of the gardens he said. "Get
going in that direction, I'll be right behind you," and Will watched him limp away.
He was so quiet now, indicating his state of mind.
It was tortuous getting him over the fence at the far end, but soon they were
on the tramcar route, waiting at one of the stops. Looking at his watch, Will was
surprised to find that it was only 9.30 p.m. and that the general condition of their
clothing was okay. Ed seemed to be getting ready to talk.
"I owe you for getting me out of there, Gerry just buggered off and left us to
it. He knows the area better than any of us!"
"I'll just ask you for one thing."
"What's that?"
"Just go and live up in the bush, or better still New Zealand, and don't bother
me again."
Ed smiled, and Will knew that this incident would bind him even closer to the
organization.
"We'll get the first tram that goes past the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, and I'll get
this lead out of my leg. Once there, you can go on your way Will."
"What about the instrument?"
Ed replied without hesitation. "That little beauty is never going to leave my
sight. Anyway, whilst I was listening to that meeting I had another thought that I
want to get your opinion about."
Will turned to Ed. "No way will I ever go anywhere with you again, unless I've
got all the facts. Never!"
"It was pretty dumb of me Will, I must admit, and it nearly cost me everything."
Will left him in the reception at the hospital to find his way home. "Thanks for
everything, I'll be in touch." he called out. I can bank on that, Will thought.
Dorothy was still up when he arrived home. She was sitting in one of the
lounge chairs reading. "Did everything go alright?"
"Yes, but I should have worn an overall, my clothes got a bit dusty. I'm tired
so I'll go straight to bed."
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As he sank into the mattress he could picture them probing Ed's leg for that
piece of lead back at the hospital, but he was so tired he soon fell into a deep
sleep, safe and secure back in the apartment.
It had been over a month since Will left Ed in the hospital foyer that night. Was
it possible that he had fallen sick? The following week however, he got the usual
phone call. "It's Ed."
"What a blow."
"What do you mean?"
"I was hoping that you'd died." Ed burst into laughter.
"You're not going to get rid of me so easy, can we meet soon?"
"Why? Have you got another job in the pipeline?"
"No, I just want to talk to you."
"Based on the last episode, why should I believe you?”
"Trust me, I just want to talk to you about the device. I can't discuss it over the
telephone."
"Where can I meet you."
" I know of a place, a small restaurant in Spring Street. You can name the day
and time."
Will thought for a moment or two, and came to the usual inevitable conclusion,
that it would be better to get it over and done with. "Will tomorrow evening be
okay?"
Will could hear the sigh of relief over the phone. "I'll pick you up in the usual
place, say around 7 p.m."
"Just one thing Ed."
"What's that?"
"Bring your own car this time." Ed's laughter was echoing over the line as the
conversation ended. What a relief not having to lie to Dorothy. He would be able
to tell her where he was going this time. But not about Ed.
The next evening Will used up the time travelling to Spring Street to get some
answers from Ed about the surveillance.
"What happened with Gerry?"
"One of them caught up with him, but Gerry's such a big guy, he overpowered
him, but not before he caught some blows himself about the head, and a fractured
arm. He was able to finally get away. I won't be able to use him anymore, not for
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a while anyway. The fool never uses his brains, he took off when he was sighted,
instead of bluffing it out, especially as he was well away from the building."
"What was the meeting about anyway? On second thoughts I don't want to
know."
By this time the car was passing Parliament House, heading north on Spring
Street, and within minutes Ed pulled into an alleyway and parked. The restaurant
was small and cozy, Ed obviously knew his way around, and one or two people,
who seemed connected with the place, acknowledged him with a nod of the head
or wave of the hand as they both got seated at a small table, in the corner, at the
back of the room.
After ordering, Ed seemed eager to get on with the conversation, which suited
Will. "I've been taking a closer look at the listening device, and discover that it has
provision for attaching some form of sound recorder. I've searched everywhere,
but all the recorders are big reel to reel types, and they would be too cumbersome
to take on site. I've spent a lot of time trying to sort out the problem but I'm at a
dead-end. It would be the desirable combination to be able to listen and record,
but the device must be small. Can you make one up for me - a miniature one?"
Will looked at him in amazement. "You've got no idea what you're asking of
me, have you? I would need the backing of a small electronic's laboratory at the
least, and someone also who has a design background."
"I can't have anyone else involved, but I could find you the facility, at a pinch."
Both men gazed into space, the discussion seemingly at an end. Ed broke the
silence. "I need this extra device badly, no matter what it takes, and you're the only
one I can turn to."
Will looked him straight in the eye. "Are you telling me that the organization,
which I know is worldwide, can't provide you with what you want?"
Ed seemed reluctant to answer. He shifted around nervously on his chair, and
stuffed his mouth with food to give him some thinking time. It was obvious after
awhile he was not going to answer Will's question. "You're not going to answer me
are you?"
Ed looked even more uncomfortable, he glanced up briefly. "I can't."
"Well, if that's the case and you're going to get devious, why should I do
anything for you?"
"Because you have to."
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"Well! Well! Well! We're going to stoop to threats now, are we? I was
beginning to wonder when you would lower yourself to the level of the others."
Ed's face went blank and Will could not read what his next reaction would be.
Things could get ugly from now on, he thought, and he began to feel sick in the
stomach. If he got up and walked away it would be in the lap of the Gods what
would happen next. He would be completely in the dark. Will had experienced
these awkward moments on occasions in the past, and he knew that it would be
best to go along, without rocking the boat.
Ed looked up again, his face seemed more relaxed this time. "I did promise
that you wouldn't be threatened and when we went on that surveillance you could
have shot through like Gerry and left me to it, but you didn't. I'm thankful for that."
He paused to take a drink. "All I can tell you is that the organization is only in it's
infancy here. I've got plenty of contacts on the outside that I can use, but I have
to get what I want from them without their knowing what I do. If they found out,
it could expose the organization's activities and I wouldn't be able to carry on.
You've already been involved, which makes you different."
Will's instinct was to treat everything that was said with suspicion, but it did
seem odd that Ed didn't have anyone to cover even the simplest electrical task.
Perhaps what he was saying, was the truth. It would be an advantage to know
that the organization here was not yet completely up and running as a network. Ed
was waiting for him to respond.
"I get very uptight if I think my family is threatened, and things can only get
worse for me as the family grows. Just leave them alone and I'll do what I can, but
remember, I won't always be able to satisfy the requirement. I do have limitations,
but to have people around you like Gerry will be your downfall. They are dumb,
can be manipulated, and are inherently dangerous."
"Yes I know, that's why I thought it would be best all-round, if you joined the
group. The organization pays well and you would have more time for your family."
"I'm also aware of the dangerous downside to the job. Remember, I have
already experienced it, and there are other reasons why I will never join."
"What about my recorder?"
"I'll think about it. Where can I get in touch?"
"Here's a number where you can leave a message. The person on the other
end is not part of the organization, so just pass the word along for me to get in
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touch." Ed took a piece of notepaper from his pocket and wrote down the
number, pushing it across the table.
"How long will it be?"
"About a week."
Will stood up to leave. "I'll take you home," Ed said.
"No, I'd rather find my own way, if you don't mind." Will didn't look back as
he left the restaurant, even though it was about a three mile walk it would give him
enough time to get the past hour out of his system before arriving home.
What he was being asked to do was nothing more than just another technical
problem, but the atmosphere of intrigue and the possibility of being put into some
form of danger, permeated into everything. It was this uneasy feeling he wanted to
dispel, before he saw Dorothy. She may sense that something was amiss.
Three or four days went by and Will was getting no clues. He had already
spent some time looking through the large technical section in McGrath's, one of
the biggest book stores in town - with no results.
It was on the Friday night whilst flipping through some Electronic magazines
that something caught his eye, triggering a secondary thought. He had been looking
in the wrong place all along, and should have been scanning the advertisements!
The following morning was Saturday, and whilst he was in the city with Dorothy,
he made his way back up to McGrath's and started looking again.
The exercise resembled someone looking at mug shots in the police station, he
had a faint picture in his mind, but nothing definite. Half an hour later there it was.
A full page advertisement showing the latest pocket sized miniature wire recorders,
used by business executives and professional people, with two or more hours of
recording on one spool. Just the thing!
Over the weekend Will copied all the salient information by hand, ready to
pass the information on to Ed. He would never tell him where the information came
from, or how difficult it was to obtain.
Will phoned the number Ed had given him and left a message and within the
hour he was on the phone. "Have you got something for me, what can you tell
me?"
"Nothing on the phone. Can you meet me in the coffee shop down here in the
foyer in about an hour?"
"I'll be there you can be certain of that."
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Will sat in the rear of the shop drinking his coffee in full view of the foyer. He
did not have long to wait. Ed was soon advancing towards the table with a cup in
his hand, an expectant beam on this face. "Well?"
"Well what?”
“Well, I hope it's going to be worth my while."
Will reached into his attache case and produced an envelope. "You'll find
everything you need in there, all you have to do is get one of your wealthy business
contacts to get it for you, and when you have it I'll adapt it to make it compatible
with the listening device. You can keep it in your pocket whilst you're doing the
work."
Ed scanned through the notes and looked up. "Bloody marvellous, absolutely
bloody marvellous!" He could hardly contain himself. Will got up to leave.
"It's busy up there today, I'll have to get going, but before I do, a word of
warning. When you call don't trick me. I'll install and commission the recorder and
give you a crash course on the whole thing, nice and easy. Have it all laid out for
me on the telephone, where, when, and only you, no one else. If it's not clear to
me I won't come. Understood?”
Ed nodded his head, but his eyes were still twinkling at the thought of having
the facility of the recorder, and Will left him to finish his coffee.
It was nearly two months since their meeting in the restaurant before he got a
phone call. Ed's opening remarks showed a touch of humour, indicating that he
had been able to get hold of the recorder.
"I bet you were hoping I'd kicked the bucket?"
"No such luck."
"I've got the recorder and I've made the arrangements."
There was a pause and Will wondered what was coming next. "It's going to
be easy for you. Do you know Maples store in High Street, a block from you?"
"Yes."
"Well, I can use the top floor anytime I want. Does that sound okay?"
"That's fine, is there power up there? I must have it to do the conversion."
"I'll make certain we've got power, and there's plenty of windows, front and
back. When can you meet me there?"
Will wanted at least a day to sort himself out, and he didn't want to upset their
usual trip out to Vermont on Saturday. It was now Wednesday.
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"What about Friday evening around 6.30 p.m. I can get off the tram at High
Street and then walk home afterwards. Don't forget to bring everything, including
the bag of accessories."
"I won't forget, see you then." The phone went dead. Blast! I forgot to make
certain that he would be the only one there. If he wasn't on his own, Will had the
option of aborting the job. He would have to see what happened on the night.
Alighting from the tramcar Friday evening, Will walked up the High Street
towards Maples. He had realized after getting off the phone that it would be after
hours and the store would be closed. As he approached the main entrance he
could see Ed standing well back, adjacent to one of the doors.
"How do we get in, and where's the instrument?"
"Just follow me, I took the device up about ten minutes ago." Leading Will
down an alleyway at the side of the building Ed inserted a key in a side door and
they both entered. It was quiet and eerie as they made their way through the
exhibits on the main floor towards the massive stone stairway, which curved it's
way up to the next floor. All Will could hear was the muffled rattling sound of the
occasional tramcar as it careered by. They ascended the remainder of the stairs
to the top floor, and Will listened to Ed panting and wheezing. He was still out of
condition, it could be his downfall with the type of work he was engaged in.
On the landing of the last stairway they approached a small door in the corner
which led to a short flight of narrow stairs and through a second door. The size of
the room was immense and completely empty. All the windows on the High Street
side were standard tall sash type, all in line, but on the opposite side there were
only about four or five, all set into turreted projections that gave the room a unique
feature.
Walking into one of the turrets Will could see that the windows of the building
next door were only about three feet away. Ed picked up the apparatus and
deposited it at the far end of the room, next to the end window, overlooking the
street.
The equipment was battery operated, but Will needed power to do his work.
Ed pointed to a power outlet next to the window. "It's live, I've tried it out."
Ed produced the miniature recorder from his pocket. It was a professional
looking piece of equipment and expense was written all over it. As a companion,
it would match the listening device perfectly. Will foraged through the accessories
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bag and came up with the components he needed, as Ed busied himself setting up
the telescope and tripod. Within half an hour Will had patched the two machines
together, ready for a trial run. "Have you got a subject down in the street Ed?"
"Better than that. Can you see the windows on the second floor of the building
across the street? That's a Greek restaurant and we've got all the subjects we
want." Will looked out across the street and received a shock. All the windows
of the restaurant were open, it was a warm night and every window had a table
next to it with people dining, at the same time, watching the activity down in the
street.
"You must be crazy Ed, if they spot the telescope, they'll think someone's
spying on them. The Greeks' won't call the police, they'll come over personally and
fill you in. Needless to say, I won't wait around this time!"
Ed smiled. "Why do you think I chose the end window? The scope is well
hidden, don't worry."
"One trial run, no more Ed, it's too risky."
Will trained the cross hairs of the scope on two men sitting at a table near the
window, and he was dead lucky. They were talking in broken English. Switching
on the recorder he backed away still wearing the headphones. Slipping them off,
he passed them to Ed and waited for about five minutes before switching off.
Unplugging the recorder he rewound the spool and then switched to "play"
advancing the volume control.
The men's voices came through as clear as a bell. Ed was beside himself with
the result. Not willing to take any further risk, Will pulled the scope and tripod
back and away from the window, but Ed was so wound up it took some time to
bring him back down to earth again, and so enable the instruction to begin.
Will proceeded to go through the operation of the controls emphasising the
do's and don'ts whilst Ed took notes, "finally, remember what happened that night
in Carlton, that's the most important "don't."
Will was eager to get away, everything had gone smoothly and he wanted it
to remain that way. Helping Ed pack up the items the two men made their way out
of the building. As the door closed behind them and they stood in the alleyway,
Will turned to Ed.
"You've got everything you wanted so now is the time to let me get on with my
life. If the electronics break down or won't function properly you can call me, but
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no other jobs."
Ed stepped back in his characteristic style. "I'm parked at the back of the
building, you can leave in the opposite direction. Thanks for everything. Let's
hope we don't need you again, but I can't be certain about that. I have other
people making decisions for me."
Will turned and without a parting remark headed for High Street. He knew by
Ed's last statement that it may not be soon, but eventually, there would come a
time when the organization would make contact again, demanding that other work
be done, and not just electronic devices.
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Chapter 8
The Phone Tap
Will was at a loss for the next couple of weeks. He had been in touch with the
agency and was waiting for a response from them, but he had next to no other
contacts available to him. The irony was that Ed could no doubt get him what he
wanted, but the risk of being manipulated was practically a certainty. There was
plenty of work around but it was a matter of getting the right kind.
Each day that passed seemed longer, bringing another day of waiting. With no
leads coming forward, his mind was struggling with the thought that he may
eventually have to contact Ed.
Mrs. Kester, the owner of the apartments, must have noticed Will at home and
one day asked him if he was sick.
"No, the company I was with went out of business. I'm looking around for
something suitable."
"You do some form of electrical work don't you?"
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"Electronics actually."
"My brother works in the telephone workshops for the Post Office, I'll ask him
to enquire for you." Will knew next to nothing about telephone communication, but
the work might be along the right lines.
Within days Will found himself filling in an application for employment at the
engineering workshops. Situated in South Melbourne. If he landed employment
there he would be able to catch the same tram that he had always taken.
One interview later he reported for his first day. He found himself in a room
with others who were also starting that day, and each person was required to step
forward, raise his or her right hand and swear allegiance to the Queen before being
inducted into their respective departments.
There was quite a bit of communist activity in Australia at that time, it being
one of the ways of trying to keep subversion out of the Crown work places. Will
spent the next three weeks training, followed by an exam, which all happened in
the department where he would ultimately work.
It was a brand new section, employing approximately fifteen engineers
working on electronic switching circuits. The normal practice was to operate a
new section for two years, after which time, if the function was viable, it would be
allowed to continue, alternatively, it would be closed down. Will knew therefore,
that if he kept a good record, he would have at least two years of employment
ahead of him.
Crossing Toorak Road one evening, after alighting from the tram, Will noticed
a lone figure standing on the corner. He didn't recognize the clothing but that
stance was unmistakeable. It was Ed. Will quickly looked up and down the road
but he could see no car. Pretending that he hadn't noticed him, Will walked right
by him.
"Hey Will, are you trying to avoid me?"
"Whatever gave you that idea," Will replied sarcastically. "I'll never go out of
my way to make contact to end up giving myself more trouble. You're not here
to say hello are you?"
Ed took a step back in his characteristic style. "No, but I can't phone you now
the clinics gone. You're at the engineering workshops in South Melbourne now."
"You seem to have done your homework Ed, but you haven't fathomed out
yet how best you can contact me should the need arise, have you?" Ed shuffled his
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feet looking down at the pavement.
"No."
Will thought for a moment. "One thing that I am grateful for is that you haven't
come knocking on my door at home, or tried to contact me at the workshops."
There was no response from Ed. "You can't phone me any more and I want my
private life left alone. To save me any embarrassment you can always see me
during the lunch hour at the workshops. There's a small reception room in the main
entrance. The girl at the desk can phone up a message to the department prior to
12 o'clock, and I'll come down."
"Can't you occasionally phone the number I gave you, say once every week
or two?" Ed's last statement was like waving a red rag to a bull and Will raised his
voice.
"The organization doesn't own me, and I don't work for you. I only do favours
for you because I'm always under the threat of the very people back in the U.K.
who give you your orders. You must be crazy if you think I'm going to make
things easy for you!" Ed turned to leave with a parting remark.
"I'll contact you soon at the workshops."
Will watched him as he walked up Toorak Road but he had hardly gone a
hundred paces before a car passed him and drew up alongside, Ed got inside. It
wouldn't be Gerry, probably another of Ed's associates, and he no doubt knew
about Will.
As Will walked up Hawksburn Road his thoughts were filled with insecurity.
Things could get really out of hand if they started to put the pressure on, but what
could he do? How could he turn the tables and give Ed something to worry about
for a change? Any information he had gleaned about the organization seemed to
have little worth, but there was one tiny piece that may be significant, and Ed had
reminded him of it only a few minutes ago.
It was the phone number Ed had given him and as luck would have it he was
now working in the very place that could help him. The following morning Will
wasted no time. Amongst the people that he associated with in the department
was a man by the name of Don Hardiman. A bouncing little fellow with bags of
confidence which partially shrouded his inability to pronounce his "th's." Will
produced the piece of paper with the number on it. "Is there anyway I can find out
the address belonging to this number?"
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Don looked at it. "It's a Melbourne number, it should be easy. I know just the
person wiv the "know how" to do it. I fink I can get him now - actually he's in the
office down below." Will didn't have long to wait before Don thrust a piece of
paper in his hand as he passed. It had an address in Donvale written on it.
"Thanks Don, I owe you one."
"Don't fink anyfink of it."
During the course of the day Will applied for a sick day off on Monday. There
was never any problem getting a day off in a government establishment that was
officially due. It was Friday, giving him the weekend to sort himself out. On
Saturday Will bought a street guide, and during the quiet of Sunday morning drove
out to Donvale and located the address. He remained in his car some distance
away and observed, not wanting to be recognized.
What appeared to be an office, with the front window partially painted, to
prevent anyone from looking directly inside, was nestled amongst a small group of
rural type shops. The name painted in the centre of the white section matched the
address on the envelope. There was plenty of places he could park on Monday
out of sight, but still close to the office. If it was just somewhere to take phone
calls Will would have wasted his time, but he had to take the chance.
On Monday morning Dorothy left as usual around 8 o'clock to catch a train
into the city, and Will wasted no time in getting underway with the thought that Ed
would more than likely be either at the address or perhaps collecting messages
during the early part of the morning. As he drove past the shop he couldn't believe
his eyes. There was Ed's car parked outside! Will's heart started pounding, and
after parking, he contemplated sitting for awhile to gain his composure, but the
thought of missing Ed galvanized him into action.
The car was still there thank heavens! Hesitating for a second, Will pushed
open the front door. The office was of medium size with a large old-fashioned
desk in the centre of the room and sundry upright chairs placed around in no
particular order. A corridor leading to the rear and a small telephone exchange
console, indicated that there could be other offices in the building.
Seated at the console, engaged in conversation on the telephone, was an old
man dressed in a khaki shirt with rolled up sleeves and braces, which were holding
up a pair of well worn, heavy duty, belted trousers. His hair was completely grey,
and his face and arms, tanned and wrinkled. He placed the telephone back on it's
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cradle and turned around. He must be 70 years of age Will guessed, probably
more, and he could see right away that he had a pleasant, easy-going manner.
"How can I help you?”
"I've called to see Ed Blake." Will spoke in no more than a loud whisper,
hoping not to be heard if Ed was in one of the back rooms. The man stepped
forward his hand cupping his right ear.
"Did you say Ed Blake?"
"Yes."
Will waited, but he didn't ask for his name, and going back to the console rang
a number and turning his head smiled at Will. "There's someone in the office to see
you Ed," and turning his head to Will again, continued. "Go down the corridor, it's
the door at the end marked "Blake Security Consultants."
One thing was certain, Ed had told him the truth when he said that the person
taking messages was not part of the organization, the old man would have been
much more cautious otherwise. Will knocked sharply on the door several times
and Ed's muffled voice could just be distinguished. "Come in." Will pushed the
door open wide to see Ed sitting at a desk no more than ten feet away from him.
His hands appeared to be covered by the morning newspaper which was opened
out flat on the surface of the desk.
A look of disbelief came over his face and those eyes were popping out again.
"You bloody fool! What are you doing here?" He was visibly shaken. This was just
the effect Will wanted.
Will entered the room and closed the door behind him and as he turned Ed
was removing the newspaper to reveal a small pistol clutched in his right hand.
"You could have got yourself killed! What are you doing here, and how did you
find me?"
Will walked over to the desk and placing his hands on it for support leaned
over to make his point. "I've come to show you how vulnerable you are. If I
wanted to do you harm I wouldn't go to the front desk and ask for you, would I?"
Ed swallowed hard, not knowing what was coming next. "It's no good asking how
I found you, because no matter where you are, I'll be able to find you. That's the
point I want to make. Having that gun at the ready indicates that you're involved
with dangerous people. I'm glad I came."
Ed opened the drawer in the desk and putting the gun away looked up at Will,
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his face now passive. He was rapidly composing himself but non committal.
"Where do we go from here?"
Will positioned a chair on the opposite side of the desk facing Ed, and sat
down. "I need to get one or two things straightened out with you."
Ed nodded and relaxed back into his swivel chair. "Carry on."
"With the experience I've had over the last few years concerning the
organization, I know that wherever I decide to live they will always find me, if I
can be of use to them. I intend to live here in Melbourne and have no intention of
moving, consequently, I'm stuck with you and whoever your associates are." Ed's
face remained expressionless.
"I want three things from you. My family must be completely left alone, no
contact whatsoever with them. No more tricks to get something out of me. If you
want something done you have to give me at least as much information as you
would give to your agents, so that I can assess the risks. Finally, I want all the
information you have about me kept from the others. As far as they are concerned,
I'm helping you out technically, on the odd occasion. I'll never be one of your
agents, so I'll always have the privilege of resisting something that I feel might
backfire on me, or is out of the scope of my ability. To reinforce what I said in the
restaurant in Spring Street. You have to accept the fact that there will be things
that I simply cannot do, and I don't want you pressurizing me to get involved in
unnecessary risks."
Will stopped talking to await some response. Ed's mind was probably working
overtime, and the silence continued. Eventually Ed leaned forward in his chair.
"You realize I don't have to consider anything you are asking?" Will could feel his
temper rising after hearing Ed's negative comment.
"You can please yourself, but I'll resist you all the way, and make your life a
misery!"
Ed smiled. "I didn't say I wouldn't, I said I didn't have to. I see no reason why
we can't accommodate what you have asked for, but what do we get in return?"
"As you just said a moment ago, I don't have to give anything either, but I will.
You'll only get resistance from me if the nature of the work warrants it and
obviously, if things could directly affect my family."
An agreement had been reached and the two men shook hands across the
desk, Will got up to leave. What he had come for had been achieved, but Ed
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gesticulated for him to sit down.
"I was going to call at the workshops tomorrow to see you, but we might as
well talk now, if you've got the time."
"I've taken the day off, but I must get back by late afternoon. What do you
want to talk about?"
"You're doing telephone electronics now and I want to use the wire recorder
in conjunction with the telephone."
Will sucked in his breath. "Are you talking about wire tapping?"
"Yes, can you do something for me?"
"Did you know that it's a Federal offence to record from the telephone without
telling the other party first, and you have to inject a signal periodically, to remind
the person on the other end that the recording is still in progress." Ed did an
imaginary yawn, his hand in front of his mouth. Will got the message. "What I'm
trying to tell you is that I won't wire tap. I know we've just come to an agreement,
but this is asking too much."
Ed's face fell. "Is it difficult then to record off the phone lines?"
"No, quite the contrary, it's easy, and that's the problem. If the person at the
other end has any technical ability he can monitor the line and detect when you put
the tap on."
Ed was confused. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"Sure there is, and you could start as early as next week if you want. I can tell
you how to do it and make up the bits and pieces. But you have to do the line
tapping, not me."
Ed's face started to light up at the thought of achieving something. "You said
next week?"
"Yes, for a crude listening device, but next month for a more elaborate
listening, and recording apparatus. But as soon as you're underway I'm off the
hook, okay?" Will got up to leave.
"When will I hear from you?"
"Probably in about a month, that's if you're looking for complex equipment. I'll
phone here and leave a message for you, but I'll never come here again unless
things are desperate. I don't want to get my head blown off."
Will could still hear Ed chuckling as he closed the door behind him and walked
outside into a beautiful sunny Australian day. He had gone there to try and
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eliminate one problem and come out with a different one. It was the kind of
problem though that he could control and he felt more secure about his relationship
with Ed and the organization, especially with regard to his family.
Time was flying by and he had done nothing to get Ed's device underway. He
had been thinking about it from time to time but the mere fact of building it from
scratch on the dining-room table with very little equipment, seemed a daunting
task, consequently, he kept rejecting getting started on the project. It wouldn't be
long now before Ed made contact, expecting the ongoing success of previous
devices.
Was this going to be the first time that he would not be able to fulfil the
requirement? All his research into circuits seemed to produce problems until about
a week later, in seconds, everything came together, like a jigsaw puzzle.
Walking down Little Lonsdale Street in the city Will heard a voice calling his
name. "Will Brenner! Will Brenner!" He turned to see an old colleague trying to
catch up with him. The two men had not spoken since the clinic had closed so
initially the conversation was intense, but due to the noise in the vicinity he was
constantly adjusting his hearing aid volume control.
Why hadn't he thought of it before? A perfect ready made device! All it would
need was a minor adaption to connect it to the phone line. Will was so excited he
hardly dared to ask the next question. "Where do you get your hearing-aids from?"
"There's a hearing-aid place at the top of Collins Street, they do everything
there. Sell, service and supply the batteries. What do you want a hearing-aid for?
You're not going deaf are you?"
"No, I want to get hold of a second-hand one to experiment with."
Taking a small notebook and pencil from his pocket and writing down an
address tore out the page and gave it to Will. "Ask for the manager, they'll have
plenty of discarded units up there. Mention my name and he'll probably give you
what you want."
The address he was holding was only a couple of city blocks away, well within
walking distance and wondering how much longer his luck would hold, he set off
to find the place. The location was in the older section of Collins Street, and the
interior of the buildings a labyrinth of offices and small businesses.
Mounting the stairs to the third floor he finally found the place at the far end of
the corridor. On the right was a door marked "Service Department" and on the left
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another marked "Reception." Will entered the reception and asked for the
Manager. "Have you a complaint that perhaps I could attend to?"
"No, nothing like that. One of your customer's has suggested I see him about
something." A few minutes later he found himself sitting in the cramped Manager's
office with hardly enough room, Will estimated, to fully open the filing cabinet
drawers. Will opened the conversation with some apprehension. "A friend of mine
suggested I see you." He need not have worried.and after a brief introduction Will
wasted no time in getting to the point. "I'm an electronics engineer and he thought
that you might have a discarded hearing-aid I could purchase, to pull to pieces,
and play around with." The manager didn't need to stand, he just reached across
and opened one of the drawers and removing a tray, placed it in front of Will.
"Take your pick, you can have them all if you want. It's a wonder they haven't
been thrown away by now. Some of them are still working okay - they're just
old."
Will couldn't believe his eyes, anyone of them would have been suitable for
what he wanted. "How much are they?"
"Nothing. If you want them all I'll put them in a bag for you." Still reeling from
his good fortune, Will was about to leave the office without asking the most
important question.
"If I need the odd valve or component can I buy them from you?"
"Sure. If you phone ask for the Service Department. They will sort it out for
you."
Will left with his bag of goodies eager to test the units and hopefully select one
that was functioning. He had other things going on at the same time which included
the construction of a radio set that he and Dorothy badly needed. It was not an
uncommon sight therefore, for the dining-room table to be littered with electronic
bits and pieces. This enabled him to go forward with the job without any questions
from Dorothy, who was looking forward to her radio.
With more information gleaned from the telephone workshops technical
library, the unit was ready for testing on the telephone line, which was going to be
awkward but not impossible. He couldn't use any of the lines at the workshops for
fear of detection, and there was only one line supplying a single phone in the main
entrance to the apartments which was very exposed. In any case, he needed the
miniature wire recorder to complete the final testing, so he left a short message for
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Ed to meet him on the following day.
Promptly at 12 noon Will took his lunch and sat to wait for Ed in the reception
room. Half an hour passed and Ed had not appeared but shortly afterwards a
young, smartly dressed man wearing a suit and tie, came into the reception and sat
down opposite. If Ed appears now we'll have to go outside to talk, Will was
thinking.
"Are you Will Brenner?" the young man asked.
"Yes."
"Ed has asked me to collect a package for him. Do you have it?"
Will was taken completely by surprise and took a moment to gather his
thoughts together. "Who's Ed?" I don't know anything about a package."
The young man looked disappointed and perhaps a little annoyed at Will's
remark. "I know you are Will Brenner and I have to take the package back with
me."
"There are lots of people upstairs that know me too, but fortunately they are
not screwballs like you." The young man stepped between Will and the door.
"Ed's sick, he can't come. I need to have the package."
There was no way Will could ever intimate that he knew anything about Ed,
or any packages. He had never seen the man before, so it was best to be on the
safe side. He didn't look the type that would offer up any physical resistance so
Will attempted to push him to one side and a minor scuffle ensued. At that
moment, a big curly haired Australian who worked in his department appeared in
the doorway.
"Is this chap giving you agro Will? Do you want me to throw him out?" The
words were hardly out of his mouth before the young man disappeared through the
door.
"I was sitting having lunch waiting for someone. I think he was just a screwball
and mistook me for someone else."
For the rest of the day Will tried to put the incident out of his mind. Ed must
have been desperate to send somebody like that. He must surely have known what
sort of reaction he would get.
The very next day Will once again sat in the reception just in case Ed followed
through. The main entrance door opened and he could see Ed making his way
across the foyer. His shoulders were bent and Will knew by the way he was
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walking that he was finding it difficult to get around. His face looked pinched and
pale, he was obviously sick. Managing to crack a faint smile he sat down next to
Will.
"You rubbished Tony, one of my agents yesterday."
"What did you expect?"
"It was just a long shot. I knew you must have something for me, and I didn't
want to risk getting out of bed."
"I'll never deal with anyone I don't know, ever! Incidently, is your sickness
permanent or fatal?" Ed smiled faintly again but it was clear he was in no mood for
fun and games.
"You're a cruel sod Will. No, it's not fatal, it's a disease I picked up in the
jungle during the war when we were fighting the Japanese. It reappears from time
to time, but thankfully it's receding. What do you want to see me about?"
"I need the small recorder to do some final testing. Can you get it to me?"
"Are you getting close to finishing then?"
"Yes."
Ed's face began to light up at the thought of getting another device. "Would
it be okay if I sent it with Tony?"
"I guess that's okay, but not here. Tell him to wait for me to get off the tram at
Toorak and Hawksburn Roads. I'll look out for him each evening."
"He knows where that is, he was waiting for me when I met you there last
time." So that's who it was, Will thought. But it gave him no relief knowing it.
"Tony normally doesn't get involved out in the field, he's office bound, taking
care of all the interstate connections. He's a book man and only records what he
is told." That information was valuable however, and Will tucked it into the back
of his memory for future retrieval, giving no indication to Ed that it interested him.
On the third evening after seeing Ed, Will alighted from the tramcar as usual,
and there was Tony standing on the corner. He was wearing a trench coat and
cautiously approached Will, reaching inside his coat for the recorder, which
quickly changed hands.
"How's Ed?"
"He's getting better. He'll be up and about soon, thank heavens! I'm not used
to working out in the field and I'm sorry about the other day at the workshops."
He was definitely not a homosexual, but Tony's demeanour reminded him a little
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of Gerald in Hawaii. He seemed to have a similar sensitivity. Will was tempted to
push him for more information about the organization here, but refrained. There
may come a better time in the future.
Eventually after finding a suitable venue where he would not be disturbed or
questions asked, a test run of the device proved satisfactory.
Approaching noon on the Monday morning, Will was totally absorbed in his
work when he received a message that someone was waiting down in the
reception to see him. It just had to be Ed, Will thought, wanting to push him for the
device no doubt. It was only a few minutes to the lunch hour so he picked up his
sandwich box and headed down the stairs to the main entrance. Not wanting to
be taken by surprise Will stood in the far corner of the foyer, where he could
observe the waiting-room.
It was Tony, not Ed. He was seated fidgeting with a folded newspaper in his
hands. As Will observed him he seemed to get more agitated as the minutes went
by, occasionally looking into the foyer in the expectation of Will's arrival.
Approaching the waiting-room door from the side to keep the element of surprise
for the last second, he burst into the room. Tony abruptly stood up, placing his
hand on the seat to prevent himself from toppling backwards off balance, at the
same time dropping his newspaper on the floor. The look on his face indicated that
he would have preferred to have been elsewhere.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Will asked, an impatient tone in his voice.
"I told Ed never to send you here again. What's up? Is Ed still sick?" Tony looked
up after picking up his paper, eager to explain himself away, and avoid
confrontation.
"No, he's at the hospital today for a final check-up and if all's well, he'll be
back full-time tomorrow."
"What's so urgent then that he couldn't wait for another day, or so?"
"He wanted to know how you were getting along with the device."
Will was now beginning to realize that it had been a mistake to have people
appearing here, at his work place. It would eventually begin to look suspicious. "I
won't talk about the device. Tell Ed I will see him at the restaurant in Spring Street
on Wednesday night, around 7 o'clock. Tony seemed relieved to be off the hook,
swiftly making his way towards the door.
"We'll see you on Wednesday then?"
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"No, only Ed. Make sure he understands that." Tony nodded his head and
disappeared through the door. There was nothing more to be done as far as the
device was concerned, except wait for Wednesday evening.
When Wednesday finally arrived Will took a tramcar into the city and walked
up Bourke to Spring Street and crossing over the road on to the Parliament House
side, waited there. He was at least half an hour early and knew where Ed would
park so he watched for his arrival. Fifteen minutes before seven o'clock the car
pulled in and parked, but to Will's surprise in addition to Ed, two other men got
out, one of them was Tony. A mini discussion seemed to take place and Tony
went inside the restaurant and the other man walked up the street in the direction
of the Carlton Gardens. Ed then followed Tony inside.
Will was in a dilemma. He immediately became suspicious. Who was the third
man? Probably one of Ed's agents. What was going on? Was what he had just
witnessed anything to do with his meeting with Ed, or was he reading things into
the situation? No, he now had that gut feeling telling him to be careful. There had
been no indication in the past that any connection with Ed could get rough, but
there was the pistol under the newspaper episode in Ed's office, and that gut
feeling was not going away.
He now realized the stupid mistake he had made by making arrangements on
Ed's own territory, and as the months rolled by Ed was becoming better equipped
to eavesdrop. The irony of it all was that Will himself was supplying him, giving him
the opportunity to listen in on even their own conversations! He had no other
reasonable option than to go in, but he had the device in a small, flat, leather bag,
the only thing he could use to bargain with. How could he temporarily get rid of
it?
Remembering a small hotel in Exhibition Street one block away, he ran
practically all the way there to avoid being late back at the restaurant. He
addressed the clerk at the reception desk. "Can I deposit this bag here for safe
keeping for a couple of hours?"
"Are you a guest here?"
"No, but I'm a bit early meeting someone who will probably be booking in
later."
"Has he reserved a room?"
"No, but he'll be here later."
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The clerk tore a numbered ticket from a pad. "What's the name?"
"Brenner," he replied, as the man reached over for the bag.
Will was out of breath by the time he arrived back at the restaurant, but very
relieved that he had got rid of the device. It may have been a liability to him. He
quickly looked around the room for Tony but there was no sign of him. He spotted
Ed sitting at the same table as before, and looking around the immediate vicinity
he realized how easy it would be for someone to listen in to their conversation.
Will approached the table with apprehension, but trying his hardest to remain
composed. The two men shook hands.
"Well, has the doctor given you a clean bill of health Ed?"
"Yes, I'm nearly one hundred per cent again."
The two men stared into space and Will was thinking "this is the last time I'll
be coming to this restaurant."
"You gave poor old Tony the elbow again last Monday."
"Yes, I asked you specifically not to send him there again, and in future I don't
want anyone visiting the workshops anymore." Will knew at that moment that he
should cut any further conversation short and get out of there. The longer he
stayed the more insecure he would feel, and following through with the
conversation before Ed had time to respond. "I've come as a matter of courtesy.
I'll phone your number and leave a message tomorrow."
Ed's chin dropped and those eyes were popping again. As Will turned to leave
he could hear his voice. "What about the device?" But he ignored the question
leaving the restaurant as fast as his legs could carry him. Once outside, he headed
north and within minutes he was at the corner of Lonsdale Street. A tramcar was
just slowing up to turn the corner as Will jumped aboard and it sped west, heading
towards Swanston Street, where he alighted.
Feeling like a fugitive, and half panicking at the thought of being spotted by Ed
or the others, he ran to the nearest doorway out of sight, in an effort to settle down
and start thinking logically. Doubling back along Little Bourke Street to Exhibition
Street he entered the hotel from the rear to retrieve the bag, and sitting in the far
corner of the lounge with it tucked tightly under his arm, pretended to wait again
for his supposed friend to arrive.
The clerk watched him get seated. Will's brain began to tick again as opposed
to flitting from one unanswered question to another. As soon as the clerk's back
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was turned, or he was otherwise occupied, he would slip out the back way and
catch a tramcar, not on his usual route along Toorak Road (they could be waiting
there) but along Commercial Road, a block away, enabling him to get back to the
apartment via a different route.
All the way home his nerves were on edge wondering whether his actions
would bring any repercussions. He could cope with Ed or Tony, but what about
the third man? What role did he play in the organization? Fortunately, it was dark
and windy as he walked down Hawksburn Road from the other direction.
It was Autumn and the leaves were swirling and rustling, causing him to stop
periodically and listen. As soon as it was practicable he would have to get things
back on track. If they thought that he was trying to prevent them from getting the
phone tap device things could get ugly, and he started into a period of self
chastisement for allowing himself to get into such a predicament.
Dorothy was still awake, sitting listening to the radio. She never asked
questions, other than to enquire after his wellbeing and Will was thankful for that.
She emanated a feeling of normality which could be likened to a medicine for pain
during his times of stress, but during the night the slightest noise would cause him
to sit up in bed, listening intently.
"What's wrong Will?" Dorothy would ask.
"Did you hear that noise?"
"No, your hearing is too sensitive. Go back to sleep."
By the time 9 a.m. had arrived Will could wait no longer to phone Ed's office
and he recognized the old man's voice on the other end. "Could I leave a message
for Ed?"
"Are you the young Englishman that came to the office awhile ago?"
"Yes."
"Would you hold for a minute."
It was obvious that they had been waiting for his call and within a short time
Ed was on the phone. "Are you alright Will? What happened last night?"
"Listen Ed I have to be brief, I'm using the phone at work. Can you meet me
at the entrance of Prahan Market on Saturday morning around l0 a.m. I'll be
bringing something for you, is that okay?"
"I'll be there." Ed assured him, and Will put down the phone before any further
conversation could take place.
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Dorothy and Will would often go to the market. It was only a short walk from
their apartment so there would be no inconvenience. Will's anxiety receded,
knowing now that things would return to normal, at least until Saturday. There was
one thing about Ed, he could always be relied on to keep an appointment.
Will spotted him standing clear of the milling crowd entering the market his
head moving from side to side, searching. As Will approached the relief of making
contact showed on his face and Will gestured for them to walk inside.
There was always plenty of activity on Saturday mornings, and the noise
provided a necessary diversion during gaps in the conversation. As they walked
between the market stalls they talked, stopping briefly on occasion to watch the
antics of the stall holders. "What happened last Wednesday?"
"Didn't Tony tell you that you were to be the only one there?"
"Yes, and I was."
Will looked at him. "You're not telling me the truth Ed, there were two others
there."
"No, you're mistaken."
"But I saw them get out of your car and one of them was Tony and he went
into the restaurant. Was he going to listen into our conversation, and why was the
other man with you?"
Ed stopped suddenly and turned to face Will, the surprised look on his face
changing into a broad smile. "Is that all you were worried about?"
"Well, how would you have interpreted the situation?"
Both men started walking again and Will waited for Ed's reply, wondering
what he would come up with. They stopped again and Ed turned to face Will.
"Tony's girl friend works at the restaurant, he was visiting her in the kitchen."
"What about the other man?"
"He's a relative of mine. He just wanted a lift into the city."
Will was completely dumbfounded and at a loss for words. The whole
episode that night now seemed a charade. He had definitely overreacted, but what
if it had gone the other way? Ed remained silent waiting for a response from him,
but Will continued to struggle with a suitable answer. Ed, sensing the awkwardness
of the moment, brought the matter to a conclusion.
"Look Will, under the circumstances you did the right thing. Let's forget about
it and get on with the business." They were approaching a seat at the far end of the
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market and both men sat down. Will reached inside his coat and producing a
package passed it to Ed.
"Don't open it. Put it away and take out your pencil and notebook." Will
waited until he was ready. "You will find two leads inside. One attaches the
recorder to the device, it only plugs in one way, so you can't make a mistake. The
other lead plugs into the device, which has two small crocodile clips on it. Find a
junction box on the line you want to tap, remove the cover and clamp the
crocodile clips across the red and green wires. Switch on the device, and if the red
light comes on, reverse the clips. When the connections are okay a green light will
show. When the amber light flashes the telephone is ringing. Switch the recorder
on and put the earpiece in your ear and adjust the volume to suit. It's very
important to switch the recorder on before the phone stops ringing, otherwise the
person receiving the call will hear it click on. Don't switch the recorder off either
until the phone is placed back on the hook. Try it out on your own phone first."
Ed was frantically writing everything down and finally looked up. "It sounds
complicated."
"No, it's simple, just follow the instructions. I can assure you it works well but
don't tap into anyone's phone that might have some detection apparatus on the line
- Government for instance. If you get caught it's a Federal offence and they'll have
good reason to throw the book at you. Knowing the organization, they'll leave you
to cook. To them you are dispensable."
Ed still seemed to be in a daze, probably trying to assimilate the information.
"What if I can't get it to work properly?"
"If that happens I'll show you what to do on your own phone, but my job is
now finished. You've been lucky to-date getting what you want. Off you go and
play with your toy, but I won't promise to visit you in jail."
Will left, quickly joining the crowd. Looking over his shoulder he took a last
look at Ed occupied with securing his acquisition inside his coat.
It was only seconds later when he bumped into Dorothy. His heart skipped
a beat at the thought of introducing her to Ed. They walked through the market
together and Will was content to watch her selecting fruit and vegetables. He was
now moving into a period where he would be free of Ed and the organization, at
least for awhile. A comforting thought.
He would have to start thinking seriously about how he could extradite himself
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from that predicament permanently but at that moment, the possibility seemed
insurmountable. Perhaps one day in the future the opportunity would arise.
It had been quite awhile since seeing Ed at the Prahan market but when he
spotted him waiting in the usual place, it seemed as though it was only yesterday.
"So that rare disease hasn't got you yet?"
"No, I'm as fit as a fiddle, does that disappoint you?" Ed remarked, joining in
the wisecracking.
"Let's put it this way. The very day I read your name in the obituary column
I'll take my wife out to dinner."
"I sometimes wonder whether you mean what you say in jest, Will?"
"You'll never know will you Ed?" Ed shook his head.
"Will, I can't get the phone apparatus working properly, Tony and I have tried
everything. You did promise to check it out for me if I had trouble."
Will's heart sank - here we go again! It was more difficult now that his work
required only regular hours, he couldn't stay over as he did at the clinic. He would
have to tell Dorothy half-truths again. "Do you mean out at Donvale?" Ed nodded
his head. "When?"
"Would this Saturday be alright?"
"No, I can't have my weekends interrupted from now on.”
"What about Friday night? I could pick you up around say 6.30 p.m."
"Okay. Would you make sure that your instruction notes are handy?"
"Yes."
Will could see Ed's car parked in Hawksburn Road and they walked towards
it. The conversation seemed to be closed, but Ed turned as he opened the door.
"I've promised not to withhold information from you. An agent will be there from
Sydney, he's my counterpart there. Something big is coming up and we have to be
certain that the device works. It's true that we can't get it going properly and we
must have it functioning hundred per cent, because we'll only have one shot at
getting what we want."
"What's all this to do with me?"
"Nothing, except for the electronics, and you asked me as part of our
agreement not to trick you into getting any work done."
There was nothing in the arrangement up to now, that he could use, to get out
of going. "Okay, I'll see you Friday at 6.30 p.m."
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As Ed's car turned and sped down to Toorak Road. Will's mind was now torn
between all the good things that were happening in their lives, and now this, which
would be hanging over his head like a cloud.
He told Dorothy that he was going to check out somebody's audio amplifier,
which in essence was the truth, that he was going to Donvale, also the truth. He
just didn't give her any other information. Technical people talking technicalities
spell out a pretty boring scenario and Dorothy, like most people, wanted to be
spared the details - thank heavens!
The offices at Donvale were closed and the old man at the switchboard had
gone home. Ed and Will had the place to themselves as the agent from New South
Wales had not yet arrived. Ed produced the phone tap device and pointing to the
junction box just inside the door, he handed Will a screwdriver. Opening the box
revealed not two, but several wires, indicating that it served to supply Ed's phone
and also provide a junction point for the other lines. An engineer would have no
difficulty identifying Ed's individual line, but to an untrained eye it just looked a
jumbled mess.
Will looked up at Ed. "You were probably across the wrong lines."
"How was I to know that?" he said, as he hunched his shoulders. Will clipped
the jumpers across the line and the Red light came on. Reversing the clips showed
the Green light. Passing the earpiece to Ed he went over to the desk and lifted the
phone. Ed's eyes lit up. "It's working, how can we test it on an incoming call?"
"Is it possible to use a phone on one of the other lines?"
"Yes, pick up the one next to the console in the front office and dial my office
number, you'll see it listed there."
"Okay. Just remember when you hear the phone ring, start the recorder, then
answer."
Will left the room to go to the front office and when he returned the look on
Ed's face was one of excitement. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" he kept saying, but he
was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. Will removed the jumper wires
from the box and was replacing the cover when Ed and his visitor entered the
room. The agent from Sydney came over and shook Will's hand firmly and
decisively.
He was about Ed's age, but in stark contrast his suit was immaculate, and
combined with a cream shirt and green tie, his attire appeared to have just left the
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dry cleaners. When he spoke, an accent that was devoid of the Australian drawl,
showed a faint hint of English, suggesting that he had been living in Australia for
some years. Immediately taking charge of the situation, he commenced to ask Ed
questions, nodding on occasions as though in approval. I wonder if he's a big
cheese in the organization? One would tend to think so by the way he was taking
control.
All three men sat down and Will listened as the conversation progressed, at
the same time closely observing the agent from Sydney. He was certainly a
smooth operator, quietly spoken, but nevertheless forceful in getting his points
across. As time went by the content of the meeting got more intense and Will was
listening to information regarding the forthcoming phone tap in Melbourne that sent
shivers up his spine.
It was all about the communist activity in Melbourne and Sydney, and the
interception of information between the top organizers from the two cities.
Something was being planned, and the information transferred by phone in the near
future. The information that Will was hearing spelt dynamite and he felt more
uneasy by the minute. He broke into the conversation directing his words to Ed.
"Look Ed, I don't think I should be listening to this information. I thought that
all I would be involved in was the electronics, so my work is finished. The device
is working perfectly." Before Ed had time to answer, the agent cut in.
"I was under the impression Brenner, that you wanted to have the facts before
doing anything for Ed."
"But I have done what was asked of me, what more do you want?"
Ed and his associate looked across at each other during a brief pause in the
conversation, the agent then continued. "The information we want is vital to us, we
may only get this one chance. We can't risk a blunder with the equipment and you
are the only person Ed has with the expertise, so you will have to do the job."
Will felt numb, the mere thought of the consequences tightened every muscle
in his body. His face felt rigid as though it had been slapped, preventing him from
forming any words. "We know the information is safe with you. In any case, we
would know wouldn't we, if something went wrong?" It was a veiled threat, and
Will realized that any resistance on his part would only make matters worse. He
would have to wait to see what transpired, before objecting.
"I believe you're very good at your job so there shouldn't be any problems.
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You've never failed to come up with the goods to-date, have you?" Will remained
silent. This man would be going back to Sydney and his business was with Ed, he
would sort things out with him afterwards.
Ed and the agent concluded the meeting with a summary of the details and then
they left. Will heard the car start up outside and take off towards Melbourne.
When Ed returned to the office he crossed the room with his hand held high in the
air, like a policeman on traffic duty.
"I know what you're going to say, but let me have my say first. None of this
was my doing, I've been told what I must do and I know the predicament you are
in. I tried to get them to send somebody down from Sydney, but they wouldn't
have it. What arrangements we have are just between us and I'll do my best to
keep up my end of the deal. But to them it means nothing. Believe me, they'll come
down hard on you, if you don't give them what they want."
Will felt completely despondent. He knew that Ed was probably telling him
the truth and he was floundering with no other option available to him. "They do
have another electronics boffin in Sydney then?"
"Yes, just one."
"Would you do something for me Ed?"
"If I can."
"If you recruit somebody that can provide the electronic services you need,
will you tell me and leave me alone?"
"Yes I can do that, but the organization will never let you off the hook because
of what you have been involved in. The only way I can describe your plight is that
you have one foot in and one foot out of the organization. A reluctant agent, so to
speak. For my own part, as long as I get the job done in Melbourne, it won't
matter one way or the other who I use."
"I'd better stop wishing you dead then, hadn't I?" Ed smiled and nodded his
head in agreement.
The journey back to the apartment progressed in silence until it was time for
Will to get out of the car. "It will happen one Saturday afternoon or evening when
their offices are closed and they won't be interrupted. I'll let you know in good
time and we'll talk about the details then."
As Will walked up the road towards the apartment he was thinking of only one
thing. No matter what transpired he would be concentrating on saving his own
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skin. He had too much to look forward to now.
There had hardly been enough time for Will to come to terms with what was
happening to him when Ed made contact again. The building where the phone tap
was to take place had been looked over and Ed wanted to take Will for a
preliminary look. It was situated in the north end of the city centre and Will
recognized it. "I've been in this building before, the Society of Druids have their
office here."
"Yes, they are on the same floor."
It was a very old building with a cage type elevator. Will never trusted those
old elevators and took the stairs, arriving before Ed. There were plenty of people
about and as they walked past the Druids office Will glanced through the glass
window in the door to see Mr. Croft, the Secretary, busy at work.
Ed steered him to an alcove at the end of the corridor and opened the door
to a small walk-in storage cupboard. They both entered and Ed switched on the
light and closed the door behind them. "I've had this put on," he said, pointing to
a small latch and flipping it closed. "It will prevent us from being disturbed."
The one and only box mounted on the wall was obviously a telephone junction
box. Will opened the hinged lid to reveal about a fifty line facility. The technician
who had installed it had done a super job and all the pairs of wires were easily
identifiable, it would only be a matter of finding the right pair. There was a narrow
shelf at the same level, which would be ideal for resting the equipment on. Will
closed the lid and indicated to Ed that he wanted to leave, he had seen enough,
and technically, everything seemed straightforward.
Outside in the corridor Will glanced around and realized that it came to a
dead-end only a few yards past the cupboard. Turning to Ed he remarked. "If we
get caught up here we'll be trapped with only one way out." Fortunately, the office
selected to be tapped was in the other corridor on the opposite side. This fact
however, offered Will little consolation.
"This job will be easy-going and straightforward." Will laughed out loud.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I was remembering the time when you were clambering over the fence into
the Carlton Gardens that night, with lead pellets whizzing around you!" Ed fell
silent, it was a reminder of the consequences involved in the type of work he was
doing.
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The two men walked out into a street bathed in sunshine and Will remarked
to Ed. "I'll have to come back to trace the line to their office, preferably when all
the offices in the building are unoccupied."
"It will have to be late one evening, or on a Saturday or Sunday. I know the
janitor, it can be arranged anytime you want. If you like to keep the weekend
clear, we'll make it one evening."
"This is what you have to do Ed. Arrange a time when you know that their
offices are closed. At a pre-arranged time, ask Tony to dial the number from
another city location. I'll bring something with me to try and make the job easy."
"No problem. Tony can phone from the restaurant in Spring Street, their
offices are closed every evening so we could make a date now, say next Monday.
I'll pick you up at 7 p.m."
The following morning at mid morning break, Will went to see Bill Miles who
looked after the instruments for the department, booking them in and out, and
keeping them serviced. He was quiet and unassuming, the type that avoided
confrontation like the plague. They got along well together, sharing a common
interest in the electronics world.
"Is it possible to borrow a handset to check a friend's line Bill?"
"When do you want it for?"
"Monday."
"Well, as long as you take it when you leave for the day and bring it back
Tuesday first thing, it won't be necessary to book it out. Just remind me on
Monday, and I'll sort you out a good one." What a relief! He would now be able
to have two-way communication with Tony, making things much easier.
When Will left the workshops late Monday with the handset stowed away in
his attache case, the weather had changed. High winds and heavy rain were lashing
the city, with no sign of it abating. After a bite to eat he checked out his tools. It
was approaching 7 o'clock, so donning some protection from the rain he made his
way down Hawksburn Road to meet Ed. Thank goodness he was waiting, and
Will climbed into the car out of the rain.
"We couldn't have wished for a better night," Ed exclaimed, "there won't be
a soul about in that building, I bet!" He was right. The street outside was deserted,
and when they entered even the janitor failed to appear. They made their way
through the empty building and into the small locker-room. "Tony will be phoning
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in about ten minutes. Will you be ready?"
"That's plenty of time," Will replied, as he busied himself connecting up the
equipment. At precisely the time, Will started to check the pairs, and counting in
his head - 49 left, 48 left, 47 left and so on - Bingo! on the 5th pair there was the
flashing amber light. He had a connection! Quickly clipping in the hand set he
pressed the activate button.
"Is that you Tony?"
"Yes, I didn't expect you to answer."
"Put the phone down, wait two minutes and then dial again."
Will turned to Ed. "Go round to the other corridor and listen outside their
office for the phone to ring, then come back."
Will waited until it had rung at least four or five times and then answered the
call. "That's it Tony, no more," and then disconnected the equipment.
Ed was back waiting outside the door. "Yes I heard it, that's the right one, you
clever devil!"
Will was far from feeling clever however. Technically, everything had gone
perfectly, but every moment they remained there spelt danger for him, and he was
scared. Ed made for the elevator. "No, down the stairs, there may be someone
waiting to come up."
Back out on the street the rain was still pelting on to the pavement, if anything,
the intensity had increased. By the time Ed dropped Will off in Hawksburn
however, the storm had abated and as he stepped out of the car the wind had died
away leaving only the sound of rushing water as it disappeared down the
overloaded drains. Ed leaned out of the car window as Will was retrieving the
handset. "God was with us tonight Will."
"With the bad things you get up to, believe me Ed, God will never be with
you." He watched as Ed's car sped away, the butterflies were still flying around in
his stomach, a preview of what was to come, and perhaps even worse.
The conference involving the two parties between Melbourne and Sydney was
to commence around 5 p.m. on the following Saturday. All shopping and offices
closed down around mid-day leaving the city progressively dying, until around 7
or 8 p.m. as the theatres, night clubs etc. opened, and it sprang back to life again -
at least on the streets anyway.
Will's nerves began to build as the day approached. Since starting at the
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A Compelling Story of Espionage
telephone workshops he had befriended two or three people and would visit them
from time to time to build amplifiers, and engage in other technical projects, which
they had in common. The forthcoming Saturday evening therefore, was no
exception for Dorothy.
On the Saturday morning as they did their usual shopping at the market Will's
mind was totally engrossed, repeatedly going over and over the technicalities. His
attention diverted, he soon found himself at cross purposes with her. The
remainder of the afternoon was not too amiable either, consequently, as the time
drew closer to leave for his appointment with Ed, he began to dread what lay
ahead.
They arrived early, giving plenty of time to set up the equipment, and also
hopefully, not to be seen by anyone going to the office in question. As they walked
through the foyer and passed the janitor's office Ed nodded to him and he
responded. I bet he is part of the organization!
Now that things were underway Will felt strangely calm, his mind was as clear
as a bell and fully tuned to what was going on. The only thing that was bugging him
was that there was no escape route if anything went wrong. It was constantly in the
back of his mind and the thought was reinforced as they settled themselves into
that tiny cupboard and latched the door behind them.
After setting up the equipment Will passed the earpiece to Ed. Sitting on the
floor with both knees pulled up to their chests they concentrated on the control
panel, waiting for the flashing amber light to tell them that the phone was ringing.
Expecting nothing to happen for at least another half an hour they were completely
surprised by an incoming call. Will switched on the recorder and Ed listened
intently. "It's someone phoning in to say that they will be ten minutes late. This is
fantastic, the voices are crystal clear!"
"The interstate call may not be that good."
Time started to drag, adding to the discomfort of the cramped conditions. It
was way past the time that the call was due to come in and Ed was getting
despondent. "Something's wrong, our source of information has screwed up."
"Have patience Ed, perhaps they had reason to put the time of the meeting
back." Will had hardly got the words out of his mouth when the light came on.
"Quick, it's flashing, turn the recorder on."
Ed's eyes were transfixed towards the ceiling, his head tilted to one side. "It's
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them, the voices are clear," he raised his hand to put a finger in his other ear and
Will could see it shaking.
He looked up occasionally and gave the thumbs up sign, but to Will, it seemed
an age as the time dragged by. He kept glancing up at the door handle expecting
any moment that someone would try to open it. "I think they are getting ready to
wind up the meeting. My legs have gone to sleep, I'll have to get up." He struggled
in the confined space to get upright but didn't quite make it, and as he slipped back
to the floor his arm caught in the connecting wires attached to the phone line and
yanked it tight. "The line's gone dead!" he called out, and Will panicked.
"You stupid bugger, you've shorted out the line, they'll be on to us!"
Grabbing the equipment and slamming the junction box door shut he literally
dragged a bewildered Ed out into the corridor. He was desperate, his worst fears
had materialized and his brain was working like a traction engine out of control.
Then, just as if he was being guided by an unknown source, his eyes focused on
a small, stained door, set in the wall, at the end of the corridor.
It was a miniature goods elevator, used extensively in the old days before the
passenger elevators were installed, to obviate having to carry items up the stairs.
Opening the door he manipulated Ed's awkward frame into the box-like aperture.
Dumping the equipment in his lap he took hold of the operating rope and thrust it
into his hand. "Pull on this rope, it will take you down to the basement. I'll see you
at the restaurant!"
Before Ed had time to respond Will shut the door and turned to make his
getaway. As he raced up the corridor towards the stairs, he could hear a
commotion ahead of him coming from the other side. I'll never make it to the stairs,
they'll be round the bend and into his corridor by then!
He pulled up, and in desperation looked around, as he heard the noise of
running feet getting closer. It would be only seconds now before he would be
detected. The Druids office door was only two paces away and he instinctively
reached out and gripped the door knob. Looking over his shoulder he saw three
men and in unison they descended on him, pinning him against the door, forcing
him down to his knees.
"What were you doing trying to get into this office?" one of them shouted.
"Take your arm from around his throat, you'll throttle him!" someone else
called out, and finally from the third man, "lets get him back to the office!"
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Will felt himself being dragged along the polished floor by the arms and one
leg, and occasionally one of them would trip and he would be either trodden on
or feel the force of a knee. Once inside, he was dumped on the floor in a sitting
position and as he looked up he saw three men dressed in business suits looking
down at him.
"We've got the bastard boss. What will we do with him?"
Will was scared. I'll need to be superman to get out of this lot! One of the
business types got up and walked over to Will, but one of the rough characters
was pushing him in the back with his boot and he fell over on to his side.
"Leave him alone, let's find out more about him."
Will pushed himself upright. "Who are you people, are you the police?" This
brought forth a burst of raucous laughter and he felt rough hands searching his
pockets, but they wouldn't find any identification. He never carried any during his
exploits for the organization.
He was lifted up and dumped into a chair. "What's your name?"
"Brenner." It was no use lying, he would only get caught out.
"What were you doing trying to get into the Druids office?"
"I thought Mr. Croft might be still working, I wanted to see him."
"You know Mr. Croft then?"
"Yes, I was the administrator for a clinic in Collins Street that used to treat his
members. It's out of business now and I thought he might know of someone that
could get me a job."
The business type turned and spoke to one of the others. "Have you got Len
Croft's phone number?"
"No, but I can get it."
Within minutes they were dialing Mr. Croft's number and Will was praying. If
he tells them I'm an electronic's man I'm a goner! He had heard a lot of bad things
happening around town with these communist organizations.
"Hello Len, it's Henry Slater here. I've got someone in my office claiming he
knows you." he paused and then continued. "He says his name is Brenner, so you
know him?" he paused again. "Yes, he fits your description perfectly, thanks Len."
All the men in the room exchanged glances, no one knowing what to do next.
One of the rough types came over to Will and brushed his crumpled clothes down
with his hand.
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"We're sorry cobber, but we thought you were an intruder. Would you like a
drink?" Will was beside himself with relief but he had no desire to test his luck any
further.
“No thanks, I think I’ll get off home.”
As an afterthought, before leaving the room, he turned. “Could I have Len
Croft's home number?" A piece of paper was passed over. "I'll phone him at
home, I don't want to get clobbered again."
Everybody laughed as Will closed the door and made for the stairs at
breakneck speed. He cleared the building running, his nerves wound up tight and
he didn't stop until he reached the restaurant where Ed and Tony were waiting.
Ed looked across the table at him as he sat down. "They caught you, didn't
they?"
"How did you know?"
"You've got big red weals around your neck." Will instinctively pulled his coat
across to hide the marks. "How did you manage to get away?"
"It's a long story. Have you got the recording?"
"Yes, everything's fine." Will stayed awhile for a coffee and something to eat,
and to wind down. He never thought that he would be glad to be back in that
restaurant again!
He had to get a compress on his neck to help clear the redness before he went
home. It was in the early hours of the morning before he arrived back at the
apartment and climbed into bed.
"You're very late Will."
"Yes, things got a bit involved." But as he stretched out his body started to
shake, a delayed reaction from the trauma he had experienced and his eyes started
to fill with tears from the relief of being home, and safe.
"You're shivering Will. Are you cold?"
"Just a little bit."
He felt another blanket fall over him as he kept saying to himself "everything's
alright now that you're home."
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Chapter 9
Nazi Youth
Mercury Records was situated in South Melbourne, so it was back to the old
routine of catching a tramcar again when Monday morning came around. Will kept
a lookout for the usual company sign, but nothing appeared. The buildings around
him looked derelict, with broken windows, and paint peeling off the doors. He
walked back and forth, convinced that he was in the wrong location, until he
spotted the sign. Pushing open the battered old door, he entered a dilapidated
reception.
There was no one around and there was no response to his calling out. Will
meandered through a labyrinth of passageways, looking into rooms of various sizes
containing workshop tools, and in some cases, test equipment. He had practically
given up hope when he noticed a set of stairs that appeared to be leading down
into a basement. Descending to below floor level the air was distinctly cooler.
Turning at the bottom into a large room, electric light bulbs hanging from the low
ceiling were casting shadows from the numerous supporting pillars. What could
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anyone be doing in a place like this?
The earth floor was slightly damp, leaving footprints as he made his way
towards the sound of running water coming from the next room. Expecting to find
a broken water pipe, he was taken completely by surprise as he rounded the
corner to find a man dressed in tight khaki overalls, and white plimsolls, standing
next to what could be described as a continuous trough of running water. He
turned, and Will could see he was wearing no shirt under his overall. "I'm looking
for Billy Minor the Managing Director, have you see him?"
"I'm Billy Minor, are you Will Brenner from Electronic Industries?"
"Yes, I've searched everywhere for you. There doesn't seem to be anyone
around."
"No there isn't, we've just taken over the building, mainly for the constant
temperature and humidity down here, in the basement. It's necessary to keep the
Master discs in good condition." He proceeded to show Will the technicalities of
record production, and as the days passed, more and more staff appeared to take
up their various roles.
After three weeks, Will had consumed enough information to satisfy what
would be required for his needs, and returning to the main plant he discovered a
staff of six women and two men waiting for him, one of the women to run his small
office.
The machines to produce the records were now getting ready to go. Will was
by now, getting used to being moved around, and he soon got himself organized
in his new setting. Things were made easier in this instance by Joanna, the Dutch
girl, who was looking after his office. She was a very efficient type, enabling Will
to get out where the action was taking place, as opposed to being imprisoned by
paperwork.
Two of the women and one man were checking all the records as they came
off the machines. Both rejects and good products were then taken to a small
sorting-room and finally packed by the remaining women. The long playing
records were expensive items, their value at that time was the equivalent of one
third of an average weekly wage, consequently, strict security was constantly in
force and one of Will's prime duties. Everything, including rejects, were kept under
lock and key twenty-four hours a day.
Will's assistant, Mike Cowley, looked after the final inspection and packing.
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He was a slim, happy-go-lucky type, and there were very few problems with his
department. Everything seemed to be going like clockwork, until one day, Joanna
failed to balance the quantities by fifty records. Suspecting an error, they checked
their entries and the stock many times, but with the same result.
Someone was stealing the stock and probably selling it. Suspecting the theft's
were taking place out amongst the production presses before transfer to the secure
area at final inspection, Will checked out the process there, but failed to come up
with anything tangible, that could point to a flaw in the security chain. While this
was going on, a second batch was discovered missing. He had sworn Joanna to
secrecy, hoping to resolve the matter, but it was now time for more positive action.
Will called his assistant Mike Cowley, into the office. "Mike, someone's
stealing the stock. Have you got any ideas?"
Mike looked taken aback. "No, it can't be anyone in my department, our
security regimes are all in place and working one hundred per cent." At that
moment Joanna left the room and Mike turned to Will. "The only unauthorized
person I can think of, and he only seems to come here when you're away, is
Joanna's husband. He works down on production test." He hesitated.
"Is there more? If there is, I want to know about it."
"People that work with him reckon that he was part of the Hitler Youth
Movement during the war, and that he married a Dutch girl, and took on a Dutch
name, to hide the fact. He's not a very likeable character - too forceful for most
people."
"Are you telling me that he's a Nazi?"
"That's what some people think."
Fortunately Stefan, Joanna's husband, did not come under Will's jurisdiction.
He had enough problems to deal with.
As one last try to resolve the matter, Will thought it best to go down to
Stefan's department and make a few discreet enquiries. The reaction he received
from his immediate superiors validated Mike's previous statements.
"Where is Stefan now?"
"He's with someone over in the salvage department."
Most rejects from production of any value ended up in the salvage department
where they were sold off to the staff at a reduced rate. It was a way of controlling
the destiny of faulty components that were not scheduled for destruction,
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preventing them from getting inadvertently assembled into newly produced
products. He knew where the salvage department was situated, and made his way
there.
He was very surprised to find the door to the small entrance open, but no one
in attendance behind the counter. Usually, if the door was open there was always
someone in there, alternatively, the door was locked.
Walking behind the counter he entered the salvage room which was cluttered
with dozens of metal shelving sections, barely leaving enough room to walk
between them. The shelves were stacked with items from floor to ceiling, and
even though the room was large, some 50 feet long, Will estimated, it was
impossible to see through to the space beyond two or three racks.
Standing for a moment after closing the door, he could hear the sound of
raised voices, coming from what appeared to be the far corner. One voice was
aggressive, the other defensive. Will could not mistake the guttural intonation of
the German language and occasional words that he understood from the war.
Gestapo, Fatherland and others, the defensive voice replying, "Nien, Nien, Nien!"
over and over again.
As Will approached the direction of the sounds, he could hear the metallic
noise of the racks vibrating, due to movement, and he could only come to the
conclusion that the two people involved were engaged in some form of physical,
as well as vocal confrontation.
He stopped short as a small gap in one of the racks allowed him to see through
and observe what was going on. Stefan was gripping the other man by the throat
who Will recognized as a immigrant of German origin, and with every forceful
vocal onslaught from Stefan, he was being pushed into the rack in an effort to
reinforce his point.
Will hesitated, then returned to the door, quietly letting himself out. There was
no point in talking to Stefan under the circumstances, he had seen enough. There
seemed no doubt by Stefan's insane behaviour, what everyone was saying, had
an element of truth about it.
Why would Stefan get himself involved this way if he was trying to hide the
truth? The answer lay in the fact that he had been brainwashed by the Hitler
Youth Movement and it would take a good many years to get it out of his system.
In the meantime, the German on the receiving end of Stefan's indoctrination, would
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have to suffer.
Within the week more discs were missing, this time the most expensive in
production. Will knew that Stefan had not been up into the department, so Mike's
inference was unfounded. Realizing that there was nothing more he could do, Will
called in the company police, and after a short investigation, they called in the
regular police.
Two detectives from the Criminal Investigation Department conducted
interviews, and everyone came under suspicion. The whole department was under
a cloud, and the normally simple action of leaving the factory to go home became
a burden, with the possibility of being watched or stopped, always in the forefront
of the mind.
Another week went by, and one morning, about an hour after arriving, Will
asked to see Mike.
"He's not in yet."
"Is he sick?"
"We don't know, he hasn't phoned in."
Will dismissed it from his mind. Mike very rarely took time off. Around 11.30
a.m. the two detectives walked into his office. "We've caught the crook, you won't
have any further incidents."
"Who was it?"
"Your assistant, Mike Cowley."
Will was stunned. "How was it possible?"
"Well, we watched everyone leaving each night, looking for bags large enough
to carry the loot, and when Mike Cowley was crossing the foyer last night, two
records fell out from under his jacket coat on to the floor. He'd made the mistake
of hiding them upside down and they slipped out of their covers."
Mike disappeared never to be seen again and Will breathed a sigh of relief as
things quickly returned to normal. At least it appeared that way, until Will noticed
a change in Joanna's demeanour.
She would take occasional day's off which she had never done before, and she
seemed far from being on top of her work. It was getting to the stage where Will
was going to have to approach her about it, and he wasn't relishing the idea.
Fortunately, his hesitation provided an opportunity for someone to give him the
information he wanted.
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Every morning, before work started, Will would make it his business to walk
around the various places where the staff were located to say "hello" and give them
the opportunity to get any problems they might have, off their chest. After seeing
the women in final inspection he left to get back to his office, with the thought in his
mind that he would have to ask Joanna if there was anything wrong.
"Mr. Brenner, Mr. Brenner!" Will turned to see one of the women hurrying
to catch up. She stopped, but hesitated.
"Is there something I can do for you?" She hesitated briefly again.
"No, not for me, it's Joanna. Do you know about her?"
"The only thing I do know is that she doesn't seem to be too happy over recent
times, and I was hoping she would tell me what was troubling her."
"She'll never do that. It's that pig of a husband, he's abusing her!" Will was
taken completely by surprise, it was the last thing he expected.
"But there's no marks on her face."
"No, he's cunning, only beating her about the arms and body, that's why she
wears a long sleeve blouse to hide the bruises. Her body is sometimes so sore she
has to take a day off." The woman's intensely enquiring gaze was demanding
some sort of positive response.
"I'll sort the matter out believe me, I'll see that it gets stopped."
"You won't tell her that I told you?"
"No, I won't even talk to her about it. There'll be other ways."
"The sooner the better," the woman remarked, as she walked away.
Casting his mind back, Will began to realize that the abuse must have been
going on for some time. He shuddered at the thought of what he had witnessed in
the salvage department, being applied to Joanna.
For the next couple of days, after overcoming his initial anger, his feelings
turned to frustration, not knowing the right way to approach the problem without
implicating himself and making matters worse for Joanna. He knew however, that
to procrastinate would not solve anything, and instead he would have to tackle
things head-on.
The whole production plant came to a grinding halt at l2 noon for the lunch
period and the vibrating sounds of activity dropped to a whisper. Joanna had left
the office to sit with the women in the final inspection, and Will sat alone eating his
sandwiches, but as the time drew close to getting started again, Will heard a voice
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coming from the close vicinity of his office.
“Mr. Brenner’s office is over there.” It was a woman’s voice directing
someone. Will waited, it must be a stranger to the factory he was thinking, but
when the door opened he nearly fell off his chair. It was Ed standing there
grinning.
"I've come to prove that I can find you, no matter where you are."
Will remembered his first visit to Donvale where he had spoken the very same
words to Ed. "Touche," Will remarked, but for some unknown reason, he felt no
resentment for him, being here at his place of work. "How did you get past
security?"
"Easy, I just asked for you and signed in."
"What name did you use, Brown or Smith?"
Ed smiled. "You haven't castigated me for being here yet, are you mellowing
with age?"
"No, I was just about to ask you how the deceit, subterfuge, and all the other
low forms of life you get up to, are getting along?"
"That's more like the old Will I once knew. Everything's going fine, thanks."
"It can't be going that good, otherwise you wouldn't be here."
Before Ed had time to speak Will put his finger up to his lips to stop any
further conversation, and standing up, pointed to the door, and both men left the
office. As they entered the main production area, the noise level returned to normal
again, as work resumed, and Will steered Ed over to the area where the record
presses were operating. The hissing of escaping air as the machines opened
provided an ideal sound buffer to prevent being overheard. They stood in the
corner away from the activity of production, Will moved closer to speak directly
into Ed's ear.
"I don't have to remind you that you're in an electronic environment here,
we've had some recent problems with theft, and the C.I.D. caught the person
involved but I can't be sure that they didn't bug my office. I can't find one, but you
cannot be too careful."
Ed nodded his head. "There is something I wanted to see you about, but it's
not urgent."
"Nothing is ever urgent until you bring it up and then guess what? It suddenly
becomes urgent."
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Ed chuckled, accepting that Will's comment was valid. "Can we make
arrangements to meet?"
Even though it was secure from eavesdropping, it was difficult to converse. "I'll
see you out of the building, it will look legitimate by security. Wait here for a
minute while I tell my office where I'll be."
The company had several government contracts underway, and by the time
they had passed the radio sonde production, Ed was positively drooling. "That's
where they make the little electronic devices that are attached to weather balloons.
It transmit's information back down to the ground. Am I right?"
"Yes you're right, and I know what you are thinking, but you can forget about
it. If you broach the subject in the future, I'll be only too happy to tell you why you
should forget about it."
Ed gave no expression, but Will knew that something had registered in his
mind, and it would only be a matter of time before he would want something done.
Will watched, as Ed signed out of security and they both walked out into the
street.
Will commenced by giving Ed a warning. "Only come here if it's urgent." Ed
nodded. "I'll give you my office extension number, you can leave a message with
the woman there. Her name is Joanna, I'll phone your office." Ed's face lit up and
Will continued. "Now what did you want to see me about?"
"I don't want to keep you in suspense, how soon can I see you? It's no big
deal, but the sooner the better."
"Here we go again! One minute it's not urgent, now it's the sooner the better."
Ed took a deep breath, he had a look of despondency on his face. " You're
putting the wrong emphasis on things, and I don't want to sound like a broken
gramophone record, but there is definitely no big deal, and it's truly not urgent. I
just didn't want you to live from day to day wondering what you were going to be
hit with next."
It was obvious to Will that he was trying his hardest to do the right thing. "I get
home at least an hour before my wife, I could see you at 4.30 p.m. this afternoon,
outside the factory."
"That's great. I'll be in my car and we can drive to Hawksburn, close to your
apartment and you can leave when you're ready."
On his way back to his office his brain was buzzing. Ed was a reality in his life,
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and he would soon have an extra load to occupy his mind. Opening the door
revealed his boss, sitting in his chair.
"Down here slumming are we?"
He lifted his tall stick-like figure out of Will's chair, and turned to Joanna.
"Could you leave us for a few minutes, we'll let you know when we are finished."
As usual he came straight to the point. He was to be moved to another factory
and he had no more than a month to pass over his responsibilities to someone else,
before transferring there.
As he called Joanna back into the office he became painfully aware that he
now had three factors to consider. The problem with Joanna's husband Stefan,
which had now become urgent. Ed's demands, whatever they turned out to be,
and the move to the new factory. He was now finding it a strain to keep his mind
on the job.
At the close of production Will hurried down to find Ed waiting, and got into
his car, it would only be a few minutes drive home. Instead of stopping on Toorak
Road opposite his street, he drove past and pulled into a small deserted cul-desac.
"So this is where you hide the car when you make contact?"
Ed gave a wry smile. "Yes, it's very convenient. In future, this is where I'll be
if I need to pick you up." Will nodded in approval and Ed continued. "We've been
watching your involvement with this company and we're impressed."
"That's what everyone keeps saying, and if it was just a compliment it would
be good, but coupled with the praise is always a demand, even from the company.
What's your demand?"
Ed was getting used to Will's blunt remarks. His facial expression hardly
changed. "Remember when we first talked in Rumplemeyers restaurant that day?"
Will nodded. "Well, until now you haven't been in a position to help us out in one
regard, but now you are."
"What are you after, another electronic device?"
"No, it's to do with the European situation, and things have crystalized a bit for
us now. There's just a couple of areas that we are concentrating on at the
moment. One is the Yugoslav community."
Will quickly interjected. "You shrewd devil, you know that I've been involved
with these people, don't you? You've been watching my activities, haven't you?"
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"Yes, but only since you left the telephone workshops."
"What's the other area you want to talk about?"
"Israel intelligence are after all the war criminals, plus any information about
Nazis who have emigrated here. If we can get information about them, and pass
it on, then the Israeli's, in return, will reciprocate with information that we want."
At the mention of Nazi's Will's mind was suddenly triggered. A picture of
Stefan came into his mind, and his brain shifted gear. This may be a way of
resolving that particular problem, at least, it was worth pursuing. Ed was still
talking whilst Will was thinking.
"You're moving about amongst these people especially in this large company.
It's a slow process, and whatever you come across, we'd like to hear about it."
Will had made up his mind about Stefan and would worry about the
consequences later. His abuse of Joanna had to stop. Ed had stopped talking and
was waiting for Will to respond.
"I'll do a deal with you Ed."
"Not another one!"
"This girl Joanna, who works in my office, is being physically abused by her
husband. I've been thinking about going to the police to get it stopped." Ed
laughed out loud.
"You must be crazy! The police are nothing more than a bunch of lawyers,
running around with badges on. It would take them forever. Just think of how
many forms they would have to fill in!"
"She is definitely Dutch, but I have reason to believe that her husband Stefan,
has taken on a Dutch name to hide his past. Without him knowing it, I listened in
whilst he was trying to physically persuade another German immigrant to do
something that he didn't want to do. By the sound of his objections, I'm convinced
that he was attempting to recruit this man into some sort of movement, possibly
similar to the Hitler Youth, and his bombastic, egotistical nature shouts out that he
could have originated from the Nazi Youth Corps."
Ed attempted to speak but Will carried on. "I haven't finished yet. If I find out
for you that he is part of some movement, no matter how small, will you see to it
that he's stopped from abusing his wife, or better still, removed from the scene?"
Ed didn't pause to think. "If you do what you say you'll do, we will do our
part. You can rely on that."
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"There is one more thing."
"Oh no, not more conditions!"
Will chuckled. "With regard to the Yugoslavs, I'm not going to spy on them
without moral justification. They've treated me well."
"No, I don't want you to do that, listen to what they have to say about the
Croats. We can't find out where they hold their meetings, and only occasionally get
information regarding locations, after they have taken place. They never seem to
meet in the same place twice."
"Okay, but my prime concern at the moment is centred on this Nazi. I'll have
the information for you in a couple of days, and I want you to act quickly."
It was getting close to Dorothy arriving home as Will walked up Hawksburn
Road. It was always a pleasant walk up that road but his mind was troubled. In
one day he had been launched back into the fray, and already calculating what he
should do tomorrow. Arriving at the apartment simultaneously with Dorothy,
prompted the obvious question.
"You're late Will?"
"Yes, I've had quite a day." Over their evening meal they discussed Will's
move to the new factory.
The next day Will went over to Stefan's department to ask where he could be
located, and was delighted to hear that he had been sent over to one of the
subsidiary companies for the day. Down in the salvage department the German
was working alone, and Will closed the door behind him and locked it from the
inside. It was quite often closed to the staff, so no one would suspect that anything
was amiss.
The German got up from his chair. He was a quiet man, in his late twenties or
early thirties, always ready to oblige and Will was already regretting what he was
going to have to do.
"What are you locking the door for?" he queried, an apprehensive look on his
face.
"I want a chat with you and don't want us to be disturbed. Your name is
Klaus, isn't it?"
Klaus moved to the far wall, putting as much distance between himself and
Will as he could, his whole body language and facial expressions were changing
to fear, and for a moment Will felt sympathy welling up inside, and he strived to
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control it. Klaus had no doubt suffered the torments of Stefan, and probably others
for too long, and confrontation of any sort soon reduced him to what Will was
witnessing, a person who was expecting the worst.
He was starting to shake as if he had a fever, his cheeks quivering. Will moved
closer and Klaus appeared to visibly shrink in size as his shoulders hunched down
even further. "Stefan is trying to force you into joining his group, isn't he?"
"Nien, Nien, Nien." came the familiar reply that he had heard only a short
while ago, during the confrontation with Stefan.
"You're lying to me, because you are frightened."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"You're frightened for your family, aren't you?"
Klaus looked terrified, but said nothing. Will knew that it was time to deliver
the blow.
"What will happen to your family when the immigration authorities learn of your
ties to Stefan and his group, you won't be able to help them then, will you? You
are immigrants aren't you? They won't tolerate having Nazis here in Australia, will
they?"
Klaus collapsed into a heap on the floor. "What do you want, what do you
want?" he kept saying.
"Where and when does Stefan hold his meetings? He has to be stopped. He
will drag you and your family into deep trouble with the authorities."
In a voice hardly perceptible, Will heard what he wanted. "I'll help you, please
help me." Will helped Klaus up from the floor and seated him in his chair.
The information flowed freely and it's content more revealing than Will could
have imagined. He looked at this pathetic man and the feelings of wartime came
flooding back to him. What must he have suffered as a German since the war had
ended? It was all over for the time being, Will had got what he came for, but he
felt far from happy about it. To be truthful, he was downright ashamed of what had
just transpired.
"Believe me Klaus, Stefan's bullying, and threatening others, as well as
yourself. I promise you he will eventually be stopped, and you'll not be bothered
by him again. In the meantime, both you and I will have to suffer a little longer, but
I'll be on your side, no one will know what's going on. What happened here today,
will be our secret."
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Back in his office Will was trying to suppress the uneasy feeling he had in his
stomach, but he had to act right away. Picking up the phone he dialled Ed's
number and left a message with the old man for Ed to meet him outside the factory
at 4.30 p.m. that day. Will was on tenterhooks, waiting for the close of production,
expecting chaos to break out at any moment, should Stefan get a hint of what was
going on. But nothing happened.
Ed was waiting, and he needled Will all the way home for the information, but
Will wanted to impart what he'd learned, get some assurances, and then get out
of the car. He'd had enough trauma for one day. The car pulled into the same
dead-end street near the apartment.
"Before I give you any information, I want your promise that you'll go through
with your part of the deal. If you don't, I'm up the creek without a paddle."
"I can assure you that your Stefan will give no more trouble." Will recoiled at
the intonation of the remark. He knew that the Israeli's were totally dedicated, and
would go to the ends of the earth to get justice, in whatever form.
"There's not going to be any killing is there?" Will questioned, as things were
now out of his control, and there would be no turning back.
"No, no killing. One day he'll be here, the next day gone." Will passed the
information over, and Ed drew a sharp intake of breath. "This is good stuff, how
did you get it so quickly?" Will gave him a knowing look. "Okay I remember, you
look after your business and I'll look after mine."
As the car sped away Will realized that the next few days would be crucial.
Each day that followed he went to see Klaus to check whether there had been any
repercussions, but none occurred. Stefan was engaging in his usual activities and
Will was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong. The waiting game was
as bad as the action, Will concluded.
Another day passed and no word from Ed. Will was getting tempted to make
contact, but knowing that he had passed things over to the Israeli's, he felt that it
would probably be a fruitless exercise.
Arriving early the next morning, Will sat at his desk going over the work,
scheduled for that day. Production workers were appearing in dribs and drabs,
it was a typical start for the day. A frantic scuffling outside the door arrested Will's
attention, making him stand up in anticipation. The door opened and Stefan burst
into the office.
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His eyes were blazing, and his posture threatening. His arms were raised,
ready to attack, and Will noticed blood on his hands. For one brief instant Will
was scared, and then a rage took over him to a degree he had never experienced
before. The feeling was so powerful that he felt capable of picking up the solid
oak desk in front of him, and squashing this imbecile of a man under it. Stefan
took a step forward and the two men were only the desk width apart.
He screamed at the top of his voice. "You reported me and now you'll get
what's coming to you!"
Will leaned forward, the feeling in his whole body seemed impervious to
damage. "Please, please, give me an excuse to break every bone in your body,
you bloody arrogant Nazi!" he shouted.
The look on Stefan's face changed from blazing anger to puzzlement. He had
obviously expected Will to retreat, as all his victims did. Picking up the closest item
on the desk, he stepped back, and threw it with all his force at Will. It smashed
with a shattering sound against the wall and turning, he headed back towards the
door.
Will was still incensed, and picking up a paperweight, threw it towards
Stefan's receding figure, hitting him on the back of the neck, it's force causing him
to stumble to his knees. He scrambled to his feet and proceeded to run through the
production department at full speed, with Will close behind. Employee's stood with
their mouths open, or scrambled to get out of the way. This would be something
for them to talk about for some time to come.
With each step Will's anger was dissipating, and his thinking process started
to return to normal. What was he chasing Stefan for? What about Klaus?
Changing his direction he headed for the salvage department. Klaus was sitting in
his usual chair, his head bowed and resting on the desk, he looked up as Will
entered. Blood was running from his nose and mouth.
"I'm sorry Will. If I hadn't told him about you, he would have killed me."
Will helped him from the chair. "Let's get you up to surgery. It's all over now,
I don't think we'll be seeing Stefan around anymore."
"But he'll come back for me and my family."
"I don't think he will be living in Australia ever again."
Klaus looked up at Will, and Will could just see the resemblance of a smile
through the blood.
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Back in his office the phone was ringing. All the questions and answers would
now start, Will was thinking.
It was Ed. "There's been a minor slip-up, we think he's heading your way."
"Too late Ed, he's been here trying to kill everybody. Can't you folks ever get
it right first time?"
"It was immigration that fouled up, they arrived too late and he was on to them.
Has he hurt you?"
"No."
"That's a relief, we believe he's carrying a gun. I must get going, I'll see you
outside the factory at 4.30 p.m."
Will sat down his stomach turning to knots, and his mouth went dry. What if
Stefan had pulled a gun? He shook his head to try and remove the thought from
his mind.
Will took two of the women and went to see Joanna at home and found her
in a terrible state. Leaving the women with her he knew that it would only be a
matter of time before she would realize Stefan would never be around to abuse
her, and she could get on with a normal life. Everyone at the factory thought it was
just another internal dispute. They would never know the truth of the matter.
Ed was sitting in his car at 4.30 p.m. a wide grin on his face. "That information
was red hot, and they even uncovered more. They've taken six others in that are
implicated. Incidentally, how did Stefan know that you were involved?"
"I just had to do things quickly, and left myself wide open. I won't do that
again. They won't let him out will they?"
"No way! He'll be deported when he has served time, what they were plotting
to do would make you shudder!"
Will got out of the car in Toorak Road. "Don't call me, I'll call you." Ed
smiled and drove away.
The move to the new factory will be welcome now, he was thinking, as he
walked home eager to see Dorothy.
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Chapter 10
Serbs and Croats
Will became progressively more despondent as time went by, constantly
looking forward to the day when he could find the opportunity to extradite himself
from the position he was in, without it affecting his income.
The long journey home after stressful days allowed him to unwind, and getting
off the bus in Vermont seemed a million miles away from the problems, which was
a godsend. Dorothy was busy getting the items necessary to turn their new house
into a home and thankfully, in this regard, everything was going according to plan.
It was one hot and dusty evening as Will alighted from the bus to see a familiar
figure waiting. With all the trauma going on at work he had practically forgotten
about Ed, but there he was like a bad penny. They stood, each looking at the
other, awaiting some form of response. Will spoke first.
"I was just thinking what bad penny is likely to turn up next and look, here you
are!" Ed laughed, he seemed in a good mood.
"I'm glad to see that you haven't changed."
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"Now that I live out in the bush it must be more difficult to make contact," Will
paused, "I hope!"
"As a matter of fact it's easier. You are closer to my office in Donvale than you
were in Hawksburn."
"I should have taken that into consideration and had a house built on the other
side of town, in any case I've been away since 6 o'clock this morning and want to
get home. What is it that you want?"
"Only some more advice, that's all."
"About another electronic device no doubt?"
"Yes, when can we get together? At my office or perhaps at my home? I don't
live very far from here."
"No, I don't want to be seen connected with you, but I will meet you."
"Where then?"
"There's a dirt road that connects with the main road to Park Orchards, it's on
the right about a quarter of a mile from Mitcham Road."
"Yes, it goes deeper into the pine forest."
"Drive down about a couple of hundred yards to a pull-in and wait there. It will
have to be daytime, Saturday afternoon around 2 o'clock would be okay, but I'll
only have a hour, perhaps less."
"That will be fine, but why no objections?"
"I don't mind talking, but if you try to coherse me into another job then you'll
get some resistance."
Will walked down the road to his house on the side of the hill and he looked
across at the foothills on the other side of the valley. The sun was sinking low in the
sky, creating patches of reddish brown colours amongst the trees. It felt good to
be home and it counterbalanced any thoughts he had about getting involved with
Ed again.
The constant activity at his place of work made the days fly by and Saturday
appeared out of nowhere. Dorothy was always busy, either around the house or
garden and this day was no exception. Excusing himself for an hour was no
problem and Will drove to North Mitcham about one and a half miles away and
parked the car with others, close to a gas station. To be cautious, he had decided
to walk the remaining quarter of a mile through the forest.
The whole area around Park Orchards was one big pine plantation. The
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terrain undulated, reminding him of that time in Chesapeake Bay. It was a hot still
afternoon as he entered the forest and within minutes he observed the bright reds,
blues, greens and purples of the Rosella parrots, accompanied by their chattering
as they flitted in and out amongst the trees. Approaching the meeting place, Will
looked down through the trees to see the roof of Ed's car. He had reversed it off
the dirt track.
Circling around amongst the trees to get a better look Will ascertained that he
was on his own. Walking on pine needles suppressed the sound of every footstep
as Will approached the car from behind. Ed was expecting to see Will's car come
up the track and he was concentrating in that direction.
Rapping sharply on the side window shocked Ed back to reality, a frightened
look on his face. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"To keep you on your toes, I thought two cars would attract more attention
than one," Will replied, as he got into the car. "I'm short on time Ed, so can we get
started?"
Ed nodded. "I'm getting a lot of pressure from my superiors to get more
information about what the Serbs and Croats are up to, and I'm getting nowhere.
The main purpose is to find out if their activities are just local, or maybe state, or
even nationally sponsored. Individual groups are so tightly knit, consisting mainly
of family members and relatives, that it's practically impossible to penetrate and
find out what's going on."
"I sympathize with you Ed, but I was under the impression that you wanted
advice about electronics."
"I'll be coming to that later, but we're desperate for leads. Can you tap into
your Serb contacts and unearth something for us?"
"Look here Ed, you can't talk to me as though I was one of your agents. I'm
not. Yes I have friends in the Serbian community but it would be disastrous for me
to start asking questions, if anything transpired that could connect me, I'd be in the
soup. In any case, I see very little of them now.
Ed looked discouraged, his chin was on the ground. "If only you could come
up with something like the information you got about Stefan."
"That was pure coincidence and I've only experienced one incident since."
Ed perked up, a look of expectancy on his face. "What incident? Are you
holding something back from me?"
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"No, it involved a skirmish between a Jew and a German, but he's legitimate,
as all the Germans are at the factory. All straightforward family men. Perhaps you
might have forgotten, but there are lots of ordinary folk out there." Ed's face fell
again and Will continued, "you've always kept your promise in regard to our
arrangement and never put the pressure on me by using threats and I appreciate
that. What do you really want from me?"
Ed's face lit up again, his emotions had been up and down like a yoyo on a
string. "Make casual contact with your Serbian friends again. Try and find out
where the Croatians are holding their meetings so that we can start meaningful
surveillance, which brings me to this." Reaching into the rear seat of the car he
recovered a package that Will immediately recognized. It was a Radio Sonde
transmitter. "Can you convert this for me?"
Will burst into uncontrollable laughter to Ed's questioning look. "You've just
gone to all the trouble of telling me how difficult it is to penetrate these Croat
groups and then show me this monstrosity of a device that would be impossible to
conceal. How do you propose getting it into their meetings?"
Ed thought for a minute before answering. "I was hoping you would have the
answer to that."
"You must think I'm a magician, but apart from that, it would be much easier
to detect than your miniature recorder, which would be more practical to hide
before the meeting and collect afterwards."
Ed's brain was ticking over, trying to absorb what Will was saying.
“It would have to be started hours before the meeting got going and would
probably run out of spool.”
Ed was totally concentrating on Will. An expectant look on his face. Will was
tempted to keep him dangling on the end of a string, but had second thoughts.
"That's where Telemetry comes in."
"What's Telemetry?"
"I could make the Radio Sonde trigger the recorder anytime you want, from
half a mile away."
Ed's eyes positively twinkled. "You mean I could press a button here and start
the recorder going in Mitcham?"
"Yes."
It was hot in the car leading both men to get out and sit under the shade of the
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trees. Looking around, Will was finding it difficult to reconcile the content of the
conversation that they were having in comparison with the natural surroundings. He
could have sat there for awhile longer but time was slipping by and he needed to
get back.
"If the radio sonde is stolen I can't take it. How did you get it?"
"I had someone purchase it for me legitimately. I guessed you would ask so
I brought the receipt."
"I'll take it then but I can't promise a result, and the same goes for the Serbian
contact, but I'll try."
"At least I can tell my superiors that things are progressing and get them off my
back for awhile. You'll phone me if you get any leads?"
"Yes, but don't hold your breath, it could be awhile."
Will waited until he heard Ed's car speed up as it reached the tarmac road and
then walked back through the forest to his car. Glancing at his watch indicated that
only half an hour had elapsed since his arrival, it had seemed longer than that. Now
ignoring the serenity of the trees and birds his mind was concentrating on what had
transpired. The electronics, once again, would only offer up problems that were
logic and surmountable, but contacting his Serbian friends was another matter. It
was not going to be easy getting the information without telling them why he
wanted it. Dealing with humans was far more complex than electronic devices.
Taking the easy path Will concentrated his spare time on developing the
device. Telemetry was not new and there was plenty of information available. The
Radio Sonde transmitter was faulty, but this was expected considering it had been
purchased from the salvage department of the company, but spare parts were
readily available.
Deciding to play things by ear he phoned the South Yarra factory to initially
make contact with the Yugoslav’s but the phone was dead. Another call informed
him that the factory had been disbanded and there whereabouts unknown. It
would have been ideal to have organized what may have appeared to be a chance
meeting and let things take their natural course from there. Will's reluctance grew,
until he finally decided not to do anything, except complete the transmitting device.
They had now well and truly settled in Vermont and he was inwardly objecting
to anything that would upset their future. It was Will's birthday and he was
experiencing one of his worst days at the factory. Everything had backfired and he
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was finding it extremely difficult to keep control of the situation. Standing for a
moment at final inspection, looking across to what could only be described as the
battle lines, he had the compelling desire to walk out of that factory and never
return.
"Will Brenner!" He knew that voice penetrating the sounds of production, and
turning in that direction there were his Serbian friends Ivan and Bart approaching,
broad smiles on their faces! Ed's request never entered his mind at that moment,
just the sight of two friendly faces was the tonic he needed.
Ivan, before he emigrated, was an officer in the Serbian army, and during
World War 2 found himself in England, eventually marrying an English girl before
they immigrated. Bart had a more shady past. Will eventually learned that he was
involved with the Mafia, mainly working with drugs on the black market, and his
immigration to Australia came in a timely manner, as the police were getting very
close to finding out about his activities.
His wife Ina, was from Austrian nobility, and they lived in one of the many
castles dotted around Europe that Bart used for his illegal activities.
It was impossible to recognize them as brothers. Ivan was a small man with
thinning dark hair, his features dominated by the full growth of a military style
moustache. He had a likable personality. In contrast, Bart was a big, bald, white
faced man, towering over Ivan, not fat, but disproportionate in his posture.
When they walked together Ivan's springy step and swaggering gait looked
healthy and positive. In comparison, Bart looked clumsy, his movements out of
phase, the motion of someone out of condition. On the surface he had a jovial
personality, but his mood could change in an instant to that of antagonism.
"What are you both doing up here? Looking for employment I hope!" Ivan
was the first to speak.
"No, they send us to various factories to do temporary work, we're like hired
guns. Knowing you were here we thought we'd look you up. How are you
faring?"
Will steered them to a quiet location where they could talk. "It's a shocking
place to work, and I'm looking for a way to get back to the main plant, but seeing
you has made my day."
Ivan turned to Bart. "Go and sort out what we have to do, I want a word with
Will." They watched as Bart's ungainly gait crossed the production floor in the
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direction of the polishing department.
"You've built a house in Vermont Will?"
"Yes."
"Are there any more vacant blocks of land still available?"
"Several, and most have good views. Are you thinking of building up there?"
"Yes, I've got a job with a furniture company less than half a mile from
Vermont, and would like to build my own place."
"Why don't you come up at the weekend to have a look, say Sunday
afternoon, and bring your wife along? I'll get an up-to-date plan of the plots still
vacant, and their prices from the estate agent for you."
"That would be great, we'll be there."
Will's mind had settled down and starting to tick over again. "How is the
Serbian community getting on?"
"We've had some trouble recently, only last week actually."
"I'm sorry to hear that, is it bad?"
"Yes it is, it's to do with the fighting between the Croats and ourselves. I try
to keep out of it because as you know I'm married to an English girl. There's a
revenge thing going on at the moment."
"What brought that about?"
"I wouldn't want to tell you in case you get involved."
"I think I should at least be interested in your problems, even though I may not
be of any help."
"Well, there's always fighting going on, it's politically instigated, originating from
the old country. We've been fighting one another for decades over there. I don't
think it will ever stop."
"Why continue the animosity over here where everybody is trying to start a
new life for themselves?"
"The hatred is so deep it will happen anywhere in the world, where Serbians
and Croatians live in close proximity."
"What's caused this recent flare up?"
"The Croats abducted one of our young men. He was at the gathering you
went to at Bart's place - you probably didn't meet him. He's only seventeen and
they dumped him on the road in the High Street late one night, to make it look like
an accident." Ivan hesitated.
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"What do you mean, an accident?"
"Their favourite weapon is the motor car. They held him down and ran over
him to make it look like a genuine hit and run, there's a good chance he won't
survive."
Will's mind painted the terrible picture and he felt sick. "What do the police
say?"
Ivan smiled and reiterated a statement he had heard from Ed. "They can't do
anything, we have to handle these things ourselves. I must get to work now, Bart
will be wondering where I've got to. There's nothing you or I can do. Look
forward to seeing you on Sunday."
Will's mind was now in top gear, if only Ivan knew that there was something
he could do! Waiting his opportunity during the course of the day when Ivan was
out of the way, he approached Bart, Will knew from his past that he would be
somehow involved. It would have to be quick before Ivan returned.
"Ivan has told me about your recent trouble, you've saved my skin in the past
and now I think I can help you." Bart looked at Will, a quizzical smile on his face
as if to say "no way, you haven't got a clue."
"Believe me, I can help you." The look on Bart's face changed. "I need to see
you alone, and you mustn't tell Ivan about our conversation."
"Okay, I'll listen to what you have to say. I'm using my car today and I'll be
dropping Ivan off at his home, if you come with us I can take you home and we
can talk."
Will hurried to leave the scene before Ivan returned. Later, the three men were
squeezed in Bart's tiny European station wagon, there was hardly enough room left
to deposit their sandwich boxes. It's tiny motor must do a 100 miles per gallon,
Will was thinking. After dropping Ivan off, Will remained in the rear seat to give
Bart more room for driving and they proceeded to head east on Canterbury Road
towards Vermont. Bart turned his head briefly to look at Will in the back. "Well,
what's this all about?"
"You don't know who kidnapped your youngster do you? And unless you get
the right person, a mere retaliation won't get the results you want, will it?"
"How do you know what I do, and don't know?"
"Ivan would have told me if things were being taken care of but he didn't, so
naturally I gathered that you can't find out, can you?" There was a long silence.
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"No, we can't find out."
"The reason is because you find it just as difficult to get information about
them, as they do about you, isn't that correct?"
"Yes, but how is it possible for you to be of any help? You may turn out to be
more trouble than you are worth."
"But Bart, you've got nothing to lose. I don't want any information about what
you and your colleagues are doing and I'll be open with you. If I knew where the
Croats hold their meetings, whatever information I get back, I'll pass on to you."
"Who's going to get this information for you, how can I trust them?"
"I have a friend that owes me favours, he won't know anything about you. You
won't exist as far as he's concerned, but if there's anyone that can get information
about the Croats, he can. He has no connections with either side. All he needs to
know is where the Croats hold their meetings, that's all."
The rest of the journey to Vermont was spent in virtual silence until they
arrived. "They never meet in the same place twice, and even though we know
where and when they meet, we never find out what is discussed."
Will made his final remark before leaving the car. "Trust me, and I'll help you."
"Okay. I'll get the information to you about the next couple of meetings and
then wait to hear from you."
Will was elated, this would be good news for Ed, but as he walked down the
road to his house the imaginary picture of the young Serbian kept resurfacing.
Some of these people were highly dangerous and he would have to keep as far
away from them as he possibly could.
Nothing transpired the next day, but Ed was waiting for him that evening.
Looking down in the dumps he had obviously been expecting Will to contact him.
"I hadn't heard from you."
"I told you not to hold your breath. You admit to getting nowhere and you
have full-time resources available to you, what do you expect from me in two or
three weeks?"
"You've made your point Will, I'll leave you alone and wait to hear from you."
Ed started walking back towards his car which was parked in the narrow
service road outside the local hardware store. Will followed close behind. Ed
stopped and turned around, a bemused look on his face. "What are you following
me for?"
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"I thought you might want to see me on Friday evening next, when I get off the
bus."
Ed stepped forward and gripped Will's arm, a blatant look of expectancy on
his face. "You son-of-a-bitch! You've got a break through, haven't you?"
"Maybe."
"Tell me about it."
"I can't, it may be Friday, or not until next week - I don't really know. All I can
say is, when the information appears I think you'll be pleased."
"You didn't leave yourself open this time did you?"
"No, I owe them a favour. When I get the information I'll want something from
you in return, similar to the Stefan affair."
"If the information you pass over is as good as that you can have what you
want. Just ask."
At the close of production on Friday, nothing had happened. Will waited until
the factory was virtually empty but still no one made contact. As Will waited for
a later bus he couldn't get rid of the feeling that Bart may have changed his mind
and that he would have to go back to square one. Missing his usual connections
made him over an hour late arriving in Vermont.
He spotted Ed pacing up and down in front of the General Store on the
corner. He ran over, a look of relief on his face. "I was beginning to think that
something had happened to you."
"No, I waited back at the factory but no one made contact, I'm a bit peeved
and disappointed."
"Do you think somebody has had cold feet?"
"I don't think so. Everything was firm, I don't expect them to let me down
because it's to their benefit also. They would have been in touch had anything gone
wrong."
Ed shrugged his shoulders. "We'll have to wait until next week now, it can't be
helped."
"Just in case something transpires can I contact you more direct? You
probably won't be in your office during the weekend.”
Ed gave Will his home phone number. "I can be here in fifteen or twenty
minutes, if need be."
Dorothy was washing up the dishes as Will entered the kitchen door. "You're
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very late Will, I've had my meal. Can I have your lunch box to wash?"
Will reached inside his attache case for the lunch box and flipped open the lid.
Sitting on top of the lunch wrapper was an envelope. Dropping the box into the
sink Will took the envelope into the lounge and opened it. Inside was a plain piece
of white paper with three locations and times written on it, plus where required, a
brief note for clarification.
Filled with excitement Will felt the urge to run up to the phone by the General
Store and call Ed, but he curbed his impulse and sat down to a belated dinner.
After the meal was over he copied the information to keep for reference, and
without any further delay, phoned Ed.
It was getting dusk as Ed's car circled around the four roads that converged
into the centre of sleepy Vermont. Will got into the seat next to him and before he
could engage him in conversation passed over the piece of paper with the
information written on it. Ed reached into the glove box for a torch. "How did you
get this? It's only been an hour or so since we met."
"It had been put in my lunch box during the afternoon and I didn't find it until
I got home."
Ed laughed. "That's a unique way to transfer information." He focused the light
on the paper and read the contents. "Are these dates and times of meetings?"
"Yes."
"This is good news, and this information will give me lots to go at, we'll have
to start planning." Will jumped in before he could continue.
"Before you get too hyped up, remember we have our own arrangement to
consider first, in any case, you have plenty of time before the first date."
"You're right Will, I guess I got a bit over enthusiastic. What do you want
done?"
"I can't discuss anything at the moment, there's not enough time. Meet me
tomorrow at the same place and time, as last week."
Relieved to have passed the information on Will returned home. All he had to
do now was fulfil his own end of the bargain with Bart. Things would be touch and
go right up to that time, Will suspected.
Ed's car was waiting as before, reversed off the road. This time he was ready
for Will's unorthodox arrival. Will hesitated when he saw Tony sitting in the rear
seat, but Tony was not a problem in his mind, and he dismissed his presence. Ed
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spoke first. "Hello Will, I've brought Tony along, as you know he does all the
recording of the information, so I thought it might be a good idea for him to listen
in."
"Provided my name doesn't appear in his records I don't mind."
"Your name will never appear in my records," came the reassuring remark
from Tony."
"Can I come and check that out?"
Tony started to stutter and Ed cut in. "He's only pulling your leg. Now Will,
what do you want from me?"
"If you succeed in getting good recordings they will be in Yugoslav, have you
got someone that can translate?"
"Yes."
"Well, once you've translated I want the loan of the original recording and the
recorder for a few days, then you can have them back."
Ed and Tony exchanged glances and Ed replied. "It's impossible for us to do
that."
"But you'll surely make a translated duplicate copy before I get the spool, so
what's the problem?"
"We can't let the information go because it will be classified."
Will was stunned, the whole arrangement with Bart was going up in smoke and
he would be left in a very precarious position. He could not let that happen. "You
promised me that I could have what I wanted if I got you the information. I've
come up with my part of the bargain and now you're reneging on your end of the
deal."
Will waited for a response, but nothing came. "Okay Ed, it's apparent that
you're not going to do the right thing. Before I go I want to tell you this. You'll get
no more information from me, I'll see to it that the information I've just given you
gets corrupted, and consequently useless to you, and I'll let my sources know who
you are so that I can keep myself clear of trouble. No more electronic devices,
and if the organization resorts to threats, I'll make your life a misery, and that goes
for you too Tony."
Will jumped out of the car and climbed the bank into the forest. He was upset
and felt sick to his stomach, the thought of going back to Bart was too humiliating
to even think about. He had sold himself to the Serbs in return for reciprocal
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information, and now he would have to destroy everything he had built. What a
mess it all seemed and how stupid he had been to trust Ed, or anyone from the
organization. He'd been a fool and now he was going to have to pay for it.
Striding on up the incline he could hear Ed's characteristic wheezing and
panting as he tried to catch up. Turning momentarily, he could see that Ed was
about to collapse on the ground, his tortured breathing was similar to someone
going through an asthmatic attack, Will stopped. "My God, you're in poor
condition, it will be your downfall one day!" Will sat on the ground next to him
waiting for him to recover. He eventually spoke through catches of breath.
"Look Will, I couldn't agree to anything while Tony was there. Any
arrangements we have are strictly between you and me."
"What I couldn't understand Ed, was that you're constantly bending the rules,
and in this one case you were not prepared to go along. It was a mistake to bring
Tony."
"I guess you're right, it was a mistake. Where do we go from here?"
"I've had my say. I think you should straighten out your end with Tony over
the weekend, then meet me off the bus on Monday night and let me know what
you've decided to do."
Will got up and walked away before Ed could answer, and he did not look
back. He must know by now, that I'm pretty upset with what's gone on Will
thought, and as he made his way back to the car his mind remained troubled.
The encounter with Ed was still paramount in his mind as he went about his
chores back at the house. He was rapidly coming to the conclusion that next week
could be the worst period in his life - with the frightening thought of an unknown
outcome.
Dorothy was preparing something to eat and they eventually sat down
together. Totally engrossed in his own problems Will failed to notice that there was
something different about her. It was the way she was reacting and it was now so
obvious that he was getting the message. "Is there something the matter?"
"Yes."
Fearing the worst on top of his already troubled mind Will hesitated before
asking the obvious question, but by now she was smiling, and he was puzzled.
"You're going to be a father," she said, and it was as if the words were
delivered by the force of a cannon blasting every remnant of his problems with the
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organization into oblivion, and for the remainder of that day they talked about the
forthcoming event. The baby was due in May of the following year, and in the full
light of the following day Will was beginning to realize the full implication it was
going to have on their future.
His mind was oscillating between the memorable times ahead and the stark
reality that his involvement with Ed and the organization could affect the very
stability of the family they were trying to build. He would keep the fact that
Dorothy was pregnant from Ed, or anything for that matter regarding the family,
even though there was an element of trust.
It was the unknown members of the organization he was fearful of, and it was
going to be paramount that he learn more about the others, which was something
he had always avoided in the past. Tony was Ed's achilles heel, and Will would no
longer wait for an opportune moment, but would now force the matter to the
forefront as soon as he could, without creating a backlash from the organization.
It was later in the afternoon when Ivan and his wife Eve, arrived to look at
land. His brother Bart was with them and at the first opportunity Will approached
him. "Thanks for your letter."
"Was it what you wanted?"
"Perfect, just what the doctor ordered. It will be put to use on the dates and
you'll get the results as soon as I get them." Bart nodded his head, there was no
need for further conversation.
The first plot of land that Ivan looked at was situated on the bend of the road.
A super position, the land rising and spanning the bend like an auditorium, with an
excellent view. Ivan's enthusiasm got the better of him and even though the grass
was three foot high he ran up to the centre of the block to get a better idea of the
view. Within seconds he let out a scream and left the plot like an Olympic runner.
A short time later, a six foot brown snake slithered across the road towards
the creek, on the other side. At that time of day it was not uncommon to see them
heading down for water. Ivan and his wife, eventually chose a plot of land in the
same street as Dorothy and Will, and they were to live in a caravan until the home
they were building became habitable.
Back at the factory on Monday morning, the trials and skirmishes of
production now seemed petty and insignificant in comparison to the forthcoming
event, and Will's outlook changed for the better, allowing him to brush aside the
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negative happenings. As he got off the bus at the end of the day he was feeling
good and eager to get home to Dorothy.
Ed's figure loomed from the doorway of the General Store, bringing Will's
thoughts crashing back to reality, the fact that he had arranged to meet him that
evening had completely slipped his mind. Will pointed down Boronia Road "Let's
walk." The Vermont junction comprised only four or five shops and within minutes
they were virtually in the countryside.
"We veered off on the wrong tack last Saturday, Will. Tony and I both know
that without the information you've provided, and everything else as well, we
would be at a standstill with the Serb/Croat surveillance. You can have the
recorded information in whatever form you want, to play back to your contact."
"The reason I want the recording is because I need to verify the authenticity
of the information."
"We realized that afterwards Will. It was stupid of me."
"I can rely on you then?"
"Yes."
"I must get home now Ed, let me know how you get on."
"Before you go, did you have a look at the transmitter?"
"Yes, but I need the recorder to complete the job."
"I've got it in the car, you can have it now. Will I be able to see you soon
because the first surveillance date is only three weeks away?"
Will thought for a moment remembering that he had better get more ambitious.
"I'll come to your office after the old man leaves next Friday night."
During the course of the week Will completed the surveillance transmitter. It
was a pretty primitive arrangement but nevertheless efficient, and housed so that
it could be hidden in a small bag or attache case. There would be no prizes for this
device, but it worked well, which was the main requirement.
On Friday evening, Will entered the outer office. As anticipated, the old man
had left so he proceeded to the end of the corridor and knocked on Ed's door,
entering without waiting for permission. Ed sat at his desk engrossed in
paperwork, he looked up without any surprise on his face.
"It's a change to come into your office without being confronted with a pistol."
Ed opened his desk drawer, took out the pistol, replaced it, and closed the
drawer. "If needed it's available."
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The next hour involved discussing the transmitting device and Ed was getting
more excited by the minute in anticipation of a demonstration. Placing the recorder
on standby, next to a radio in Ed's office, they left to drive about half a mile down
the road, to test the unit out. Ed opened the attache case and pressed the button.
The verification light failed to come on. Ed frantically pressed the button several
times, then turned to Will. "It's not working, what's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, this is your first lesson on what not to do. The radio waves are
suppressed by the metal around us in the car. The receiver operating the recorder
won't work properly either, if there's lots of metal around it. Step outside the car
and try again."
This time the light came on indicating that the recorder was now operating and
Ed's face beamed. Waiting a couple of minutes the button was pressed again and
the light went out. Back at the office everything had operated without a hitch and
Ed was over the moon.
"Now that you've got the transmitter I want to warn you Ed before you start
any serious surveillance on these people. If they find out what you're doing, they'll
kill you."
Ed looked at Will out of the corner of his eye. "Are you trying to frighten me
Will?"
"Yes, because they've just done that to somebody and they make it look like
an accident," Will now had Ed's full attention. "They will probably be bragging
about it at the meetings and if we can get that on the recording so as to pinpoint
those responsible, my contacts will keep supplying information."
"I can see now why you were so adamant about getting the recordings." The
conversation subsided and both men stared into space, involved in their own
thoughts. Ed broke the silence. "I'm really concerned that I'll fail to get the results
from the first surveillance. I badly need your technical expertise Will, can you help
me out?"
"I think I've gone far enough, but I also have a need for the outcome to be
productive. I must have the weekend to think about it."
"When will I see you again? There's not much time left to get everything
organized."
"Around mid-week say Wednesday night, here at your office."
During his journey home on Wednesday, Will concentrated his thoughts
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around the forthcoming surveillance and what he would tell Ed that evening. The
overriding factor was that he had promised Bart results, and knew that if he wasn't
there to see for himself how the outcome evolved, success or failure, he would
have to accept the result second-hand and not know whether he was being told
the truth or a lie. He had to take the risk and go.
Ed was waiting, eager for Will's decision. "I'll give a definite yes or no when
I've heard what you've planned to do."
"We've had some meetings to thrash out the details. These Croats are certainly
going to great lengths to prevent being spied on. Going out into the middle of Port
Philip Bay on a hired pleasure boat is certainly unique!" Ed was about to continue
when the door opened and Tony walked in, "this is the man with all the details,
he'll explain everything to you."
Tony opened his briefcase and removing a folder opened it out on the desk.
"There will be four, possibly five agents involved to cover all the bases." As he
outlined the plan Will began to realize that they were going all out to get a good
result.
Early on the appointed Sunday morning the pleasure steamer would leave it's
dock in South Melbourne and go to the embarkation point which was the pier at
Point Ormond. When everybody had embarked, the steamer skipper would leave
and go ashore and a Croat skipper would take over for the excursion out into the
bay, thereby keeping top security. A recorder would be put on the steamer before
it left the dock and another recorder planted in the building on the pier, where the
Croats would wait for the steamer to arrive. The organization would arrange for
a delayed arrival at Point Ormond, to enable conversation to be recorded whilst
everybody was waiting for the steamer to arrive.
"You seem to have covered just about everything," Will remarked, "there's
virtually nothing for me to do."
Ed smiled. "You're not going to get away that easy, we want you to plant the
recorders on the boat and at the pier."
Will sat bolt upright and swallowed hard. "What will you be doing, sitting at
home with your feet up, I suppose?"
"No, we'll be with you all the way. The steamer skipper is taken care of and
we've already had a look at the building on the pier. All we want you to do is
choose the places where to hide the recorder, in case we make a mistake."
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That didn't sound too bad but Will was perfectly aware of the fact that
unforseen circumstances could occur, turning the best laid plans upside down.
"You seem confident but there's one flaw in your plan."
Ed and Tony stared at each other across the table and their minds must have
been working overtime. "Everything seems straightforward to me. Where's the
flaw?" Tony asked.
"I'll give you an analogy. An athlete doesn't sit at home until the Olympic
Games start and then try to get a gold medal on the day. He practices. You should
have a dry run one week before, to make sure any hitches are ironed out, it will
give you a better chance on the day."
Ed turned to Tony. "Why didn't you think of that?" his voice taking on a teasing
tone.
Tony shrugged his shoulders. "What do you have in mind Will?"
"First, let me have a look at both locations, then we can do the dry run."
After arrangements had been made Will left and headed home. His mind was
churning over the pro's and con's trying to second guess the problems that could
likely occur. His idea for the pre-visit and dry run at the location of the surveillance
had a strong element of self preservation built into it for him, giving him the
opportunity to foresee any obvious danger that may present itself. It held very little
consolation however, the fact remained that here he was, once again, up to his
neck in the organization activities.
Will stood on the wharf in Port Melbourne looking at a small pleasure boat,
with the wheelhouse up forrard. The passenger deck was roofed over and glass
windows extending along both sides to give shelter from the wind. He realized
immediately that there would be no problems with regard to radio transmission as
the superstructure was made entirely from wood. It would only be a matter of
finding a suitable place to plant the recorder.
Tony had arranged for the skipper and his crew of one to be away for lunch,
leaving the boat vacant for uninterrupted inspection. Ed arrived, and they both
walked along the short gangplank and stepped down on to the deck, the centre
part of which was taken up by wooden seats, all facing the wheelhouse. The seats
were fixtures so it was obvious where the person conducting the meeting would
have to stand to be heard.
Standing on the spot himself, Will studied the structures in the near vicinity.
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Several lockers, against the wheelhouse wall containing lifejackets were poorly
positioned for sound reception, as they were at floor level, and would be behind
the speakers. Will shifted his attention to the roof covering the deck, and he was
drawn to the square lattice design of the ceiling.
Ventilators from air scoops over the wheelhouse supplied cool air for the
enclosed deck whilst the boat was moving. Due to age their efficiency would now
be in question, which was evident when Will attempted to remove the cover with
some difficulty. There was plenty of room inside for the recorder and it was an
ideal position.
Will turned to Ed. "This is where the recorder will have to be put, it's very
important that it lies with the microphone pointing downwards, otherwise you will
only get muffled sounds."
"I thought you would be putting it in."
"I can't be here and at Point Ormond at the same time, and the recorder must
be checked and placed in position shortly before the boat leaves - lets say a
couple of hours before. Give the job to someone you can trust." Ed nodded.
After a final look around they left for the short drive to Point Ormond. Will had
never been to the location before and he was banking on there being adjoining
rooms for someone to hide and operate the recorder manually, but that was not
to be.
The building where people would be likely to congregate whilst waiting for a
boat to arrive was a single detached structure with no second storey. Another
telemetry device would have to be built and the recorder on the pier operated
from a transmitter, as with the one on the boat.
Ed panicked. "We won't have enough time to get it built and tested." His tone
was questioning, awaiting an answer from Will.
"How do you know how long it will take? Do you know the technical makeup
of the device?"
"No, I don't."
"Then I'd suggest you concentrate on keeping your own house in order, to
prevent the job from being fouled up. In other words mind your own business, the
device will be ready on time."
Looking on the other side of the inlet, a short distance from the pier, the land
rose into a small hill covered with tee trees. "Try and find a place up there to hide
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the car and be able to view the pier," Will suggested to Ed, "in the meantime, I'll
find the best place for the recorder."
With everything in situ Will checked the operation of the transmitter from the
location on the hill and it worked fine, much to Ed's delight. It would not be
necessary now for a dry run at this location as the whole affair would be under his
control, but the planting of the device on the boat at Port Melbourne, by an agent,
would have to be verified.
On the drive back home Will discussed once again the procurement of the
recordings for his own use. "Do you possess a reel-to-reel tape recorder?"
"Yes, but it's too big for surveillance work."
"I wasn't thinking of surveillance. It would be much more practical to transfer
the wire spools to tape. The flexibility would be apparent."
"Can I do the transfer easily?"
"Yes, I can provide you with the patching leads, you can then just loan me the
tape. I wouldn't need the wire recorder, my contact would have reel-to-reel."
"As you wish, we can sort it all out when we get the results."
The dry run at Port Melbourne went well which surprised everyone and it was
now only a matter of sweating it out until the day arrived. Will's interest in sound
reproduction had been building for some time and he was now a member of the
Institute of Recording Engineers. Ironically, the Institute held it's meetings a few
doors away from the restaurant that Ed frequented.
Amongst other things Will was now cutting his own discs and had a small
recording studio and workshop at home. His outside activities were accepted by
Dorothy, consequently, the comings and goings at odd times were never suspect.
The forthcoming addition to the family was never very far from his mind and it
conflicted drastically with his association with the organization and it's dangers to
himself or his family.
These thoughts were prevalent as he arose in the early hours of Sunday
morning for the surveillance of the first Croat meeting. It was warm but the sun had
not yet appeared. After collecting what was required and placing the items in his
car he returned to the bedroom to say goodbye to Dorothy, hoping that she had
awakened, but she was still fast asleep. Bending down he kissed her gently on the
cheek and then left the house and got into his car. Releasing the brake lever he let
the car roll to the end of the long sloping drive before starting it to prevent waking
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her up, heading off to meet Ed at his office in Donvale and eventual transfer to his
car. It would be at least half an hour before arriving at Point Ormond.
There had been a slight change of plan and Will would not have to plant the
recorder on the pier. He was thankful for that, less exposure meant less danger
to him. Very little conversation took place on the drive down, it was sporadic and
meaningless indicating the tension they were both feeling. Will's mind was a blank,
just waiting for some action to set it going, like the pendulum of a clock, and he
knew Ed was having the same experience.
The car came to a halt amongst the tee trees and Will looked through the
windshield down to the deserted pier below. To their right the red glow of the
rising sun was beginning to filter through the trees and there was no wind. It was
going to be an ideal day for recording sound.
Will fed the temporary antenna through the car window and pressed the button
several times to put the recorder through it's paces and then settled down to wait.
The scheduled time for the arrival of the boat was at least three hours away, a
good half an hour of that time was the delay, organized by Ed's agents at the other
end, in Port Melbourne.
As time passed the tensions grew and Will's joke with regard to the possibility
that they may have changed the venue didn't go down too well with Ed, bringing
on more silence and with it more tension. Time was now practically standing still
and instead of becoming more vigilant as the time approached, their minds
wandered, occasionally settling down into their seats to close their eyes.
Will sat up to stretch his arms and legs and observe the scene below. He was
shocked to see that a car had already arrived. Alerting Ed, they both watched for
some minutes, but no one got out. "Damn!" Ed exclaimed, "we've missed them,
they've already gone in, now we don't know how many got out of the car!"
At that moment all four doors opened wide and five men got out and after
locking the car walked towards the building on the pier. There were seats inside
and Will knew that's where they would go to await the boat's arrival. Will handed
the transmitter to Ed. "How would you like the privilege of opening the show?"
"I'd be delighted," Ed replied, as he crooked his finger like a dignitary about
to launch the city's illuminations at Christmas. Both men laughed, the tension was
to a large degree gone, and their minds were working again.
Very soon afterwards other cars arrived, until a total of twenty men had
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assembled. Will looked at them through a pair of army field glasses he had
procured during the war, trying to fix some of their characteristics in his memory.
Occasionally, someone would walk to the end of the pier and look out across the
Bay, obviously looking for the boat. When it eventually appeared and drew up
alongside the pier the men started to leave the building. Ed reached for the button.
"No not yet, wait until you can count all twenty men."
After a few minutes Ed replied. "They are all at the boat." Will crossed his
fingers and the two men looked anxiously at each other.
"This is the moment of truth Ed," as he watched him press the button. The first
indicator light went out and the second one lit. It was like winning the lottery!
As the pleasure boat pulled away from the pier the figures of the skipper and
his engineer could be seen walking back along the pier. The boat was now fully in
the hands of the Croats and they would now feel secure enough hopefully, to let
go all of their secrets.
They watched and waited until the boat was way out into the bay. Suddenly,
the indicator light on the transmitter went out, Ed nearly had a fit. "Blast, just when
everything was going well." Will laughed. "I can't see what there is to laugh about,
I know you've got a sadistic sense of humour, but we are losing the best part."
Will laughed again. "You silly old bugger, the boats out of range, the recorder
will still be going."
Ed looked sheepish. "Why do I keep putting my foot in my mouth?"
A couple of fishermen had arrived and the odd person was walking along the
pier. The time was ideal to recover the recorder from the building. The one
secreted on the boat would be picked up later at Port Melbourne. The
conversation on the way home was more buoyant, especially after Ed had played
back the recording. Even though they couldn't understand the language the quality
was better than expected.
After arrangements were made for him to collect the tapes Will made his way
home. His mind could not come to terms with the fact that everything had gone
without a hitch, so much so, that he began to feel suspicious. He would only accept
that things were okay when he finally played back the tapes for Bart.
On the following Wednesday Ed was waiting at the bus stop with the tapes.
"How are you going to avoid copies being made?"
"I'll put the tape on and take it off, and I won't leave the room. I can assure
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you there will be no problems, you can have them back in about a week."
On his way to the factory next morning Will decided to take the bull by the
horns and waste no time in contacting Bart. He felt certain that one of the two
Serbs had put the information in his lunch box. They were both in the lamination
department when he arrived. Glancing at each other and pretending to be fully
occupied was a ploy to try and keep their distance. "I think you know Bart, would
you tell him I want to see him." Both men carried on working without comment
and Will left the room.
Frantically collecting his things together at the end of the day in an effort not
to miss the bus, Will hesitated when the phone rang. His conscience however,
overcame the desire to ignore it and Bart's voice came over load and clear. "You
wanted to see me Will?"
"Yes, I have something for you."
"That sounds good. Can you come to Kooyong tomorrow night at 7 p.m.?"
“Yes. Do you have a tape recorder?"
"Yes, will it be okay if I invite four or five others?"
"I don't mind, see you tomorrow."
Will raced out into Nicholson Street and just caught the bus by the skin of his
teeth. He was beginning to feel better, now that he was closer to discharging his
obligation.
At precisely 7 o'clock Will knocked on Bart's front door and within seconds
he was ushered into a small ante-room. On a table next to the window sat the reelto-reel
tape recorder plugged in and ready to go. Five other men were seated on
straight back dining chairs around the perimeter of the room and Will felt their eyes
piercing his very soul.
Four of them he remembered immediately as the men huddled in the corner
that night when he was invited by Ivan for a get together at Bart's house. No one
spoke, they just stared, and Will felt a bit scared, even though he was aware that
there was no need for concern.
Bart opened up the conversation. "What do you have for us?"
"I have two tapes. One taken as they gathered waiting for the boat, and the
second with the meeting on it. I must have your assurance that no copies will be
made, and when you've finished listening I take possession again and get them
back to my source."
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Bart nodded his head and Will proceeded to load the tapes. As soon as the
tape started playing all the men crowded around the recorder, obliterating it from
view. Will sat listening but failed to understand one word as it was in Yugoslav.
The first tape ended without any reaction and they all turned to Will for him to start
the second one and as before, the rugby scrum formed around the recorder again.
The minutes ticked by and Will began to get the impression that the whole
thing had been a resounding failure. He would suffer the ultimate embarrassment
if the information on the tapes proved to be of no value and he was beginning to
prepare himself for the worst.
A flapping noise sounded as the loose end of the tape careered around the
spinning spool, indicating that it had finished and a hushed silence followed - then
a spontaneous cheering and clapping. They all ran over to Will slapping him on the
back, tugging at his arms and shaking his hands, it was like being mugged and
congratulated at the same time!
When the cheering stopped, glasses and wine appeared as if from nowhere
and drinks were poured and passed around. Will picked up the tapes eager to get
away. He turned to say goodbye and instead of the criticising glances he received
on entry, the response was one full of appreciation, and smiles all round.
Bart walked over to the car to see him off. "We know now who killed the boy,
and when we retaliate they will know that someone has had surveillance on them.
Tell your source to be careful, because they'll be trying to find out who it is.
Whenever we can, we'll pass information to you. Thanks for what you've done."
"You were good to me when I was in trouble at the factory, but I was also
thinking about the boy."
Will drove away but his mind was in such a turmoil he had to pull over just a
short distance away and stop on the side of the road. He tried to come to terms
with what was happening. The Serbs back there at Bart's house were no different
than the Croats, both parties intent upon killing one another. There was no big
political cause or agenda, not here in Australia anyway, just a deadly feud.
He began to feel sickened and ashamed at being party to this madness. The
feeling didn't go away and time was wasting. Dorothy was on her own, he had
better get back, but the recent events would still be churning over in his mind for
some time to come.
Returning the tapes to Ed's office Will was hoping that he was out. It would
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just have been a matter of leaving the parcel with the old man but it was not to be
the case. Sitting behind his desk grinning like a Cheshire cat, Ed stood up and
reached out to take the parcel containing the tapes. "How did it go?"
"Everything went well, they will send more information as it becomes
available."
"That's wonderful, but for the moment we've got plenty to go at. The
information we collected was valuable and it's being evaluated." Ed sat down
again and looked up at Will. "All this information you get for us is worth a fair bit
of money, you should be compensated."
"I think you should rephrase what you've just said. The truth is, all the
information I am coerced into getting for you, which is quite a different thing. No,
I don't want your money, it would only end up implicating me."
"They could transfer money into your account if they wanted to, which would
implicate you anyway."
"Would you do that Ed?"
"No."
"Well, you'd better tell your superiors not to either, because if they do they will
get zero assistance from me, whatever the consequences."
"Why are we talking like this Will? Everything went well, with no trouble.
Let's look forward to getting the same results from the next two meetings."
"What do you mean "we"? You've got everything you want, my expertise is
not needed now and you know it. If you try to make me follow through, I'll know
that you're doing so, just for the hell of it."
"No, I wouldn't do that Will and you're right, we can carry on, but if we run
into trouble with the equipment you'll still sort it out for us?"
"Yes, I won't go back on our arrangement but remember, it's only between
you and me, no one else."
Ed nodded in agreement. "I've known you long enough to sense when
something's bugging you, am I right?"
"Yes, I've been asked to warn you to be careful, the Serbs are going to
retaliate. They got the information they wanted from the tapes and they know who
to go for, and when they get him the Croats will leave no stone unturned to try to
find out how the information got out."
"How can they possibly find out?"
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"It's simple logic. The chances of someone in their own families leaking
information is practically non existent, consequently, they'll be searching for
someone outside their own group." Will paused to take a deep breath, "that's you
Ed, or one of your agents." Ed looked long and hard at him but Will was not
getting any response. "You've never met or talked to these people, have you?"
"No."
"You can't treat them like other groups you've been spying on."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, in addition to changing their operation they will come after you and kill
you." Ed was now listening intently, and Will continued, "from what I've learned
I can save you a lot of work and trouble. Both sides are just bent on destroying
one another, there's no political agenda, it's merely a vendetta. The very minute
that you find out what I've said is true, stop what you're doing, and leave it alone.
Believe me, from now on, things could get really bad and you'll have very little
control over what's happening. The revenge for the killing of that boy could come
as early as tomorrow, so my advice to you is to keep on the alert. Things could
happen when you least expect it."
"You're serious aren't you?"
"I think the correct term would be "deadly serious" Will moved over to the
door in readiness to leave. "I'm sorry to put a damper on the success of this first
surveillance, but I didn't want you to proceed with the next two jobs, thinking that
they were going to be a piece of cake, like the first. Keep expecting trouble and
you might avert it. This is the last time I will visit you in this office, I can't afford to
take any risks." Will closed the door behind him a picture of Ed's blank look
imprinted in his mind.
The daily battles at his place of work continued unabated. There was nothing
much he could do but respond, as and when required, in an effort to keep the cogs
turning with the least amount of friction. He badly wanted to get away from this
soul destroying environment and after many requests had been rejected, a unique
opportunity arose. His boss announced that he was leaving the company and Will
made one last attempt, knowing that a new superior would not impliment any
changes in the forseeable future. It was finally decided that he be moved back to
the main plant and get involved in television production. As on previous occasions
it happened soon and without warning.
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From that moment on, Will set about his work with a renewed vigour, knowing
that each day would be one day closer to leaving this place that he disliked so
much. As it had happened on previous occasions, he transferred back to the main
plant in one day, with no pre-warning, and the difference could be likened to
swimming from the rapids into the calm waters of a swimming-pool!
The stressful nature of his previous job was very hard to eliminate and he was
constantly expecting something untoward to happen, but it didn't, and eventually,
over the next couple of months, he settled down to a more stable existence.
The influences of Ed seemed now to be in the distant past, but Will was aware
that the other two surveillance dates would be either completed or imminent. Apart
from the occasional reminder of the past, Will was enjoying his day to day
predictability. He had received no further information from Bart, which he could
only conclude would be due to the fact that he was awaiting results from the other
two meetings. It would be too much to expect that there would be no more
contact from these parties - just wishful thinking.
Searching through his papers Will found his copy of the information given to
him by Bart and the final meeting was due next Sunday. They must have coped
with the second meeting and Ed wouldn't contact him at this late stage, unless they
had an emergency of some kind.
Will waited a further couple of weeks expecting Ed to appear with the tapes,
but it was to be a further week before the familiar sight of Ed's car parked outside
the shops in Vermont caught his eye as he alighted from the bus. As he
approached the door opened and Tony got out. Will looked past him and into the
car, but Ed was not there.
"Where's Ed, is he sick again?"
Tony pointed to the front seat, indicating that Will should get inside. Tony
turned to Will as they settled into their seats. "No, he's not sick."
"Has he sent me some tapes then, and how did the surveillance go?"
"No, I haven't brought any tapes but the surveillance went well."
This question and answer session is getting me nowhere, Will was thinking, as
Tony seemed to be getting more and more non-committal. He was staring through
the windshield appearing detached from the circumstances around him. "What the
hell's going on Tony, why are you so damned reticent?"
Tony placed his hand on the steering-wheel in the driving position and lowered
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his head down between his arms. Will could see that he was upset. "What's the
matter, has something happened to Ed?" Tony nodded but no words came, and
as he raised his head Will could see tears in his eyes.
"He's had an accident."
"What sort of accident?"
"He was run over by a motor car."
"Where is he, is he injured?"
Tony seemed to take ages to answer, his head resting between his arms again.
He shook his head from side to side. "He's dead."
Will was dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing but no words were
coming out. A barrage of questions were entering his brain. He had the sudden
urge to grab Tony and violently shake the answers out of him, but the numbness
he felt prevented him. They sat in silence for some minutes as Will waited for Tony
to regain his composure.
"The police say that it was a hit and run accident."
"Do you believe that?"
"It certainly looks that way."
Will's stomach was turning over, he knew this was no accident. "Are you sure
that this recent surveillance went without incident?"
"Not quite, but it wasn't significant."
"What do you mean, not significant?"
"When we got back Ed said he'd forgotten to do something before he left the
pier, so he went back."
"Did anyone see him afterwards, or go with him?"
"No."
"Where was he found?"
"Lying next to his car in the street. The police think that he'd just got out when
he was hit. The car door was still partly open."
"Were there any witnesses?"
"No, the police are looking for the car. Why are you asking me all these
questions?"
"Because when they find the car it will turn out to be stolen."
Tony's eyes opened wide, it was obvious that no one had applied any
reasoning to Ed's death. "Are you trying to tell me something?"
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"Didn't Ed tell you that I had warned him to be careful?"
"No, he didn't."
"The bloody fool, and you're a bloody fool too!"
Tony was now sitting bolt upright in his seat, his body noticeably stiff. "Don't
you understand that this is the way they do it. They caught him, killed him by
running over him, and then dumped him next to his car to make it look like an
accident."
The gruesome nature of Will's last statement was just too much for Tony, and
he slumped over the steering-wheel again. Will waited awhile before continuing
with the conversation. "These people are way out of your league, there's an
element of thugs and killers amongst them. You're just information gatherers, you'll
never be able to cope with the likes of them. Would you be able to kill anyone
Tony?"
"No way!"
"You should know then that you can't compete."
"Where do we go from here?"
"Go straight to Ed's office right now and collect all his things. Leave the office
bare. Tell the old man that if anyone asks any questions he's to tell them that the
police removed the contents. Then don't ever go back there again."
"Will you tell the others what you've told me tonight?"
Will thought long and hard before answering. It would be an ideal opportunity
to look them all over and a chance to perhaps find out more about the organization
here in Australia from Tony, now that he was vulnerable.
"Pick them all up and bring them to Heathmont Station car-park tomorrow
night at 7 p.m. It's only a couple of miles down the road from here."
"Yes, I know where it is."
Will watched until the car turned down Mitcham Road towards Donvale and
then walked slowly down the hill to his house. The shock of Ed's death had taken
every ounce of energy away from him and his gait was unsteady. He would have
to recover before he walked into the house.
What had possessed Ed to go back to the pier that day? The recorder would
have been collected earlier. Perhaps he intended to be there when the boat
returned after the meeting? I wonder if he waited to take photographs for
identification purposes? Whatever he was up to it was a fatal mistake to be without
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assistance. He was committing suicide.
Will tried to put things out of his mind until the next evening but it was
impossible. Pulling into the car-park outside the suburban railway station at
Heathmont, he spotted a large van parked away from the other cars. It looked
similar to the vans used by the police for taking teams to crime scenes.
Will knocked on the passenger door and Tony's face appeared at the window.
He looked relieved. Apart from the stress of recent happenings he had probably
entertained the possibility that Will may not turn up.
Will clambered between the driver and passenger seat to gain access to the
rear of the vehicle. It was dimly lit by a small domed lamp attached to the
underside of the roof and six men, including Tony, were seated on either side,
leaving a space down the centre. Remaining in the standing position Will looked
at each man in turn, as they remained silent waiting for him to speak. Apart from
one man they were all young, even younger than Tony. The older man broke the
silence.
"What's all this business about Ed. You're not part of the team, so why should
we believe what you're telling us."
Will took a step forward to get closer to the man. "Ed's death was not hit and
run I can assure you. You're the oldest here, with probably the most experience,
so I hold you partly responsible for what happened. You buggered off to the
comfort of your home and let him go without any assistance, didn't you?" Everyone
recoiled into the back of their seats. "You're right, I'm not part of your team and
I wouldn't want to be, now that I know more about you."
The close confines of the van only emphasized the silence that followed and
no one appeared to want to speak. "Because of your inexperience every one of
you pose a danger to me, and also to yourselves. I don't want to end up like Ed,
do you? I'll make two comments and then I'm off and I don't want to see any of
you again. Go home and don't do anything for a couple of months. No contact,
not even with one another, understand?" He turned to Tony. "Don't visit the
restaurant in Spring Street again, or anywhere that Ed has frequented for that
matter."
"But my girl friend works there."
"It's up to you how much value you put on your continued good health. The
people you are spying on are not part of any national organization, there's no big
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plan. They just react when something happens and Ed got caught. The way he was
killed is typical of what they do, the police will never find out anything. The second
thing is this. You'll get no more information from me. Stop spying on them and
you'll stay alive. Has anybody got anything to say?" Everyone looked at Will, but
no questions were forthcoming.
Driving back parallel with the railway lines he turned east over the crossing
towards Vermont but stopped briefly and looked back across the car-park at the
van. It was still stationary and no one had got out. Hopefully, they were all taking
into consideration the advice he had given, but he had no control over that
accepting that it was important for him to keep out of trouble himself, and the way
to do that would be to keep away from the likes of the organization. He could see
Bart and wind things up with him. He'd got what he wanted anyway.
After a troubled night's sleep Will sat having coffee looking out of the picture
window and across the valley. It was Saturday, his mind was still mulling over the
recent traumatic events and he was coming to the conclusion that there were quite
a few facets emanating from Ed's demise.
The most disturbing of these was the possibility that he could have been
implicated in the spying on the Croats and the possible repercussions. The thought
frightened him. As things presented themselves at the moment, he would not be
able to shake the feeling of insecurity for some weeks to come, and perhaps not
then, if things happened in the meantime.
A movement out on the road diverted his attention. It was the telegram boy
from the Post Office riding his red bicycle around the bend. Stopping in front of
the house he rested his bike against the pole that supported the letterbox and
proceeded to walk up the driveway with a telegram in his hand. Will felt the
tensions rising in the anticipation of bad news, and he took a deep breath to offset
the feeling. Will met him at the front door.
"Telegram for you Sir."
Will broke the seal and opened it up. It was from the family in England. "Dear
Will we are sorry to have to tell you that your brother Paul has died." Will was
rooted to the spot. His brother was only 35 years old. He was 13,000 miles away
and there was nothing he could do. His system was going into shock.
"Is there a reply Sir?"
The telegram boy was waiting and Will heard himself answering, his voice
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sounding as though it was coming from the emptiness of a hollow log. "I'm sorry,
no there isn't."
He watched until his bright red uniform disappeared from sight. "Who was
that Will?"
It was Dorothy entering the hallway. Will felt the turmoil rising inside and it was
reaching bursting point. He just had to get away from that spot. Passing her the
telegram, he ran out to his workshop and collapsed into a chair next to the bench,
just as his system broke down and his brain stopped functioning.
He felt Dorothy's arms around him and it was good not to be alone, but he
was thinking only one thought. That God did not exist.
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Chapter 11
The Female Connection
As each day passed he began to accept the reality regarding Ed and his
brother Paul. The two occurrences however, could not be aligned with regard to
his future. Time would eventually reconcile his brother's death but Ed had left him
with a perpetuating legacy, and he could expect it to surface at any time.
A little over two weeks had elapsed since his meeting in the car park at
Heathmont Railway Station, and his instincts were telling him that something would
surely happen soon. On that very day, his predictions came true.
Jumping off the train at Mitcham Station he hurried to catch the bus for the final
short journey home. There was the usual crowd pushing their way past the ticket
collector eager to get home. "Will, Will!"
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He could hear the familiar voice of Tony over the noise of the crowd. Turning
he was relieved to see that he was alone. "Could we have a quick chat Will?"
Will pointed to the waiting bus. "I'll miss my bus."
"I can drive you down afterwards, you won't be late home."
The two men walked out of the station towards a small group of shops situated
on the service road and Will stopped in front of the hardware shop which was now
closed. The activity in the shopping area had subsided, leaving the vicinity
somewhat deserted. Tony had not spoken a word during their short walk.
"What do you want to see me about? You're breaking the rules. To be safe
there was to be no contact."
Tony's face took on a pained look. He obviously regarded Will's statement as
a reprimand and he was the type that avoided confrontation. Will realised that he
could not adopt the same attitude with Tony as he had done with Ed. He had
nothing against this man, he had not directly caused him any trouble. "I don't want
to appear antagonistic, but since the episode with Ed it's best to be over cautious.”
"I agree, but I've had no other choice but to contact you."
"Why, has something gone wrong with the equipment?"
"No."
"If that's the case there's nothing much I can help you with is there?"
"All the scheduling of work has come to a grinding halt. The agent in charge
of international operations is supposed to put in an appearance but he hasn't shown
up."
Will could feel himself getting sucked into the web again, but the thought of
getting more information about these people that he may be able to use to extradite
himself from their grip, was an incentive not to back off, nevertheless, it would be
fatal to appear too cooperative.
"All that you're telling me is no concern of mine Tony, I told Ed this a dozen
times before." Will watched his face intently and it took on a desperate look - his
voice a tone of urgency.
"A couple of the men are causing trouble and it's affecting the others. They
think they know what's best. Things are falling apart, and I'm at my wit's end
waiting for the overseas man to arrive."
Will allowed the conversation to subside to give the impression that he was
thinking, but he already knew what he had to say. "It's impossible for me to help
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you, I would have to know more about what you are doing, otherwise, whatever
I suggest could foul things up even more." He waited for Tony to take the bait,
knowing he had nowhere else to turn.
"Since Ed was killed I was given the job to keep things going until
arrangements could be made."
"Do you want to take over from Ed?"
"No, I just want to get through this interim period." He paused and then carried
on. "If I tell you what you want to know will you help me?"
"Do you understand that if the organization found out, or even one of the other
agents, you would leave yourself wide open to all sorts of problems?"
Tony hesitated before answering. "I know from the past that I can trust you
Will, just say that you'll help me."
"I won't promise, but I'll try."
Tony grabbed Will's hand and shook it violently. "Thanks Will."
During the short drive to Vermont arrangements were made to meet. It was
a very different Tony now, in comparison with the man he had been talking to only
a few minutes before. His mood had now changed to one of confidence, and he
talked continuously until Will got out of the car at the top of his road. Misgivings
enveloped him immediately and he tried to push them aside. It was too late now
anyway.
Tony was at the meeting place as arranged. Will had chosen the place to
eliminate the possibility of them being seen together. His comings and goings at the
Institute of Sound Recording Engineers would not be suspect, and at the allocated
time he knew that there would be a small room available for them, which was
normally used for various audio testing procedures. It was completely soundproof,
with an acoustic chamber at one end resembling something from outer space, and
sundry small tables and trollies at the other for supporting equipment.
Tony sat down and looked around him. "You certainly pick some odd places."
Will smiled, the room had been treated for sound, and his voice sounded flat and
unreal.
"Before we start, have you had any problems with the Croats since Ed died?"
"No."
"Have you stopped spying on them?"
"Yes."
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"They have no organization. If they haven't coupled anybody with Ed by now,
they've probably given up."
"Do you think so?"
"It's a fair assumption, as long as you and your associates don't do anything
stupid to set things off again."
Tony settled down to talk about the organization in Australia. At each step of
the way Will tried to assess the value of the information which seemed to flow
freely. At the end however, he had not heard anything that he had not previously
assumed, it had now though been presented as facts, which was important. He
would have to wait for an opportunity to arise in the future when the information
could be used to his advantage, but at this point in time, he was no better off. "Well
that's it Will, how can you help me?"
"It's quite simple. Your main problem is the trouble you're getting from a
couple of agents, a mini revolt. Am I right?"
"Yes, if I could sort that out all the other problems would fall by the wayside."
"One of them is the older man?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"It was the reaction I got from him that night in Heathmont, the other person
will be someone that hangs around with him."
"You're right on the ball, it's one of the youngest."
"So, all you have to do is fix him and the youngster will automatically fall into
line."
"I guess so."
"Well, do everything in your power to do just that. You have his file, so you're
in the best position to know what to do."
Tony sat for awhile pondering Will's last remark. He then stood up and
proceeded to walk backwards and forwards as if trying to make up his mind.
"You mean threaten him with blackmail?"
"Whatever it takes. He's making your life a misery, turn things around and
make his life uncomfortable for a change, he'll soon change his tune when he sees
what can happen to his own life. I can assure you of that!"
"I couldn't do it. How could I cope if it went wrong?"
Tony was probably brilliant when it came to organizing and planning, but when
the human element came into the equation he was hopeless. Ed would have dealt
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with that. It was amazing how much in common Tony had with Gerald in Hawaii,
the mere thought of confrontation frightened them.
They both sat engrossed in their own thoughts, the sound proofing of the room
emphasising the silence. Will knew that he could clear up Tony's problem quickly.
The fact that he now knew more about the organization however was not enough,
he needed more from him to help safeguard his future. Some of the things that Ed
had told him were circulating in his mind and he remembered his actual words "I've
got plenty of contacts on the outside that I can use, but I have to get what I want
from them without their knowing what I do. If they found out I wouldn't be able
to carry on." Tony broke the silence.
"Would you do it for me Will?"
"That's impossible. Once I use information that everyone knows could only
have come from you, you'd be in real trouble."
"Yes, that's pretty stupid of me isn't it? But I'm desperate to get this problem
solved and I don't mind admitting it. Is there no other way it can be done?"
"Yes there is, but the information you've given me so far doesn't warrant the
risk. I'll need more from you."
Tony's smile turned into a chuckle. "Ed told me about your bargaining, I'm
beginning to see how you two worked together. What do you want?"
"You're the one person that knows everything that's going on. If I ever get into
trouble with the organization I want your promise that I can come to you and you'll
give me the information I want. I can give you an assurance that I won't
compromise you."
Tony didn't hesitate. "I can promise you that, is there anything else?"
"I want the list of Ed's contacts."
Tony was visibly shocked, struggling for an appropriate answer. "How did
you know there was a list?"
"You will have gone through his things and extracted it. To the others it would
be of no value, but in your possession it would be a powerful tool. I'm not
interested in how you intend to use it, I just want a copy of the list in it's entirety."
"What do you want it for?"
"Let's call it an insurance policy that I can use if I find my back against the wall.
Always remember Tony, the people you're working with are just as dangerous as
those you are working against."
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Tony looked uneasy. "Is that everything?"
"Yes. If you agree, I'll have the name and address of your problem, and how
I can contact you in the future."
It was crunch time for Tony and he was labouring with the decision. "I'll need
some time to think about it."
"Take all the time you want, but I won't deal with your problem until I have the
list in my hand."
Tony stood up and prepared to leave. Walking over to the door he hesitated,
his hand poised over the door knob, then swiftly turning on his heel he came back
to the table where Will was sitting. Quickly scribbling on a notepad he tore the
page off and gave it to Will. "That's the name and address you wanted and a
phone number where you can contact me. The phone will only be answered by me
so you can't leave a message. I'll meet you off the bus with the list tomorrow
evening."
Will waited for awhile before leaving. As a result of the meeting he had plenty
to occupy his mind, and intermingled with everything else was the vivid memory
of the look on Ed's face the last time he saw him when he was leaving his office
that night.
Tony was waiting at the bus stop, his reliability was at least something he had
in common with Ed. They walked over to the car and he produced the list. Will
briefly scanned it's contents, some twenty or thirty names, addresses, and phone
numbers. Alongside each entry Ed had inserted a short summary indicating the
individual's potential. It could have a devastating result if used in the right way.
Tony's voice interrupted his train of thought. "I feel very uneasy about letting
this information go."
"How many people know about it?"
"Just you, me and Ed, as far as I know. I don't think Ed would have confided
in anyone."
"I would agree, so there's nothing for you to worry about. If the time ever
came I wouldn't use the whole list anyway, only the information that served the
purpose, no one could connect back to you. In the worst case, it could be
assumed that Ed gave me the list before he was killed."
"That's a logical conclusion I suppose, now what about our own business?"
"I'll do it right away within the next few days, but I won't phone you for about
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two weeks."
"Why not straightway?"
"Because you'll be able to tell me by then whether the desired result has been
achieved." Tony nodded, it was up to Will now and he would not have to
procrastinate.
After the evening meal at home, Will reacquainted himself with the note given
to him by Tony. The address of the agent was in Warrandyte, an outer suburb of
Melbourne, in a very picturesque setting, with houses nestled amongst the
eucalyptus trees on both sides of the river.
It was a wellknown area inhabited by artists, and the unorthodox structures of
their homes could be easily seen perched on the side of the hills to gain advantage
of the natural view. Under the address was written a short note "he lives alone"
a distinct advantage under the circumstances.
Will sat opposite Dorothy in the lounge-room, she was reading. He had
decided to go to Warrandyte the next evening and the usual anxieties were setting
in. "I have to slip out tomorrow evening, but only for an hour."
Dorothy looked up from her book. "It's local then, is it?"
"Yes, to see someone in Warrandyte."
"It won't turn into one of those technical sessions that could keep you up till the
early hours of the morning?"
"No, there's nothing planned like that."
She lowered her eyes and carried on reading. Very soon now she would be
leaving work in preparation for having the baby. The mere thought of it was
splitting his mental state straight down the middle. On the one hand, the excitement
and happiness, on the other the paranoia of keeping out of trouble for the fear of
it affecting the family.
Instinctively, he got up from his chair and walked down the passage to the
master bedroom. Reaching for a shoe box on the top shelf of the wardrobe he
placed it on the bedside table and removed the lid. Inside was an American Army
issue service pistol and his conscience immediately began to pound away at him.
Dorothy hated it being in the house and he knew that he had to get rid of it before
the baby came.
The noise of crockery coming from the kitchen brought him back to reality. He
put the pistol back in the box and returned it to the wardrobe. There was no
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question in his mind he would have to take it to be on the safe side.
Will looked at his watch as he drove over the bridge in Warrandyte, it was
7.30 p.m. and already dark. There were few shops in the main street, with only
one, a milkbar and convenience store, remaining open. Parking his car where it
was illuminated by the lights from the window he walked along the path that
followed the river until he arrived at the place where he would have to turn off.
Looking up the side of the hill he could see the scattered lights from the houses
peeping through the trees. The hills alongside the river were honeycombed with
dirt roads, either terminating or intersecting with others, eventually finding their way
back to the riverside.
He was glad that he had left the car down below as the road he was
negotiating was nothing more than a well used track, only wide enough for one
vehicle. In the daylight it would have been a picturesque setting, but at night it was
dismal, and apart from the sound of his own footsteps, all he could hear was the
wind rattling it's way through the dry leaves of the gum trees.
The road continued to twist and turn on it's way up the hill, until it crossed the
front of a large flat roofed house and then disappeared around the back. The sign
on a post next to the road read "The Gables" Now there was an irony, Will
thought, looking once again at the flat roof of the house, this can't be the place. It
matches the location that Tony had given him, but not the name. There were lights
coming from the windows indicating that there would be someone home. Will
climbed the steps to the front verandah and knocked on the door.
A couple of minutes elapsed but no one came. The effect of knocking louder
on the second attempt pushed the door partially open, and projecting his voice
through the opening he called out to gain attention. Pushing the door wide open
Will took a few steps inside to a sight that defied belief.
He was standing in a room some 12 feet wide by 50 feet or more long, a bare
room without furniture. Full sized paintings of nude women adorned the walls on
both sides and for the whole length of the room, each lit independently. On the
very end wall facing him, was the life sized portrait of a man, fully dressed in a
business suit, sitting in a large carved high back wooden chair, holding a pint of
beer in his right hand.
Expecting that at any moment he would be interrupted by a challenge, Will
stood trying to reconcile what he was seeing, and things just didn't fit in with what
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he was expecting. Backing out of the room, stared upon by many pairs of eyes,
he retraced his steps back to the road, following it around the rear of the house to
look for signs of life. He discovered however, that the road continued up the side
of the hill to a small house about three or four hundred yards farther on. He
increased his step, convinced that he had now found the place he was looking for.
It was no more than a cabin perched on a rocky outcrop. Will could see the
back of a car that had been parked behind the far end of the building and lights
were showing from a couple of windows. He paused for a moment to catch his
breath and reaching inside his pocket he rearranged the pistol which had been
dislodged during the climb. It was heavy and it's shifting weight on the way up the
hill had constantly reminded him to be careful. He felt a reluctance to go further,
but it was no time to be getting second thoughts.
A gust of wind sprang up, the noise making him jump, and for a moment he felt
scared, but it had the effect of getting him on the move again towards the house.
The path to the front porch rose sharply, and raising his hand to knock on the door
he could hear the faint sound of music coming from inside. He purposely knocked
hard several times, to leave in no doubt to anyone inside that there was someone
at the door. But no one came.
It was impossible not to have been heard. Will looked around feeling very
uneasy, but before he had time to make up his mind what to do next, a sharp
rustling sound came from the far corner of the building, in the vicinity of the car.
For a fleeting moment he was frightened to look, and he instinctively gripped the
butt of the pistol inside his pocket. "Who's there, is that you Dan?"
A voice he recognized answered. "Who wants to know?"
"It's Will Brenner, I've come up to have a word with you." Will waited, but
there was no response. He must have a gun, it was part of his trade to be armed.
What a damned fool I've been - I should have waited until I had seen him moving
about in the house! He was standing in the full light of the porch and feeling very
vulnerable.
Dan's figure moved out of the shadows into the light. He had obviously put his
gun away and Will breathed a sigh of relief. Dan looked past Will to the road
below. "Are you alone?"
"Yes, I wasn't sure of the way so I parked my car next to the store and
walked up."
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"How did you know where I lived?"
"I talked to a couple of the others, they told me how to find you."
He seemed on edge and not convinced. "I want to talk to you about the
circumstances surrounding Ed's death, but not out here. Is it okay for us to go
inside?" A few more seconds of hesitation elapsed and then he pushed open the
door and pointed for Will to go in.
The room was open plan. Lounge, dining, and kitchen areas defined by a
placement of furniture, which was barely enough to suffice. Two doors at the far
right end probably led to a bedroom and washroom. "I called at the house farther
down the hill, but there was no one home."
"That would be Mr.Gable's house, he's an artist." That solves the sign outside
which didn't make sense, Will was thinking. Choosing a lounge chair close to the
door, Will sat down.
"Why do you want to talk to me about Ed? It's all over and done with now."
"It isn't actually."
Dan looked puzzled. "Who are these others you've been talking to?"
"You don't expect me to divulge that, do you? I wouldn't talk to anyone else
about you. What's said here tonight will be just between you and me."
"You've got no right to be contacting any of the others."
"I'm not a member of your group, consequently, I'm not bound up by your
rules. That gives me the right to talk to anyone I want."
"I fail to see what there is for us to discuss."
"I didn't think you would, but when my own wellbeing is in jeopardy, I have
to do something about it."
Dan didn't answer, he was probably wondering what was coming next and
that's how Will wanted it to be. "You've been mouthing off to the others and
making up your own rules. That poses a danger to me and I intend to do
something about it."
Dan sprang to his feet. "Who the hell do you think you are, you have no
authority to do anything!"
"But I do, and you'll have to understand that. I have no one to answer to and
I can act on my own to get the result I want."
Dan walked over to the dining area, and sat down on one of the upright chairs,
he turned his head, an antagonistic look on his face. "I don't intend to do anything,
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no matter what you say. I think it would be wise for you to leave."
Will stood up and moved closer to the door. "Before I go let me tell you that
I don't look forward to a life of looking over my shoulder, just because of your
stupidity. There are three ways we can resolve this matter. You and I can come
to an arrangement tonight or I'll see to it that your international operations boss
gets to know what you're doing, and I don't think he'll be too happy, do you?" He
now had Dan's full attention.
"What's the third thing?"
"I can pass your name etc. to my Serbian contacts and they will see to it that
it's leaked to the Croats. What happened to Ed can happen to you. To be blunt
about it, I would rather it be you, than me."
Will watched Dan's face as the full impact of what was being proposed began
to have it's effect. Will reached for the door knob. "Wait!" There was now a
nervous intonation to his voice and Will knew that it was time to reinforce what he
had just outlined.
"I know you didn't believe me about the way Ed died, so I'll tell you what
happened. They saw him at the pier and followed him in a stolen car, grabbed him,
and probably took him to a deserted warehouse. Then, when they couldn't get any
more information out of him they strapped him down on the floor and ran a car
over him, finally dumping him on the road to make it look like a hit and run
accident. The police will never find out, and even if they did, what consolation
would that be for Ed?"
Will knew that he had achieved what he wanted. Dan was looking more
agitated by the minute and it was now only a matter of bringing things to their
natural conclusion. He listened to Dan's voice now husky and subdued, trying to
come to terms with facts that were bearing down on him.
"Are you sure that's what happened to Ed?"
"Yes I'm certain, but I don't need to prove it to you. It's your choice. Only a
short time ago when I arrived you had a gun trained on me, didn't you?"
"Yes."
Will pulled the American service pistol from his pocket and pointed to it. "This
is the world you have chosen to live in and my advice to you is keep your mouth
shut, do only what's asked of you, and spend the rest of the time covering your
back. Don't make the mistake of thinking that the organization is your friend, it can
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become your enemy at the drop of a hat. Remember one important thing, I had no
need to come here tonight, it was a risk for me. All I had to do was implement
whatever I thought appropriate to stop you from endangering myself and my
family."
Dan moved over to the kitchen area his head nodding in agreement. "What
happens now?"
"It all depends on you. If you accept the essence of what's being said and stop
inciting the others to do what you think is best, then nothing will happen.
Remember, one of them has already ratted on you, and it could happen again, but
if it happens for a second time I won't come and visit you, someone else will."
Dan walked over and slumped into one of the lounge chairs but Will remained
standing near the front door. "What you're telling me makes sense."
"It's called self preservation!"
"Yes, that's right."
"Do we have an agreement then?"
"Yes."
Will let himself out as Dan stared straight ahead, attempting to absorb what
had happened. As Will walked back down the hill he could still feel his intense grip
on the butt of the pistol. Releasing it, he removed his hand from his pocket flexing
it to get rid of the stiffness.
Passing "The Gables" he looked up at the house, picturing the conglomeration
of nudes in the gallery. He smiled to himself and continued down towards the river.
Crossing over the road he walked to a grassy bank that looked over the swirling
water.
Removing the gun from his pocket he ejected the magazine and removed the
bullets. Snapping it back into position he took one last look at the weapon before
throwing it as far as he could into the centre of the river, watching the splash as it
submerged. There would be no doubt that it would make Dorothy happy knowing
that it was no longer in the house.
Will looked at his watch as he passed back over the river bridge, it was 8.15
p.m. the whole affair had taken only forty-five minutes. It had gone better than he
could ever have imagined, with minimal confrontation. In fifteen minutes he would
be home and glad that it was all over.
Allowing two weeks to elapse before phoning Tony he was surprised to get
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him at the first attempt. "Have things settled down?"
"Yes, absolutely marvellous," was the reply. "I won't ask how you did it, but
I do want to see you. Can we have a brief chat one evening when you get off the
bus in Vermont?"
"Whenever you want." Will put the phone down ending the conversation, there
was no point in asking questions, contact would be made anyway.
The very next day he was there. Things must be urgent was the thought
foremost in Will's mind, and he felt uneasy about it. They walked along the service
road for a short distance before engaging in conversation. "There's been an
interstate meeting and a couple of people want to meet you."
Will's heart sank. When would he ever get rid of these people? "I'm not very
interested in what they want and I have no desire to meet anybody."
"I told them you wouldn't agree, but they insisted. One of them is from England
and he's going back at the end of next week."
"I couldn't care less. He can swim back as far as I'm concerned."
"I'm sorry Will, you've been good to me since Ed died and I'm grateful for that,
but they came down hard on me at the suggestion that you might not come."
For the umpteenth time Will was once again at their beck and call. If he didn't
go they would find another way, which would be out of his control. As usual, he
would have to fall into line.
"Can you tell me more about why they want to see me?"
"Not really, but I think they want to find out how they stand, now that Ed's
gone. I don't think there's much more to it than that."
"Will you be there?"
"Yes."
"Who else?"
"The Englishman and one other agent who may be taking over from Ed."
"If they get under my skin I might finish up embarrassing you."
"We'll have to take that risk. You'll go then?"
"Yes, but under duress."
Tony smiled. "It would be a change to see you at a disadvantage, it's usually
the other way round. Now tell me what you said to Dan, I'm curious?"
"I very rarely told Ed about anything I was involved in, but to put your mind
at rest I'll tell you how I convinced him to cooperate. I told him that if he didn't
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stop what he was doing I would pass his name on to my Serbian contacts and they
would leak it to the Croats, who in turn would be delighted to do to him what they
did to Ed."
"My God! How did he react?"
"He agreed with me that the essence of self preservation was to say very little,
and only do what was being asked."
"It certainly did the trick, everything has been going like clockwork since. Shall
we make a date and time for next week, say Wednesday at 7.30 p.m. outside the
General Store here in Vermont?"
"Where will we be going?"
"To an apartment in St. Kilda Road near the junction."
Will left to walk the short distance home wondering what else could possibly
happen to make his life more intolerable. Once home however, he was now getting
used to hiding what was going on in his mind, responding only to the normalities.
Dorothy was now noticeably growing in size and in two to three weeks would
be permanently at home. Their financial position still left very much to be desired,
nearly all of their capital had been taken to build the house, and even though they
had been saving on a regular basis there would not be enough to withstand a crisis,
should one arise.
The offers of money from the organization kept surfacing in his mind. Apart
from the immediate relief, he knew that all he had to do was join the group
permanently, and all his financial worries would be over. It was a powerful
temptation.
If he did join them he would have to tell Dorothy about the type of work he
would be involved in, not sporadically, as it was at the moment, but on a day-today
basis.
He could imagine the questions she would be asked. What does your husband
do Dorothy? He's in electronics. Who does he work for? He's with the
government. Oh, what branch of government? She would have to lie or be noncommittal
and the questions would always be around the corner.
No, he would carry on with the same policy, resisting wherever possible, and
putting his best effort into keeping out of trouble. If things got really critical
financially, he would ask Tony for some money as had already been suggested in
the form of compensation.
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Will felt no apprehension about the forthcoming meeting. Travelling home on
the arranged evening however, it was uppermost in his mind. He was convinced
that they had not confided in Tony and for that reason he would not be expecting
things to go smoothly.
The commuter traffic was heading east as they travelled west towards the city.
It was about a thirty minute drive and as they turned south on the tree lined St.
Kilda Road the cars had thinned out considerably, making the drive a more
pleasant experience. Pulling into one of the many large colonial residences, Tony
parked around the back, close to the rear entrance.
The house itself was much larger than the one in Hawksburn and would no
doubt have many more apartments. Approaching the wide stairway, Will looked
up to see four levels, each with it's own bannistered landing that surrounded the
stairwell. Tony looked back as he mounted the first flight. "We've got to go right
to the top, there's no elevator." One thing was certain - he was in better condition
than Ed had been.
Will looked around at the large oak doors as they walked along the red
patterned carpet on the fourth floor, wondering where Tony would stop and
knock, but he ignored them all, stopping instead at a small door in the corner,
which led to a short flight of narrow stairs and finally at the top to another door of
similar size. He knocked and then opening the door gestured for Will to go inside.
What confronted him was a tiny apartment with barely enough room to walk
around the bed. The services, a wash basin, small cooker, etc. were positioned in
nooks around the room to take advantage of every available space.
Half lying on the bed was a man, his head propped up by his left arm, the
elbow resting in the centre of a pillow. A woman was sitting on a dining chair next
to the bed and by the time Tony had entered and closed the door the room was
overcrowded.
Will pressed himself against the wall to squeeze past the man's long legs which
were hanging over the edge of the bed. He made no effort to move or even look
up. No one appeared to want to speak and Will spent the time observing this rude
individual.
His face looked as though an artist had just moulded it in clay, still leaving the
imprints of fingers around the cheeks and nose. His mouth had a twisted look
giving the impression that he was about to sneer. His body proportions divulged
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the fact that he had never done a physical days work in his life. Will felt a strong
repulsion for this man, a selfish arrogance that was being transmitted, matching his
unsavoury description.
The woman appeared to be in her thirties, dressed in a brown flecked, tailored
jacket and skirt, which was pleated on each side. Her shoes were solid looking,
flat heeled brown brogues, with serrated edged tongues that flapped over the
laces. The lack of make-up did not detract from an attractive face, and her dark
brown hair appeared to have been recently cut and shaped. Like the others in the
room, she seemed to be waiting for the man on the bed to initiate the conversation.
Tony started to look embarrassed as the silence continued. It was becoming
obvious that there would be no introductions. Without turning his head the man on
the bed spoke. "You're Will Brenner."
Will could not reconcile what was transpiring, an uncontrollable resentment
was building up inside. "Yes, I'm Will Brenner. Who are you?"
The man still didn't turn his head. "I have a brief for you to take up and I must
see that it is instituted before I leave for the U.K. this weekend."
Will was getting ready to burst. "I'll ask you once again, who are you?"
Tony stiffened and the woman shifted from side to side on her chair.
"It's of no importance who I am."
"That being the case whatever you say can't be of any importance." Will was
certain that he spotted a fleeting smile on the woman's face. Tony stepped
backwards in an effort to get away from the onset of confrontation, but in that
cramped room there was nowhere left to go.
"You worked with Ed Blake before he died."
"No, I didn't work with Ed. You know very well that you people have been
blackmailing me for years to do things that you're not capable of doing yourselves,
and let's talk plain. Ed didn't die, he was killed." Will was becoming aware that no
matter how much he attacked this man verbally it would not make any impression.
The man pointed to the woman. "This is the person that's taking over from Ed
Blake."
"What do you mean "this person" is she like you, nameless?" Will turned to the
woman and addressed her in a soft tone. "What is your name? What do I call
you?"
"My name is Margaret."
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"Do people call you Margaret or Maggie?"
"Margaret."
Reaching over Will shook her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Margaret. Just
call me Will."
The man on the bed showed no reaction whatsoever, but the look on Tony's
face was one of relief during that brief moment without tension.
"You're to assist her as you did with Ed Blake, but on a full time basis. There's
a lot of work to be done."
"I've just told you that I never worked with Ed. Everything I've been engaged
in was the result of a threat that was held over me, that's not assisting, that's being
forced. I don't like your attitude, I can't trust you so I won't do anything for you."
The man's head turned and then in one second returned to it's original position.
It was the first reaction Will had seen from him since arriving. "If you don't do as
I ask I'll have no other option but to make your file on Gourock available to the
authorities when I get back to the U.K."
Will turned his attention to Tony and then to Margaret. "Is he your superior?"
She nodded.
"Take a good look at him and remember that you could be here where I'm
standing. Anyone that resorts to blackmail to get what they want is the lowest form
of life." Will pointed at the man on the bed, "and that's a prime example!" The
mixture of fear and anger had surged up into his throat forcing him to stop speaking
until he had it partially under control again. "If it's your intention to blackmail me
I have to warn you that within the week I can finish your organization here in
Australia for years to come. You surely must know that I've been gathering hard
information of my own. I have no concerns about what might happen to me, but
the slightest thought that you might bring harm down on my family will provoke me
into launching the biggest vendetta against you, the like's of which you could not
even comprehend!"
Tony was beside himself, the smallest excuse would have seen him out of that
room like a shot. The man on the bed was now looking directly at Will, and Will's
first look at his full face only made him feel more contemptuous. "Let's get one
thing straight. I didn't say I wouldn't do anything, I could probably help Margaret
and I've already helped Tony, it's just you I won't do anything for. You're a
blackmailer and it would be against my principals."
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Tensions rose another notch, the man was now sitting up. The two men were
staring at each other and it looked as though things were about to get violent. The
woman entered the conversation for the first time. "You're not rejecting things out
of hand then?"
"No, I've always been able to work something out with Ed or Tony, but this
man is crude, I want no more discussion with him. Either he leaves the room and
we carry on, or we leave and start afresh elsewhere. I'd prefer that we left, the
atmosphere in here is tainted."
Tony scrambled in the confined space to allow Will to get by. With the door
half open he spoke to the man on the bed before leaving. "One move toward
upsetting my family and you'll wish you'd never been born."
Finding himself back on the fourth floor landing Will walked over to a recess
nearby and leaned into the corner, his body reacting like a giant spring, unwinding.
He was expecting to wait for some time as there would no doubt be some
discussion by the others but within the minute Tony and Margaret appeared.
She was much taller than he had envisaged standing several inches above
Tony. At first they didn't see him because he was out of their line of sight and it
appeared that they were at a loss, probably thinking that Will had left permanently.
Stepping into view, Tony ran forward, a look of relief on his face.
"We thought you'd left to find your own way home."
"No, I wouldn't leave you up in the air."
"There's a coffee shop five minutes walk from here, could you spare some time
for Margaret? There was so much confrontation back there that she didn't get the
chance."
"I'm sorry Tony, but I did warn you what could happen."
The mere act of walking out of the building and into the fresh air was like a
tonic and Will began to feel better with every stride. There was only one customer
in the coffee shop and he was seated at the counter.
Tony went over to order as Will and Margaret found a booth in the corner and
sat opposite each other. She looked across at Will a wry smile on her face. "That
was quite a performance back there, are you always that aggressive?"
"No, only to people that I think deserve it, but I'm glad about one thing."
"What's that?"
"If you had joined in with your friend I don't think I could have coped."
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Margaret laughed. "He's no friend of mine, we'll be glad to see the back of him
when he leaves this weekend. He comes from the old school, they always think
they can get things done by threats. Those methods were dispensed with years
ago."
Will glanced across at the counter. Tony was still standing there waiting for his
order. "Before Tony get's back I'd like to make one thing clear."
"You're not going to order me about are you?"
"No, if you're taking over from Ed I won't go through a third person. Don't use
Tony as a go-between, I'll only deal with you."
"What about the surveillance equipment?"
"Tony can drop that off, but where there's discussions to take place it's just
you and me. Tony will tell you how to contact me."
"I agree, it's a relief to know that Derek Bates didn't foul everything up. I'll be
straight with you and after tonight I know that you'll be straight with me." She
reached over the table and they shook hands.
Tony returned with a tray. He had bought himself a giant size four and twenty
meat pie and he proceeded to attack it like a man possessed. Will and Margaret
sat watching him, waiting for him to come up for air. "Well Margaret, what did you
want to ask Will?"
"There's no need for any more talk at the moment, it's all sorted out."
Tony looked from Will to Margaret and then back to Will again waiting for
some sort of explanation, but no one offered. He shrugged his shoulders and
commenced attacking his pie again.
During the drive home Will tackled Tony about what had happened
immediately he had left the room. He was curious why things had terminated so
quickly. Margaret had told Bates in no uncertain terms to stop the use of threats
and leave her to do what was necessary. She had also told him that if he
implemented anything when he got back to the U.K. she would see to it that his
bungling of the affair was made known to his superiors.
Will felt better, but once blackmail had been proffered as a possibility, it could
rear it's ugly head again sometime in the future, and he would still have to carry the
burden.
Margaret wasted no time and with information from Tony she was waiting
outside the General Store in Vermont when Will got off the bus one evening. It had
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only been a few days since the affair in St. Kilda. "I know you'll be eager to get
home, perhaps we could make arrangements to meet, the sooner the better for my
part."
"What do we have to talk about?"
"I'd like to find out how you worked with Ed Blake."
"Tony could tell you that."
"I don't think he can. Ed didn't confide in Tony and neither did you. You must
have had a special relationship and it seemed to work on both sides."
"I can only talk about my side not Ed's, and to what end?"
"That's why we should get together soon. Will you do that for me?"
"I can see no harm in it provided it's just talk."
"Let's call it an exploratory meeting shall we? Tomorrow evening then, say 8
o'clock. You pick the place."
Whenever possible, Will wanted to keep the organization away from Vermont
and at that very moment they were standing only a few minutes walk from the
house. The Heathmont meeting had been handy for him, only a short drive away.
"In the car park at Heathmont Station."
"That will suit me fine." She walked over to a small black 2-door sports car
and sped up Mitcham Road, like a racing driver leaving the starting line. He could
still hear the sound of the exhaust as he walked down the hill, his mind trying to
analyze recent events, especially Margaret's appearance on the scene. In some
respects, she had a similar approach to Ed, but it was too early to be sure.
She surely must be well qualified to be taking over from Ed. He would have
to be as cautious with her as he was with Ed, take things one step at a time and let
the circumstances dictate how he should act.
Will arrived at Heathmont Station on time but Margaret's car was not there.
A couple of minutes later however, he could hear the characteristic tone of her
car's exhaust as it climbed the hill in Canterbury Road, seconds later it circled
around the car-park and stopped on the other side. Will remained seated.
It was definitely her car but he had not seen her at the wheel. The door opened
and she got out, looked across to where Will was parked and then got back
inside. Not knowing the make of Will's car she too was being cautious. Will
walked across and opened the passenger side door.
She removed a book from the passenger seat and Will sat down. When the
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door closed he became acutely aware of the cramped conditions. It was positively
claustrophobic.
"Are you married?" he asked.
"No, divorced."
"I wonder what part the organization had to play in that?" Will hurried to
qualify what he had just said. "I believe in calling a spade a spade, and the work
that you are involved in does have a destructive element about it."
She turned her head and their eyes were no more that twelve inches apart,
there was no hesitation, not even a blink. "Yes, it did play a part, it wasn't his fault,
but why are you asking me about my private life?" She hesitated and then smiled.
"You're not trying to find a chink in my armour are you?"
"No, it's just that you've brought a new dimension into my life that will require
some adjustment on my part."
"Oh, and what might that be?"
"Well I am married, we're expecting our first baby in a few weeks, and if my
wife knew that I was meeting with another woman I think I would be joining the
ranks of the divorced as well!"
Margaret burst out laughing. "You're worried about being seen with me then?"
"Yes, I'll have to be super careful. If Dorothy ever found out I would have to
tell her what I've been involved in all these years and I don't want that to happen."
"I'll give you a phone number where you can make contact, but when we need
to meet I have just the place. No one in the organization knows of it's existence
and you'll find it easy to get to, so you won't be away from home too long."
Will looked around the inside of the car. "Sitting in this car is like being packed
into a sardine tin, furthermore I can tell that it's you from a mile away by the
distinctive tone of your exhaust. It's a dead give away."
"No one's ever told me that before, I was thinking of changing it anyway. It's
a good enough reason for disposing of it - sooner rather than later."
Will looked at his watch. "I must be getting back, I promised Dorothy I'd be
back within the hour."
"But all we've discussed is our respective private lives, I haven't achieved what
I came for."
"Well, I don't consider that much of a crisis, do you?"
A quizzical look came over Margaret's face. "I can't make you out Will
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Brenner, why is it that I have the feeling that I'm being manipulated?"
"I guess that's a reciprocal feeling until we know where we both stand and that
won't happen in one meeting."
"Are you suggesting that we meet again, soon I hope?"
"Yes, I've learned enough to warrant carrying on. Perhaps one evening at your
hideaway."
"How soon?"
"I'm a member of the Institute of Recording Engineers and their meetings are
held in the city. I go straight from work and get home late. The next meeting is on
Monday, but I don't have to attend. You could pick me up at 4.30 p.m. outside
the factory and then take me home afterwards."
"That's excellent, hopefully we can get things sorted out at that time."
Will got out and waited until Margaret's car was out of sight, everything had
been easy going. Too easy going, and an element of suspicion crept into his
thinking. Driving back up the hill he pulled off the side of the road and into the
trees where he could get a good view of the car-park below. Expecting to see
another car appear that perhaps may have been monitoring the meeting, he waited
for at least fifteen to twenty minutes, but nothing happened. Perhaps his suspicions
were unfounded, but he would have to try and strike a balance between
cautiousness and paranoia.
Will sat in the lounge-room looking across at Dorothy, a mixture of thoughts
circulating in his head. There's got to come a time one day, when she would start
to get suspicious about his comings and goings. He was so engrossed in his
thoughts that he didn't notice that she had raised her head and was looking back
at him. "What are you staring at me for Will?"
"I didn't realize I was staring, honestly. I was just engrossed in my own
thoughts." Yes, there would probably come that day and he would have to cope
with it at the time.
It was always good to be at home for the whole weekend and this one was no
exception. They would do their shopping locally, on Saturday morning and pick
up a box of apples from the orchard at the bottom of the hill. Then for the rest of
the weekend work around the house and garden, there was always plenty to do.
It was a respite from the battles at the factory during the week.
Leaving work on Monday afternoon Will looked for Margaret's sports car, but
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there was no sign of it. After the street had cleared there was just one car
remaining, a large comfortable looking, black chevrolet sedan. It's engine started
up and it crossed the road and pulled up alongside. Will opened the door and sat
down in it's spacious interior.
He looked across at Margaret. "This goes from the sublime to the ridiculous!"
The motor purred and Will sat in the relative silence as they headed east towards
the Dandenong Ranges.
"What sort of a day have you had Will?"
"Do you know anything about large scale production?"
"No."
"Well, you can liken it to a battleground where no one ever gets killed, only
tortured mentally. There are basically two opposing sides. The production team's
only desire is to get as much through as possible and earn big money, and the
quality control team does their utmost to stop them. Each side has it's own method
of getting information to use against the other. It would be a marvellous training
ground for your agents!"
"How about you?" Margaret smiled and stared ahead without answering. "You
don't need to say anything about your work, Ed didn't."
"I've inherited the usual problems of taking over."
"That's the story of my life. I'm always getting thrown into the lion's den."
They continued on without further conversation. Will looked out at the
countryside, they were well outside the confines of the city proper now. He knew
Melbourne well and at the rate and direction they were going they would soon be
not far from where he lived in Vermont. The car turned north however, and in less
than ten minutes he realized that they were somewhere between Park Orchards
and Warrandyte.
It was a beautiful suburb with steep hills, lots of trees, and sparsely populated.
The road took a sudden turn to the right but the car braked and turned abruptly
to the left into a small clearing between the trees. "This entrance is well concealed,
drivers are always concentrating on the sharp bend and I purposely don't have it
sign posted."
They were now travelling up a fairly steep dirt track, the car wheels falling in
and out of narrow gullies created by small rivers of rain water that had run down
the hill. The house seemed to appear out of nowhere, a timber building nestled into
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the side of the hill, it's construction dwarfed by large thick wooden piers some
twelve feet in height supporting it's weight. Driving between the supports Margaret
parked the car under the house. Will got out and looked back through the densely
packed trees which completely screened the house from the road.
They entered the house from underneath after climbing two sets of wooden
stairs. He was beginning to see the advantages with regard to it's security. At first
glance, the inside of the house appeared much larger than he had anticipated. Most
of the doors were open revealing two bedrooms, a kitchen, a small washroom and
a large open plan dining and lounge. Glass doors opened out on to a six foot wide
balcony that spanned the length of the house looking out high into the tree tops.
"How did you manage to find this property? Is it rented?"
"No, it belongs to my father, he built it when he was a young man working up
here. My mother died a few years ago and he's lived down in the city since then,
he leaves it up to me to keep the property in liveable condition. I have a place
close to him and spend half my time there and half up here." She stopped and
turned. "Here we go again talking about personal matters, we'll have to get down
to why we came here in the first place. I've prepared something to eat, we can
start talking then."
"You mean the interrogation?" The meal left very much to be desired. She
could take a few lessons from Dorothy. "Shall we get started then?"
"No not yet, it will only take a few minutes to finish here, we can take our
coffee out on to the deck."
"But it's dark and cool out there." A sudden look of realization came over her
face. "You think that the conversation will be recorded. I can assure you that it
won't be, I can also see now why you didn't discuss anything in the car. You've
been sizing me up, trying to decide whether to trust me or not."
"I don't trust anybody. You're a government agent, worse still, an agent whose
in charge of other agents. I told you in the car when we met at Heathmont I like
to call a spade a spade, so let's use the right term shall we? You are paid to spy
and you control other spies."
"We're not going to fall out are we?"
"No, back at the coffee shop in St. Kilda we shook hands agreeing to be
straightforward with each other. I'm being just that right now, and I'd like you to
appreciate that."
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"I'll put my jacket on, there's a couple of chairs on the deck, we'll do as you
suggest."
It wasn't cold outside and the lights from the house illuminated practically the
whole of one end of the deck. Will moved his chair around so that his voice would
be directed outwards into the faint breeze, avoiding detection from indoors. He
questioned his paranoia but it was best to be careful.
Margaret came out and sat in the chair about four or five feet away facing him.
"Before we start Margaret, I'll tell you what I want from you, then I'll tell you what
you want to know. Is that okay?"
"Yes, go ahead."
"I need someone that can counteract situations that may arise similar to what
happened last week with Derek Bates from the U.K. I have to protect my family
at all costs. What I threatened to do that night would be an act of desperation on
my part. There's only one other thing. I had an arrangement with Ed that worked
fine. He promised that there would be no threats to get work done and he always
supplied me with the facts before he asked me to do anything. It gave me the
opportunity to evaluate what the risks were, and he was always aware that there
could be a time when I might say no."
Margaret's face had remained passive throughout. "I can do both those things,
I can promise that they will not present any problems."
"What do you want to hear from me?"
"Just a brief account from the beginning."
Will started with the interrogation at Gourock, mentioned by Derek Bates, and
then from one incident to the next, up to the present day without disclosing names
of the people concerned. "All these things that happened were obtained by threats
until I met Ed in Australia."
Margaret had sat listening without interjecting. "What you've told me takes my
breath away, it's no wonder that you take the cautious path with everything you
do. I've heard everything I want to hear, unless you think there's anything else?"
"Yes, a couple of things. Ed Blake was killed because of sloppy work by your
agents, I'd feel very insecure if I had to work with them and there's one that I
would get rid of straightway."
"If you're talking about Dan, Tony told me about your efforts to bring him into
line."
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"Yes, but he'll start all over again, especially now there's a woman in charge.
He won't accept things like some of the others, but having said that, they all need
sorting out." Will hesitated before proceeding. "Tony is a loyal and decent person,
he's good at what he does but for God's sake don't confide in him. He's lost out
in the field, he's weak, so if he get's put under pressure he'll spill the beans, and
you'll be finished, if you've told him anything vital."
The wind was now getting cold and they went back indoors to have a final
drink before leaving. "You've never been involved in violence have you? It's all
been sophisticated stuff, you need to have someone that you can rely on, to take
over when violence appears."
"Things are much clearer to me now and I know the way ahead."
It seemed only minutes before Will was being dropped off in Vermont. He was
home earlier than usual and was expecting a response from Dorothy but none
came. It was getting towards the time when he would have to be home every
evening, no meetings in the city or anywhere for that matter, until the baby was
born.
The pressures at work continued to increase and Will was beginning to
question whether they would ever peak. His periods at home were hardly giving
him enough time to recharge his batteries and he was finding it difficult to keep a
grip on things. Recent events, concerning the organization, pressures at work, and
the constant expectation of the new arrival, were all contributing to one big mix.
He was dealing with crisis on demand like a juggler at the circus.
The phone had not yet been installed, and one such incident was initiated by
Ivan knocking on the door about 8 o'clock one evening. "You're wanted on the
phone Will, it sounds urgent. They wouldn't leave a message."
Will ran back up the street to Ivan's house and grabbed the phone, it was
Margaret on the other end. "Will! Dan's giving trouble, I'm expecting him here any
minute. Can you help me?"
"Don't do anything foolish just try and keep things low key, I'm on my way."
She must be desperate. Will had not given her Ivan's phone number, and directory
enquiries would not have been forthcoming with the information, unless she had
used her influence.
The short drive over seemed an age, his heart was pounding not knowing what
to expect when he arrived. He had disposed of the gun in the river at Warrandyte
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and now he was regretting it. Dan would be armed and he only had his bare
hands, damn! damn! damn! he kept saying to himself, over and over again.
Parking the car near the road he ran the final distance up the hill hoping to get
there without being heard. Dan's car was parked in front of the house and as he
climbed the stairs he could hear shouting coming from above him. He stopped at
the top of the stairs and looked through the aperture left by the partly open door.
Dan was gripping Margaret around the throat from behind with his left arm and
her right arm was pulled up behind her back. He was shouting in her ear and she
was powerless to do anything. He was edging her towards the deck and Will
pictured the twenty foot drop to the driveway. The consequences of waiting to
take any action were horrific, but Dan's back was turned and he had the perfect
advantage.
Will ran forward and grabbing Dan from behind pulled him off balance and all
three fell backwards on to the floor with Margaret on top of the heap. She quickly
wrenched herself free and rolled away to a safe distance. A struggle continued
between the two men and as Dan produced his gun, flashes of the fight with ferret
man surfaced in Will's mind, the years in between falling away. This time he was
determined that the outcome would be different.
Will tried to snatch the gun from his hand but he caught the hammer with his
finger and the gun exploded with a deafening sound. It caught Dan off guard, he
had a perplexed look on his face and for one fleeting second Will thought he had
been shot. Taking advantage of the moment he gave Dan a violent shove, and
losing his grip the gun rattled across the floor. Dan continued to roll backwards
through the doorway until he disappeared, falling down the first flight of stairs. He
just lay there on the landing, not moving.
Will sat at the top of the stairs, his chest rising and falling, like an old-fashioned
printing press, he looked across the room at Margaret. He could see that her
whole body was shaking, Will picked up the pistol and went over to her. Taking
her by the hand he led her to the nearest chair.
"It's all over now, take it easy for a minute."
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know, I'll go down and have a look." Will was dreading the next
moment as he approached the stairs, but as he looked down he could see Dan
moving. Helping him back up into the house, all three sat, trying to recover.
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Margaret's shaking was now subsiding.
"Get us all a drink please Margaret."
There was no bloodshed. Dan had bumped his head on the way down,
temporarily knocking him unconscious. No one spoke as they sipped their coffee,
Will smiled inwardly. Margaret made terrible coffee but he didn't say anything, it
wasn't an appropriate time.
Dan looked up, Will thought he was going to burst into tears. "I've been a
bloody fool again, haven't I?"
"You sure have, what brought this on?"
"Margaret was transferring me to Sydney and I just couldn't take it. I suppose
I'm finished now."
Margaret looked at Will. "What do you think Will?"
"Only the three of us know what happened. If you can spare an agent to make
certain he gets to Sydney and reports in, the incident can remain a secret between
the three of us, that's if there's no more trouble."
"I've got no relatives or family here, I won't be coming back." He looked
across at Margaret. "I'm sorry I gave you trouble, it won't happen again."
Will walked him down to his car and sat with him as it freewheeled down the
driveway to where his own car was parked. Before he left Dan's car he turned to
him. "I'm cheesed off with you. You're within a hair's breadth of getting what I
threatened to do that night in your house!"
"No, don't do that Will, I'll be off to Sydney tomorrow and out of your lives."
"Just one more incident Dan and it could be disastrous for you." He nodded
and drove off.
Will parked his car next to the house and went back up. It looked as though
Margaret had been shedding tears, it was not unusual in the aftermath of a
traumatic occasion. "Are you okay now?"
"Much better, I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't arrived.
I'll be forever indebted to you."
Will put his finger to his lips to stop her talking. "You owe me nothing."
"After listening to your past the other evening I now know first hand what
you've been up against."
"I try not to think of the past, just today and the future. Get on the phone
straightway and organize for someone to accompany Dan to Sydney. Keep your
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finger on the pulse until he gets there and your counterpart in Sydney phones to
say that the transfer is complete."
Whilst Margaret was on the phone Will tried to relax. Suddenly he realized
that he had not seen Dorothy before he left. What would Ivan have said to her?
He stood up experiencing mild panic. "What's the matter Will?"
"Dorothy doesn't know where I've gone. Ivan, the man you phoned is a friend,
he will have told her that there was some sort of emergency."
"Do you want to phone your friend?"
"No, I would probably be back there before Ivan delivered the message. I
think you should go back to your place in Melbourne to be on the safe side, I'll see
you off and then go home."
They switched off the lights and went down to the cars. "You've now
experienced the violence I talked about last week. Get yourself someone that can
handle himself when trouble arises."
"I'll do that Will." She stepped towards him and bending forward kissed him
on the cheek. "I'm still indebted to you, Will Brenner."
Will stood rooted to the spot, he had never looked at Margaret as a woman
before, only an agent for the organization. He watched as she reversed out and
disappeared down the hill, realizing just how vulnerable she really was, in the life
style she had adopted. Taking one last look at the house in darkness, Will got into
his car and drove back to the main road.
His anxiety was unfounded when he arrived back home to Dorothy, but this
was one of the rare times that he had to concoct an outright lie. There was one
moment of panic however when she asked. "What's that red mark on your
cheek?" and for a moment he froze until he remembered that Margaret never wore
lipstick. "It's only a scratch, I don't even remember doing it." It could only have
happened during the scuffle with Dan.
The next morning Will stepped on to the production floor and the usual six or
eight staff were waiting for him, following him to the sides and rear. "We've got a
problem with so and so, Will." "Mr. Brenner, what do I do about this?" flourishing
a piece of paper in front of his face. The questions were endless and continuous,
all the way to his office.
As he placed his briefcase on the desk he didn't release it, the gabble of voices
around him seemed to fade in intensity. Something inside was telling him that he'd
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had enough. Picking up the briefcase he turned and walked out again.
"Where are you going Mr. Brenner? Are you alright Will?" He just kept going,
his entourage following him like a group of beggar boys in Bombay, until he
cleared the building into the street. The group stood there, seemingly helpless, their
mouths wide open.
He caught the next train and finally the local bus back to Vermont and home.
He sat on the back verandah, the sun was warm and it was so peaceful. Within the
hour a car pulled into the driveway and they tried to persuade him to go back, but
there was nothing on God's earth that would move him back to the brink of
insanity, and eventually they left him alone.
Dorothy was not home and he sat there in silence with the full realization of
what he had done. She was leaving work, the baby was due soon. Now he was
out of a job and it was his own fault. It was the moment for self chastisement and
he didn't spare the whip.
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Chapter 12
The Byer Tapes
Will's life was a mess. The only stable element was Dorothy, and the expected
arrival, and he was perilously close to destabilizing even that. Dorothy was now
seven months and had left work. There was no income coming in, and what little
they had accumulated in the bank, would soon be gone.
All the external forces instrumental with putting him under pressure had now
ceased. Even the organization had stopped contacting him, probably because
Margaret would be into reorganizing, which could take quite some time, perhaps
as much as a year.
As each day passed he was slowly coming to the realization that he was sitting
waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. There was plenty of work out
there but he was scared to make a move in case he got thrust into turmoil once
again. Dorothy kept suggesting that he should perhaps try to get work locally.
Every evening on the train he had noticed a small factory located just before his
stop. The name was Watson Victor and they manufactured Electro-Medical
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equipment.
Taking the initiative, Dorothy walked there the following day to ask whether
they had any vacancies. The result of her enquiry was an interview and Will started
work almost immediately.
From the very first day, he settled into an atmosphere that was tailored to
rectify his failing mental condition. The pace was easy, nobody rushed, and the
work was interesting. Things could have been better financially, but it was sufficient
to get things at home back on an even keel.
The factory employed no more than fifty people and consisted of a machine
shop, electrical production department, test room, and a research and
development section. Raw materials came into one end of the factory and the
finished product out the other.
Within the month he was beginning to feel his old self again and a move into
the test room with more money even made things better, added to that was the
reassurance that he was close to home with Dorothy getting nearer to her time.
It all started to happen late one Saturday morning, and Will took Dorothy to
the Royal Victoria Hospital, in the Melbourne city centre, in the early afternoon.
He would not be visiting until the following lunch time.
There was plenty of time to reflect on what was happening when he got back
to an empty house. The end bedroom next to their own had been equipped as a
nursery. Will had made a large cot with end cupboards and drawers to house a
bath, with both storage and hanging space for clothes.
He stood, trying to imagine what the next few days would be like. Looking out
of the window the trees were losing their leaves - it was autumn. As with the
weather, he had no control over what was happening, and all he could hope for
was that everything would go well.
On Sunday morning, just before lunch time, Will walked up the five floors to
see Dorothy. He could see by the look on her face that it had happened.
Louise Anne had been born in the early hours of the morning around 6 a.m.
It was the 6th of May 1956, the year of the Olympic games in Melbourne, and
television was being launched simultaneously to show the events.
The year went by without incident. The organization had not made
contact. He had watched Louise go through the stages of growing into a toddler,
always with the niggling thought in the back of his mind that he could suddenly find
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himself struggling through another clandestine affair, in an effort to keep the family
out of that part of his life. Early the following year, Dorothy was pregnant again,
and throughout the whole nine months, no connections were made by either Tony
or Margaret.
Everything had gone well until the evening of 26th November 1957. It was
Tuesday and Dorothy suddenly went into labour. She was pottering in the garden
at the time and bending over with the pain. Panic stations developed and Will took
Louise up to Ivan's house to leave her there. Even at that age she took everything
seriously. She didn't say a word, but her little lower lip was quivering and it looked
for a moment that she was going to burst into tears. Will's heart skipped a beat,
but he had no other choice but to leave her.
Ivan followed close behind in his car as Will raced down the Maroondah
Highway, his foot flat down on the accelerator and with horn blazing as he ran
through the red traffic lights. Ivan said afterwards that there was a trail of sparks
shooting out of the vehicle's exhaust pipe!
Two maternity nurses were waiting at the front door of the Box Hill hospital
and they ushered Dorothy into the elevator. Will looked around for Ivan but he
had turned around and gone back. There was nothing more he could do so he
slowly made his way back home to pick up Louise.
It was only a seven mile drive but on arrival at Ivan's he came running out and
he was having a job to contain his excitement. "Dorothy's had the baby. It's a boy,
congratulations! They said if you go back you can see him."
Will high tailed it back to the hospital, and was leaving the elevator on the
maternity floor, just as they wheeled Dorothy and Mark Andrew out into the
corridor, on a trolley. He was a big baby - nine pounds, three and a half ozs, and
twenty-one inches long, born at 10.27 p.m. but he was screaming so loudly that
it was impossible to conduct any conversation other than to be told that Mark was
in pain and that a consultant was on his way in to see him. Dorothy was fine, but
as Will left to go home he could still hear those screams ringing in his ears for a
long time afterwards.
It was close to midnight when he arrived to pick up Louise. Instead of finding
her asleep she was sitting with a look of despair on her face. Ivan's wife looked
embarrassed. "She wouldn't let me put her to bed. She just sat and waited."
"Don't worry, it's good to know that she's been in safe hands." Inside however,
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he felt sick with Louise's little hand gripping him so tightly, there was no mistaking
that she was sending him a message. He picked her up and carried her home and
within minutes she was fast asleep.
Will lay on the bed, his mind was split in two. On the one side was Mark
screaming his head off, and on the other, the quiet despair of Louise being left with,
in her mind, strangers. Their respective families still lived in England, thirteen
thousand miles away, and they would have to accept being on their own.
Visiting the hospital next day, Will learned that Mark had sustained a
greenstick fracture of his collar bone whilst he was being born, and it would take
him awhile to get better. It seemed completely out of keeping to see this little baby
with his arm in a sling!
Will's associate in the test room at work was away, consequently, he could not
take any time off. The routine of leaving Louise at Ivan's each day, then being with
her briefly in the early evening before visiting the hospital was painful, to say the
least. He could see that she was suffering in silence by the look on her face when
he picked her up to take her home.
A few days later Dorothy came home with baby Mark, so now they were a
family of four and everyone settled down to a more secure routine. Needless to
say, Louise was more often than not clinging to her mother, probably wondering
when she was going to be whisked away again!
It had been nearly three years now since making the move to Watson-Victor,
and Louise was approaching her third birthday. By now he had covered every
aspect of the work that was required of him, and things had remained easy, with
no challenges or trauma, consequently, he was in excellent condition mentally.
The only factor that he realized he would have to address, sooner or later, was
the financial aspect. There were very few pay rises, and very little prospect of
anything forthcoming on the horizon. One of the employee's would occasionally
help him out in the test-room, a man by the name of Frank Churchill and it was he
who provided him with the answer.
"I'm leaving next week Will."
"Have you got a job to go to?"
"Yes, there's a company in the city and they're still looking for television
engineers. Do you want me to put a word in for you?"
Will was wary, as things stood at the moment he was as secure as he could
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ever be. "Drop in and let me know how you get on." After Frank had left Will
found it difficult to get the thought out of his mind that he could possibly get back
into television.
Frank was back visiting the test-room only one week later, enthusiastic about
the company and the work. He had been supplied with a vehicle, but Will gasped
when he learned that the salary was nearly double to what he was currently
earning.
"If you're interested I can pick you up tomorrow morning and take you in to
meet the Manager. With your qualifications he'll employ you straightway."
Will didn't hesitate, he was ready for any challenge now that he'd had the
benefit of what could only be described as a long spell of rehabilitation. He talked
excitedly with Dorothy that night about the prospects of their finances getting such
a big boost. It would take them clear out of the doldrums.
The conditions of employment were simple. If you could handle the job you
were in, if you couldn't you were out. Problem solving in electronics was second
nature to Will, he had no misgivings about throwing himself into the work.
This particular branch of the company employed around forty field engineers
and it's electronics workshops were located just north of the city centre. Covering
the whole of the Melbourne metropolitan area and the surrounding suburbs on a
daily basis, this small segment of the company was minuscule in comparison to the
size of the overall organization.
Will was just settling down to the daily work routine when a note appeared in
his message box which he checked each day before leaving to go on the road. It
simply read "please phone Margaret" Tony. Will looked around him, his
conscience playing tricks, but he had no need for concern. The department was
always buzzing with activity at this time of the morning, everyone was eager to
clear the building and get to their first call.
It was a good fifteen mile drive to his first job enabling him enough time to
chew things over. It had been a long time since the episode with Dan at
Margaret's hide-a-way. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a likeness
to eating something that was now having a detrimental effect. Tony must have been
tracking his activities to be able to leave the message. It was written by one of the
office girls on a company's telephone message pad. Once started, his work
demanded his total attention, consequently, he gave it no further thought until he
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was driving home.
Dorothy and the children were in the garden when he arrived and after
spending some time with them he went inside and looked up Margaret's phone
number. The phone had now been installed and he sat by the extension in the
bedroom, hesitating at the thought of once again being involved. She answered
immediately, something he had not expected.
"Tony left me a message."
"How are you Will?"
"I'm fine."
"Can you call in and see me one evening?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"Anytime during the course of the week will do, you know where to come.
I'll be there most evenings."
"It isn't urgent then?"
"No, not this time." Will could hear her laughing quietly, no doubt recalling the
last time she phoned Ivan's house. Will replaced the phone, at least it wasn't urgent
and he felt relieved about that, but as he sat watching the family he knew that it
always started like this, and ended up with some sort of violence or anxiety.
He used the service vehicle to go to Margaret's on the following evening, and
slowed down to let another car pass as he approached the entrance on the bend.
The turn in was so abrupt it would be easy to create an accident. Parking the
vehicle so as to hide the company markings, he climbed the stairs to the house.
The door was open and he could see Margaret engaged on the telephone. He
stepped into view and she beckoned for him to take a seat. By the time he had
settled down he heard the receiver click back into place and she came and sat
opposite him.
"You look fit Will."
"You don't look too bad yourself, how is the job shaping up?"
"It's going like clockwork, it couldn't be better."
"We'll have to change that, won't we?" They both laughed.
"Violent changes do seem to occur when you're around."
"You sent for me, so you're bringing it on yourself. Have you got yourself
another husband yet?"
"No, but you've got yourself a couple of children."
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Will took her last statement as a veiled threat and he launched a verbal barrage
against her.
"I'm glad to see that you're still in good form Will, but there was no need for
that. We always promised to be straight with each other. If I know everything
that's going on, I'm surely in a better position to act in the best interest, regarding
your welfare."
"I'm sorry Margaret I went off at half cock, why am I here?"
"There's some new surveillance equipment being evaluated and I'd like your
advice."
"Have you got the equipment here?"
"No, just the information, I don't want it around until I know that it's going to
be satisfactory. The general consensus of opinion is that it's what we want." She
went over to her briefcase and taking out a bunch of papers dropped them next
to Will. "Look at those and tell me what you think, in the meantime, would you like
a cup of coffee?"
"No, no thanks."
"I make a shocking cup of coffee don't I?" Will hesitated.
"You can be frank."
"Yes."
"In that case I'll get you a lemonade."
Will slowly looked over the information and Margaret sat and waited. He
discarded the last paper and looked up. "Well?"
"None of them will be any good for you."
"Not any?"
"No."
"I can't just tell them it's no good. I have to give a reason."
"There's nothing I've seen that you can't already do with your existing
equipment. To be perfectly blunt, some of it is far less efficient. Furthermore, it's
already outdated, and before you get it into full service, it will have been
superseded."
"By what?"
"Transistors are taking the place of valves. They will revolutionize the
electronics industry, especially in the area of surveillance, because the overall size
of the electronics will be reduced drastically, including the battery supplies. I would
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advise that you hold on to your existing equipment for awhile, in the meantime, you
can adapt it to do more types of work for very little cost. All that's required is a
bit of ingenuity from your agents to come up with new ways."
"Would you be prepared to help me?"
"It's been an agreement all along since I first met Ed that I would do that,
provided he kept his end of the bargain and he always did."
"We're not talking about Ed now, only me."
"Nothing's happened from my point of view to change the arrangement."
Margaret sat with a blank look on her face. "I can't believe what I've just been
advised, you've probably saved us thousands! How are you privy to this
advanced information?”
Will burst out laughing, he couldn't contain himself. "Go to any electronics
establishment that's worth it's salt anywhere in the country and ask a sixteen year
old apprentice and he'll tell you the same thing. You should have someone in the
group that's keeping you up-to-date, Tony could organize that I'm sure."
"I'll look into it, but in the meantime you'll still advise me?"
"Yes." Will stood up prepared to leave. "That's all, I hope."
"No, there's something more important I want to talk to you about. Can you
spare another half an hour or do you have to get back?"
"I can spare that much time, what's it all about?"
"All of my reorganization is now in place and working well, but there's one
element that's missing. It is only required occasionally, and needs your special type
of application." Will could feel history repeating itself, he knew what was coming
but could do nothing to stop it. The look on his face brought an immediate
response from Margaret, she moved over to sit next to him. "I know what you're
thinking Will, but just listen me out." She was close enough for Will to smell her
perfume. He discreetly turned his head to try and get out of range, it's presence
seemed completely alien to the nature of their conversation.
"I've been looking into your history and in the majority of cases, when you
move to new work, it seems that within a short period of time you get elevated to
positions of responsibility. I think the same thing will happen where you are now,
which will mean that you will get the opportunity of visiting the homes and business
places of notable people, here in Melbourne. When these occasions arise I want
to be in a position to ask you to look out for certain information."
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"What sort of information?"
"It could be anything, perhaps just a simple observation."
"It won't work."
"Why not?"
"I don't know where I'm going on any day until I arrive in the morning."
"Yes, that will be awkward, I'll have to find a way around that."
Will's brain was tabulating what she was saying and the only conclusion he was
coming to was that the more Margaret talked the more he seemed to be getting
pulled into the organization. "Look Margaret, I used to quarrel with Ed because
of the very thing you're doing. I always reminded him that I wasn't one of his
agents."
"Well, we're not going to fall out because I can help you in a way that Ed
couldn't."
"How so?"
"I have more influence than he had and since I promised to help cover you
from any further blackmail, I've given the subject a lot of thought."
"But if you've already given an assurance, why should more thought be
necessary?"
"Because I think you're going about things the wrong way."
"What things?"
"You never allowed Ed to record the work you did for him, especially that
which was valuable to the organization. Tony knows only part of it and he would
be of very little use to you, in a crisis. I've had to ask you to find out for myself,
and when I add up all the things you've done, it becomes a sizable benefit for the
organization. Plenty to use as a counterbalance against any individual, like Derek
Bates the English agent when he was trying to blackmail you." Will didn't answer,
he was weighing up the pro's and con's.
"I could set up a dossier now without telling you, but apart from the agreement
that we've made it would be a stupid risk on my part. If ever you found out it
would be the end of our relationship, we couldn't work together if that happened."
Will was slowly coming to the conclusion that something was being suggested
which could benefit him in the future, and she seemed to be genuinely trying to
help, but he mustn't lose sight of the fact that people like Margaret had their own
agenda's. The existence of a dossier could work both ways, and in the wrong
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hands, be detrimental for him.
"I understand everything you've said and it makes some sense, but it's what
you haven't said that worries me. If there's something you're holding back it would
be best I know now, otherwise everything could backfire on you."
Margaret stood up and walked into the kitchen without answering. She would
normally respond without hesitation so Will concluded that she was buying time.
He followed her and stood watching whilst she busied herself doing things that any
woman would do in the kitchen. Opening one of the drawers next to the sink
exposed a number of butcher's knives and a rolling pin. "Which one are you
intending to use on me? A knife or the rolling pin?"
She burst into laugher and then turned, her face becoming serious. "I'll never
forget the night Dan came here, I'm certain that he intended to push me over the
deck railing. You saved my life and I told you then that I was indebted to you."
Will was embarrassed. He walked out of the kitchen and stood in the centre
of the living-room. "I must get back, but before I go I think I know of a way to
inform you in advance where I'll be on the day, if I deem it necessary. All I have
to do is arrange another visit to return with component parts, I'd phone you before
I go for the second time."
"You won't have any trouble?"
"No, it's standard procedure."
"That's terrific, it will save me from having to set up a special link. What we've
talked about is acceptable then?"
"Yes, unless something crops up to warrant a change." They walked down the
stairs and over to Will's service vehicle.
"With the type of work you do you could go anywhere during the course of
the day, and no one would question why you were there."
"Don't let that scheming little mind of yours run away with itself. I've still got
plenty of constraints to deal with."
"I guess so. Goodbye Will, I'd like you to pass on my regards to Dorothy, but
I know you can't."
"That's one of the downsides to your job, it's something you'll have to put up
with."
Will looked in the rear vision mirror as he slowly steered down the steep
driveway. He could see Margaret watching him drive away and she remained
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there until the car fell below the line of sight. As he travelled the country road
back to Vermont he had not lost sight of the fact that Margaret was an agent, a
spy, and probably a brilliant one at that. Everything had seemed so plausible, but
that could be part of her brilliance. He must not allow his attitude towards the
organization to change.
Even though his job was demanding he enjoyed the constant challenge to his
expertise, but more so the fact that he totally controlled the activities of his day.
As time went by, Margaret's prediction began to materialize. He was allotted
specialized electronic's work, and in addition, calls to well known people, the first,
a female television personality who was gaining a lot of popularity at the time. Her
husband was also appearing on the box. The house was situated in a well-to-do
area and they had quite an audio visual set-up.
Will appeared around mid morning and she had taken him into a large room
capable of entertaining fifty people or more. All the equipment was situated at the
far end, housed in oak cabinets. The room contained sundry easy chairs positioned
in various places, but the main seating consisted of two large four seater settees,
which stretched across the room in front of the equipment, also taking advantage
of a big screen television set, which had broken down. Will moved the unit
forward to get to the rear and kneeling behind it, started work.
The television personality was a tall, thin blonde, wearing oversized sunglasses.
Why do these people wear dark glasses? Perhaps they've got something to hide.
She sat on the settee directly in front of the TV and picked up a magazine from a
small table to read. Not aware that Will could see her through the ventilation grill
in the front of the cabinet, she temporarily removed her dark glasses and Will
nearly fell over backwards with what he saw. She had the biggest black eye he
had seen in a long time.
It was an easy job to rectify the fault, less than ten minutes and he was on his
way, carrying with him personal information and he could hear Margaret's
comment ringing in his ear "perhaps just a simple observation" there's got to be
other people that know she's being abused, and his mind turned to Joanna. Some
time later, it all came out in the newspapers. Her husband had become an alcoholic
and he was knocking her about. It ended in divorce.
Other situations followed but they were sporadic, appearing out of the blue
and invariably involved a morning visit. None were significant enough to instigate
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a call to Margaret but the pattern continued, until one morning, Will was
replenishing his component stock when he was called to the office.
Vince Bowker was the engineer that covered any calls to the Governor's
mansion, but he was away sick. A film was being made in Melbourne called "On
the Beach" starring Gregory Peck and Ava Gardiner.
"Tomorrow morning we want you to install and commission some TV and
audio. Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner are to be guests of the Governor at the
mansion during their time in Melbourne, "when you've finished show Mr. Peck
how to use the equipment," followed by an afterthought, "don't disgrace us by
looking like a scruff - be suitably dressed."
"I'll wear a clean white coat, if that's what you mean."
At the first opportunity after leaving the building, Will stopped at a public call
box and dialled Margaret's number. "It's Will, I need to see you. Can you be at the
usual place, say late this afternoon?"
"Yes, I'll be there. What's it about?"
"Tell you then."
Will pulled out all the stops to get finished early and it was approaching 4.30
p.m. when he parked in the now familiar place. Margaret's chevrolet was there
and he stood for a moment looking around at the scenery before climbing up to the
house, it was an idyllic setting. She was in the kitchen making a drink.
"That's not coffee is it?"
She smiled. "No." Will walked across the living-room and out on to the deck.
"What have you got to tell me Will?" Margaret had followed him and sat in one
of the chairs.
"Your prediction is coming to fruition. I've had several jobs at prominent
addresses and tomorrow I'm going to the Governor's mansion."
Margaret nearly choked on her drink, she spluttered as she spoke. "You did
say the Governor's mansion?"
"Yes. The stars that are making a film here are guests of the Governor, and we
have to set up temporary TV and audio."
"There's nothing we need to know about the Governor."
"I didn't think there would be, but now that these special jobs are becoming
more prevalent I thought it best to let you know."
"There is something you can do when you go tomorrow."
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"What's that?"
"Let me know what restrictions you come across. They may not let you out of
their sight. If they do, see how far you can wander around the premises without
being questioned, but be careful, you may be being watched."
"I know what you want. There are checks I can do in certain areas that would
be legitimate and within the company's policies, which I always adhere by to be
on the safe side." The conversation appeared to have reached it's limit and Will
made moves to leave.
"Tell me Will, when you're out there taking risks, how do you feel?"
He didn't have to think about the answer. "If I'm on my own I can keep my
nerves under control, but with someone else there I get uptight, waiting for
something to go wrong from start to finish, probably because it's happened on
more than one occasion. Why do you ask?"
"I have someone that may be able to look after the equipment, but he's young
and needs coaching. Would you be prepared to do that?"
Will felt a glimmer of hope arising at the prospects of reducing his activities
with the organization, but he'd experienced the feeling before and been
disappointed.
"Does it mean that he could eventually take over?"
"I don't think so, but he could help you quite a bit, make your life a lot easier."
"Did you choose him?"
"Yes, he's a third year apprentice in electronics. He had his sights set on a
career with the police force, but after looking into it changed his mind and it threw
him into a quandary. A contact we have in the police force passed him on to us."
"Poor sod." They both laughed. To Will, even the slightest chance of reducing
his activities was worth a shot.
"I'll give it a go. When can I meet this young man?"
"He has his own small workshop, I'll arrange for you to meet him there. Tony
can see to it that some of the equipment is available at that time."
Driving home, the events of the following day were furthest from his mind. It
was usual for all electronic's apprentices to do the assembly work and get
projects ready for final testing and approval. This could mean that there would be
no need for him to accommodate working on devices at home. He felt a cautious
optimism.
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There was very little in the way of tools or components needed for the job at
the Governor's mansion, but after checking to make sure he had everything, and
snapping his equipment boxes closed, a familiar voice called out to him from
across the other side of the workshop. It was Vince Bowker and he made his
way over. "I heard you're doing one of my jobs for me."
"Yes, I was told you were sick."
"I felt better this morning so I thought I'd come in and see how I got on."
"Has the work been rearranged then?"
"No, I think we should both go in case the installation needs moving around."
Will breathed a sigh of relief. It may be even better to have a second engineer
there, he could perhaps give more time to what was going on around him rather
than getting bound up with technicalities. Furthermore, Vince would be able to
verify his movements.
The mansion lived up to it's name, located in it's own grounds which were
impeccably upkept. Stepping inside, the sensation of being thrust into the Victorian
age was profound. A wide stairway curved up to the floors above dominating the
entrance hall, which was large enough in itself to hold a reception. Antique furniture
and paintings were in abundance, and their voices echoed as they walked across
the polished marble floor.
"I suppose you've been here a few times Vince?"
"I sure have. I'll show you the way up to the guest-rooms, that's where we
have to do the installation."
The sitting-rooms next to the guest bedrooms were plush and they set about
hooking up the equipment. There wasn't a soul about, the security man at the main
gate was the only person they had seen. Within minutes the installation was
complete.
"We'll go down below to find someone to organize things for us, there's usually
a man in a small office next to the study."
They descended the stairs, both turning to look up. Gregory Peck was coming
down with Ava Gardner following close behind. Vince had an outgoing personality
and always jumped in both feet first.
"I'll take Miss. Gardner, you take Mr. Peck."
"You crafty bugger!" but by the time Will had the words out of his mouth,
Vince was accosting them on the stairway.
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The equipment was simple and the operating instructions took very little time
to impart, but as he knelt shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Peck he momentarily
imagined what millions of fans would do to be in his position at that moment.
Afterwards Vince joined him in the guest sitting-room.
"You didn't push her for a date did you?" Both men laughed, but Will had to
find a way to get more time to look around the mansion.
"I think we should try to improve the picture quality, don't you?"
"Yes, it might be worth a try. I thought it was borderline as well."
"There's got to be an antenna booster somewhere in the building."
"You go and have a look, I'll wait here for you." Vince walked over to a
chaise-longue and picking up a magazine sat down. "A few minutes relaxation will
do me the world of good, take your time Will."
The place appeared deserted, enabling him to check the interiors of all the
rooms. He finished up in the study expecting to see a man in the adjacent office,
but it too was vacant. He stood for a few seconds acquainting himself with the
contents of the room.
"Can I help you?" Will jumped completely taken off guard. He'd been foolish
to be so complacent. Pivoting around on his heel the man confronting him was
small, dressed in pinstriped trousers with a matching waistcoat, his white shirt
sleeves were partially folded up to just below his elbows. He looked the epitome
of a civil servant.
"Yes, we're finishing off the installation in the guest-rooms."
"Are you with Vince?"
"Yes, he's waiting for me upstairs. I'm looking for the services that supply the
upstairs."
"There's a small locker-room next to the guest bathrooms. It has a dual
purpose to store bed linen, etcetera."
Will mounted the stairs. Thank heavens Vince had decided to come, it might
have been awkward otherwise. Quickly finding the amplifier, he turned up the gain.
He had completed what he had wanted to do, and it was now time to leave.
The remainder of the day was easy. He had been given a reduced schedule to
allow for the job at the Governor's mansion, and it was only 3.30 p.m. when he
called at Margaret's place, fully expecting her not to be there, but she was.
"It must be super to work in the environment you have here, but don't they
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miss you back at the office?"
"They can always get me on the phone. I can get more work done without
interruption."
"I don't suppose keeping the place secret was valid once Dan knew of it's
existence?"
"That's true, but as far as you and I are concerned I've taken out a service
contract with your company, so that when a service vehicle appears it's not
suspect. Furthermore, I can ask for you to be given the call on your way home, I
know that customers ask for their favourite engineer, so my asking for you will not
be out of place."
Will smiled. "I'd better bring my equipment up with me next time then, to
complete the picture."
"Yes, you're now officially my favourite engineer!"
Will outlined what had transpired at the Governor's mansion, and it could not
have been other than satisfactory to her. The case for security always amazed Will.
In the high profile areas there was precious little to be seen, but if you attempted
to breach the average company's office perimeter you could expect to be stopped
before you got across the threshold.
Will became engrossed in his work, there was plenty to do and hardly enough
hours in the day. Nothing of consequence happened that required phoning
Margaret but he knew that Tony would eventually make contact regarding the
young engineer. In the meantime, he was enjoying a welcome detachment from the
organization, hoping it would continue for awhile longer. There was one incident
that did occur however, which was in no way connected.
He was asked to do a job at a house in Toorak which was located next door
to the Prime Minister's residence. There was no partition fence between the
properties, the driveways practically merging into one as they curved out towards
the road. To keep the circular driveway clear Will parked his service vehicle
around the back and let himself in as instructed, as there was no one home. This
was not an unusual occurrence.
The fault was an intermittent one so Will had to set up his instruments to wait
for it to occur. He sat looking across the patio, it was so quiet and peaceful, he
could have relaxed back and closed his eyes but it would be fatal to be caught
asleep.
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One hour later the equipment faulted enabling him to fix it. Collecting his tools
together he closed the front door behind him and stepped out on to the driveway
but was immediately riveted to the spot.
There were two large black limousines in the Prime Minster's driveway and
standing no more that thirty to forty feet away was the President of the United
States, Linden Johnson, looking across at him with a quizzical look on his face.
Ten or so secret service agents stood momentarily with their mouths open, and
then about four of them lurched forward in Will's direction.
He braced himself for the worst, but they had only taken a few steps before
a shout rang out. By this time, the President had been pushed into the limousine,
and the agents turned on their heels, jumped on to the running board as it sped out
to the road, leaving Will standing alone in the silence, listening to the only sound of
any significance - the singing of the birds. The whole incident had taken just a few
seconds.
There was a note in his message slot one morning, only two words "phone
Tony" he would wait until he arrived home that evening. Once again Tony
answered at the first attempt, his attitude over the phone seemed upbeat,
everything must have been going okay.
"I've got everything organized for you to see the person Margaret talked to
you about."
"What suburb does he live in?"
"Preston."
Blast! The distance from home was more than he had anticipated, a good
hour's drive there and back.
"I want to get a date and time from you, but I won't give you any details over
the phone. I'll get them to you another way."
"For the first time it would be better for me to go during daylight hours, so it
will have to be the weekend, say this Saturday, early in the afternoon."
"I know that will be okay, he'll expect you."
Another note appeared at his place of work, this time sealed. He didn't like
Tony's way of relaying messages, it left very much to be desired. Opening the
envelope revealed a single sheet of paper with a name and address written on it
in long hand. The name was Adam Beresford, it rang no bells for Will. He was
eager to meet this young man to find out what effect he could have on his life. For
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the better he was hoping!
It was a hot afternoon, the sun at it's peak when he turned into the street.
Preston was an older suburb and the buildings reflected that fact. Some of the
weatherboard houses looked in need of repair and a coat of paint, but all enjoyed
fairly large plots of land. The house in question appeared to be a standard three
bedroom bungalow, standing well back from the road. Pulling into the driveway
Will got out and walked towards the house. He had only taken half a dozen paces
when a young man stepped out from the back and ran towards him, leaving Will
in no doubt that he had been waiting for his arrival.
He was short and stocky, with broad shoulders. As he approached with
outstretched hand he seemed to be bubbling over with enthusiasm. Gripping Will
by the hand he shook it so violently, it was painful. "Will Brenner?"
"Yes. Adam Beresford?"
"Yes. I know you, I've seen you before."
"Where would that be?"
"You're a member of the Institute of Sound Engineers. I saw you at one of the
lectures and also when you gave a technical demonstration there. I was at a lecture
at Electronic Industries one night when you were there too."
Will was taken aback by this young man's highly developed interest in
technical gatherings that were conducted around town. Whilst all this was going on
he was energetically leading Will to a building situated some distance from the
back of the main house. They walked through the first section which consisted of
living quarters, Adam explaining. "I live here, my parents live in the house," then
through to quite a large room equipped as an electronics workshop. Will glanced
around and was impressed.
It would have served a fully qualified engineer well, let alone an apprentice.
Adam began enthusing about the equipment and a new project he had just started
and Will realized that if he didn't take control of the situation it could go on ad
infinitum. "Shall we sit down somewhere so that we can talk?"
Adam stopped abruptly, the blank look on his face indicating that his brain had
changed pace and was starting to think that there were matters to discuss, other
than electronics. They retired to his living-room and sat down. If I pump him for
information the others will find out. Margaret hadn't given him any other
information about Adam, other than technical, they would no doubt question him
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about the meeting.
"How long have you been with Margaret's group?"
"I'm still finishing my apprenticeship so I'm not officially with them yet, not for
a couple of months. But I've been looking into the type of work and have become
very interested."
"Who are you with at the moment?"
"Amalgamated Wireless of Australasia."
Will knew the company well, a very prestigious firm. Adam will have served
an excellent apprenticeship.
"Have you looked at the equipment that the group is using at the moment?"
"Yes, but I'm a bit worried."
"About what?"
"Tony's asking me about upgrading, and I don't feel confident enough to do it."
"Can you build circuits from diagrams and do preliminary testing?"
"Yes, and I enjoy doing that."
"Tell Tony to see me about the upgrading. When I've decided how to go about
it we can put our heads together and come up with how best to achieve it. Tony
doesn't understand how electronics are derived, he could even ask you to do
something that hasn't been invented yet!"
"That's a relief, I didn't want to fail on my first project."
"I think you'll do just fine, take things one step at a time. Are you doing
anything with transistors yet?"
"Yes, but they are very expensive."
"Ask Margaret to order say, ten or a dozen from Mullard, I've already spoken
to her about using them. They will reduce the size of the units which will be a
terrific advantage when they have to be carried around."
Adam's enthusiasm started to surface again. "You can now show me the
projects you're working on."
"You haven't asked me about my passing grades?"
"I don't need to know. As I've just said a minute ago I think you'll do fine."
Will found it difficult to get away as they moved from one subject to another,
but was beginning to see the possible advantage he could gain by having him
around. Adam was completely dedicated and whenever projects were envisaged,
he would handle the majority of the work, which was going to be beneficial.
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Over the next month the surveillance equipment modification got underway.
Adam became a perfect go-between with regard to technical matters, making it
unnecessary for him to see Tony or Margaret. This welcome detachment was a
relief.
On occasions, he would get snippets of information about activities within the
group, inadvertently passed on by Adam. Because of the nature of Adam's
involvement, they could talk openly on the telephone and he could bring finished
equipment to Will's workshop at home, giving him more time with the family, than
he would otherwise have had.
The changes in the equipment were so basic that no challenges were involved
and Will began to wonder whether any form of imagination existed within the
group. Margaret was obviously just letting things happen on the technical front,
taking for granted that the equipment was in the forefront of technology. He had
no other choice but to make contact with her to discuss what was going on.
Since first meeting with Margaret he had never bothered to find out anything
about her, and all channels of communication were of her own making. Other than
the hideaway, he knew she had an apartment in the city near her father, but that
was all.
He had made arrangements for Adam to bring over some equipment for
approval before being passed on. It was late in the night when they were wrapping
things up.
"Where did Margaret first interview you Adam?"
"At the agency in Little Collins Street in the city, you know the one."
"At the south end?"
"No, in the arcade of offices next to the tourist bureau. They are at the far end
before you emerge into Little Collins Street."
Will was fearful of asking any more questions in case it provoked an adverse
response. "Oh yes, I know the one, it's been ages since I was there. I thought they
had vacated."
"I can't see that happening, there's always plenty of work for Import/Export.
I think it's money for old rope."
"There's no doubt about that."
It had been so easy to get the information, partially extracted and partially
proffered. He would go tomorrow before Adam had any chance of further contact
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with Margaret.
Arriving at the company workshops early, it was his intention to be at
Margaret's office around 9 a.m. Leaving his service vehicle in the company garage
around 8.45 a.m. he took the short walk to the top of Collins Street.
The office was easy to find and he waited until 9.10 a.m. anticipating that by
then everyone would have arrived. Stepping into the outer office he was striving
to come up with an approach because he didn't know Margaret's surname. It was
given to him on a platter.
The girl sitting at the reception desk was on the phone but next to her was a
notice which read "Colonial Import/Export Agency, Margaret Collins Proprietor."
The girl put down the phone but before she had time to speak the door behind her
opened and Margaret stepped out.
For the very first time he witnessed a rare reaction. She looked completely
shocked, and for a second or two was obviously floundering with what to do next.
Turning on her heel she disappeared back into her office.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like to see Margaret Collins if it's convenient."
"Have you an appointment?"
"No, but if you let her know I'm here I think she'll see me. I won't take up
much of her time."
She pressed the buzzer and picked up the phone. "Who shall I say is calling?"
"Will Brenner."
Will looked around whilst he was waiting. The office was extremely well
appointed and his mind once again wandered into the realms of working for the
organization. All he had to do was suggest to her that he could act as her technical
manager, or similar title, and she would jump at the chance. He had gone over this
line of thinking a dozen times before and always came to the same conclusion. The
door opened, breaking his line of thought.
Margaret was standing there now completely composed. She was dressed in
business attire, a tailored blue jacket with lapel's and knee high skirt of the same
material. A white blouse under the jacket terminated in ruffles around her neck.
For a moment he was taken off guard. This looked an entirely different woman that
he had become used to meeting.
She beckoned him into her office and then into one behind that, which was as
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quiet as a tomb and probably used to get out of earshot of the reception.
"What are you trying to do to me Will Brenner! How did you find out where
I worked?" Will looked across to where she was sitting.
"You are a different woman in this setting aren't you? I'll have to watch my p's
and q's."
"You haven't answered my question."
"Well I'm trying to do something for you, not against you, and you must know
that there are many ways of finding out about your activities. When I did this to Ed
he had a concealed gun at the ready. Where's yours?"
Margaret burst out laughing, the initial tension had been released and she was
back to her old controlled self again. "It was a shock seeing you. You were the last
person I expected. I'm sorry I sounded a bit hard, have you got something to tell
me? Is Adam not satisfactory?"
"No, to the contrary he's fine, and very intelligent technically. But you're
making a mistake not getting involved."
"I don't understand. I know nothing about electronics!"
"You'd be at a disadvantage if you did."
"I still don't understand."
"There's no one guiding him into the future, he's only working on demand.
There will be a time in the future when he'll come to the realization that he's going
over the same old ground and he'll object. Not directly, but in a way that won't be
very productive for you."
"Go on."
"The people in your team that use the surveillance equipment seem to have
wood for brains. What's being asked in the way of upgrades is devoid of
innovation."
"How can we possibly overcome that?"
"If you don't institute something now, in a couple of years you'll be so far
behind, it will be as though you were in the dark ages. Ask Adam to search
constantly through all the electronic papers and magazines, looking for both circuits
and devices that will keep improving what you've got. Ask him to get any relevant
data that he finds, into some form of order, and meet him yourself, at least once
a month, and go over it with him. If anything positive comes out, get him to talk to
me about it. After a few sessions, believe me, you'll start to get a good
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understanding of what's going on and what's needed. My final comment is this."
"It will be disastrous to leave Adam under Tony's supervision for even one
more week. He's a go-getter, extremely enthusiastic, and needs someone with
vision behind him. I will always give him support. I like him, but I can't take on a
role as a member of the organization, there will always be that barrier." Will could
see by the look in her eyes that she was evaluating what he had told her.
"You must think we are primitive."
"No. The electronics field is new to you but it's moving ahead so fast that all
of us are having a job to keep up with it. If you continue to help me I'll always let
you know when there are danger signals flashing."
Will left to go back to work. Getting a late start meant the possibility of not
arriving home to see the children before they were put to bed. He would shift into
high gear in an effort not to let that happen.
During the week he was asked once again to go out to a special job. The
owner and chairman of the company had a prestigious residence in Toorak. He
was to check over all the audio visual equipment. The large house standing in it's
own grounds was surrounded on all sides by a high brick wall.
He was met at the door by Mrs. Byer, the chairman's wife, and she escorted
him through to the rear of the house and into a study where the upper sections of
the walls were lined with books, and the lower level with oak cupboards and
drawers. It was the biggest study Will had ever seen, much larger even than the
one in the Governor's mansion.
At one end were two wide oak doors that opened into an auditorium with
seating for about one hundred people, curtains covering the end wall pulled back
to reveal a movie screen. He was left alone to get on with his work. Before very
long he began to realize that the job was going to be an extensive one.
Individual units of electronics were housed in the oddest of places, and he
finally came to the conclusion that he would spend this first visit locating the various
pieces of equipment. After determining their function, he would then call back the
following day to do some extensive testing.
The house was a rambling expanse and it took Will quite a while to find Mrs.
Byer and let her know of his intention. It brought a response that took Will's breath
away.
"It has to be functioning one hundred per cent for next Monday evening." she
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said. "My husband has been on a tour of communist China and Russia and has
movie film, slides, and tapes, to show a group of fifty politicians. They will all be
here on Monday evening, will it be alright for then?"
"I can assure you that it will be, and I'll come back on Monday afternoon to
make certain that everything is in order."
"I'd be most grateful if you could. My husband is so busy he has left it up to
me to see that everything is in order, including the catering."
Will walked back to the study in a daze and he sat on one of the equipment
cases looking around, not quite knowing what to think. Very few people gained
permission to travel behind the Iron Curtain to Russia and China's doors were
clamped shut, consequently, any information coming out of either country was
highly classified. This information was red hot and every individual piece would no
doubt be scrutinized by Australian Intelligence.
What if he ignored it and the organization found out? It would destroy any
goodwill he had built up over recent years and perhaps leave his family open, he
couldn't avoid telling Margaret, and no later than this evening. Today was
Wednesday and discounting the weekend there were only two days left, and
possibly Monday - which might be leaving things late.
Will took a quick look around the area of the house adjacent to the study.
There was only one approach and that was through the living-room. An additional
door at the far end of the theatre was used as a fire exit, opening it led him out into
the garden, but it could not be opened from the outside. The perimeter wall was
about fifty feet away. In the study itself, a single door next to the theatre entrance,
opened into a small projection room.
For the remainder of the day he wrestled with the possibility that the
organization may not be interested in this particular type of information, but deep
down he knew otherwise, and there was no way he could avoid getting involved.
Knowing that he would be very late home he had called in to see Dorothy to let
her know. It was rare for him not to be there before the children were put to bed,
so it would be of little consequence, on this one occasion.
At 8 p.m. Will pulled into the darkness of Margaret's drive, shifting the vehicle
into low gear to cope with the steep climb up to the house. He was fearful that she
might not be there but as the house started to appear roof first, and then the
windows, he could see lights showing from the living-room. They were then
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abruptly extinguished. He stopped immediately, some distance from the house, and
switched off his lights.
This was something he had not expected and he sat looking out into the dark
surroundings, wondering what to do next. Perhaps she was being cautious, or
there might be a more ominous reason. Snapping open the dome cover of the
interior light he removed the bulb and got out of the car, closing the door quietly
behind him.
He could see the dim outline of Margaret's car and he walked slowly towards
it feeling very exposed, even in the darkness. The tensions were rapidly rising and
he was thinking of all the bad things that could likely happen in the next few
minutes. Standing at the bottom of the stairway he suppressed the urge to call out.
There was no other way in, the rear of the house was only accessible via the steep
sides of the hill which would be formidable even in daylight.
He slowly started up the open stairway, one step at a time, pausing at the mid
level landing to listen for sounds from above, but there was only silence, so he
proceeded on up the second flight to the entrance door. As usual, it was partly
open, and it creaked in response to a push, but other sounds pierced the air. The
sharp clicking of gun hammers being drawn back.
Will hit the floor falling partly backwards on to the stairway as the lights burst
into life, and he sat on the top step looking through the doorway across the room.
Margaret was standing there next to the light switch, pointing a double-barrelled
12 gauge shotgun at him. He couldn't describe the look on her face. It was a
mixture of fear and disbelief. She lowered the gun and released the hammers.
"I'm sorry Will, I wasn't expecting you. Why didn't you phone me?" She
returned the gun to the bedroom and sat down in one of the lounge chairs. Will's
heart was still pounding as though he had just completed a one hundred yard dash.
Margaret must have been feeling the same and they both sat without speaking,
waiting for the sensation to subside.
"You were too early with the lights, and you should have had the hammers
already cocked. Had there been more than one person, you would have been in
trouble!"
"I'm not used to this sort of activity. By the time the door flew open I was
scared out of my wits!"
"What's happening with you Margaret, are you involved with the type of
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people that would cause you to react this way?"
"No. I started to take precautions after Dan appeared that night."
The whole incident had overshadowed his reason for being here in the first
place and placed him in no mood for discussing what had occurred earlier in the
day. It was as if Margaret was reading his mind.
"Your reason for being here must be urgent otherwise you would have phoned,
add to that the fact that you're here late in the evening when you could be with
your family is another indication."
"Dorothy knows I'll be late, but if she knew I was alone with another woman
in a secret hideaway she would use more than a shotgun on me!"
Margaret laughed. "Your conscience is still bothering you then?"
"Yes, it always will."
He was now beginning to feel more relaxed and thinking of how to start. The
problems of purposely leaving information out, in an endeavour to offset any
trouble he may encounter, were uppermost in his mind. But he concluded that it
would eventually resurface with devastating effect, prompting him to start from the
beginning and relate everything that had happened.
Margaret's eyes opened wider with every sentence. He could see that she was
having difficulty containing her excitement. She got up and walked towards the
kitchen and then turned. "Do you realize that you are probably the only person in
Australia outside the small group of politicians that will be involved, that's privy to
this information?"
"I'm not privy to any information other than the fact that there is to be a
gathering of people and a talk. It may turn out to be only just that." Will was trying
to put a negative emphasis on the discovery, hoping to lessen the intensity of
interest. He would have to fight every inch of the way to keep his involvement in
this affair to a low-key.
"You know as well as I do Will that the content of those tapes, slides and film
will be classified. We can't do anything about the film, but the tapes and slides will
have to be copied." Will could feel the noose tightening around his neck, but he
was looking for any excuse to offer up resistance.
"There's got to be at least two hours of slides and synchronized taped
conversations, plus commentary on the night. Without specialized equipment it
would be a mammoth task, practically impossible!"
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"Just tell me what you want and I'll get it, the possibility of getting hold of any
of this information will be paramount!"
"There's something I can't understand."
"What's that?"
"You say this information will be classified?"
"Yes."
"So Australian Government Intelligence will end up with it, or may already
have copies, so why can't you get hold of the information through government
channels?"
"It will initially be held at the highest level, and any inference that we know of
it's existence, will cause questions to be asked, and trouble for us. In any case,
we'd never get hold of it."
"With all that's being said, I can't see what value the information will be to you
anyway?"
Margaret noticably hesitated, her manner indicating that she was not prepared
to answer any further questions.
"You're beginning to ask me questions that I can't answer."
"Because you can't, or won't?"
"To be blunt, because I won't."
"It's only academic to me anyway, and would probably cause me more
problems, so I'd best forget about it."
"I think under the circumstances that would be a wise thing to do."
"I'll leave you to do what you have to then."
"No, I need to know what you'll be doing when you go back there."
"My intention is to take some test gear and thoroughly test the facility."
"What then?"
"Well, if it all tests okay I'll make one final check on Monday, before they get
started."
"Could you visit on Friday as well?"
"Yes, provided I had a good enough reason, but I can't concoct one. It must
be genuine and watertight, from an engineering point of view."
"I bet you could come up with something if you really tried."
"Perhaps, but why Friday?"
"We must have every bit of time available to us." She hesitated and Will was
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beginning to get the impression that her brain was now going into high gear in an
attempt to get as much as she could from the opportunity that had arisen. He
prepared himself for the next demand but when it came it made him gasp.
"If you're going to be there just prior to the assembly, couldn't you arrange to
stay on after it gets underway?"
She knew that she was pushing things to the limit, but for her the stakes were
obviously high enough, for Will however, it was the ultimate risk.
"I think you've conveniently ignored how much security there will be once
those politicians start to arrive. It would be a nightmare trying to move around, let
alone do any serious work without them breathing down your neck! Margaret was
staring into space appearing to disregard Will's last remark. "You have to admit
Margaret, that this business will take quite a bit of organizing."
"Yes you're right, I've been trying to sort it out in my mind, but there are too
many factors to pull together and there hasn't been enough time yet to think it out.
Let's settle on a couple of things shall we? Could we have a go at trying to devise
a way to be there on Monday night when they've all assembled, and before you
go tonight, tell me what equipment will be necessary."
"There's one piece of equipment that you haven't got. It will be essential."
"What's that?"
"It's called a high speed dubbing machine."
"Will Adam know what that is?"
"Yes, I would need it by tomorrow night or early Friday morning at the latest."
"Can you find out where all the information is stored when you go tomorrow
morning?"
"I'll try, but they may have it under lock and key, or even in the safe. My gut
feeling though is that it will be just lying around in a drawer."
"I hope you're right. By the way you'll need somebody with you, won't you?"
"Yes."
"What about Adam?"
"No, there's no one on your team that I could feel safe with."
"What about me?" Will looked at her long and hard. She had a questioning
look on her face. "Are you going to reject me too?"
"What could you do?"
"I'm an expert photographer, I could copy all the slides, but the movie film will
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be too difficult. We'll have to forget that."
"Could I rely on you not to panic if things turn bad?"
"Don't treat me like a rookie Will, it doesn't become you."
"I'm sorry Margaret, you're no doubt an expert, but there's no way I could
arrange to get you in. Adam maybe, but not you."
"Leave that up to me, I'll find a way."
Will had talked enough. Basically, he knew what had to be done but he didn't
want any part of it. The complexities worried him, even simple solutions had the
habit of backfiring. He was rejecting the thought of being involved and just wanted
to get out into the fresh air and back home. Walking towards the door he was
aware of the tone in his voice, abrupt and callous. "I'm going home." Margaret
followed him down the stairs and across to his car.
"You're angry with me Will?"
"No, just with myself, you're not to blame."
"Is there something I can do?"
"No, it rests with me. I always get to the stage where I start thinking that this
time things will go drastically wrong."
Margaret moved closer to the car and bent down to look through the open
window. "I won't let that happen Will. Can I pick you up in Vermont tomorrow
evening at 7 o'clock?"
Will nodded and drove away, his mind in a turmoil. By the time he arrived
home it would be bedtime, thank heavens. His ability as a conversationalist would
have had a zero rating.
It was easy to qualify having to return to the residence in Toorak. The mere
fact that Mrs. Byer had expressed her desire to have the equipment in excellent
working order was enough for the manager. "Do whatever is necessary to see that
everything goes smoothly," he had said.
"It might be a good idea if I stayed during the evening, just in case."
"Whatever it takes. It would be embarrassing if the equipment faulted, the
other managers would never let me forget it."
Arriving early, he was let into the house by one of the cleaning women. He
could hear the vacuum cleaner start up as he made his own way to the study. The
lady of the house would be out for most of the morning he had been informed. He
couldn't believe his luck, but his activities would nevertheless still have to be
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confined to his work, in case questions were asked.
Opening up all the equipment drawers and cupboards he set up his test gear
in readiness to get started. It would only take fifteen minutes or so, thirty at the
most to run the tests, assuming no problems. Everything had to look normal, so it
was essential that he left after that time span.
It was his policy always to leave doors open in the areas where he was
working, and he could faintly hear the hum of the vacuum way over on the other
side of the house. Now was the time to find the tapes and slides. The conditions
could not be better, but that did not prevent a feeling of anxiety from creeping over
him.
A quick look in all the cupboards and drawers revealed nothing, and the
thought of having to look elsewhere in the house temporarily pressed his panic
button. The fact that time was slipping by was ever present, but he kept telling
himself over and over again to slow down, and start to think logically.
These were private tapes taken by a business man, they've got to be around
here somewhere! He scanned the whole room again to check that he had not
missed a drawer or cupboard and the only place left was the projection room. It
was natural to only think in terms of film in such a room - but just maybe?
The door opened outwards. Had it been otherwise, it would have been
impossible to get inside, the room was so small. Only enough space for two men
to stand, one on each side of the projector, which was mounted on a bench top
with drawers below. No room existed for cupboards on the walls.
The two top drawers contained everything he was looking for and his heart
rate doubled. Even though he had a perfect right to be in there, his ulterior motive
compelled him to go back to the study door to listen for activity in the near vicinity.
But there was nothing.
Returning with a notepad he jotted down the inscriptions on the individual
pieces, and after a cursory glance around at the projection equipment, he left and
closed the door behind him. Switching on the test tapes he filled the study and
auditorium with music and sat down to wait for his pulse rate to return to normal.
After the customary time period had elapsed, Will packed up his gear, and finding
the cleaning lady, left a message to the effect that he would call again tomorrow.
Concentrating on his other work during the course of the day proved to be
exasperating, invariably leading him into error and costing him valuable time. When
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he did eventually arrive home there was precious time left before his meeting with
Margaret. Fortunately, he had already told Dorothy that the next few days were
going to be chaotic and the reasons why, but not the full story of course.
Margaret was walking up and down in front of the General Store as he
approached out of breath from running up the hill. "Thank heavens you've arrived,
I was beginning to think the worst!"
"I've had such a bad day, I got home late." They both got into the car.
"You're not in trouble with regard to getting the information are you?"
"No, that was easy." Will passed her the pad with the tape and slide inventory
written on it. She breathed an audible sigh of relief.
"Would you mind driving while I read it?"
During the drive to the city her conversation was spirited, especially after she
had read the notes. She had obviously been planning and organizing for the
forthcoming event and it was still theory to her, for Will it was different. He was
already in the thick of it, waiting for the first thing to go wrong!
"Was it difficult finding the tapes?"
"It's always difficult, but the worst is to come."
"Oh! and when will that be?"
"When all those politicians assemble. Security will be everywhere."
"You've managed to arrange to be there on the night then?"
"Yes."
"That's marvellous! I suppose you have your own ideas about how we should
proceed?"
"Yes, but I'll wait until I've heard what you've come up with first, before I say
anything. Incidentally, do your counterparts in Sydney know what's going on?"
"No, and there's only you and I that know all the details. Tony has helped me
with certain facets and Adam only the procurement of equipment."
Tony and Adam were waiting at the door when they arrived, and everyone
retired to the seclusion of the inner office. Adam, as enthusiastic as ever, was
opening up a small suitcase that he had been carrying, eager to display it's
contents. Will picked up the high speed dubber turning it over to inspect it.
"This is excellent, a fine piece of equipment, exactly what's required, you're to
be commended." Adam's face lit up and after a minute or two of technical
discussion his job was finished and he left.
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Margaret turned to Tony. "Have you got what I asked for?"
He produced some papers from his briefcase. "You'll find it all there."
"These are originals, there's no copies?"
"No copies."
"I'll see you here at 9 a.m. in the morning."
Tony picked up his briefcase. "Best of luck Will, I'll probably see you
afterwards."
"Not if I can help it," brought on a chuckle as he left the room.
"Tell me Margaret, why have you brought me all the way to the city to do
something that we could have done in the car, back in Vermont?"
"We're not finished yet." She sat behind her desk and proceeded to read out
loud from the papers given to her by Tony. In essence, it sounded like a flow
chart he would use in his electronics work, a progressive series of events. After
expanding into details she eventually turned to Will for his comments. "Well, what
do you think?"
Will thought for a moment before answering, Margaret's face took on a look
of anticipation. Walking over to the desk Will picked up the papers and looked
directly into her eyes. "It's time to be blunt, we do have an agreement to be frank
with each other?" Reaching over he dropped them in the waste paper basket.
"What the hell do you think you're doing Will Brenner?" Her eyes were
blazing.
"You always call me Will when you want something, and Will Brenner when
you're angry."
"Okay then, what the hell do you think you're doing Will?"
Will laughed, her counter comments amused him. "That's more like it."
They both laughed, the anxiety of the moment defused, Will pointed to the
waste basket. "That's Tony's work and it's too complex, to be workable it's got
to be simple."
Margaret came out from behind her desk and sat on one of the chairs
opposite. "I must get my hands on that information, we can't fail."
"We are the ones that have to see the job through. Forget Tony's plan, it will
only take ten minutes to sort it out between ourselves, there's little or no detail
necessary. I copy the tapes, you the slides. Do you have the photographic gear?"
"Yes, it's miniature."
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"It has to be done tomorrow afternoon."
Margaret gasped. "Not Monday?"
"No, security may be everywhere by then, and if you want the commentary
taped as it's being delivered, that in itself could turn out to be tricky." She now had
a blank look on her face probably trying to come to terms with the fact that they
had very little time to prepare for the next day.
"What's it like to be on the receiving end for a change?"
"Intimidating, but your point is irrefutable so I'll go through with it. There's
coffee in the outer office, you can make it yourself. I can assure you it's a good
brand."
Will smiled and left, leaving Margaret mulling things over in her mind. When
he returned she hadn't moved and she looked serious.
"Are you getting that scared feeling?"
"Yes."
"Join the club. It's always present when developments advance to the critical
stage."
"How do you cope?"
"I don't. I just keep telling myself to watch out for the unexpected, something
you hadn't accounted for. If it doesn't come it's a bonus, if it does, then at least
you're partially prepared."
"Shall we discuss Monday night?"
"No, the more we talk the worse it will look. You'll be there tomorrow
afternoon?"
"Yes."
Will continued to sip his coffee. "Have you found yourself a boyfriend yet?"
"You don't beat about the bush, do you?"
"No. Have you or haven't you?"
"No I haven't, I can't get involved with anyone whilst I'm in this type of work."
"I suppose you supply couriers for the government from this office. I bet they
don't know what else you get up to."
"You're full of questions aren't you? Yes, I do supply couriers, and no, they
don't know of my other activities. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
By the time they arrived back in Vermont it was late, but not too late. Before
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going to bed Will secreted the tape dubber in one of his equipment boxes. It was
in the lap of the gods what would happen on the following day.
He got away from the depot early and set about his work without delay,
determined to be at the house in Toorak during the early afternoon. Mrs. Byer let
him in.
"Thank you for passing my name to your friend Margaret, she'll be calling
soon. I still haven't finalized the catering yet for Monday evening, but from the
conversation I had with her on the phone I think she'll be just the person to sort the
problem out for me."
Will swallowed hard, Margaret had wasted no time. "I'm sure she can, they've
been catering for government functions for a long time now."
He increased his pace as he headed for the study and setting up the Hi-Fi
amplifier once again filled the rooms with music, then cramming himself into the
projection room he flipped the latch and commenced to copy the tapes. Their
journey through the record heads seemed to take forever, but it was only minutes
before it was all over. After a quick check to see that the copy had been
successful, he put the tapes back into the drawer and returned to the study.
At least now he could partially relax, spending the time waiting for Margaret,
checking out the best place to record the commentary on Monday night. The
monitoring circuit in the projection room was an ideal point to tap in the miniature
wire recorder. His hands trembled at the thought of the classified copies of the
tapes on the dubbing machine making his efforts clumsy and amateur. To the
uninitiated it was just another recorder, but that explanation gave him little
consolation.
Margaret suddenly appeared with Mrs. Byer. She was carrying a small
briefcase and dressed to kill, the quintessence of an efficient business woman. "I'll
see that everyone is here two hours before the gathering to set up, leave it up to
me. All our staff are vetted and reliable."
Mrs. Byer nodded her head in agreement. "I'll leave you with Mr. Brenner,
you'll probably want a word with him before you go."
"Thank you, yes. I'll call in and see you before I leave."
As Mrs. Byer disappeared into the living-room Will looked across at
Margaret. Her composure had noticeably slipped, and a terrified look came over
her face. Grabbing her by the arm, he led her into the projection room and took
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out the box of slides, putting them on the bench. Her eyes were transfixed on the
box but she was standing like a stone statue. Will squeezed her arm and she
looked up at him. "Just pretend that you've come back off holiday and you're
looking through your slides. I'll be outside should anyone appear." She smiled
nervously as he closed the door.
The waiting game had started and minutes seemed like hours. The music was
still playing, and Will was just beginning to wonder how long it would be before
Margaret stepped back through the projection room door, when suddenly Mrs.
Byer appeared in the study doorway.
She glanced around the room. "Has Margaret gone?"
"You have just missed her. She must be looking around the house for you, or
perhaps she's in the garden."
Within seconds of her leaving Margaret emerged from the projection room.
She looked ashen faced.
"Mrs. Byer's been looking for you." Taking her by the hand he led her to the
exit door in the auditorium and let her out into the garden. "Tell her you've been
looking for her in the garden, I'll see you tonight at the house."
Quickly closing the door behind her Will hurried to the projection room to
check that everything had been left in order, and breaking down his equipment
carried it to the main foyer.
"Did Margaret find you Mrs. Byer?"
"Yes, she thought I was in the garden."
"The service department have agreed that I best be here during the
proceedings on Monday, just in case you have a breakdown, so I'll come during
the early evening to pre-run everything."
"That's very kind of you. It will be a relief to know that we won't have to
worry."
It was now late afternoon and he had to get rid of both the tapes and the
dubbing machine at the earliest possible moment, but first he had to go home. Each
mile that passed progressively lifted the commotion that was going on inside him
and he was fairly composed as he sat down for a bite to eat. His mind though kept
flashing back to that projection room, instigating reoccurrences of stomach nerves.
Clutching the tapes after arriving at Margaret's he ran up the two flights of
stairs, eager to find out whether she had been successful or otherwise. At first, Will
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thought the worst, she didn't seem very happy. "Is there something wrong, did you
fail to get good copies of the slides?"
"The slides are fine."
"Then why the long face?"
"I let you down."
"I'm having trouble understanding this line of talk. Shall we start over again?"
"I froze up, my mind went blank in the projection room."
"Did you complete the job?"
"Yes."
"Are you happy with the results?"
"Yes."
"Then it's time to celebrate. What happened back there happens to everyone
at some time or another. You see we pump ourselves up to a peak in readiness for
the event, and then suddenly, when we're on our own, the confidence plummets."
"Is that a fact?"
"Yes, so bring out the champagne."
The whole atmosphere changed and she was her old self again. "Sorry, there's
no champagne, but guess what? I brought the coffee percolator from the office!"
"Now that's what I call positive thinking."
During the course of the weekend Will collected the mini recorder from Adam
in preparation for Monday evening. There would be lots more activity, and to
some extent, the necessity to play things by ear, from one minute to the next, as
circumstances dictated. Before leaving on the Monday morning he told Dorothy
where he would be and not to expect him back until very late.
His day went extremely well and arriving on time he walked through the house
on his way to the study to find that his anticipations were well founded. He had
been met by security at the front door and people seemed to be everywhere.
Women waitresses were busy setting up the catering, and some politicians had
already arrived, partaking of drinks in the large living-room. There was no sign of
Margaret.
He was carrying a small suitcase containing instruments and hand tools, but the
recorder was in his pocket. The telemetry unit to remotely set the recorder in
motion was disguised amongst the instruments and the start button located under
the carrying handle. Adam had done a superb job getting it all set up. All that
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remained was for it to perform, and the thought of it caused him to momentarily
cross his fingers.
The study was deserted and Will's anxieties halved, but rose again hearing a
noise coming from the projection room. Opening the door Mr. Byer was obviously
getting set up to do the commentary from there. This was something he had not
anticipated, thinking he would be out in the auditorium during the event.
"You're Brenner?"
"Yes Mr. Byer."
"My wife told me that you would be here in case we had trouble."
"Is everything functioning?"
"Yes, you've done a good job, thank you."
Will backed out into the study and closed the projection room door. He
pictured the temporary connector he had fitted down below in the projector
cabinet. There seemed no way that he would have the opportunity to attach the
recorder. Mr. Byer would probably slip away to see his guests before starting, but
it would be too risky without a genuine reason for being in the room should he get
caught.
He looked at his watch discovering that he still had a good thirty minutes
before the show started. Margaret suddenly appeared, dressed like a model again,
and he felt like a hobo standing next to her. She beckoned him into a small anteroom
that was deserted and closed the door.
"Is everything set up?"
"No, we have a problem." Her face fell.
"What sort of problem?"
"The room's occupied by Mr. Byer. I can't get in to plant the recorder." Her
facial expression changed again, this time to one of panic.
"I've got to have that commentary, you'll have to do something and quick!"
The tone of her voice was demanding and Will didn't like it.
Taking the recorder from his pocket he thrust it towards her. "If you want it
so badly, you do it!" She recoiled, realizing that she'd done the wrong thing.
"I'm sorry Will, the pressure is getting to me again, I know you'll do your best.
Can I be of any help?"
"No you can't, but I'll find a way. Be up at your house afterwards." She
nodded and left the room.
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Mr. Byer was still in the projection room, and the available time left to plant
the recorder was getting critical. Some of the politicians were already seated in the
auditorium. He stood gripping the mini recorder in his pocket so tightly, that he had
to force himself to relax, thinking the pressure could crack the case. The loud
speaker sprang to life. It was Mr. Byer testing the microphone in preparation for
starting the commentary. Only five minutes remained and he had no other choice
but to enact a last resort.
Opening one of the equipment drawers he took out his wire cutters and cut the
supply to the amplifier in the projection room. Mr. Byer's voice fell dead in the
middle of his sentence. He could hear him frantically tapping the microphone to try
and get it started again.
Quickly retiring back to the small ante-room he waited for the panic stations
to begin and he didn't have to wait long. Raised voices could be heard in the
corridor outside, calling out his name. Stepping out, the first person he saw was
Margaret.
"Thank God you're here Will, the sound has gone dead in the auditorium and
everybody's getting frantic!"
Will stood for a second savouring the moment and then couldn't help but let
a broad grin appear on his face. "Well, fancy that happening!"
Margaret's mouth fell open. "You crafty devil, you've engineered it!"
Will headed for the projection room leaving her with a look of amazement on
her face. Mr. Byer was frantically pulling and pushing every plug in sight.
"What's wrong Brenner, everything's gone dead!"
"Might I suggest that you go and see your guests in the auditorium and tell them
that you're nearly ready to start. By the time you've done that I'll probably have
things fixed."
The instant he had left the room Will dropped to his knees and attached the
recorder, switching it on manually, there would be no need for the transmitter. He
was back in the study splicing the cut wires when Mr. Byer returned. "Is the news
good or bad?"
"It's all good Mr. Byer. I've effected a temporary repair, but after you've
finished in the projection room later, I'll have to do a permanent job before I
leave." This would give him an excuse for being there later, to retrieve the
recorder.
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With a look of relief on his face Mr Byer rushed back into the projection
room. The auditorium doors closed and the commentary started. Walking back
to the dining-room area Will stood just inside the doorway, watching as the
caterer's were putting the final touches to the buffet. Margaret was bending over
one of the tables.
She looked across the room at Will, an enquiring look on her face. He nodded
once and Margaret removed a small handkerchief from her jacket and proceeded
to mop her brow with it, acting out a motion of relief. It was now only a matter of
waiting until he could pick up the recorder later.
During the drive back to Margaret's place he had plenty of time to reflect on
the happenings of the last few days. Apart from the excitement, prior to the show
getting started that evening, everything else had gone without incident. But what
could arise now that the information had been gathered? If ever it was leaked out
and traced back to him, he would be in severe trouble, so would Margaret,
consequently, she would have to handle the information with kid gloves. This line
of thinking sent a shiver down his spine.
She had arrived back and changed into more casual clothes. Will passed over
the recorder. "It was a close call tonight Will."
"It's always a close call. Every minute is a close call when you're waiting for
something adverse to happen."
"I know that only too well now."
"You'll keep a tight rein on that information won't you? I don't want to find
myself in trouble later on."
"I can assure you that won't happen, I wouldn't want to be implicated either."
"Now that it's over and you've got what you want, perhaps you can leave me
alone for awhile."
"It all depends, but I won't bother you unless it's urgent." Will knew that he
could now rely on her and he left it at that.
At 2 a.m. he crept quietly into the house via the back kitchen door, stopping
by to see Mark and Louise before going to bed. He looked down at them fast
asleep. The whole weight of what he was doing became painfully evident. He
knew that when the organization were placing demands, they were not getting his
full attention.
Totally exhausted mentally, he slipped into bed hoping beyond all his dreams
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that he could be blessed with a period of normality.
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Chapter 13
The Safe Cracker
Margaret was essentially true to her word, only calling on Will with matters she
regarded as urgent. The focus of the work as time progressed however, changed
for the worst. Adam became more proficient with the electronics, but instead of
a gradual detachment occurring as Will had anticipated, he was getting more
involved in extracting information from places and people in situations that could
only be described as difficult, and sometimes downright dangerous.
All the equipment necessary to do the work was supplied very efficiently by
Adam, and for this very reason Will was getting less respite from the organization
than he had enjoyed before the change of focus. There was very little he could do
except to stick to his policy of objecting whenever he could, and changing the
modus operandi to try and keep himself out of trouble, when a job got underway.
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Will had not heard from Bart since Ed was killed, but it was too naive to
assume that the Yugoslavs had given up their individual vendettas. They would be
passed down from one family member to another. The organization was still
refraining from putting any surveillance on them, much to Will's relief. Instead of
the narrow confines of the work during the early days associated with Ed, their
scope of subjects had gradually broadened out as the aftermath of World War 2
receded into the past.
Industrial espionage was now becoming more prevalent amongst some major
companies that were vying for government contracts, or just stealing the
technology, to circumvent the cost involved in developing similar products. All
companies had to go through the usual bureaucratic vetting channels to enable
them to tender, consequently, it was easy for Margaret to get their particulars on
to her files, and start looking into their activities. Where big money was at stake,
the larger companies would hire individuals to do their spying, and gradually, they
were becoming known to the organization.
Arranging his schedule for the day turned up a service call from Margaret. It
was duly marked "last call" Will would never get used to these unexpected
contacts, and his stomach muscles tightened, wondering what next lay in store for
him.
It had been teeming down with rain for most of the day as he drove up the
steep incline to Margaret's house. Water was cascading down the driveway,
splashing up on to the windshield as the car wheels dropped intermittently into the
ruts and potholes. Her chevrolet was parked in it's usual place, but a second car
which he didn't recognize was pulled across the front of the building. His heart
skipped a beat at the thought of meeting someone new, it was probably
coincidental that she had a visitor there.
Quickly running to the foot of the stairway to get out of the rain he stood for
a moment to catch his breath, and at the same time, try to quell the apprehension
that was rising inside. You're probably reading too much into the situation, he was
telling himself, but as if to counter the thought, a feeling of cautious anticipation was
creeping over him as he ascended the second flight leading to the living-room
door. Hesitating, he prepared to knock, but before he could do so it opened, and
Margaret greeted him.
"I thought it would be you Will, come in."
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Will stepped inside and looked directly across to the other side of the room
at a man seated on one of the dining-room chairs. He looked to be in his early
forties and of medium build, dressed in a dark shabby suit that had probably never
been cleaned. Shifting in his seat he turned in Will's direction. There was no sign
of movement on his face, it was completely deadpan and impossible to read. Their
eyes locked.
"Will, I'd like you to meet Alec Ford. Alec, this is Will Brenner."
The two men nodded simultaneously, but no words were spoken or
handshaking took place. It did not seem appropriate as no signals were being
received from either party to indicate the need. Alec's face was thin and weatherbeaten,
his eyes penetrating, and lips thin. The application of a crowbar would be
necessary to get anything out of this man.
Will moved to the other side of the dining-table and sat down opposite him.
For some unknown reason, even though there had been no interaction, he seemed
completely at ease with this individual. No adverse feelings like those he had
experienced when meeting the British agent, Derek Bates, at the apartment in St.
Kilda. Margaret had also sat down at the end of the table. With a third party
present he would have to be careful during the course of the conversation, limiting
it's contents to basics. Margaret looked across at Will.
"I've asked you to meet Alec because I want you both to do a job for me."
"Is he one of your agents?"
"Yes." The conversation continued between themselves, ignoring Alec's
presence.
"He knows of your particular expertise, but you may need his special talents."
"And what are those?"
Margaret looked across at Alec and his eyes fell to the floor. For a fleeting
moment Will got the impression that it might be a gesture of shyness, but he quickly
dispelled it from his mind. "He's an expert at opening things."
"What things?"
"Anything that's locked."
"He's a locksmith then?"
Margaret burst into laughter and Will thought for one moment that Alec was
going to smile - but it didn't happen.
"Okay, a safe cracker."
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"That's more like it."
The hilarity was over and Will waited for the inevitable lead in. "Your old
company Electronic Industries is involved in some sort of government classified
design work and we want to find out what it is. Do you think you could tap into
your contacts there, and try to get a lead?"
Will could feel Alec's penetrating eyes bearing down on him, waiting to
evaluate his response. Best not to elaborate.
"Yes I can, and if I get a lead, what then?"
"If the information is in electronic form you can retrieve it, alternatively, if it's
hard copy Alec can get it. Either way, you'll need Alec to get in and out of places."
"I'll have to refurbish some of my contacts. I haven't visited the factory for
some time now, so it could take awhile."
"How long do you think?"
"If I'm lucky I could have something within the month. You'll hear from me
when I get a lead, no matter how small."
Alec stood up and moved towards the door, he was taller than Will had first
thought and he was wearing the odd combination of white sneakers with his suit.
He turned around and spoke for the first time, his voice had a rasping sound like
a file being drawn over steel.
"You get me into the factory, show me the location and I'll do the rest."
With that parting remark Will watched his cat-like walk as he left the room,
closely followed by Margaret. Within a minute of his car starting up and it's engine
noise disappearing as it descended the steep driveway Margaret reappeared, a
broad smile on her face.
"I think he likes you."
"That's made my day! Where did you find him?"
"He's been with us for awhile now. As an ex con the work keeps him out of
prison."
"I can't see my image improving to be seen around town with him, but he
seems the quiet type."
"Yes, you'll find him easy to get along with, and he can be relied on, if the
going gets rough."
An initial round of visits to the various departments where he had contacts in
the factory did not produce any information regarding any classified work that may
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have been in progress. He did learn however, that Jack De Silva was still the
design director. An arrogant man, disliked by most, there could be no doubt that
he would be in charge of any classified work, consequently, his stupid arrogance
could make the retrieval of information easier.
His domain was located on the third floor and Will made his way up there. The
area was readily accessible without security clearance, which was a surprise, but
individual rooms were clearly marked with "no admittance" signs. There was plenty
of activity in the corridors with people moving between locations, but no one
questioned his presence, probably because he was wearing his white laboratory
coat, which fitted in with the apparel worn by the laboratory technicians. Turning
the corner at the end of the corridor confirmed the information he had been given.
Jack De Silva was standing waiting for the elevator, and at the same time,
reprimanding some poor individual, who had his head bowed. De Silva's loud
voice could be heard resounding through the corridors, giving due warning to
employee's, who were purposely avoiding the area. Quickly retreating to get out
of sight, Will headed back towards the exit stairway and was about to push open
the door when a voice called out from behind. "What are you doing here?" Will
froze. He had been complacent, not expecting to be caught off guard. "It's been
ages since I saw you last, Will Brenner!"
Will's tense body relaxed like a rubber band being released. George Nash
approached, smiling with outstretched hand. "Hello George! I thought you wanted
to become a TV cameraman?"
"Yes, but I opted to join Jack De Silva's team as a junior design engineer. Are
you back with the company?"
"No, I'm just visiting a couple of people that I used to work with, and thought
I'd look around to see what changes had taken place, but everything seems to be
about the same."
"I'm taking a half-hour break. Have you the time to come down to the staff
dining-room for a coffee and a chat?"
"Yes, you can bring me-up-to-date with what's been going on, since I left the
company."
As they descended the stairs to the ground floor, Will couldn't believe his luck.
George was totally technical. He had resistors, capacitors, and microchips
coursing through his veins, instead of blood. He would reveal every minute detail
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of the happenings in the design department. The matter of ultimate importance was
to find out where the records were kept.
Will listened as George laid out the whole history of the department. The
occasional word of praise and a prod to steer the conversation in the right
direction was enough to get into the areas of classified projects, and he was having
a job to keep up with the flood of information that was being proffered, without
any hesitation, on George's part.
"Do you remember Paul Beamish, Will?"
"Yes, he was a brilliant designer."
"Well, he's spearheading a new government project. It's top secret."
"That sounds really interesting, are you involved?"
"Only marginally."
"I bet they keep tabs on all the technical notes you write."
“Yes, all my notes are collected daily."
"The government boffins take control of those I suppose?"
"No, they are locked up in the safe next to Jack De Silva's office, you know
where I mean. At the back of the drawing department."
Will nearly fell off his chair at the shock of receiving the very information he
wanted, served to him on a platter. "I suppose they've got pretty sophisticated
electronic security in force, to protect all that valuable knowhow?"
"No, that stupid sod De Silva is so stubborn and wants everything his own
way, so it's in a standard Chubb safe. Paul Beamish has been trying to get him to
upgrade the security but he won't have it."
Will looked at his watch. "I'll have to get going George, give me your address
and phone number, I'll contact you."
George reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a card.
"Don't leave it too long this time will you?" Will shook his head as he left the
dining-room.
The street alongside the factory was practically deserted. It was a typical,
warm sunny Australia day, and he stood for awhile trying to wind down. Two
opposite forces were pulling him apart. The feeling of elation, having achieved
what he had come for, and the frightening thought he had experienced before,
concerning the possibility of his involvement being traced back, this time through
George. He was perfectly aware of what the consequences could be, and it was
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frightening.
There was one more task to perform before contacting Margaret. Larry
Cappel, the chief audio design engineer, held weekly meetings each Wednesday
evening at 7.30 p.m. A lecture and sound demonstration usually took place, with
a small buffet being served afterwards. A non-technical guest could be brought
along, so it was an ideal way to get Alec into the premises.
On the following Wednesday evening Will arrived early, and reacquainted
himself with some of the engineers that he already knew, as they all waited in the
small auditorium for the lecture to get underway. Within a short period of time he
began to feel at home, and sitting back, relaxed his way through a pleasant, but
predictable evening. He would have to keep up attendances there for quite a few
weeks, after the job had been completed, or until it felt safe to discontinue, but the
meetings were free and easy. Fresh faces would appear and existing ones fail to
turn up, so there was no need for concern. A meeting with Margaret was
arranged, but this time at her city office.
It was late evening when Will arrived and the main door was locked. Margaret
let him in and they made their way to the security of the back-room. Alec was
seated on one of the easy chairs, wearing the same scruffy suit and white sneakers.
He looked completely out of place amongst the neat, clean surroundings.
The two men stared and nodded as before and Will lowered himself into the
comfort of the chair opposite. There was no mistaking the look on Alec's face, it
was one of sheer anticipation. Wondering how he would react, Will decided to
hold off giving the information and engaged Margaret in general conversation.
After awhile she gathered what was happening and they watched as Alec
squirmed in his seat and the conversation got more boring. It was plain to see that
he was suffering, but he didn't utter a word. Margaret eventually let him off the
hook.
"Have you got something for us Will?"
"Yes."
Alec stopped moving and sitting on the edge of the chair leaned forward closer
to Will, his eyes staring.
Will spoke. "I know who's working on the project. I know where the work
is taking place. I know where all the documents are kept."
Alec sprang to his feet, his rasping voice taking Will by surprise. "Are the
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documents kept in a safe?"
"Yes."
"Do you know what type?"
"Yes, a Chubb. I think it's been there for years."
"That's brilliant, absolutely bloody brilliant!" His personality seemed to take
a 180 degree shift as he pranced backwards and forwards, a delighted look on his
face. Margaret's eyes were wide open, looking at him with disbelief. She turned
to Will.
"Can you get Alec in?" Alec abruptly sat down and adopted his previous
pose.
"Yes, there are lectures in a small auditorium on the ground floor every
Wednesday evening. I can take him in as a guest."
Alec jumped to his feet again appearing not to be able to contain himself. "It
even gets better!" he rasped and promptly sat down again.
No one spoke for awhile until Margaret broke the silence. "How soon can the
job be done?"
"The sooner the better, say next Wednesday. It may take two or more tries
to get what you want. The information is all hard copy, so it will be up to
yourselves to organize that."
"I'll see that Alec is equipped. Is there anything else?"
"Yes, there's just one snag."
Alec and Margaret turned, a more serious look on their faces. Will pointed to
Alec's feet. "I can't take him in wearing those white sneakers!"
Everyone, including Alec, burst into laughter and he moved over to Will. "I
think I'm going to enjoy this caper, let Margaret have the details and I'll see you
on the night." Within seconds he was gone leaving Will alone with Margaret.
"Why is it whenever I come to see you these days Alec's always around?"
"What do you mean?"
"I think there's something going on between you two!"
She laughed. "You're not going to catch me out this time Will Brenner! I'm
beginning to get used to your twisted sense of humour. Are you going to tell me
how you got the information?"
"No, but the situation is the same as it was with the Byer tapes. I didn't want
to compromise you in front of Alec, but unless I get an assurance that you won't
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use the information in such a way as to leave me wide open, I can't go forward
with the job."
"You've had to take a risk then?"
"Yes."
"Well, I gave you my promise then and you've had no repercussions have
you?"
"No."
"I can do the same in this case. Do we have a deal?"
She extended her hand and Will shook it. "Yes, we have a deal."
Margaret looked relieved. "Where do we go from here?"
"Just get Alec everything he needs and tell him to pick me up at the Vermont
junction at 6.30 p.m. next Wednesday evening. I'll be waiting."
The period up to Wednesday evening had it's usual devastating effect on Will's
nerves. His only relief was the concentration that his job demanded during the day.
At 6.30 p.m. on the night, Will turned into the service road at the junction to
see only one car parked there. Alec was nonchalantly leaning with his back against
the passenger door. It was a relief to see that he wasn't wearing his white
sneakers, as a matter of fact, he looked positively normal. The car was a brand
new sedan, no doubt supplied by the organization. They both got in and sat down,
Will looked across at Alec. "Do you know where we're headed?"
"Yes, is there anything I should know before we get there?"
"Yes, I'll tell you on the way."
They were soon speeding down the Maroondah highway towards the city.
Will settled back in his seat, once again experiencing no adverse feelings about
working with Alec.
"When we get there don't park in the parking lot, go to the side street next to
the factory. That way, if we are late getting out, we won't be the only car there,
with the risk of being observed."
"That's good thinking. Is there anything else?"
"Yes, I'll have to sign you in. Do you have a name that you use?"
Alec looked uncomfortable but eventually answered. "I sometimes call myself
Ralph Bowie."
"That will do. The worst will be sitting through the lecture, then afterwards they
serve coffee and sandwiches, etc. We only have about twenty minutes or so
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before everyone leaves and they lock the doors."
"Will that be enough time?"
"Maybe not, we may have to come back next week. When the lecture finishes
I'll take you up to the third floor. The door to the office has a standard key lock.
Then you'll have to tackle the Chubb."
"That will be no problem, you show me the documents and I'll copy them. But
about the lecture."
"What about the lecture?"
"They won't ask me any technical questions, will they?" He had a serious look
on his face. Will burst out laughing.
"No, it's not that sort of lecture, do just as I do. Quite a few people will be
bringing a guest and they won't all be technical people." Alec breathed a
noticeable sigh of relief.
The small auditorium was packed which was a godsend, making it easy to get
lost in the crowd. Alec wriggled from side to side on his chair throughout the
lecture. Will looked at his watch, it would soon be over, and his stomach muscles
started to tighten. The works police would be patrolling the floors and he didn't
know how often. He leaned over and whispered to Alec. "Get ready, it's nearly
over. If we get stopped by the works police, let me do the talking."
Alec's face took on a startled look. "You never told me about any police!"
Loud clapping, indicating the end of the lecture, cut the conversation, and after
a very short question period, some of the engineers moved into an adjacent room
for the refreshments but others started to leave. Grasping the opportunity, they left
the room with them but immediately outside, Will grabbed Alec by the arm and
steered him through a door, into the stairwell.
The hollow sounds of their footsteps as they made their way upwards, echoed
around the walls, starting Will's heart pounding in his chest. He looked around at
Alec but he didn't seem perturbed, or in any hurry. The fact didn't subdue the
tension, but knowing that he had no need to look after his welfare, ironically
seemed a relief.
Looking through the glass window in the door, to the third floor, he waited for
Alec to catch up. Once in the corridor, it was only a short distance to the office
door, the ceiling was acoustically tiled and they were walking on lino, muting the
sound of their footsteps.
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Will tried the door knob, the door was locked. He stepped aside for Alec to
gain access, but before he had time to consider any further moves a sharp click
pierced the silence and Alec opened the door. It had only been seconds, how did
he do it? Locking the door behind them they moved to the rear of the office to
locate the safe.
It was standing by the far wall in a small ante-room, its large old-fashioned
bulbous countenance domineering the scene. Alec sat down on a chair giving him
a full view of the safe. He had a star struck look on his face that could only be
likened to a trance. Will waited, but he didn't seem to want to move. "What the
hell's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's been ages since I've seen a safe as old as this one. I think it
would open if you bumped against it!"
"Well start bumping, the sooner I'm out of here the better."
Alec removed a fine silk glove from his pocket and slipped it on. "Sit down
Will, I'll only be a minute."
Will sat listening to the click of the tumblers as Alec rotated the knob. Within
a dozen rotations he gripped the lever on the giant door and it opened, revealing
the contents. Alec sat down. "It's your turn now Will."
Expecting to see the shelves stacked with folders, which would have been a
marathon job to sort out, he was confronted with only a few document boxes, no
more than ten in all. One box was clearly marked "classified."
Jack De Silva was more stupid than he could ever have imagined. It was as
though he was just asking for them to be stolen. Flipping through the sheets
revealed circuit diagrams and technical descriptions relating to the project, referred
to by George Nash.
Alec proceeded to photograph the contents from under his coat that he was
using like a tent. Every flash of the camera triggered Will's nerves to uncontrollable
heights. The period between the flashes was a fearful silence, his eyes constantly
focused on the door waiting for activity from outside, indicating that they had been
discovered. The whole sequence was a nightmare. Alec reappeared from under
his coat and proceeded to put it back on, as Will returned the box to the safe.
The dull thud of the heavy door closing sent a final shock into his nervous
system before making their way through the office desks and out into the corridor,
finally locking the door behind them. It was Will's only desire to get as much
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distance between them and the office, in the shortest possible time.
He had been watching Alec throughout and his demeanour had been
comparable to that of going on a Sunday afternoon picnic. Margaret's description
of him was on the ball. There could be no expectation of panic from this man.
Entering the stairwell Will began to feel better, but as they approached the
second floor landing he could hear someone coming up from the first floor. His
heart skipped a beat but without speaking he opened the door to the corridor and
pushed Alec through. The first inclination was to run towards the rear of the
building but the corridor continued, seemingly as far as the eye could see, so with
a superhuman effort he controlled the thought.
The old self closing door rattled it's way mechanically to the closed position
signalling their presence, and they had only travelled a few yards before it opened
again and a voice called out. "What are you gentlemen doing up here?"
Will felt his skin tighten with apprehension. He turned to see a work's
policeman. He could feel Alec staring at him.
"Well I'm damned, it's Will Brenner!"
Will practically collapsed with relief. It was Charlie Masters, one of the
policemen that had been involved when the long playing records were being stolen.
"Are you back working with us?"
"No Charlie, I've just attended one of Larry Cappel's lectures and I thought
I'd show my friend the office where I used to work and then grab a bite to eat
before we leave."
Charlie looked at his watch. "You'd better hurry, they'll soon be winding up
down there and I'll be seeing that everyone is off the premises."
There were only a half dozen people left in the buffet-room and Alec tucked
in with the gusto of a man who hadn't eaten in a decade. Ten minutes later Charlie
came back down and ushered everyone out through the front door. Within
seconds of the door closing behind them and the sound of a key turning in the lock,
they were walking alone, back to the parked car.
"That was a stroke of genius getting us out of trouble back there Will."
"No Alec, we were just lucky."
There was no conversation on the drive home but Will relived the evening
many times before arriving in Vermont.
"Could you call in and see Margaret on Friday evening? She will have had
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sufficient time to evaluate the information by then. By the way, everything went
first-class tonight, would you consider working with me in the future?"
Will smiled. "You know I'm not a member of the organization so the answer
has to be "no."
"Pity, the other blokes she's got working for her are in the main part unreliable.
At the first sign of trouble they're off like a shot!"
"Yes I know, I won't work with them either. Did you know Ed Blake?"
"Yes, he visited me in prison and paved the way for me to work for them when
I got out. He was good to me, it was unfortunate that he got killed in an accident."
"Who told you that?"
"One of the agents."
"I thought so, that's what they want you to believe."
"What do you mean?"
"It tantamounts to what you've just said about them. He was on a dangerous
surveillance job and they didn't cover him. If they had done their job properly, Ed
would be alive today."
"Thanks for telling me that Will, I know exactly where I stand now. I'll keep
away from them when there's a risk involved, like tonight for instance." Will got
out of the car, he had only the few minutes walk to the house to pull himself
together and try to put the events of the evening behind him, but he knew it would
be impossible.
The following Friday evening he called on Margaret, as arranged. She was on
her own.
"Where's your boy friend?"
"What boy friend?"
"Alec."
"Don't start that again Will Brenner, but talking about Alec, he has been singing
your praises, and wants me to call on you for the more critical jobs." Will felt a
cold shiver pass through him. The last thing he wanted was to get hooked into any
ongoing schedules that they were concocting.
"Our arrangement is that we negotiate any work on a job to job basis."
"I'm perfectly aware of our arrangement and don't need to be reminded."
Will detected the sharpness in her voice. "I don't give a damn. I'll always bring
it up if I think it's in danger of being misinterpreted."
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"There's no need for us to be at cross purposes, especially after looking at the
results of last Wednesday's work. I've got everything I wanted, there'll be no need
to go back."
Will breathed a sigh of relief. Suffering through another agonizing session,
going over the contents of that safe, would have been very painful. He felt
cautiously relaxed but still on guard, waiting for the next load of trouble to come
his way. It never came however, as the conversation centered around general
matters until it came time to leave.
On his way home Will tried to evaluate where he stood in the present scheme
of things. He was absolutely certain about one thing and that was Alec's
appearance on the scene. His future was going to be influenced by this very fact,
and he wasn't going to like it one bit. Margaret had an excuse now for calling on
him, and the future was set for confrontation.
As the months passed Will's assumptions were constantly realized. Alec was
as diligent as a beaver in his efforts to circumvent having to work with the others,
and much to Will's displeasure the jobs kept coming. The only redeeming factor
was that Alec remained extremely careful and efficient, consequently, the peaks
of anxiety associated with the work, were kept to a minimum.
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Chapter 14
Alec's Misfortune
Will browsed through the extensive technical section of a large city bookstore.
It was one of his occasional visits to the city with Dorothy and she had left to go
shopping, knowing that he would still be there when she returned. Technical
information was like a drug, keeping him totally occupied.
Moving up on to the mezzanine floor he headed for the reference section. After
awhile, and with no luck in finding what he wanted, he raised his head to ponder
the next move, only to find a familiar face staring at him from the other side of the
rack through a gap in the books. Taken completely by surprise he stood
motionless, devoid of any verbal response.
It was Alec, the last person he expected to see in a book store. An uneasy
feeling crept over him, and then fear at the thought of the possibility that his secret
associations could be exposed. Alec made for the end of the book rack intent on
making contact.
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Will furtively looked around at the other customers in the near vicinity, and
then down into the main concourse of the shop below. His eyes traversed the
entrance area expecting to see Dorothy appear, although it was far too early for
that. In addition, the store seemed suddenly full of detectives from the criminal
investigation bureau, intent on finding out who was consorting with a known felon.
It was too late to harbour such thoughts as Alec rounded the corner dressed in his
usual shabby suit and dirty white sneakers.
"You're the last person I expected to see in a place like this. Are you taking
a look at how the other half lives?"
"No. I'm just looking up the latest on locks and safes. I have to keep up with
what's going on."
"As long as you don't practice on my premises!"
Alec cracked a faint smile. "I don't think that's likely to happen, but I'm glad
we have crossed paths. Has Margaret been in touch?"
Will tensed with sudden anticipation. "No, why do you ask?"
Alec hesitated and his blank look indicated that he had said the wrong thing.
Will pressed his advantage but his original assessment of Alec's reticence to readily
offer up anything more than a few syllables was still evident.
"She mentioned that she would probably be making contact. That's all I
know."
There was no point in questioning a downright lie and every second in Alec's
presence, especially in a public place spelt danger, and Will hastened to break
things up. "I have to get going Alec."
Alec nodded and Will hurriedly made his way back down to the main floor
and out to the street. He would have to stay in the vicinity in case Dorothy arrived
back. Secreting himself in a shop doorway he waited some fifteen minutes before
Alec left the store.
Back inside, Will's mind was now preoccupied with the chance meeting, and
the mere thought of being contacted again completely swamped his purpose for
being there. He would never get used to the uncertainty, and his brain started
down the same old track it had travelled many times before. He stared blankly at
the bookshelves, but they didn't exist as his mind traversed through the endless
possibilities, but it was futile as he continued through the maze.
"Will!" I've been waiting downstairs for you. You said you would keep an eye
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open for me."
Shocked back to normality, Will turned. "I'm sorry, I got involved."
Dorothy started to make her way out of the store but not without a parting
comment. "You seem to be in another world when you get amongst those technical
books." He was content to leave her with that thought as they made their way out
of the city and back home.
The contact was quick, within a few days. Alec would not have said anything
about the chance meeting, or anything that may have been discussed, for fear of
a reprimand.
Tony was waiting in the Transport department as Will got out of his service
vehicle. He approached with outstretched hand as though he was greeting a friend.
Will didn't like it one bit. Irrespective of their individual personalities, these people
spelt trouble for him and his attitude always soured towards them until the ongoing
facts became known. His tone was curt and he ignored the outstretched hand,
continuing to walk briskly in the direction of the stairs. "What the hell are you doing
here? I've told you never to come to my place of work, it's too dangerous. I
haven't the time to hang around. I've got work to do!"
Tony broke into a trot in an effort to catch up. "Margaret wants to see you."
"Well, I have no desire to see her."
"I think it would be wise to do what she's asking."
Will stopped dead in his stride. "You bloody little pipsqueak, how dare you
threaten me! Do you really want to go down this road, because if you do it could
get very troublesome for you."
Tony's face took on a look of dejection and Will suddenly regretted what he
had just said, especially the force in his voice. It was quite out of keeping for Tony
to adopt such tactics and it indicated that whatever lay ahead must be important
to them.
"I'm sorry Will, forgive me, but Margaret impressed on me the importance for
her to see you. You know I can't handle aggravation." The two men stood in
silence seemingly at an impasse. "On your way home later on, could you drop off
at Margaret's for a brief chat? She won't keep you long."
Everything was happening so quickly with very little time for reflection. "Will
she be the only one there?"
"Yes."
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Everything had obviously been prearranged, but appeared plausible and Will
was beginning to conclude that there was no immediate danger of losing control.
The pressure for the meeting to take place was obvious, otherwise Tony would not
have appeared personally. He would have just been passed a note before he
started the day. He paused at the entrance to the stairway, holding the door half
open. "Okay. Tell her I'll be there later this afternoon."
As the door swung closed he could see Tony's face and body language
showing a picture of total relief and he heard his voice through the closing door.
"Thanks Will."
The day progressed without incident and Will found himself with plenty of time
to spare at the end of the day. Margaret was standing at the balcony railing looking
down as he circled and parked his vehicle.
She was sitting at her desk when he finally entered the lounge, looking relaxed
and wearing a casual dress. Walking over to get seated on the sofa she beckoned
for him to sit on the lounge chair opposite. He was well aware of her modus
operandi now, and after the niceties of the conversation had been dispensed with
this relaxed atmosphere would change to tension, when the reason for the meeting
began to emerge.
"I won't keep you long Will, but there's something coming up that we'll need
your help with."
"Is it electronics?"
"Yes."
"But you've got Adam's expertise now."
"This job is too sensitive. There will be none of our usual agents involved, just
you, me and Alec up front."
Will swallowed hard as the tension he had been expecting started to make
itself present. "What do you want from me?"
"It's a complex operation, but involves three phases. I need only to talk with
you about Phase 1."
Will began to get a strong feeling of apprehension. It sounded like the
beginning of a long affair and more exposure spelt the possibility of events getting
out of hand. She did say three phases. At least there would hopefully be enough
separation to provide some in between time to take stock.
Margaret was looking at him intently, probably reading the misgivings in his
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mind. "Initially, all that is required is a device for Alec."
"What sort of a device?"
"Well, as you probably know, people like Alec sometimes use a stethoscope
to listen to the safe tumblers. He will need the sounds amplified and an 'add on'
device to count for him so that he can fully concentrate on the sound
characteristics." So that's what Alec was doing at the book store!
"There's one other thing."
Will waited in anticipation. The situation could only get worse he was thinking.
"Alec tells me that sometimes an electronic alarm device is placed over the
combination dial. He wants something to bypass it."
Will looked at Margaret for what seemed a prolonged time. "What's the
matter? Is it something that you're not acquainted with?"
"No, quite to the contrary. It's attached to the steel safe door by a large
circular magnet and the micro-switch mechanism is adjusted to hair trigger
precision. There's only one way the device can be defeated, and it can't be done
by applying another piece of electronics."
"Can you provide Alec with what he wants?"
"The first part, yes. But I will need to think about your other request."
"When will I know?"
"It will take me up to a month for the electronic stethoscope. It has to be
custom built. I'll let you know at that time. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes. There's some preliminary work yet to do which will take some time. But
I'm happy with my progress so far."
"I have your permission to leave then?"
"If I didn't know you better Will Brenner, I would have mistaken that for a
sarcastic comment. Yes, you can go now."
During the fifteen minute drive home Will mulled over what had been
discussed. The electronics for listening to the combination tumblers was
straightforward, but circumventing the combination dial alarm was another matter.
It would be hard wired and inaccessible and the only way to beat the system,
involved cutting into and opening up the wiring. Re-directing the circuitry could be
complex and in some cases impossible, but the over-riding factor in all instances
was the fact that it would have to be done on the premises.
The last caper, breaking into the safe with Alec was child's play in comparison,
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and Will began to sweat just thinking about it. Even though the possibility of not
getting involved with an actual break-in was remote he would refrain from giving
Margaret any details until the very last minute, or until all avenues had been
explored.
During the next few weeks the electronics work proceeded without any
hitches. He had been doing some digital design and prototyping for an international
company that manufactured and packaged razor blades. The counting circuits
would do nicely for registering the safe tumblers.
No one had made contact during the period, but when he called Margaret she
was eager for an early meeting, which was arranged to take place two evenings
hence.
It was 7.30 p.m. when Will knocked on the door of Margaret's Import/Export
agency in Collins Street. He was quickly ushered to the back room to find Alec
sitting in the now familiar setting. Both men nodded and Alec's eyes focused on the
small bag that Will was carrying. He knew it would contain the electronic device
and his obvious restraint was showing. Margaret opened the conversation.
"You've completed what we discussed?"
"Yes, but it's impossible to concoct a device to beat the combination alarm."
Alec's face fell and he stared hard at Will, waiting for an alternative explanation
and the silence continued without a sign of any response. Alec's voice sounded
agitated. "If I can't get to the combination there will be no point in going in."
"In where?" queried Will.
Alec and Margaret looked at one another, neither eager to speak. Margaret
reluctantly responded, but ignored the question. "But surely you've got something
you can fall back on, a plan 'B' so to speak?"
Will was getting fed up with the way things were going. He felt as if he was
groping in the dark and finding it difficult to make any headway. They were
purposely withholding information. Under normal circumstances he would have
approached Margaret head-on but his hands were tied with Alec being present,
so there was no other choice. "Could I see you in the outer office?"
Margaret looked awkwardly at Alec. He shuffled over to the other side of the
room to try and make himself scarce.
"Is it absolutely necessary?"
"Yes."
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They both left for the outer office closing the interconnecting doors behind
them. Margaret sat in the receptionist's swivel chair and swinging to face Will
prepared to speak, but he cut her short.
"What the hell's going on? No one's answering my questions! It looks as
though you're purposely keeping me in the dark. Our arrangement is that I am kept
informed, with as much information as your agents would have. I won't go forward
with any electronics or anything else for that matter until you open up. For
starters, answer my last question."
Margaret looked uncomfortable and a period elapsed before she answered.
"The truth is I don't know where the location is yet, and I wouldn't tell Alec
anyway until a day or so before he was needed."
"So you haven't completed your preliminary work yet?"
"More or less, but we don't know where the information is that we want to get
our hands on."
"If you don't know the location, how do you know that the safe combination
will be protected, or for that matter whether a safe is involved at all?"
"We don't, but it is better to be sure than sorry."
"Look Margaret I feel very vulnerable, and I don't want to proceed unless I
know more of what's going on. I realize now that Alec is not aware of what you
are planning, but he and I have entirely different agenda's. Alec probably has no
one to worry about. His only problem no doubt is keeping out of jail, and even if
he found himself back in there, it would be far from traumatic for him."
They stared at each other across the room. There was no sign of antagonism
on Margaret's face. It was blank, as though her mind was devoid of thought, but
Will knew that she would be logically going over the pro's and con's before
committing herself. Will was about to start speaking again to further reinforce his
feelings. A faint smile was beginning to appear and he held back.
She stood up and leaned against a filing cabinet and by this time the faint smile
had developed into a wide grin. "You're a devil for the details Will Brenner."
"That's one of the ways I survive!"
"I'll make a bargain with you."
The atmosphere was rapidly getting more relaxed and Will was beginning to
feel that things could now start to go in the right direction for him. "I suppose I'll
finish up giving a hell of a lot and get very little in return, but I'm willing to take the
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risk."
Margaret moved towards the door ready to return to the back room. It was
a sign that could only be interpreted one way. She must feel that what she was
about to say would be acceptable. "If you give your device to Alec, and go over
the details with him, he can leave. Then I'll tell you as much as you'll need to know
at this stage to feel safe in going ahead."
"It's a deal."
Margaret, as she always did, reached forward and they shook hands, before
leading the way back up the corridor.
Alec jumped to his feet as they both entered. He looked more relieved than
anything else, so Will wasted no time in getting started. He produced a small flat
box capable of fitting inside a pocket, into which plugged two hearing-aid type ear
pieces and an acoustical probe, designed to be magnetically attached adjacent to
the combination dial. As Will talked Alec through the operation of the device his
eyes began to widen and a look of childish excitement came over his face. "Can
we do a demonstration?"
Will looked across at Margaret. "You must have a safe here."
An agitated look came over her face. "No way, you're not touching my safe!"
"Have it your way. We'll come back when you're not in, if you prefer."
Alec smiled and nodding his head turned to Will. "We don't have to go very
far, it's in this room," at the same time pointing to the back of a large settee pushed
against the wall.
"We'll have to get down on our knees, it's close to floor level."
The demonstration took but a few minutes and Alec left to play with his new
found toy. Margaret now seemed more relaxed. The proceedings had been in
jeopardy a short time ago. She was probably thankful that her plan was developing
the way she intended. "I'd better change the safe combination!"
"I don't think that would hamper Alec, but he would be crazy to burgle your
safe."
Margaret nodded in agreement and for a moment seemed reluctant to speak.
Her eyes had glazed over and Will was beginning to think that she was about to
go back on her promise. Her eyes blinked and she moved forward on her seat.
"We've been asked to look into something that's going on in government." Will
swallowed hard. The very sound of the word 'government' spelt the worst. "There
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are two or three high ranking ministers that have taken to information gathering.
We think that they are just gathering dirt against their opponents, but we're not
sure. The ramifications are explosive. The people that they sporadically employ
have organized crime connections, which could lead to complications." She paused
to allow Will's mind to assimilate the content of the conversation.
"It's not difficult to keep tabs on them. As you can imagine they are only
amateurs. What we don't know is the depth and quality of the information they are
stashing away."
"Can't you indirectly put the frighteners on them to put a stop to it?"
"That's more or less what we will be attempting to do, but in a profound way,
to make sure that it stops for good."
The conversation ceased abruptly and seemed to be waiting for a kick-start.
Will remained silent, he had already heard enough to give him plenty to think about
and that gut feeling had started, reminding him that he had experienced this
moment before on several occasions. It always appeared prior to the delivery of
something resembling a knock-out punch. The lull before the storm.
"Your old boss is one of them."
Will felt a shiver go down his spine. He knew that the conversation would now
begin to bear down on him directly, and the adrenalin created by the gut feeling
began to sink as he became uneasy, not knowing what was coming next. "That
doesn't mean much to me."
"I think it does. You had a connection with him and his family whilst you were
working in the factory."
Pictures started flashing into Will's mind and he vividly remembered the very
day that he met Mr. Garner, the Chairman of the Company. He had not long taken
his post as a Federal Cabinet Minister. Working amongst the hubbub of the
production floor, Will became conscious of someone standing immediately behind
him. Turning, he was confronted by Mr. Garner accompanied by his two sons,
Gregory and Paul.
The father was a short man of thickset build, emanating an air of rigidity which
closely resembled the captain of the "Wiltshire." He was dressed in a dark
business suit and trilby hat. His shoulders seemed to be permanently raised,
making it appear that his head was placed solidly on his body, with very little, if
any, neck showing.
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Gregory, the eldest brother, was the mirror image of his father down to his
very mannerisms. Paul was totally different. A slim, handsome, blonde wavy haired
youth, taller than the other two. Gregory and his father were focused directly
towards Will, but Paul's eyes were scanning the women on the production lines.
It was obvious that his mind was concentrating on other things.
"Are you Will Brenner?" Mr. Garner's voice was deep and booming. What
one would expect from the shape and volume of his body.
"Yes Mr. Garner. What can I do for you?"
"These are my two sons, Gregory and Paul." Gregory eagerly reached forward
to shake hands but Paul was still detached.
"Paul, pay attention."
"Yes Dad. Sorry."
"I want you to get them involved in every aspect of production, from when the
product leaves design, to when it gets despatched. Before they move on, no matter
how long it takes, I want them to be fully conversant."
"Yes Mr. Garner."
"If they give you any trouble you have my permission to kick their backsides."
He led them both over to an area clear of machinery and people. By the look
of their body language he was giving them some intensive advise. Briefly, looking
over towards Will, the chairman nodded in approval and walked away, leaving the
two young men in his care.
During the ensuing weeks that followed their characters were soon
contrastingly defined. Gregory was completely devoted to learning about the
work. He absorbed every minute detail which resulted in copious notes and he
would constantly ask questions, never letting go until he was fully acquainted with
the problem.
Paul, on the other hand, had a devil-may-care attitude. A typical rich man's
son, always taking advantage of the moment to slip away from any work. After
assigning them both separate work places on the production floor, Will would look
across after awhile and see Gregory, head bent, beavering away, and Paul, away
from his work place, laughing and joking with one of the women on the line. A
reprimand had very little effect. Some days he would not show up for work, and
it took awhile to find out what he was up to.
"Where's Paul, Greg?"
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"He'll be on dad's yacht, in the marina, entertaining the sheilas."
Will, from that day on found himself on more than one occasion visiting the
marina. Paul would either be preparing or already have visitors, usually young
women lying on the deck in bikinis. The ultimate threat would have to be applied
to get him back to work.
"I'm going to write a memo to your dad Paul."
"You wouldn't do that."
"It will read as follows. After observing Paul entertaining on your yacht instead
of working at the factory, I would strongly suggest you put him to work in an
environment that will suit his demeanour. He would fit perfectly in a night club."
Will would always get him back to the factory, but he never changed
throughout the whole period of his stay. Quite a few years later Mr. Garner died
suddenly of a heart attack and guess who took on the chairmanship of that massive
company? Yes, it was Gregory.
He had been silently putting up with Paul's selfish ways for all those years and
the moment he sat in his dad's chair in the boardroom, Paul found himself out on
the fringes, begging for favours as the company moved forward, under the strong
hand of Gregory. He could faintly hear Margaret talking through the misty past that
was still evident in his thoughts.
"I'm sorry Margaret. You were saying?"
"You know the family. Are there any weak links?"
It was as though she had been reading his mind. By now, Paul would be
carrying around a lot of problems. Gregory, on the other hand, would be squeaky
clean. Yes, Paul could easily be manipulated and Will felt his skin creep as he
envisaged Margaret finding this out during the normal course of her enquiries. He
could then find himself in a very 'iffy' position. He drew a deep breath and started
to put into words what had been going through his mind, and Margaret's face lit
up with every word.
"You've saved me weeks of work Will. Whilst you were talking, everything fell
into place. I'll need to sort out the details, but I can tell you basically what I intend
to do." Will waited to hear the worst, especially to learn the extent of his own
involvement.
"We'll dip into his past and find something appropriate and then put the
pressure on. When the time is right I'll ask you to pay him a visit. He will think it
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is a chance meeting. If you can get the appropriate information out of him it will
enable you and Alec to go to work. You know, similar to the safe job you did with
him."
She had no need to paint a picture. It was vivid enough. "Yes, I understand.
But when the time comes I'll need to have enough details to enable me to assess
the risks."
"You'll get enough information to suit your purpose, I can assure you of that!"
There was nothing more to be said.
He walked briskly towards where he had parked the car. The city streets were
now bathed with incandescent light and there was plenty of activity, but it in no
way subdued the turbulence in his mind. Even negotiating the traffic had little effect.
Driving through the country his mind concentrated on the details of the evening,
constantly trying to clarify the way forward. It would be futile to arrive home in this
state of mind. Dorothy would not have retired for the night.
He subconsciously turned off the highway along the road to Park Orchards
and down the offshoot to the very spot where he had met Ed to discuss the Croat
surveillance. Turning off the engine he sat in the contrasting silence.
It was scary sitting there in the shadowy darkness staring at the bank where
he had sat with Ed. His shape seemed to materialize and Will stared at him through
the open window. He felt the impulse to become vocal and called out into the
dimness of the night. "You bloody fool Ed! Why did you go back on your own?"
There was no reply from the shadows but Will's mind had now been diverted.
It was time to go home and hopefully shed the happenings of the day - for a short
while anyway.
Two months had elapsed and Will was beginning to get the feeling that perhaps
Margaret had been confronted with a problem that she may not be able to solve.
In the back of his mind however, he knew that he was engaging in frivolous
thinking. Weaving between the other employees he headed for the wide stairway,
down to the main entrance and reception of the Transport department, eager to
catch the first available train home. His service vehicle was needed overnight for
repairs and for once he was having to use public transport.
He spotted her standing with her back against the marble clad wall, opposite
the reception desk. A vantage position for scanning the area. She smiled as he
bumped his way across the main stream of bodies to stand next to her. "Hello Will,
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you won't mind if I drive you home? We can chat on the way."
"Do I have a choice? By the way, how did you know I wouldn't have a
vehicle?"
"You must know by now that we have our way of finding out, but let's not
start off on the wrong foot."
"You're not here to enhance my day!"
"I guess we are all in the same boat."
"Yes, but you're there by design. Me, by accident."
As Will climbed into the car his two months respite from the organization
collapsed into nothing. The continuation was about to begin and he would have
been happier standing on a crowded train.
They drove in silence for a while and Will's conscience started to surface. "I'm
sorry Margaret, I don't want to battle with you personally, but you must admit the
type of work you're involved in doesn't nurture goodwill and understanding."
The car stopped momentarily at traffic lights and she looked across. "We have
to find the best way and I’ll do everything in my power to try and keep things
going smoothly. I'd like you to accept that for what it's worth."
"I do, but I can only rely on my own judgement and I prefer that to be based
on fact."
The car turned into a small parking area overlooking the Yarra river. Traffic
from the city was making it's way along the boulevard, eastward. Margaret settled
back to get more comfortable and they both watched the movement on the other
side.
"You will be giving me the facts?"
Margaret didn't turn her head. "Yes, but there's not a lot to divulge at this
stage."
"I suppose you've left no stone unturned looking into Paul Garner's
background."
"Yes, there's plenty to go at. As you envisaged, his short, young life has been
a series of train wrecks. It was difficult to choose, but we've used two or three of
his major problems to be certain that we get him in the right mood."
"You've hit on him then?"
"Yes, several times. He thinks that the people contacting him are from
organized crime, consequently he's too scared to move in any direction."
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"During the time that he was with me we never had the best of relationships.
He's not likely to talk to me!"
"Quite to the contrary. The picture he will still have of your background will
probably give him enough confidence to open up." Will remained silent, hesitant
to ask the inevitable. "All we want to know is where in the house his father keeps
all his Government papers. You know - the secret stuff!"
"Is that all?" was Will's cynical reply.
"You've proven that you are good at what you do, and I think you can do it
without compromising yourself."
"When will I see him?"
"The sooner the better. He's on that yacht most every day."
The remainder of the drive home continued in silence. Will just gazed through
the window at the passing scenery, but his mind was elsewhere. What threats had
they used on Paul? It was best that the sadistic details were kept secret from him.
His mind was labouring enough anyway.
He left the car in Vermont with hardly a word. The atmosphere between them
had darkened. A reflection portraying the indecency of the plot that was being
enacted. This was totally alien to the logical progression of his electronics world
and Will was feeling it engulfing him. Margaret was fully aware of what would be
going on in his mind and pursued the matter no further. Just a short parting remark
"Contact me if you need any help." It would be a one man band from now on, was
the only thought in response to her remark.
It took two days for Will's mind to settle down enough to visit the yacht club.
The afternoon sun was bearing down on the marina as he walked along the
wooden mooring bays, towards where the Garner's yacht would be tied up. A hot
north wind had sprung up and the pinging noises of the steel wires slapping against
the aluminium masts was breaking into his efforts to keep concentrated. The setting
was idyllic and saturated with affluence, appearing to object to the very reason that
he was there.
The "Electron" was sitting majestically against the quay, it's steel hull polished
to mirror-like perfection, ready to spring into life at the sound of the harbour
master's cannon, signalling the start of a race. Will walked casually along as though
to walk on past as he spotted Paul sitting on the deck, a beer in his hand. He stood
up at first a puzzled look on his face which turned into a knowing smile. "Well I'll
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be damned, Will Brenner! What are you doing here?"
Will looked across the deck but there were no bikini clad girls in sight. "I'm
visiting 'The Flyer', Mr. Benson's yacht to see if his son Vic is on board."
Will, changeing his direction, walked the few paces to the mini gangway and
stepped on to the deck.
"Would you like a beer?"
"No thanks, I'll only stay a minute. Aren't you at the factory these days?"
They both sat down on the slotted benches forward of the poop deck. Paul's
body language was not portraying it's usual ego, and his facial expression was now
one of seriousness. A look Will had never seen on this particular individual.
Margaret's handiwork was now becoming apparent. "No, I've got other things to
worry about."
Both men fell silent and Will was beginning to feel uneasy. Should he launch
straight into the fray or wait for further developments? No, better not do that. It
would give Paul more time to recede from the nature of the conversation.
"That sounded pretty ominous. What's up? Is your past catching up with
you?"
Paul went immediately on the offensive, a look of anger on his face. "What the
hell do you know about my past, what did you mean by that remark?"
Will gestured apologetically. "Forgive me for breathing Paul, I didn't mean to
infer anything. You sounded down, that's all." Paul recoiled, slightly taken aback.
"The tone in your voice sounded just the way I've felt on a good many occasions."
"Did it sound that bad?"
"Bad enough. I've had a lifetime of agro from people giving me trouble.
Sometimes it was of matter of suffering in silence, but once in a while someone
'stepped up to the plate' and helped me through."
Paul's eyes were staring and Will could envisage his mind working like a
calculator. It was now or never. Would he open up or freeze? Had he moved too
quickly? Paul looked across. "What sort of trouble have you been in?"
"Big trouble. A matter of life or death actually."
Paul hesitated. He was obviously struggling with his thoughts. "Yes, I have got
some trouble, but neither you or anyone can help me."
"Those very same words have echoed in my brain many times, only to be
eventually proven wrong."
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"How is it possible for you to help me?"
An outcome was now definitely in the offing, and it was only necessary to state
the obvious. "If I don't know the nature of the problem, how will I know?"
"You won't tell a soul will you? It could ruin me and my family."
"You can bank on it. Always remember, I've been there myself."
The details came thick and fast. He was hardly stopping to draw breath in an
obvious effort to relieve the pressure that had built up inside. When he eventually
stopped Will sat there dumbfounded. The web that Margaret had succeeded in
weaving was all encompassing. Paul's impatience at not receiving an immediate
response boiled over. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to do anything. You're
stymied aren't you?"
"As a matter of fact, no. You haven't given me enough time to put the pieces
together."
Paul looked dejected. A short while ago he was at least in control of the
problem in his own mind, but now he was between a rock and a hard place with
another person's integrity to worry about. Will knew instinctively that he couldn't
leave him up in the air without something to look forward to. It could be
dangerous. "I can do something for you but I have to see a couple of people first."
Paul's face momentarily lit up and then faded. "You're not conning me, are
you?"
"No, rest assured of that. Can I see you in a couple of days, during the evening
preferably, and not here?"
"My Dad's away on a government trip and he's taken my mother. Gregory is
in Sydney on a business venture for the next few days. We could meet at the
house, if that's convenient."
There it was again. Handed to him on a platter, an open invitation to the very
place he needed to see. "That sounds good. Let's say the evening after next, at
7.30 p.m."
"What will you be doing during the next couple of days?"
"I'll tell you when we meet. Just try and relax, I feel certain your problems can
be solved. Is your house equipped with security?"
"Yes, but I'll see that it is switched off when you visit. There's a narrow
driveway at the back of the house leading to my quarters. It will be best to enter
that way instead of the main drive."
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Will made his way back along the deck, his excuse for visiting Vic completely
forgotten. With each step his mind and body were slipping into a nauseous state.
Once out of sight of the yacht he collapsed on to a wooden storage locker situated
next to the quay. Sitting bent over with his head in his hands he let the feeling
develop. There was no point in fighting it. What he was doing to another human
being was despicable, completely out of character with his upbringing, and the
reaction was chastising his very being. He badly needed a reason for his actions,
but there was not one available. An excuse perhaps to see him through the next
phase of deceit. The very least he could do was to see that Paul's manufactured
circumstances were wholly dispensed with. Yes, he would feel better if that were
accomplished.
He refrained from informing Margaret of his forthcoming meeting. She would
be expecting some time to elapse anyway before contact was made. It was a
minor consolation knowing that at least temporarily, he was in control.
Darkness had fallen when Will parked his car about a quarter of a mile away
and walked to the house in Brighton, a suburb adjacent to Port Phillip Bay. If
anything went wrong God forbid! He would feel safer on foot.
It was a fairly new property positioned on an abutment of land overlooking the
bay. A single storey design that sprawled over the land, with sections that seemed
to be dropped on to man-made ledges to take advantage of the view. An
abundance of established trees shrouded the perimeter as Will made his way to the
hidden driveway at the rear.
It was a still night, the silence unnerving. He was trying to step lightly to muffle
the sound of his footsteps without very much success. He could feel his heart beat
increasing, as he had experienced on many an occasion. It was the uncertainty of
the immediate future. The lights from the house were full on and shining across the
narrow driveway into the trees beyond. Will scanned the walls looking for a door,
but could see nothing. He approached the first large window and looked in.
Paul was seated facing him in a comfortable lounge chair. Will raised his hand
to knock as Paul looked up, jumping to his feet, a shocked look on his face.
Quickly recovering, he pointed towards the other end of the building and Will
noticed a tiny concealed entrance, partially hidden by shrubbery. Paul met him at
the door. "You frightened me Brenner, I was expecting a car to come down the
driveway."
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"I didn't know what to expect so I left it parked up the street."
Everything seemed to be in order as they settled down into easy chairs in what
Will could see now was a small study. It was premature to relax however, until he
knew more about his surroundings. He doubted any form of surveillance but it was
prudent to remain on guard. Paul leaned forward in his seat, his posture indicating
anticipation. "Have you managed to do anything?"
"Yes, I've seen the people that I mentioned and there's been some discussion."
"Why would these people do anything for me? What do they want in return?"
"They are interested in the sources that are threatening you. The circumstances
suit their requirement. Nothing is required from you except information."
"What sort of information?"
"It's the general consensus of opinion that your antagonists are getting ready
to apply some form of blackmail."
Paul's face took on a worried look. "Blackmail?"
"Yes, it seems fairly certain."
Paul stood up and started to pace backwards and forwards in the small room.
He was obviously agitated at the prospect of additional trouble. He spoke as he
walked. "What could they want from me except money that I owe, and favours
that they could demand of me?"
"It's not you they want to get at." Paul stopped in his stride, a puzzled look on
his face. "They want your father's influence and power, and they can get at him
through you. Your brother Greg is clean, but your background gives them all the
ammunition they want."
Paul sat down, a blank look on his face. "My God, how am I going to survive
all this? “He hesitated. “But if I do, my lifestyle will completely change."
He said it with conviction, and Will believed him. "Where do we go from here
Will Brenner?"
"I have to ask you directly what they will get from you by threats and coercion.
The ball's in your court. If we can get to the source of information they need, they
can be stopped. It's up to you." He didn't hesitate. The thought of the possibility
of moving towards getting his problems resolved must be overpowering, Will was
thinking.
"What sort of information?"
"Your father keeps his private files somewhere. Not the usual office stuff. You
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know, records that he wouldn't want his family, friends and office staff to know
about."
Will could practically hear Paul's brain ticking over. "They could be here or at
the factory, or in both places."
"Where here? And where at the factory?"
"I think I know where they might be in the house, but at the factory, no."
It was obvious what was going through Paul's mind and Will hastened to plug
the gap. "You don't need to touch anything to prevent you from being implicated.
Just show me where, and my source will do the rest." He hesitated briefly, "it
could be over fairly quickly and then you'll be free of all the hassle they are giving
you." There was that sign of hesitation again. He got up from his chair but seemed
reluctant to take the initiative. "Look Paul, if you've got second thoughts and you
don't trust me I can leave right now, walk out of here, and leave you to your own
devices. It would be better for me that way, I can assure you!"
Paul started to walk towards the door beckoning for Will to follow. "I do trust
you. It's just that you are moving fairly quickly and I need time to catch up. Before
you came along I was falling deeper and deeper into a black hole with nothing to
look forward to, but trouble."
They continued to walk through corridors and adjoining rooms. The place was
like a rabbit warren and Will was finding it difficult to keep some form of
orientation. Floors were heavily carpeted and together with the abundance of
upholstered furniture, silenced every movement. Will was thinking of Alec. He
would be in his element here! It became obvious that they had migrated to the
back of the house as large plate glass viewing windows, that overlooked the bay,
came into sight. The lights of an ocean going ship were shining in the distance. The
room was expansive but divided into two sections, one smaller than the other
which could be closed off, by oak folding doors. All the walls were oak panelled.
The small room was a typical well furnished study, with bookshelves around
the walls. The larger room furnished with upholstered settees and lounge chairs.
A large drink buffet complete with bar, manifested it's use for entertaining.
Probably where Mr. Garner met with his political cronies. This was obviously the
place. Paul stopped and turned. "The safe is here."
"In the study?"
"No, that's what one would tend to think." He walked over to a door at the far
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end of the sitting-room that opened into a small walk-in closet.
"In here then?"
"Wrong again." He flicked on the light switch and then a second switch
alongside, which appeared to do nothing. He pointed to it. "That switch releases
the mechanism that holds the safe cover in place, but there's more yet."
It was becoming painfully apparent that Mr. Garner had gone to extreme
lengths to protect the safe from being burgled. There's got to be vital information
in there! They moved back into the sitting-room and Paul pushed on a section of
the oak panelling and the whole section opened up, revealing a six foot by four
foot movie screen. Paul turned and smiled as Will gasped, but still no safe. Pushing
on the lower edge of the screen caused it to pivot at the centre and there it was -
a small recessed wall safe!
Will had, up to now, been totally absorbed in the process of getting to the safe
but now he suddenly felt vulnerable. He quickly glanced across at the viewing
window and felt as though he was standing in the window of a city store. His only
desire was to get the hell out of there and his attention quickly centred on the safe.
The size indicated it's use for small valuable items which could include highly
sensitive documents. The final shock though was the presence of not one, but two
magnetic devices. One over the tumblers, the other positioned to prevent the
locking handle from being turned. Will's heart sank until he took a closer look. He
recognized the workmanship. These devices represented the analogy of a landmine
waiting to be triggered. There was no need for further inspection. They were the
invention and manufacture of Maxwell Scrieber. He knew Max, and had worked
with him on security devices in the past. A visit to Maxwell's Electronic laboratory
was going to be essential.
"Do you know the combination, Paul?"
"No."
"Have you seen what's inside this safe?"
"Yes, quite recently, but not close up. Dad happened to be putting some
papers back in one evening when I walked into the room. All the family know of
the safe but only Dad knows the combination."
"It just contains papers then? No money or jewellery?"
"Yes, only papers."
There was no doubt in Will's mind that this was what Margaret was looking
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for. Quickly shutting everything up again, Will and Paul retreated back through the
maze of rooms towards the small entrance lobby where Will had first entered.
"What about the alarm system?"
"There's only a perimeter system apart from the safe but that's part of the
system as well, but it's permanently turned on. Only Dad knows how to disarm it."
"You can move throughout the house without setting anything off then?"
"Yes. What's going to happen next?"
"It may be a couple of weeks or so, but don't despair. I need to see you one
more time, then when everything's finished I'll drop in to see you at the yacht club.
If you get approached in the meantime, just play along and try to stall for more
time. If you can't cope I'm in the phone book, but don't do anything foolish. If you
do, everything could explode in your face."
"I'll keep a low profile until I see you again."
The door closed behind him and Will stood for a moment before moving off
down the driveway. The surroundings had taken on a sinister connotation brought
about by the fact that the next time he frequented this scene the mission would
have taken on frightening proportions. A few details still had to be clarified, but it
was now time to see Margaret again and also Maxwell Scrieber to extract from
him details about his magnetic designs.
An arrangement was made to meet Margaret at her house in Park Orchards.
She pestered him for every minute detail, starting with his meeting with Paul on the
yacht. Her reaction to the result, especially about the discovery of the safe could
only be described as exuberant.
"This is excellent! It puts us miles ahead of schedule. Your work could only be
described as exemplary. You should come and work with me full-time. I can see
to it that you'll have no worries financially."
"My answer will always be 'no'. I don't consider applying mental coercion to
an individual under a load of stress very commendable work, which leads me to
get your assurance that Paul will be left completely in the clear - no ongoing
problems."
"That's easy to promise. You might as well know that we are only going to
extract these documents from the safe. The Minister will be dead scared to report
the nature of the contents to the police. He will stop gathering information, always
fearful that the missing items will turn up to embarrass him."
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"The two devices on the safe will have to be disarmed before Alec can do his
job. I'll attempt to get some up-to-date information about them which may or may
not help. We need to meet, say a week from today with Alec present. Can you
arrange that?"
"Yes. What about these devices? They could make or break the venture
couldn't they?"
Will nodded. "With whatever information is available, no matter how small, it
will have to be coped with on the night."
Maxwell Scrieber's combined workshop and electronics laboratory was
situated on the beach road in Beaumaris, a bayside suburb. It was actually a
converted shop with no signs to indicate it's use, not even a number. For some
unknown reason the windows were completely blacked out, stopping all natural
light from entering. Hanging florescent lights, the only source of illumination in the
large room, with a small sink and cupboard in the corner behind a partition, where
one could make a cup of tea.
Will parked the car opposite as he had done on previous occasions, pulling off
the road on to a small dusty area. There were no railings and only a few feet from
the vehicle the land dropped away suddenly, down to the water some fifty or sixty
feet below. Will always had misgivings parking there, and he gave the handbrake
an extra pull to make sure that it was fully on before making his way across the
road to knock on the door.
Maxwell greeted him wearing the same old brown dustcoat partly covering an
open neck shirt that badly needed to be introduced to the laundry. His thinning
tousled hair, fell about his ears. A short man who walked with a crouching stance,
an appearance that gave one the impression that he was constantly preparing to
sit down. His quiet demeanour masked his brilliance with designing items for the
security field, keeping his expertise constantly in demand.
"Hello Will Brenner!" What are you doing in these neck of the woods?"
Will knew that Maxwell was never one for small talk, always eager to get
down to the technicalities and he would instinctively know that Will would not be
paying him a social visit. Not being there to work it was best to come directly to
the point and his stay would be a short one.
"I've been asked by an organization to make up some copies of your magnetic
safe clamp devices. I told them no, so they've managed to get a couple from a safe
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that's been discarded and want me to install them."
"That shouldn't be a problem for you Will."
"That's true, but I want to see that the installation conforms to your colour
coding and for obvious security reasons you don't issue circuit diagrams."
Maxwell sauntered over to one of his test benches and taking a piece of paper
from a tray quickly scribbled the information on it. "Is this what you need?"
Will looked at the sketch. "Yes, everything is there. Thanks Maxwell."
Maxwell furtively glanced into his design bay. "I've got a circuit cooking. I
must get back to it."
"I'll leave you to it then."
Will found himself back out on the street. The encounter had only taken a few
minutes and he had all the information he'd come for. There was only one snag.
The devices at the Minister's house may not have been installed by Maxwell, and
there was no way he could have asked. The thought of cutting into those wires to
bypass the system brought an uncontrollable shiver, and he tried unsuccessfully to
put it out of his mind.
Alec was always early whenever a meeting was arranged. He seemed to
quietly relish the thought of getting back into the fray. One would have assumed
that his spell in prison would have made him cautious.
He was there with Margaret when Will arrived at the Import/Export agency
in the city. His body language seemed to give the conflicting impression that he was
keeping the lid on a turmoil that was going on inside him. The fleeting looks of
expectation in Will's direction however, were a dead giveaway. Will had watched
him before sitting on the edge of his seat, like a sprinter on the starting block. The
ball was in Will's court and he knew that Alec was only interested in bare facts. He
quickly got bored with inconsequential detail.
Margaret had already heard most of what he was about to divulge, but her
concentration was also brought to bear and the two just stared across the room,
waiting in silence for Will to start.
"Everything is about ready to go except for a couple of items." The corners of
Alec's mouth lifted slightly, his interpretation of a smile. "I know my way through
the house to the safe and how to uncover it. It's well hidden." He turned to Alec.
"You'll have to break in via the rear door but it's secluded and covered by
shrubbery. It mustn't be discovered that doors were left open, or Paul will come
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under suspicion. That's dangerous for us."
Alec spoke for the first time. "What about the alarm?"
"It will be switched off when we go in, but we have to switch it back on before
we leave, again to divert suspicion from Paul."
"The safe. What about the safe?"
Alec was rubbing his hands together in expectation, like a salesman about to
close a sale. "It's small - a wall safe. The door is about eighteen inches square and
looked brand new. There was no name."
"What did the combination dial look like?"
"I couldn't see it, we'll discuss why later, but even though it was new, it had an
old-fashioned lever on the right side."
Alec's face lit up. "Did it have gold embossed corner decorations, about a
couple of inches from each corner?"
"Yes."
"That's a relief, I know the type. We won't have any trouble."
"I'll soon put a damper on that! There are two magnetic devices. One over the
combination and the other positioned next to the handle."
Alec collapsed back into his seat. "Well bugger me!" It was the very first time
he had heard Alec swear. It indicated just how dejected he had suddenly become.
Will didn't respond. He would let Alec stew for a little longer. Margaret's eyes
were intently on Will's face in an effort to detect even the smallest sign that in the
next sentence everything would be reversed and the problem solved. She was
aware of his visit to Maxwell Scrieber, but not of the outcome. Alec was starting
to get agitated, probably at the thought that the caper would be aborted. Will
suspected that he was paid handsomely for work well done, which would add to
his frustration. Will drew breath to speak and they both leaned forward
simultaneously.
"I warned you that these devices could get complicated. I've managed to get
all the technical information from the designer, but the snag is that he may not have
been the one to install them and there's no way I can find out." This brief
explanation did nothing to bolster their spirits. "I've got to cut into the wiring and
bypass the alarm, but if the colour coding of the wires were not installed as
designed, all hell will break loose!" He looked directly at Alec. "How long will it
take you to get that door open whilst the alarm's sounding?"
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Alec stood up, the smile that was usually suppressed had taken over his face.
"You're willing to have a go then?"
"Yes."
"I think you can pull it off Will. When the time comes I'll do whatever is
necessary. When is it to be?"
"I have to see Paul one more time. He'll know when the house will be vacated,
and then arrangements can be made. I'll let Margaret know."
Alec was obviously satisfied and took Will's last remark as a sign to leave.
There was not even a parting gesture as he virtually disappeared through the door
like a ghost in the night. Margaret followed to let him out of the office.
Will was ready to leave by the time Margaret returned. She seemed subdued.
"Is everything alright? You don't seem very happy."
"I've got a strong feeling that this operation could get very hazardous."
"It's a bit late to start thinking like that, but it's good to see that you've got even
a modicum of concern."
"Are you taking a shot at me Will Brenner?"
"Let's say a parting shot. I've had enough for one day. I'll be in touch."
Driving home as always, after these preliminary meetings, Will's mind
resembled the turmoil of a fairground. Everything seemed to be shouting at him in
rapid succession with no time to sort out the bits and pieces into any logical order.
The one predominant theme however, was the frightening unknown outcome of
interfering with those magnet safe devices. He would have to carry this feeling right
up to the time when he would be standing in front of that safe again. Only this time
with Alec.
Paul was predictably present on his father's yacht. He ran forward, eager to
make contact. "Is everything sorted out?"
"Yes. I just need a day and time when the house will be vacant and the alarm
turned off."
"That's easy. Dad's going to be away until the end of the Parliamentary recess.
At least a couple of weeks, and mother's still with him. Gregory is going to Sydney
on Sunday for a week, so any evening next week would be okay."
"We had better make it firm right now. What about Wednesday evening, after
dark? Make sure the alarm is turned off and that you're away until late, say around
midnight."
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"Will you be there?"
"Yes. Mainly to see that nothing gets fouled up in such a way that you could
be suspected."
"I'll be in your debt Will Brenner when this is over."
"You'll owe me nothing. If everything goes according to plan I'll see you once
more to tie up any loose ends, after that it will be prudent not to meet again."
Will left the yacht club with that empty feeling. There was nothing more could
be done until the night. The void would continue until that time. It was a relief not
having to work with anyone, left alone to ponder his thoughts between service
visits. The nature of his work had not changed, but the days leading up to the
arranged outing on Wednesday evening seemed endless. The more experience he
had gained with these events only seemed to intensify pressure, which was
unmercifully unforgiving.
Finally, Wednesday evening arrived. Will sat through a quiet meal with
Dorothy. It was already getting dark as he sat looking through the picture window
in the lounge-room, sipping his coffee. The lights were twinkling from houses down
in the valley below. The depression between the hills continued through to Port
Phillip Bay some miles to the south. During the evening, after a hot day, a cool
breeze originating from the large volume of water, would find it's way up to the
house on the side of the hill. A welcome relief.
It was not that form of relief he was seeking however. Reluctantly, he collected
his small tool bag which contained the instruments necessary to do the job, and
walked up the hill to meet Alec. Halfway up the incline he stopped and looked
back across the gardens and down to the roof of the house and pictured the family
inside. His reluctance to embark on this escapade welled up even more.
He could see Alec's car parked on the service road, but no Alec. He soon
appeared however from the General store on the corner with a double-header ice
cream which was already running down the cone, on to his hand. It was a stupid
thought taking into account the severity of the evening, but he was saying to
himself, "that ice cream will be in his lap before we have driven far." The average
person would have been exuding nervous tension but Alec's nonchalance was
really off-putting.
They pulled into the very spot where Will had parked on his previous visit.
Will looked through the trees towards the house. "Damn!"
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"What's the matter?"
"There's a light on. There must be someone in the house."
"Could Paul have got things wrong?"
"No. Perhaps one of the family has arrived home early."
They both sat gazing out into the darkness. Will's thoughts were split right
down the middle. On the one hand aborting the mission would have been a relief,
on the other he knew it would be better to get it over and done with, rather than
postpone it. Alec was reaching for the door handle. "I'll go and have a look
around."
There was no point in asking him to be careful. This was his stock-in-trade and
Will watched him until he finally disappeared amongst the shrubbery. It seemed
forever, sitting and waiting, expecting any minute to be questioned by a police
patrol, but nothing happened until the light in the house was suddenly extinguished.
Will sat bolt upright in his seat, leaning forward to try and get a better view through
the windshield. He expected Alec to appear, and in a hurry, but when he
eventually hoved into sight it was more of an afternoon stroll. He opened the door
and reached inside for his bag.
"What are you doing? Didn't you see the activity in the house? Someone is in
there, they turned out the light!"
"There's no one in there - that was me! I thought it best to turn it off before I
left." Will swallowed hard. He had already broken in and had a look around. In
contrast to Will, his nervous state must have been hovering around Zero. He
followed Alec into the grounds and through the door at the end of the driveway,
where Paul had let him in. Once inside, Will's nerves rose a few more notches,
unlike the last time he could not be described as a visitor.
Alec spoke in a whisper. "Show me the way to the safe."
The silence seemed absolute as they made their way through the house. Their
footsteps were completely dampened by the deep pile of the carpet, but the mere
movement created a faint rustling sound, which seemed to get amplified in the mind
as the seconds ticked by. Will opened the door and walked into the room with the
large viewing window. It was emanating an eerie light which gave the objects in the
room a silvery hue. Alec watched as Will went through the motions to uncover the
safe. He was shining his pencil torch and the reflected light on his face revealed the
increasing excitement, peaking as the safe door finally came into view.
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Alec was smiling. "I thought it would be this type. There'll be no difficulty
opening it. Get rid of those electronic devices for me Will."
It was a simple request, but it presented the ultimate challenge. One slip and
the affair would result in bedlam and panic. Will pulled out the excess wiring from
behind the panelling. When he had finished, his repair work would be hidden, and
hopefully not detected.
Alec focused the light as Will removed a surgeon's scalpel from his bag,
together with previously prepared jumper wires. He stretched a portion of the wire
over the wooden frame in the wall and prepared to cut the insulation along it's
length. Beads of sweat appeared as if by magic, running down his face and into his
eyes. He pictured a nurse dabbing the surgeon's forehead with a pad. He could
have done with that right now as he wiped his eyes on his jacket sleeve, getting
them back into focus.
The cut was successful first time and he slipped his finger between the
insulation and spread the wires across his hand. Red, black, green, yellow, orange,
as per the information. No snags so far. Any electronics engineer worth his salt
would have paired the red and black to his detriment, but in this case it would be
red and green. The second matching pair, black and yellow, with orange as a
dummy wire, to add to the confusion. He quickly stripped a small amount of
insulation from each wire and fitted the jumper. The time that he had been dreading
had arrived and he felt his body start to shiver.
Alec looked down. "Have you finished?"
"Yes. Take hold of the magnets and twist them. They'll pull off, but if the alarm
goes, get that door open quick smart!"
Alec nodded and proceeded as instructed. Will's body jumped as he heard the
microswitch's click. The milliseconds period before the alarm would normally
sound, seemed stretched out in time. Will realized that it was not going to happen.
"You're a genius Will," was Alec's brief remark as he began to tackle opening
the safe. He didn't need the counting device, only the tumbler amplifier. About a
dozen turns of the dial was enough before the heavy clunking sound of the door
handle preceded the swinging open of the door.
Alec retrieved a letter size, soft leather container, housing no more than fifty
documents. He passed them to Will and then closing the safe door repositioned
the magnetic devices. The connecting wires were secreted once again, behind the
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panelling, and the covers replaced.
The whole episode had now taken on a more menacing aspect. Before, if
caught, it could have been mistaken for a simple burglary but in possession of the
documents the outcome would be far worse.
After rechecking that nothing had been left behind they made their way back
through the house towards the secluded entrance. Everything had gone without a
hitch and Will couldn't come to terms with it. Every step he took he was expecting
something diabolical to happen. They hesitated in the foyer of the entrance.
"You go first Alec. I'll reset the alarm and make sure the door is locked. See
you back at the car."
The act of setting the alarm took only seconds and Will released the lock on
the door and pulled it closed. The clicking action of the door interrupted the still
night, but it also seemed to provoke a violent, noisy reaction, in the driveway.
Shouts and scuffling continued for a few more seconds as Will froze in the
doorway behind the shrubs.
He stared down the driveway only to see Alec wrestled to the ground by three
men. They were not in police uniform, probably from a private security firm. As
he watched they started to kick him and stomp on his back. Will could feel every
impact as his mind flashed back to the beating he had received from the military
policemen in Chesapeake Bay. He felt the overwhelming impulse to go to Alec's
assistance but the sudden realization that he was also in danger descended on him.
The activity, as they began to secure Alec, was coming to an end and one of the
men had started to look around.
There was only one way to go and Will took off in the direction that would
take him to the back of the house. Tightly gripping the small document pouch, he
precariously made his way over the rocky beds that had been purposely placed
there to prevent the soil from eroding down the steep incline. Skidding, and
sometimes falling to his knees in an endeavour to get away, he was at the same
time, trying to control the panic that was taking over.
The rocks unexpectedly changed to flat concrete and he realized that he had
stumbled on to a porch with low brick walls on two sides. He stood looking for
an exit that would take him out of harm's way, but at that instance the lights from
the windows above flooded the area.
Pure instinct, and the desire to survive commanded him to leap over the wall
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into the darkness below. It could only have been two seconds but it seemed much
longer as he felt the sensation of falling. There was even enough time to conjure up
the thought "if I fall much further I'm dead" before his body hit the ground amongst
the beds below and rolled uncontrollably down the steep incline into the cover of
a large Rhododendron bush, some thirty feet or so below.
Lying there, bruised and battered, but thankful to still be in one piece he
looked through the leaves to see two of the men leaning over the brick wall
scanning the area below. They must be private security. The police wouldn't have
keys for the house, but how did they happen to be on the spot at precisely that
time? There could only be one plausible answer.
Somewhere in that house they must have tripped an alarm that was connected
back to the company. Something that Paul obviously didn't know about. The lights
above went out and after a couple of minutes it felt safe to painfully make his way
back towards the road where Alec's car was parked. Before leaving the security
of the trees he looked across towards the roadway to see a car pull out of the rear
driveway.
They would have Alec in there, and he would probably still be receiving the
treatment. He felt for Alec, although under normal circumstances and considering
what Alec did for a living the thought did not feel right, but at that moment it
seemed appropriate. They had no need to beat him up like that. Alec was a real
passive type.
Brushing himself down and making sure that the coast was clear Will stepped
out on to the road. Alec's car was where they had left it but he walked right by.
The police would no doubt pick it up later.
Heading for the electric suburban railway station at Beaumaris he caught a
train going north along the coast road to the city. Trains were running every half
hour and he soon changed to the only destination that would serve his purpose,
Park Orchards, a twenty minute walk from Margaret's house.
It was around 10.30 p.m. by the time he climbed the last two hundred yards
up the incline. He felt as though his body was fighting every painful movement.
Climbing the stairs he knocked loudly on the door. There was no sound of
movement, but he knew that she was in, as he had passed her car below. A
graphic thought appeared from out of his memory. Was she pointing a shotgun at
the door? It would be the ultimate irony after all he had gone through, to be blasted
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with pellets!
"It's me, Will Brenner!" He shouted it out to discount any question.
Hasty footsteps approached the door and it opened. Margaret was standing
there, a shocked look on her face. "My God, what's happened to you, where's
Alec?"
Will made a beeline for the settee and collapsed full length on to it, only to find
he was lying on the document pouch which he had stuffed into his jacket. He
reached underneath him and pulled the documents out passing them to Margaret.
"There's your precious documents. I hope you find that they come up to your
expectations and that everything's been worth while."
"Don't make me feel bad Will. Is Alec alright?"
"Yes, he got caught by the Garner private security personnel. They gave him
a going over before they took him away, so I don't suppose he'll be feeling too hot
right now either. They will have given him over to the cops by now."
"Did you get away from them?"
"Fortunately they didn't know I was there and Alec wouldn't let on. It was only
a matter of evading them in the grounds, and I got out after they'd left."
"You don't look in very good shape. Do you want to stay here until you feel
better?"
"No, I must get home. I don't want Dorothy asking questions. I'll just sponge
my clothes down and have a quick wash and brush up."
During the fifteen minutes drive home Margaret talked about the documents.
"They are exactly what we expected and crucial that they never get into anyone
else's hands. Knowing that they are floating around out there somewhere, he'll be
waiting for them to surface in the form of blackmail. It will stop him." She paused
for a moment. "Don't worry about Alec. We'll have him out of custody within a
couple of weeks. They'll keep him at the Melbourne jail whilst he's awaiting trial,
but it won't come to that."
"Can you arrange for me to see him?"
"I'll arrange a time and date within a couple of days."
They pulled into the service road at the Vermont junction. "I'd like to talk to
you more Will, but you've had enough for one day. In any case, some of the things
I have to say you would object to."
"I guess we'd better leave things as they are then."
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Dorothy had already retired and Will sat in the quiet of the lounge-room. His
body and mind were going through a violent change and he waited for it to abate
before going to bed. Sinking into the mattress the pressures he had been carrying
for the last few hours floated away into space.
The following day Paul was waiting on the yacht, an anxious look on his face
as Will approached. "There was an incident at the house. Did something go
wrong?"
"In one way yes, but as far as you're concerned everything went well."
"I don't understand."
"It's all over Paul, you won't be bothered anymore." There eyes met but he
had a look of disbelief on his face. It could only be expected after all he had gone
through. "Believe me Paul, it's all over. Go get yourself a life."
He suddenly let go and stepping forward gripped Will in an embrace. Will
broke free and hastily looked around and then back at Paul. "Steady on old chap,
folks will get the impression that we are a pair of pufters!"
They both laughed and shook hands. "That's better," was Will's parting remark
as he left the yacht.
As Margaret promised, an arrangement was made for him to meet Alec at the
Melbourne jail. They brought him into a bare visiting room. Just four walls, a table
and two chairs. He looked relaxed and they both smiled as he entered. The
arrangement was for them to be left alone and the guard left, closing the door
behind him. Will put his finger up to his lips. "Speak in a whisper, they may have
the room bugged."
"Trust you Will Brenner."
"How are you?"
"Just fine. It's like coming back for a holiday."
"Margaret tells me she'll have you out of here in a couple of weeks."
His face lit up. "That's good, I don't mind a couple of weeks. It will give me
a chance to recuperate."
Will realized how little he knew of this man. Did he have anyone, or was he a
complete loner? He would probably never know. They had very little in common
except for the capers with the organization, but these occasions were so
demanding of their personalities, that in an odd sort of way they were inexplicably
drawn together. They talked for a while longer before he was lead away.
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He didn't know it then, but this would be his last association with Alec.
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Chapter 15
The Final Straw
Will’s association with Margaret became strained, and from time to time
challenged, but she never wavered from their original arrangement however,
no matter how bumpy things got, and thankfully, Will's family were kept
isolated from the darker side of his life. Struggling from one shady venture to
the next gave no indication of the trauma that lay ahead, which would be
instrumental in turning their lives permanently upside down.
Melbourne's water resources were drawn from reservoirs in the mountain
ranges on the east side of the city. Part of his work involved the upkeep of the
electronic monitoring and control there. The locations were isolated and the
electronics avoided the need for anyone to be in day-to-day attendance. Will
loved to get up there amongst the serenity of the countryside. The views across
water to the surrounding forest were breathtaking.
On this particular morning, after his service vehicle had climbed up the
mountain side, Will turned on to a small plateau next to the main building. He
got out and stood for a few minutes looking across the lake, taking in the sight.
His was the only vehicle there and with only one way in and out, he had the
place to himself. He was looking forward to a pleasant hour, during which time
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he would take the opportunity of having lunch in this quiet setting.
Mounting the steel stairway he entered the building. Tall windows on either
side flooded the interior with light, giving it the atmosphere akin to the inside
of a large greenhouse. The floors and walls that were not taken up by glass
were bare, except for a single line of grey steel cabinets, six feet high by four
feet wide, stretching along the centre of the whole length of the room. They
contained the electronics for controlling the water gates and recording the
various environmental parameters, water levels, etcetera.
Walking towards the far end of the building he could hear the sharp
clicking of the contactors intermittently operating, but by the time he had
reached the farthest cabinet, the roaring noise of the water, cascading over the
spillway increased to the point of shutting out all other sounds.
Opening the end cabinet with a security key he arranged his test gear
preparatory to getting started. All his work would be concentrated here. The
440 volt 3-phase bus entered at this point, so he slipped on his rubber
insulating gloves to avoid getting an electric shock. It would be fatal under the
circumstances with no one to come to his aid.
Unplugging the live 440 volt link, he placed it in it's isolating rack on the
door. From this point on, his concentration would have to be total, to see the
job through without incident. After about forty-five minutes he removed his test
gear and kneeling next to his equipment box he proceeded to stow the gear
away. All that remained would be to reinsert the live link and lock the doors.
Closing the box catches Will stood upright when a man stepped into his
line of sight, midway between where he was standing and the spillway railing.
He was completely taken by surprise and the reaction caused him to jump.
Quickly gaining his composure he recognized the figure.
It was Dan, the agent that had given him trouble in the past. There was no
mistaking, it was definitely him, and he had a queer smile on his face that could
only have been interpreted as a sneer. Dressed in a casual jacket and Fletcher
Jones pants his right hand was pushed deep into the jacket pocket, an ominous
sign.
"What are you doing here Dan, does Margaret know you're here?"
"No, she doesn't know I'm here. No one knows I'm here."
Will's mind began to race. He had nowhere to escape except into the open
confines of the building. Two or three paces would be all he could expect
before Dan had that gun out of his pocket. A dread was creeping over him as
he began to read into his mind the inevitability of what was going to happen.
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"What can I do for you Dan?"
Dan's face hardened and he shuffled from one foot to the other. The mere
fact that he was hesitating seemed to be a godsend. It wasn't changing Will's
desperate plight any, but it was giving him precious breathing space to try to
extradite himself from the situation that he was in. He stepped back, closer to
the electronic equipment rack.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see the 440 volt copper bus prongs
which were still exposed and electrically alive, but the trailing cables were too
short for him to use the high voltage rack as a weapon. His movement
instigated a reaction from Dan and in the next moment Will was looking down
the barrel of the same pistol he had seen that night at Margaret's house. The
circumstances were ominously different this time however, with the gun trained
directly at his chest.
"It's pay back time Brenner, your turn to suffer the consequences." The
pistol barrel moved slightly to the left. "Get away from the racks!"
Everything was happening in seconds, but to Will it seemed that slow
motion was in effect. He moved away from the racks out into the open and
Dan took up the position that Will had vacated and he was about to find out
why. "It's going to look like you were careless and accidentally got
electrocuted."
"No one will ever believe that, I'm too good at my job."
"There's always a first time for everything and I'll make certain this is
yours!" His eyes were jumping all over the place, trying to evaluate the
contents of the cabinet, at the same time keeping Will in the sights of his gun.
He hasn't got a clue what he's looking at, Will was thinking. Dan's left
hand was getting perilously close to the high voltage prongs. Will was praying
for the obvious and within a flash it happened.
Intending to open the cabinet door to give better access for what he
wanted to do Dan grasped the rack. His body shook violently as the 440 volt
electrical current passed through his body and with each convulsion the pistol
in his right hand discharged. The sound of bullets ricochetted around the
building, but the sharpness of their echoes were dulled by the roaring of the
water rushing over the spillway, only a few paces away.
The next violent contraction of Dan's body propelled him away from the
cabinet and he rolled over and over on the floor before coming to rest only two
or three feet from where Will was standing. He's got to be dead after being
charged with that much electricity. Will stood transfixed waiting for signs, but
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it was a mistake! Dan started to move and he was still holding the gun.
Fear galvanized Will into action and he fell with all the weight of his body
and knees on to Dan's chest. He's got to be weak from the electric shock! But
he started to counter with his left hand and Will could see that it was badly
burnt where he had grabbed the live rod.
What he didn't expect was the full impact of Dan's gun as it slammed into
his back. It hurt, but the weapon was dislodged on impact, and it fell to the
floor sliding out of reach. The two men rolled towards the spillway railing,
locked in a struggle for survival.
Where was Dan getting the strength to fight? Will felt the steel upright of
the railing against his back. A split second glance downwards revealed the
gushing torrent of water as it projected outwards with the force, before falling
into the waters, some sixty or seventy feet below.
Dan careered onwards and under the lower tubular railing, his body and
legs hanging over the steep concrete incline. He was gripping Will's forearms
like steel clamps and it was only the upright that was preventing them both
from falling into the spillway. Dan briefly looked down into the turmoil below
and then back up at Will, a look of terror on his face. His hands slipped from
Will's forearms to the rubber gloves that he was still wearing, a look of despair
came over his face and he shouted over the roar of the water. "I'm sorry Will,
please save me!"
In the next instance his hands slipped over the shiny surface of the rubber
gloves. Lying on his side Will watched as Dan plummeted down the smooth
concrete incline of the spillway wall, his hands outstretched like a sky-diver
that had just left the aeroplane. His fingers were making tracks in the green
algae covered wall all the way down, until he disappeared into the boiling
water below.
Will looked beyond into the calmer waters, but Dan didn't appear, not that
he expected him to. He would be dragged down into the undercurrent and
caught up in the baffle system, which was designed to slow up the force of the
torrent.
His body started to shake violently and he gripped the railing with all his
force to try and reduce it's effect. There was no way that he would be able to
stand until the shaking subsided. A feeling of sickness mixed with sheer relief
came over him when he eventually pulled himself up into the upright position,
and staggered uncertainly back towards the cabinet. His hands were shaking
so badly it took several attempts before he could get the high voltage link
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reinserted. Twice it nearly slipped out of his hands which would have caused
a major problem.
Slamming and locking the door Will picked up his instrument case and
prepared to leave. He was drawn like a magnet however, back to the spillway
railing. Dan's body had not emerged. The lake beyond the spillway looked as
placid as before.
His brain was numb registering nothing as he made the long walk back
through the empty building to the entrance door. But with each step the
hypnotic effect of the rushing water down the spillway receded into the
background and his mind gradually started to clear.
Approaching the door he changed the instrument case over to his left hand
but the loud bang of a car door closing, stopped him in his stride. Quickly
moving to one of the windows alongside the door he peered down on to the
small car-park. A black Mercedes car was parked on the opposite side to his
own vehicle and a man dressed in dark clothing was walking briskly towards
the building. It must be Dan's accomplice!
His heart stopped and he trembled at the thought of another skirmish. He
may not be so lucky this time! There was virtually no place to hide except on
the other side of the cabinets, with the hope that the man would not choose
that side to walk. With his back pressed against the rear of the cabinets he
waited, his heart beating like a drum.
The door opened but didn't close and he listened with relief as he
registered the sound of footsteps on the other side. Then they stopped. "Are
you there Dan?" then excruciating silence followed by more footsteps.
The voice got louder and more urgent. "Answer me Dan!" The footsteps
got softer and softer as they were dampened by rushing water. He must be
getting close to the far end of the building. It was time to move.
Trying to control his exit through the partially open door failed as the catch
on his instrument case caught on the edge of the door, pulling it closed with a
bang. It was a scramble to get back to his vehicle and he prayed as he inserted
the ignition key. The big six litre engine sprang into life "thanks Paddy!" he said
out loud, the Irish chief mechanic always kept his vehicle in tiptop condition.
He reversed to turn but as he looked back towards the building Dan's
associate was running down the stairway. He had a gun in his hand.
Will hit the accelerator spinning his wheels and the gravel stones flew into
the air. His mind was racing and he was finding it impossible to formulate a
plan. He was driving like a madman trying to get as much distance between
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Will Bonner
himself and the Mercedes, which would soon be hot on his tail. His motor was
powerful, and he knew every inch of the way back down the mountain, but a
glance in his rear vision mirror made him jump with anxiety.
The Mercedes was following about a hundred yards behind. Damn! He
pushed harder on the accelerator and his driving got more reckless by the
second. If only he could be picked up by the police! That was wishful thinking
and he knew it. They were never around when you really needed them.
The two cars raced down the narrow mountain road. There was no way
the Mercedes could overtake, he was no doubt waiting for Will to skid off the
road or breakdown. The steep downward spiral changed into the undulations
of the foothills and the surface to tarmac, which began to widen out. Red
banks of clay on either side of the road flashed by as the cars screamed
through the cuttings.
It was a nightmare trying to keep tabs on the Mercedes through the rear
vision mirror and at the same time keep from steering off the road. Every
manoeuvre needed split second timing. The Mercedes was suddenly looming
large in the rear mirror and Will moved to the centre of the road to stop it from
overtaking but he didn't expect it to appear on his inside.
Looking through the passenger window he found himself staring directly
into the face of Dan's accomplice. He was smiling and getting ready to wrench
the steering wheel over and crash the cars, there was only one way to go and
Will didn't hesitate. Steering his car off the road and up the steep bank, he
found himself speeding through the bush, six foot high tee trees and saplings
were hitting the front of the vehicle and then snapping and crunching as they
passed underneath.
The car was proceeding at a crazy angle. If I stop it will probably roll over!
It only lasted seconds before a three foot diameter tree appeared in his path.
He could take no evasive action as the vehicle ploughed into it, the hood and
fender wrapping themselves around into a perfect semi-circle. Small tree
branches rained down on to the steel top like hail, and Will sat waiting for it to
stop. His whole body felt numb and stiff, it was a miracle the windshield had
not shattered, not even a crack. He looked in the mirror. There was no blood
and he could move his legs, but his left hand was refusing to loosen it's grip on
the steering wheel, so he physically pried the fingers loose.
Pushing open the door he fell out on to the ground which was littered with
dead branches that had fallen from the tree. From the prone position he looked
back along the track that the vehicle had beaten through the bush.
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Dan's accomplice was picking his way through the broken branches. He
had a gun in his right hand. Will closed his eyes and for a split moment in time
he felt the urge to succumb to the inevitable and just lie there, but the faces of
his family flashed like vivid pictures in his brain. Getting painfully into the
kneeling position he postured himself for whatever he had to do when another
miracle occurred. The man quickly put the gun back into his pocket.
Will could hear noises to his left and a man and woman appeared through
the bush. Dan's accomplice called out "I'll leave you to look after him!" he then
turned and disappeared into the trees.
They helped him on to his feet. "Can you walk?"
"Yes, but please get the registration number of that man's car, he's a
witness. It's down on the road." The woman walked over to the bank and
peered down and Will heard the roar of the Mercedes exhaust as it drove
away at high speed.
Within half an hour he was being x-rayed at the nearest doctor's surgery.
All he had sustained was a broken wrist. There was a small ante-room next to
the surgery, furnished with a couple of armchairs, and Will was asked to make
himself comfortable in there for the next hour or so to enable the nursing staff
to keep him under observation, in case there were any after effects from the
accident.
He sat there struggling to put all the pieces back together again. Dan's last
words and the look on his face as he slipped down the spillway wall kept
vividly surfacing, coupled with all the other trauma's that had happened during
the last hour. At the first opportunity, he would have to see Margaret, and get
the whole incident sorted out.
His sanity slowly began to return and the horrible thought that his family
may also have been in danger descended on him like a black cloud. He
stormed back into the surgery. "I have to get home immediately, I must see my
family!" he was shaking from head to toe. The nurses steered him back into the
ante-room. "You're going into shock Mr. Brenner, you'll have to rest back."
He felt the hypodermic needle pierce his skin. "This injection will help you
relax."
If only they knew what he was thinking. I'll have to find a way out of here!
He started to lose consciousness and he couldn't fight it. Crazy explosions
were happening in his brain and it seemed only seconds before he opened his
eyes again. Turning his head he thought he saw a familiar face, but it was out
of focus. It must be a dream! then there was a voice, Margaret's voice. No,
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Will Bonner
it wasn't a dream! "Are you awake Will? How are you feeling?"
Will felt the relief envelop him, at last now that Margaret was here he could
get things resolved. He struggled to get up, but he was restrained. "My family!
I must know if they are alright?"
"They're all fine Will, try and relax."
His head and vision were clearing rapidly now and he was gaining his
composure. Margaret sat opposite him her legs crossed, dressed in the same
outfit she had been wearing when conducting operations at the Byer residence
that night.
"I see you're dressed in your catering outfit, have you managed to get
another job?"
She smiled. "No."
"I notice you haven't brought your boy friend with you." She smiled again.
"I'm glad to see that you're back to your old self. There's someone coming
to take you home so we haven't got much time. Is it alright to talk, do you feel
up to it?" They were now alone in the room and there was little or no activity
going on in the surgery.
"I guess there's no time like the present."
"Where's Dan?"
Will hesitated. He didn't want to talk about what had happened but he
knew he must. Margaret was the only person in the world that could help him.
"How did you know that Dan was around?"
She ignored his question. "I must know where he is." Will turned his head
away, the whole incident at the spillway was circulating in his mind and he
started to shiver. Margaret walked over to him a look of concern on her face.
She put her hand on his shoulder as if to quell the shaking. "My God,
something terrible has happened hasn't it?" Will nodded.
"Have you killed him?"
"No."
"But he is dead, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"How did it happen?"
"He followed me up to the reservoir to kill me. We fought like we did at
your house and fortunately for me he lost again. He finished up down the
spillway ramp. His body will be trapped in the baffles under the water until
tonight, when the control mechanism closes off the water and opens the baffles,
and his body will float out into the lake." Will proceeded to go through the
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details of exactly what happened from start to finish. Margaret walked back
to her chair and sat down, her face lifeless.
"He had an accomplice."
She stood up again a look of astonishment on her face. "There's more
then. Is he dead too?"
"No, he chased me down the mountain in a black Mercedes." Will reached
into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and passed it over to her "that's
the registration number." Margaret leaned forward in anticipation. "He forced
me off the road and I ploughed through the bush before hitting a tree. He was
about to finish what Dan had tried to do, but he was disturbed."
Margaret slumped back into her chair and Will waited for her to respond.
Neither party spoke as they attempted to come to grips with what had
happened.
"Don't worry about Dan, we can sort that out without any trouble.
Regarding his accomplice, I know who that will be. You won't have any further
trouble with him."
Will's mind was now beginning to take over and he was thinking logically
again. "Why did you ask for Dan? You knew he was around, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me, he could have harmed my family!"
"We thought we had everything under control. I had your family under
surveillance."
"All the family?"
"Yes, the children were okay but there was someone paying your wife a
lot of attention at the office. There could have been some connection with Dan.
I thought he was trying to gain her confidence and then do her some harm, so
I had him followed."
"Well?"
"It was nothing, he had no connection and we lost valuable time in the
process, allowing Dan to get to you. I'm sorry Will."
Confusion set in, and Will felt the full force of the realization that his earlier
predictions about his family's involvement, had very nearly come true.
"Did Dorothy know what was going on?"
"No."
"Thank God for that. This is the final straw, I'm going to have to do
something dramatic to get things back to normal. I can't carry on like this!"
There was a commotion outside and Margaret moved towards the door.
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"We'll leave you alone. Let me know what you decide to do and if you need
help, phone me." A troubled calm came over him. He knew that Margaret
would get everything sorted out with the authorities.
His wrist was beginning to ache like a bad tooth. The doctor had been
puzzled about the bruise on his back where Dan had hit him with the pistol. It
would have to remain a mystery.
Dorothy was home when he arrived. She had been given the news of his
accident by phone and the office was only minutes away. There was nothing
much he could tell her except about the actual accident and his encounter with
the tree. The children seemed to appear out of nowhere and their activity filled
the house.
He sat watching them as they went about their daily routines getting ready
to utilize the remainder of the daylight hours. It was too difficult to comprehend
the violence that Dan could have subjected them to, had he reached that stage.
The relief to see them unharmed was so overpowering he could have walked
across and taken both of them in his arms, but he held back, frightened of the
response he may evoke. Whatever he decided to do, their lives would be
turned upside down. How could he do it without telling them everything?
Will stayed home for the next few weeks to allow the fracture to heal. As
time passed by, his mind became more tormented at not being able to solve the
problem that obsessed him. He had to find a way to get his family away from
the environment of the organization. Dorothy finally provided the answer.
Both Dorothy's and Will's respective mothers had been quite ill and in
hospital. They had not been home to England since emigrating over nineteen
years ago, and the children had not met their grandparents. She suggested that
they should go for as long as was necessary and after taking all things into
consideration it was decided that they sell the house and buy another when
they got back. It was now only a matter of putting it to the children.
They sat in the lounge-room as Dorothy started to explain, a look of blank
expectation on their faces. Will concentrated his attention on Louise, she was
the quiet serious one, and his heart sank as he observed that look of
despondency appear on her face, when the full realization of what was
happening struck home. It was the same look he had experienced leaving her
with Ivan's family when Mark was born. She was only eighteen months old
then but she was registering the same sort of objection. They were both
apprehensive about leaving, especially Louise.
Will felt bad about what was happening and it was dragging him down into
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a situation where he was beginning to get second thoughts. He had to put these
negative connotations out of his mind but it was hard without telling them the
truth. The organization was far from perfect and their wellbeing rested directly
on him. Would they ever forgive him if things went wrong after their arrival in
England?
The passenger liner bookings were arranged months ahead. He visited
Margaret a month before sailing. She had kept her promise after the incident
with Dan, there had been no attempts to make contact. He decided to see her
at the office and took time off for the occasion not wanting to rush their final
meeting and leave without tying up all the loose ends.
It was mid to late morning when he entered the office. The girl in the
reception gave him a knowing smile. She's under the impression that he had
something going with Margaret. If only she knew what was really happening,
that Margaret used the office as a front, and the girl herself, used as a
respectable part for her other activities. "You know where to go Mr. Brenner.
Mrs. Collins is expecting you."
Knocking on the door of the now familiar room at the rear of the offices,
Will opened the door and went in. She was sitting in one of the easy chairs
impeccably dressed, and obviously relaxed. She beckoned for him to sit
opposite. There was a pre-emptive silence and Will recognized immediately
that the chemistry between them was different, the air clear of any expectations
of conflict or subversive thoughts.
"Have you come to tell me what you've decided to do?"
"Yes."
She was staring at him an expectant look in her eyes, he felt awkward.
This would probably be his last visit with her. "Is there something wrong Will?"
"No. Why do you ask?"
"You haven't taken a shot at me since you arrived, that's most unusual!"
"Forgive me Margaret, I made the arrangement to see you here for your
convenience, but I realize now that I've made a mistake. I can't talk here in
your office."
His last remark would normally have instigated a reaction of indignation
from her, but it was not forthcoming. She smiled instead. "You think the office
is bugged, I can give you my word that it isn't."
"I believe you, but to be frank I don't think you would know. Adam must
be so proficient by now and there must be a dozen places where he could
plant one or more." Will raised his voice. "I'll raise my voice to make it easier
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for you Adam!" He pointed towards the door and they left the office leaving
instructions with the girl in the reception.
Little Collins Street was far from deserted, but in comparison to most days
at that time, there were few people about. "Where are you taking me Will?
We can't talk in the street."
"It's only a few minutes walk to the Treasury Gardens, it will be quiet
there."
They started to walk up the hill towards Exhibition and Spring Streets. "I
must talk to you about Adam, my performance back there was not paranoia.
If somebody gets to him you'll lose everything. Haven't you wondered why he
hasn't given you a bug detector?"
She stopped dead in her stride. "Trust you to tell me what I should already
know. If you leave Melbourne I'll miss you Will Brenner." She hesitated.
"You are leaving Melbourne?"
"Yes." They started walking again.
"I'll still be able to get in touch?"
"No, I'm taking the family back to England."
She stopped again. "There was no need to be that drastic, I could provide
all the protection you wanted."
Will looked into her eyes. "Guaranteed?"
Her eyes blinked and she looked down. "I wouldn't let you carry the
burden, especially after Dan's attempt."
"It's decided anyway, we're sailing next month. Incidentally, what
happened about Dan and his mate?"
"As you know we have good contacts and legal channels at police
headquarters. Dan's body was picked up and everything's been dealt with. His
accomplice was a well known criminal from Sydney, he'll be behind bars for
a good while. The Criminal Investigation Department in New South Wales
were delighted to have him back. He was wanted for other crimes."
They walked through the small iron gate and entered the gardens. It was
practically deserted with very few people about. The gardens were completely
surrounded by a high brick wall, it was quiet and serene. They sat looking
across the grass and flower beds.
"About Adam."
"What about Adam?"
"Go to Sydney and see the team leader, ask him to get you a bug detector
- a good one. Don't let the others know you have it. Learn how to use it
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proficiently. Ask Adam to plant a bug somewhere, then get him occupied
elsewhere while you go in and find it. It will test your ability. Don't forget, bugs
are sometimes planted so that they can be found easily, so that you'll stop
looking. If you find one look for another. Sooner or later everybody will be
eavesdropping for one reason or another. If you want any help see me before
I go."
"I'll do everything you say Will. It's got to be good for my own security,
and also a warning not to be complacent."
"It might be best to take a closer look at what Adam's up to."
She looked across at Will. "Do you remember the night we first met in St.
Kilda?"
"Very well!"
"There's been a lot of water pass under the bridge since then."
"Yes, mostly troubled water!"
She nodded and the conversation faded. It would not be a good thing to
get into reminiscing, but there were certain things that had to be said.
"When Ed Blake was killed and you took over I anticipated a lot of
problems with you. I was completely wrong and I want to thank you for
honouring our arrangement, keeping my family on the outside meant everything
to me. In appreciation, I would like to give you something before I leave."
A quizzical look came over Margaret's face. "You've bought me a
present."
"Much more than that." Will reached inside his coat and removed a large
manilla envelope passing it across to her. She looked down at it and then back
to Will. "Before you open it I'll explain how I came to get it and what it
contains, you can then access the value of the information for yourself."
"You're going to keep surprising me right up to the end Will Brenner."
"During a heated exchange with Ed one evening, I extracted information
from him about his use of contacts from outside the organization and his words
still ring in my ears to this day. He said "if they found out about me I wouldn't
be able to carry on." When he was killed I had a good idea that he would
have had a list somewhere and that Tony probably found it when he was going
through his personal effects. It only took a mild threat to get a copy out of him
and I've been keeping it ever since for insurance." Margaret's eyes were
beginning to widen.
Will continued. "Two things may happen. Tony could use the information
against you, but worse than that, as I've said before Tony's weak, and if
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someone extracts the information from him by whatever means, it would blow
the Melbourne part of the organization wide open. You'll have to take drastic
measures. Send Tony on a job to another state if necessary, and while he's
gone break into his apartment and recover the document. Do it yourself, don't
use Alec. When Tony finds out it's gone he'll just be scared and he may even
come to you for help."
A few moments of silence elapsed as Margaret looked down at the
envelope. Slowly opening the flap she removed the contents. Will watched as
she scanned down the list.
"My God, this is even more potent than you described. It could be a
devastating piece of information in the wrong hands!" She gazed across the
park a blank look on her face. "Why have you passed it on? You had no
need."
"I don't give a damn about the organization, but I couldn't carry on
knowing that it could hurt you personally, wondering from time to time whether
you were in jail, or something even worse. I've kept a copy, so to my
knowledge there's only Tony, yourself and me that know the information
exists."
"Have you any more surprises up your sleeve for me?"
"No. I'll have to get going."
Margaret opened her handbag and put the envelope away. She passed him
a card. "If you ever get into trouble in England contact my personal number."
she said pointing to it. "The other number is a special one just in case you fail
to get me. But try to phone during the night, I have a phone next to my bed."
Will got up to leave. "There's just a couple of things I have to tell you."
"Well I suppose it's your turn to spring a surprise."
"I'll have to inform the organization in the U.K. that you've left. If I don't,
it could be detrimental for you."
"I can deal with that. What's the other thing?"
Taking him completely by surprise she quickly leaned forward and kissed
him on the cheek as she had done once before. "I wanted to thank you once
again for saving my life Will Brenner. I'll never forget it and I'll never forget
you."
Will abruptly turned and walked away, he felt that he was wrenching
himself from a relationship that was difficult to equate. He stopped at the gate
and turned. Margaret was still standing motionless in the same spot. She had
tears in her eyes. The urge to go back came over him but he suppressed it, he
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just nodded his head, closed the gate and made his way towards downtown.
He was oblivious to the noise of the traffic and the people around him. The
full realization of what he had experienced was beginning to dawn on him. He
was at last free of the organization at least here in Melbourne, and he could
now concentrate on getting all the loose ends tied up at home before finally
leaving.
Within two days of the "For Sale" notice being erected the house was sold,
with the arrangement that they could continue living in it until the day of their
departure. This, coupled with the fact that neighbours and friends helped out
in every respect, as they disposed of their possessions, took away most of the
stress of leaving.
The day of departure was one of brilliant sunshine. The family stood for the
last time looking up the driveway at a home that Dorothy and Will had lived
and brought a family up in for sixteen years. It felt as though a giant magnet
was trying to pull them back inside.
The embarkation at the docks in South Melbourne was bedlam, thousands
of people pushing and shoving on the decks. After lunch Will made his way
down to the cabin but as he turned the corner into the corridor Margaret
suddenly appeared. "I had to tell you personally that I managed to get the list
from Tony's apartment."
"Where's Tony now?"
"He's away."
"Have you destroyed it?"
"Yes."
"I'm pleased and relieved."
He watched as she made her way down to the quay disappearing into the
crowd. What was to become of her? A sophisticated woman in a devious,
dangerous, and sometimes violent profession. He shrugged off the thought.
For the next month during the voyage to England it would be "just family."
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Chapter 16
Official Secrets
It was strange to be back at sea again after all these years. The throb of the
engines and the smells wafting through the companion ways however, had not
changed. Confronted by the sharp contrast of cool, brisk air, as he walked out on
deck, and the motion under his feet, made him wonder how long it would be
before his stomach would be turning over. It was too much to expect for things to
be different in that regard.
He watched the familiar landmarks slip by as they sailed down Port Philip Bay.
Their first stop would be Sydney, and Dorothy's brother and family were travelling
down by car from Port Macquarie, to see them briefly before the ship sailed on
to Auckland, New Zealand, and then to the port of Suva, in Fiji.
They travelled up the Reewa river in a motorized canoe to see a native village.
It was the first time Louise and Mark had been outside the Australian environment.
Will carried his 8 mm movie and coloured slide cameras taking lots of pictures. By
the end of the voyage he would have taken over three hundred slides and several
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hundred feet of movie film.
Los Angeles and Disneyland, Acapulco, the Panama Canal and finally Fort
Lauderdale, Florida, would all be visited before the trip across the Atlantic to
Southampton, England. Their final destination.
During this last week the choppy seas were adding to Will's problems and he
was beginning to feel down. The sale of their house in Melbourne had not been
completed when they sailed, so the prospect of not having funds available to them
in England, haunted him on a day-to-day basis.
All the other unknowns they were going to be subjected to after they landed
were also struggling to get clarified in his mind, without any success. His worst
fear however, was the organization. Ferret man would no doubt still be around and
he would know everything by now. In contrast to living in Australia, his total family
and relatives would be concentrated here and he was getting the feeling that he
was walking into the biggest problem he could imagine. There was no turning
back, at least, not for awhile, as in the past he would just have to cope with
whatever transpired. Contracting a chest cold put the final touches to his
downward spiral, before they finally landed.
During the next few weeks getting reacquainted with their respective families
was good, but for the children it must have been a nightmare. Everyone was living
out of suitcases and subjected to sleeping in one small bedroom. Louise and Mark
had come from surroundings that were all relatively new and now most everything
was old. It must have been quite a shock to their systems. After buying a new
house on the outskirts of a small market town Will found a position with an
electronic’s company and the outlook for all the family started to improve.
Will's mind had been consumed with efforts to keep the family functioning as
a unit. Now his mind began to entertain thoughts of the organization.
His work involved regular hours, totally confined to the electronics laboratories
and he did not travel. Based on past history they would have no need for him
under the circumstances. The niggling thoughts remained however, it was surely
only a matter of time before they contacted him.
A mechanical engineering section provided all the tools, jigs and fixtures
necessary to support the electronics. Engineers in the tool-room were giving the
company a lot of trouble and the unions were having a heyday. Strikes were being
threatened and the disruption was throwing everything out of gear. Will was
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attending the meetings that were designed to try and avert the unthinkable. Union
representatives from outside would float in and out of the establishment making it
difficult at times to comprehend who was who. For this reason he wasn't
surprised when a man wearing a dark blue mackintosh walked into his small testroom
and closed the door behind him.
He was extremely thin, a deathly pallor to his skin, the bony angulations of his
face perfectly outlined. His shoes were petite and the picture of an oversized
ventriloquist’s dummy sprang into Will’s mind. The face however was not smiling,
only taut and severe. Will, about to open the conversation was cut short.
“You’re Will Brenner aren’t you?”
The phrase echoed deep into his past, right back to the contact made by the
correspondent on the ship in Algiers, and it always carried the same connotation,
like a chess player's gambit.
"Yes, I'm Will Brenner. What can I do for you?"
"Nothing at the moment. But you know where I'm from don't you?"
"Yes I do." Will was quelling the rising fear mixed with antagonism. He had to
keep control over his feelings until he knew more about what was developing.
"What's your name and what have you come for then?"
The thin man ignored the last part of Will's question. "We've studied your
dossier from Australia and thought it time to make contact."
Will remembered Margaret's warning to him about contacting the organization
in the U.K. "Are you the contact then?"
"No, there won't be a contact, you'll just follow instructions."
Will's brain was working overtime trying to assess what was happening and
it was becoming plain to him that they were probably going to adopt a policy of
keeping him isolated. If that turned out to be true he would not have the luxury of
being able to make arrangements or negotiate himself through a particular episode,
as he had been used to in Australia. He would be back to square one as in the
Aden incident days. It was a disturbing thought.
"What if I don't want to follow instructions?"
The thin man moved closer to emphasis his point. "After all these years you
know the answer to that." Will felt at a complete disadvantage, how much of his
past did this man know? His visitor turned on his heel and opened the door to
leave. He didn't even turn his head to deliver a parting remark. "You'll be hearing
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from us."
The vacant doorway was suddenly filled by another figure. There had been no
time to gain his composure. It was Henry Goldsmith, the chief design engineer.
"Who the hell was that Will? He looked like something from an undertaker's
parlour, was he from the union?"
"Probably, he was asking directions."
"I've called to see you about the variation in Ramp voltage you're getting in the
accel circuit."
Will's brain was battling to get back to normal after his disturbing meeting with
the thin man. Henry couldn't have come at a worse time. The next few seconds
were embarrassing, but as he gained momentum technically, everything but the
electronics got pushed out of his mind.
Thoughts of the organization however, would now become more prominent
in his mind. When would they make contact again? Next week, next month, next
year? and what form would it take? The waiting was as torturous as the
involvement. He had built up a picture in Australia which buffered him to some
degree. Here, any future involving the organization was a void that emanated the
worst.
Will enjoyed his work but before very long Britain slipped into a deep
recession and the company shut down. He found himself at home with very limited
contacts to find other work. It was over one and a half years before he eventually
found a way out of his predicament.
Dorothy had found herself a position as typist in an office not very far away
from home and her consistent work habit saved the day financially, during this
troublesome period. The possibility of finding work in an environment where
literally thousands were being put off was practically impossible, and Will turned
to consulting, to try for a way forward.
Eventually, he found himself involved with a company who wanted to develop
it's own products, but did not have any technical knowhow. Very soon the work
demanded his full-time attention and for the next couple of years it became his sole
source of income. It was inevitable that he would eventually join the company and
he did so as a technical director.
During this period they bought an old cottage, a short walk across a field from
Will's office. Louise and Mark were going on to college and university and in the
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process of leaving home to find their own way in the world.
The organization had not made contact since the sudden appearance of the thin
man, but Will had been fully aware that his circumstances had not represented
anything viable for them. Things were now however, changing rapidly. The new
products were being exhibited all over the country and Will was travelling the
length and breadth of the British Isles. He was now talking to people, visiting
establishments and reading documents that were classified. They would surely
soon appear on the scene again.
It had been one of those typical English days, continuous rain accompanied
with gusts of strong wind. He had attended a meeting in the administrative offices
of New Scotland Yard, close to Parliament House in central London, some one
hundred miles away from home. The problem of getting the car parked through the
maze of security added to the strain of driving through the inclement weather. The
meeting had gone well, but it was good to be back in the warm, dry confines of the
office.
It was late evening and the light of day had long since disappeared. Will sat
alone in the empty factory writing up the contents of the meeting, his mind
occasionally punctuated by the sharp rattling of the office doors and windows and
the boom of the metal roll-up vehicle doors at the other end of the building, as the
wind gusts reached their peak.
The turbulence had the effect of transporting his mind back to his mid ocean
experiences at sea. A more familiar sound however, emanated from the reception
area, adjacent to the office. Someone was frantically knocking on the front door,
the clicking of the door handle indicating that they were trying to get in. He always
kept the door locked as a matter of security and for once it was paying off.
Pressed in the corner of the small covered entrance in an endeavour to get
away from the beating rain was a man dressed in dark clothing. He looked up as
Will approached the door anticipating that he would open it. "Will Brenner? he
shouted over the noise of the wind and rain.
"Yes, who are you?"
"Let me in out of the rain."
Will looked past him but could see no other person. Parked on the street
under the light was an old dented car. "Tell me who you are or I won't let you in."
"It's okay. I called at your house and your wife directed me here."
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Will felt the familiar wave of tension pass over him. He now suspected where
this man was coming from and the thought of him calling on Dorothy sent shivers
down his spine. He had no other option but to open the door and let him in.
He was in his mid forties, a thickset man of medium stature. Removing his wet
brimmed hat revealed a full head of black hair which projected out as though he
had just received an electrostatic charge. Will watched as he went about making
himself at home in a coarse pushy way, but before he had a chance to open any
conversation Will launched a verbal attack.
"I know where you're from and I'm going to warn you. Stay away from my
home and family. If you don't, you'll get nothing from me and I'll single you out for
special treatment!"
The man laughed. "You're in no position to single anybody out."
Will suddenly connected with his accent. He was Australian, and he was
beginning to feel that perhaps things may not turn out as bad as he had anticipated.
"You're an Aussie aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I'll know where to come and get you, won't I? You all hang out in Earls Court
in London don't you?" The man didn't answer. "I don't suppose you'll be giving me
your name either?" More silence ensued. "I bet you're with the Australian
Embassy." The faint change in his facial expression was enough to signal that he
had connected, the man looked across the desk at Will.
"I didn't visit your house. I just told you that to get you to open the door."
Will breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Things were at least not as bad as he
had first thought. The Aussie looked across at Will, a quizzical look on his face.
"They didn't tell me that you were an antagonistic bugger."
"Well, that's what you get for pushing people around, what did you expect?
Someone that would do your every bidding?"
"No, but I didn't expect to get threatened!"
"We both know where we stand, so why not get on with what you came to
do."
The Aussie shifted uneasily on his seat, the introductions were over and it was
time to get down to the nitty gritty. Will could practically recite the procedure and
he wasn't far wrong.
"You're going to places and meeting people that can supply valuable
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information for us, do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, I understand."
"You're dealing with fairly high ranking officers in the Royal Air Force and also
the U.S. and you visit their bases."
"Yes, but in these cases the information is classified, especially the hard copy,
and I'm not prepared to put my head on the chopping block."
"We don't want any hard copy, only verbal information gleaned when you're
circulating on the bases, or during telephone conversations. It will not be
connected with the work that you do."
"But it still means that I'll be poking my nose into things that don't concern me,
which will be far more dangerous."
"Yes, but you've done it before and got away with it."
Will paused before answering. "I had a degree of support then, especially in
Australia, but I think you and your colleagues would leave me for dead, if the
going gets tough." The Aussie made no effort to give any reassurance or otherwise,
remaining non-committal. "I thought so, but lets get one thing clear. I'll be covering
my backside one hundred per cent of the time, so if there's a short fall in
information you'll have to put up with it. Do you know Ed Blake or Margaret
Collins?"
"No."
"You could take a leaf out of their book with respect to getting things done.
They personally took the risks when it was necessary, not just issue instructions
and then hide and wait for results to be handed to them." Will still didn't quite
know what he was being asked to do.
The Aussie showed no reaction. "We need to know of any new areas of
security that are being planned on the bases and their eventual use. Also
information about the personnel you meet with regard to their reluctance, or
otherwise, to talk about classified matters. It doesn't matter about rank, a brief
description will do. Security matters will be linked with the pending arrival of new
aeroplanes and armaments. You know what we want."
"I can never understand why you people can't go through government channels
to get the information you want."
"We can't get what we want that way. The information is never detailed, and
in any case we need it verified by someone on the spot, because it's likely to be
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misinformation. Air Force intelligence keep a tight grip on any new projects
anyway, and you are probably dealing with the very people that are associated
with them."
Will's mind pictured the meetings that had already taken place, it wouldn't be
easy. If anything went wrong he would be vulnerable. The outside contractors
would be the first people investigated by Air Force intelligence.
The Aussie reached into his pocket and produced a soggy piece of paper with
a number written on it. "When you want to pass information on ring this number,
preferably from a public phone. Prepare what you want to say beforehand, say
your piece and then wait for any instructions."
Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was like something out of a badly
written spy novel. "This is bloody ridiculous! It's apparent that neither you or your
colleagues have got the guts to meet me, you're scared to take a risk, so why
should I? You can go to hell for your information!"
The Aussie abruptly stood up, his face had a disappointing look on it, like a
child that had been refused candy. It then changed to annoyance. "I have to report
back favourably, but you're making it hard for me. They'll get upset and start doing
things that you won't like."
Will stood up and moved to the other side of the desk, he could see a
confrontation coming. "I've been threatened by you people for years and it's
always "they" who are they? You're the only person here! Are you threatening
me?"
"No."
There was a moment of silence and Will realized that he was pushing things to
the edge but he had to institute some measure of doubt in this man's mind. "If
anything untoward happens after you leave here I'll warn you again. You're the first
person I'll come to see because I don't know who "they" are, and I don't believe
you do either. You've probably only got one contact otherwise they wouldn't let
you come here."
The two men were postured agressively, their faces only separated by a
couple of feet. The Aussie suddenly thrust his right hand into his inside pocket.
Will's heart jumped into his throat and he reacted instantly.
Lunging forward, he gripped the Aussie's arm to prevent it from being
withdrawn and the force pushed him off balance. As he fell backwards his left arm
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brushed the contents on the top of the desk and they clattered to the floor. Fearing
to let go Will followed him down into the corner of the room.
The Aussie was visibly shaken, a puzzled look on his face. He was sitting on
the floor his back resting in the corner, Will was kneeling on his legs. "What the
hell are you doing Brenner?"
"You were going to pull a gun on me."
"I don't carry a gun."
Will moved his hand across to the area of the pocket but could feel nothing.
He had over-reacted. The Aussie removed his hand revealing a handkerchief, and
proceeded to mop his brow as both men got up. He moved towards the door and
picking up his hat and coat prepared to leave.
"You can tell them what you want. They have my history and are perfectly
capable of drawing their own conclusions. As far as I'm concerned you've
delivered the message." The Aussie left without a word.
Will went over to the window and lifting a slat in the venetian blind watched
as the dark figure ran back to the car through the rain, and listened as the noise
from the car's punctured muffler receded, as it proceeded through the industrial
estate towards the highway, which would take the Aussie back to London.
Will stood shaking in the centre of the room. It had been a disturbing
encounter and things had been left unresolved. He was already beginning to feel
the full effect of the uncertainty and he couldn't subdue it. He was in no mood to
continue the report so gathering up the papers he locked up the office and with his
head bent against the rain made his way over the footbridge that spanned the
highway. Stopping momentarily as he reached the top, he looked across the field
towards the house and could just make out the dim light of the sitting-room
window that looked out over the back garden, indicating that Dorothy had not
gone to bed.
He felt sick and troubled at the thought of hiding things from her, an act which
he had perfected over the years. He knew that it was all going to start again and
he would have to be constantly on his guard.
After an uneasy sleep he arrived at the office the next morning knowing exactly
what he had to do. At precisely 9 a.m. he picked up the phone and rang Scotland
Yard to get in touch with his contact at the meeting he had attended the previous
day. It was only seconds before he was on the line. "What can I do for you Will,
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is there some information that we didn't give you?"
"No, it's a private matter actually, and I was wondering whether you could
help."
"If I can I will."
"As you know I spent a lot of time in Australia and I believe there's an Aussie
that I once knew working at the Embassy. I'd like to find out where he lives and
surprise him."
"Why don't you phone the Embassy?"
"They won't give out the information over the phone, in any case, I only know
his nickname. Could you find out where he lives, if I give you a good description?"
"Yes, we have photo ID's of all the Embassy staff, it would only take ten
minutes. There's only a few people involved, you're not going to do him any harm
are you?"
Will laughed. "No, you're the last people I'd contact if that was my motive."
"I guess that's right. Give me the description and I'll phone you tomorrow
morning at this time."
The day passed without incident but he had to keep pushing the recent events
into the back of his mind in an effort to get his work done.
At 9 a.m. the next day Will sat nervously next to the phone and within a few
minutes it rang. It was his contact from Scotland Yard. "I've got what you want
Will."
"Did you have to contact the Embassy?"
"No."
"That's good, he won't have an inkling that he's going to be surprised."
"His name is William Boyd, they call him Billy Boyd. He's employed as a
courier, I'll give you his address." Will feverishly jotted down the details. "Is there
anything else you'd like to know?"
"No, not at the moment, you've given me everything I had hoped for. See you
at the meeting in two weeks time."
Will sat for a moment temporarily dazed at the ease with which he had
obtained the information. Most of the time it was a frustrating exercise. He quickly
grabbed the London Street Directory. He had been mistaken about Billy living in
Earl's Court but that would only tend to make him feel more secure. The suburb
of Ealing was only seven or eight miles from the city centre and the street only five
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minutes walk from the underground station.
The next day was Friday and Will had decided to take a late morning train. It
was only a one hour and forty minutes ride and he arrived at Euston Station in
North London around lunchtime. After a quick journey on the underground he
soon found himself walking across Ealing Common to identify the street. In
contrast to the hustle and bustle of the city there were very few people about.
Taking out his sandwiches he sat down on one of the park benches to eat lunch.
The thoughts of what may transpire during the next few hours were churning
around inside. The main purpose for his action was to try and place Billy Boyd in
an insecure environment, thereby taking away some of the security he enjoyed
within the confines of the organization. This would in turn make him think twice
before blindly following his superior's instructions, without taking the consequences
into consideration.
His job as a courier at the Embassy fitted the organization's needs perfectly
and after analyzing the events in the office two nights ago, Will had come to the
conclusion that Billy's role was probably a minor one, confined to passing on
instructions and reporting back. As the minutes slipped by he began to ponder
what to do next, perhaps watch the house until he arrived? What if he had taken
the day off and was over there right now? It would be best to go and glean
whatever information he could about Billy's whereabouts.
Will made his way along the street of Elizabethan four storey terraced houses.
They were set back a few feet from the pavement behind wrought iron railings
through which the branches of an occasional shrub was growing. He paused at the
gate which was permanently propped open in a state of disrepair, and read the
number painted in white on a large black door with a tarnished brass knob.
As he mounted the three stone steps he couldn't fail to observe the paint
peeling away from the ornate figured woodwork, probably the result of a hundred
years and many coats. He reached for the Victorian bellpull but as with everything
else in sight it was painted over and solidly fixed in a non functioning position. The
door knocker had long since either fallen off or been stolen, leaving just the striker
stud behind.
Will tried the door. It opened and he stepped into a hallway that perfectly
matched the disintegration of the exterior. The expanse of the stairway leading to
the upper floors took up most of the space, leaving a narrow passage that led to
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the rear of the building. The ceramic tiled floor was old, cracked and so dirty, it
was difficult to distinguish the pattern.
"Who's there?" An old man appeared through the first door on the left. He was
wearing a soiled waistcoat over a creased striped shirt. The collar was pulled high
over a paisley patterned cravat. Walking with a slight stoop his head was cocked
to one side in an attempt to raise his line of sight.
Will attempted to put on his best Australian accent. "My name's Will Brenner
and I'm looking for Billy Boyd. Who are you?"
"I look after the tenants for the owner."
"You're the Superintendent then?"
The old man obviously liked the title, his face momentarily lighting up. "Yes."
"Is Billy in?"
"No, but he gets off work early on Fridays." He paused and took a two inch
diameter gold watch from his waistcoat pocket flipping open the lid to read the
time. "He should be here within the hour. Do you want to wait?"
"Yes, if that's okay."
"His room is the last one along the passage, make yourself at home until he
arrives." The old man turned and went back into his room closing the door.
Will was finding it difficult to come to terms with the fact that he was being
allowed to enter Billy's domain without question. The dark passage twisted and
turned like a rabbit warren with doors to the left and right. Billy's door was slightly
ajar, he pushed it open and called out. "Is anyone there?" He was only confronted
with silence and a single room apartment that resembled the city dump.
Quickly looking through all the drawers he eventually found what he was
looking for. A thirty-eight calibre revolver. He removed the bullets and put it in the
inside pocket of his coat. There was a rickety old chair positioned about three feet
from the door. Will closed the door to its original position and sat down on the
chair surveying the debris and wondering how long it would be before Billy
arrived. It seemed only minutes before his presence became obvious in the
passageway.
Pushing the door open he walked straight across the room to the dirty pot
laden sink, and started removing items from a brown paper bag, totally unaware
that there was another person in the room. Will remained silent. The longer he
stayed undetected, the bigger the shock would be.
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Billy turned, he had some canned food in his hand. His whole body jumped
with fright and the can dropped to the floor rolling under the curtain that covered
the shelves beneath the kitchen sink. He then dived towards the drawer, yanking
it open.
Will stood up with his back to the door and drew the gun, pointing it at arm's
length at Billy's back. "Is this what you're looking for, Billy Boyd?"
Billy whirled around, this time with a look of despair on his face, it looked as
though the end of his world had arrived. He stood with his hands raised and Will
gestured with the revolver for him to sit on the bed.
"How did you find out where I lived so soon?" Will didn't answer. "You must
be from Central Intelligence, an experienced operator."
Will lowered the revolver, walked over to the drawer and dropped it inside.
Billy watched as he emptied his pocket of bullets. He still had his hands in the air,
a look of amazement on his face. "No, I'm not from Central Intelligence, you can
drop your hands now Billy."
Billy stuttered. "The gun wasn't loaded."
"I didn't want to make a mistake and shoot you. You wouldn't have liked it."
"No! What do you want?"
"I've visited you to demonstrate that I can get to you anytime I want. You're
a courier with the Australian Embassy." Billy nodded. "I know all about you and
I can use the information against you if I want, but that should not be necessary,
should it?" A painful look appeared on Billy's face.
"What are you trying to say?"
"You'll get no phone calls from me to deliver information. The organization will
keep the tapes to blackmail me. I won't do it."
"But those are my instructions, I can't change them. I only pass on information,
what do you want from me?"
"It's simple. I can't refuse to spy for the organization but I can refuse to do
things that jeopardize my future, so when I have information to pass on, no matter
how small, it will be to you personally by word of mouth. Nothing written down
or delivered by phone, the number you've given me will only be used to say that
I want to see you. You will then get in touch to arrange a meeting."
Billy's face took on the pained look again. "They won't go for it. It's not the
way they wanted it."
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"You'll have to persuade them then won't you? If you don't I'll put so much
pressure on you, you'll be dying to get on the next plane back to Australia and you
won't be immune there either!"
"This is blackmail."
Will laughed out loud. "You people amaze me. It's okay in your book to use
blackmail, but when you're subjected to it yourselves, you start to whine. Just do
as I ask and you'll keep yourself out of trouble." Will made for the door, there
was only one thing left to be said. "When you've made the arrangements phone me
to say that it's agreed, I won't do anything until I hear from you, is that
understood?" Billy nodded. "Incidentally, is your gun registered?"
"Yes, but I don't carry it around."
"If ever the authorities find out that it's kept loaded in an open drawer they'll
come down hard on you."
Will closed the door behind him leaving Billy with a problem to solve. He was
feeling more upbeat by the minute knowing that the ball was now in their court. It
wouldn't be long however, before he would be back in the fray again, but until then
he would try to enjoy the break.
One week later to the day, Billy was on the phone. Will was expecting an
approval to go ahead, but there was something else. "Would you take a look at
Blaxonby Air Force base and report back, you know what's wanted."
Will was non-committal, he would never say anything on the telephone
anyway. He already knew the proposed security plans there, and the reasons
behind them, also the high ranking officers involved. His meetings at the base
would now take on a sinister connotation and he would have to watch every word
and action to prevent leaving himself wide open. If he was ever discovered the
best he could hope for was a life in prison. The organization would leave him out
in the cold. They would probably engineer it to look as though the information was
being passed to a foreign group to divert attention from themselves. Will felt sick
at the thought.
From the onset he decided to pass on snippets of information in dribs and
drabs, as no time scale existed. The first meeting with Billy was fraught with
paranoia at the thought of being bugged or monitored in some other form. The
meeting was to take place at a Little Chef restaurant on one of the highways.
Will pulled into the car-park and looked across at the windows. Billy's shock
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of hair protruding from every angle of his head was like a beacon announcing his
presence, he drew a deep nervous breath. This wasn't going to be easy.
Entering the restaurant Will made for a separate table in the corner and
beckoned him over. Billy's face questioned his action but with surveillance in mind
it would be best to be extra careful. Billy had arrived first with plenty of time to
plant a device, or check one out, that was placed on his person. He slipped into
the seat opposite Will but did not question his change of table.
"You've got something for me Will?"
Will stood up and pointed to the washrooms, Billy shrugged his shoulders but
followed him with a blank look on his face. Fortunately the room was empty.
"Take off your jacket Billy."
"I'm not carrying a gun."
"Take it off."
Billy removed his coat and Will checked for a bug. "Drop your pants."
"Now look here Brenner, what are you up to?"
"Drop your pants."
They were in the cubicle and Will was praying that no one would come into
the washroom. Billy dropped his pants (his underwear was in the same condition
as his apartment) but it was obvious that he was not carrying a bug. Pulling up his
pants he rearranged his clothing. Will passed Billy a pen and sheet of blank paper.
"Write this down."
With each sentence, to be extra careful, Will flushed the toilet as Billy sat there
feverishly writing. When it was all over they returned to the restaurant. "You can
buy me a coffee and something to eat now Billy. Give me twenty pounds and I'll
keep the change to pay for my expenses down here." Billy swallowed, but passed
the money across and they sat eating a meal. "Where are you from Billy?"
"Adelaide, South Australia."
"I suppose they've got you here for as long as they need you."
Billy nodded. "I'm trying to work in Australian Embassy's in all the major
capital cities around the world."
"That sounds good. Are you married?"
"No, and my function with the organization is only to deliver instructions and
collect information." Will was finally coming to the conclusion that he was probably
telling the truth.
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"Look Billy, I don't want to make life hard for you. If you treat me right things
will go easy, you already know how I will react if things go wrong." Billy nodded.
"So lets keep things cool. I'll phone the number and leave a message, but only to
arrange a meeting."
Billy looked up, a quizzical look on his face. "You won't want me to drop my
pants again will you?"
"It's not you I'm worried about, just the sods that are pulling your strings!"
Will settled down for the drive back. He felt contented that the meeting had
transpired without any hitches. It would be a constant battle from now on
however, trying to keep his head above water.
Contact with the organization was sporadic and sometimes only two or three
times a year. Some of the demands turned into nail biting events, others without
incident, but their presence was always lurking in the background, and as time
went by, it would get harder, not easier.
Will busied himself with renovating the house. A new extension had been built
on the property and he was now concentrating on reshaping the old section.
Both Louise and Mark were progressing well with their academic careers.
Louise took a final year at university to do a Masters Degree, after which time, her
fiance Brent graduated.
They married at the very same church where he and Dorothy were married
almost thirty years before. Immediately after the wedding reception they took a
plane to New York on their honeymoon and then on to Niagara Falls Canada,
where they would eventually set up home.
On Friday morning, the day before the wedding, Will answered the phone in
his office. It was Billy. "Could I see you this weekend?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"It's my daughter's wedding tomorrow."
"What about Sunday?"
"No, it will have to wait until next week. What's it all about, why the urgency?"
"All I can say is that someone you've mentioned in past information has come
under scrutiny, and you may be able to clear up some unanswered questions."
"Come to my office on Tuesday evening at 7 p.m."
The incident bugged him throughout the wedding and the reception, and on up
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to the time of the meeting. There was nothing he could resolve, but that didn't
prevent it from tormenting his mind.
Billy was waiting in his car when Will arrived. It was a pleasant evening so they
didn't go into the office but discussed the matter in the car. There was a perfectly
simple explanation for what was happening and things were wrapped up in a
matter of minutes. Nevertheless, the organization had succeeded in putting a glitch
into what had turned out to be a happy event for him.
Mark also graduated and went to South Africa for a year and then came back
to England and also completed a Masters Degree. After getting married he and his
wife Linda followed in Louise and Brent's footsteps, also emigrating to Canada.
The families over there soon increased to four grandchildren.
Will and Dorothy visited Canada on several occasions to see them all. With
each and every visit the experience of relief being away from the U.K. organization
became more profound and Will knew that he would first have to extradite himself
from the company and then move to Canada to join up once again with the family.
His efforts to leave the company however, provoked a severe reaction. He
was not contracted to the company and the other directors were convinced that
Will would set up a company and take business away from them. To try and take
the pressure off he foolishly entered into a one year arrangement before leaving,
thinking it was the moral thing to do. It turned into a year of torment.
Finally after leaving, the company launched a legal onslaught blaming him for
everything that was wrong with the company, including the charge of financial
mismanagement. It took months before the assortment of legal accusations
eventually reduced themselves to nothing, and things looked as though they were
gradually levelling out to enable him to start processing his plans for the future
when a bombshell arrived in the form of another legal letter. The company had
obviously been holding it back to use as a trump card, if everything else failed.
It basically stated that government classified documents, only accessible by the
directors, were missing from the files, and the wording left in no doubt that he was
being accused of taking them. To Will the end of the world had arrived.
The company knew nothing of his activities with the organization, but should
the two ever be linked by people like Air Force intelligence his goose would be
cooked.
The days leading up to the meeting with his lawyer were devastating. He was
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shedding weight by the minute and his mind was constantly tormented day and
night by a concoction of the many ways that he could eventually be prosecuted
under the Official Secrets Act which was a legal term for accusing someone of
spying. Dorothy knew of his problems with the company, but not the severity of
the situation. He would only involve her if things got so bad that he could not
extradite himself from the situation, and that would certainly not happen overnight.
Getting all his papers in order on the evening prior to the meeting at the
lawyers office, Will reluctantly answered the telephone. "Is that Mr. Brenner?"
"Yes, who's speaking?"
"It's the Independent Television Association."
"I think you must have the wrong Mr. Brenner."
"Mr. William Brenner?"
"Yes, I'm William Brenner. What do you want?"
"This is the investigative programme. We believe that there's some trouble
looming and we would like to interview you to get your side of the story."
Will's whole body became paralysed, his mind numb. If this was allowed to
go forward and ultimately broadcast he would be in deep trouble. Someone from
the company had been on to them spinning a yarn, and he knew who that would
be. Anger replaced his paralysis and he felt the sudden urge to sort the person out
and do murder. "There's no trouble looming, I have nothing to hide. You can have
my written permission to access my bank accounts for the last ten years if you
want and you can come to my house right now and go through all my belongings.
Whatever you feel the need to do, you will have my permission. When you've
investigated every avenue you'll come to the conclusion that an interview will be
unnecessary."
The person on the other end placed his hand over the receiver and muffled
voices exchanged conversation. "It's okay Mr. Brenner, perhaps an interview
won't be necessary after all." The phone went dead and Will collapsed into the
nearest chair. They had been expecting a devious response and when they got the
opposite, it had nullified whatever they had been told.
How far would the company go to get him? These latest dirty tricks had
created a spark and he was beginning to feel like fighting back. By the time he
arrived at the lawyer's office however on the following day, he was full of anxiety
wondering what the meeting would unearth.
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The lawyer examined the letter from the company's lawyer. He looked up and
his eyes seemed to be boring into Will's soul. "Do you have these documents they
claim to be missing?"
"No."
"There won't be a problem then, will there?"
Will's nervous system was wound up tight and he was having difficulty
understanding the reasoning. "Why, what do you mean?"
"Well, I'll write to them and tell them that you haven't got them and that will be
the end of it."
Will still couldn't understand the basic simplicity of what was being suggested.
It seemed naive so he questioned it again.
"You haven't got any skeletons in your cupboard have you Mr. Brenner?" Will
felt the question pierce his very insides. If he revealed his extra curricular activities
the problem would get so complicated he would lose control completely.
"No."
"Then if you sign an affidavit that you don't have the documents, and that you
know nothing of their whereabouts, they can't take the matter further without the
risk of being sued for everything they've got."
Will steered his car through the country lanes towards home. The tension in his
brain had reached a peak, the noises around him seemed to be reaching his ears
from the confines of a hollow tube, the reverberations adding to the confusion.
Everything seemed to be coming unglued and falling into fragments around him.
He pulled into the open gate of a field and stopped but the noises in his head
continued. Resting his head on the steering wheel he tried to inject some reasoning
into the bedlam, but failed. Becoming aware of a single sensation wafting through
the open window he raised his head and took a deep breath. It was the warm
pungent smell of new mown hay.
Stepping out of the car and into the field the smell intensified, driving what was
left of the turmoil out of his head. Walking over to a bale of hay he thrust his hand
into the moist warmth and it's familiar feel transported him back in time to his
boyhood days in the countryside outside the village.
The quietness and tranquility around him was so powerful that he thought for
one minute he had died and gone to heaven. In reality, he realized that the life he
had led would not have made him a candidate. By the time he had reseated himself
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behind the wheel he was beginning to analyze what was wrong and what he had
to do.
He had been allowing events to unfold, too scared to take any action. He still
felt sick inside but his brain was beginning to function again. During the remainder
of the journey home he formulated a simple plan to go on the initiative.
The legal ramifications involving the company's recent accusation would
probably take a month before any reactions surfaced. They would have to
evaluate the risks associated with taking the matter further. The organization
however, was another kettle of fish. By whatever means, he had to try and find out
what was going on, if anything. Billy Boyd was his only contact so he would have
to start there.
As anticipated Billy responded to his request for a meeting, thinking it's
purpose would be to pass on information. They arranged to meet for lunch at an
old twelfth century manor house some fifty miles away, which had been converted
into a hotel. It was situated in it's own landscaped grounds with peacocks perched
on the surrounding brick walls and strutting across the lawns. Billy had suggested
the venue, consequently, it was logical to assume that the organization used the
place from time to time.
As Will walked through the wrought iron studded door into the reception his
nerve endings started to tingle. There would be no question of worrying about
surveillance this time, he had to do whatever was necessary to provoke some
reaction from them and if they had set something up to monitor the meeting, it
could be immediate.
One of the large rooms had been converted into a lounge. Discreet cubicles
were positioned around the oak panelled walls and Will glanced around looking
for Billy's mop of hair. He was there waiting in the corner, but this time he seemed
to blend in with the dark panelling and not stand out like a visual aberration. He
stood up as Will entered the cubicle and opened the conversation. "It's a long walk
to the toilets here Will, if that's what you've got in mind we'd better get started."
"No, not this time Billy."
"Thank God for that," he remarked as he sat down. It was too much to expect
him to forget the episode on their first meeting. "I've ordered coffee and
sandwiches to be brought in, my bank account wouldn't cover the restaurant."
Will smiled nervously. Under different circumstances he could have carried the
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humour further but Billy could be his only ticket out of this mess so he wasn't going
to let his concentration waver. As was now the custom, Billy pulled out his pen
and notebook and Will looked again at his expectant face and took a deep breath.
“Item 1. Billy started writing. "Urgent. Make arrangements for Will Brenner
to meet the group leader." Billy stopped writing, a dumbfounded look on his face.
"That can't be done. It's never been done!"
"Well, this will be the first time then!"
"No, I won't do it, there's trouble in it for me!"
"You'll have to decide which source the worst trouble will come from - me or
the organization?"
Billy's Australian accent thickened as he became more agitated. "What's it all
about?"
"Someone's trying to get me on an Official Secrets charge and I want it
stopped or I'll blow everything wide open!"
"You can't connect me. Nothing has been official between us, you wanted it
that way."
"That's where you're wrong. I told you I'd spend a lot of time covering my
own back, so I went to the trouble of photographing us together. If ever I get into
court, you'll be standing right next to me and they'll be asking who you passed the
information to."
Billy stood up abruptly, he looked scared. "I have to go to the washroom, I
won't be a minute."
In all the times they had met he had never used the washroom before. Quickly
leaving via a different route Will made his way through the now crowded bar and
stood by the exit door looking out into the reception.
Billy was standing in a small alcove, a mobile telephone to his ear. His head
was animatedly nodding in response to someone on the other end of the line. Will
returned to his seat in the lounge and waited. The shock waves he had created
were having their effect. Billy returned and sat down, he was still visibly agitated.
The lounge was now filling up and they had finished the coffee and
sandwiches. The surroundings were not conducive to a confrontational discussion.
"Let's take a walk in the grounds Billy and you can tell me what you've decided to
do." The gardens were kept in tiptop condition and they sat on a seat under a great
walnut tree to continue talking. "Well Billy?"
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"Don't do this to me Will!"
"Perhaps you'd like to go to the washroom again and get a few more
instructions." Billy visibly stiffened. "Or perhaps you could telephone them here
and I'll speak to them."
He looked sheepish at being caught out. "I'll do whatever I can but as far as
they are concerned I'm only a low form of life. They tell me what to do, I can't tell
them."
"Just pass the message on Billy, not over the telephone but face to face, so that
they understand how severe the situation is."
Billy lapsed into silence. It was obvious that he was well aware of the trouble
he was in, with very little room to manoeuvre. Will knew that he had to reinforce
the need for a result. "You understand that this is deadly serious, not a game?"
"Yes."
"Talking about deadly, if things get rough they could try and get rid of me and
you're my only contact so where does that leave you?"
Billy started to shiver at the very thought of his predicament. "Up the creek
without a paddle." He stood up ready to leave, there was nothing left to be said
and things could not be pushed any further at this stage.
An agonizing week expired without any contact being made. Will phoned the
number to contact Billy but found that the number had been disengaged. "Damn!"
This was not the time for delay. It was necessary to go straight down to
London and he organized his arrival at Billy's apartment in Ealing in the late
evening, feeling that it would be the best time to catch him home. The old man in
the cravat met him at the door. "Is Billy Boyd in?"
"No, he's left."
"When was that?"
"He paid his dues and vacated two or three days ago."
Will sat in his car, there was nothing he could do but go back home. He had
a terrible sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach. The realization was dawning that
the organization was pulling the plug.
The following morning promptly at 9 a.m. he phoned his contact at Scotland
Yard. "Hello Will, what can I do for you?"
"Do you remember Billy Boyd that you looked up for me?"
"Yes."
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"Well he's left his apartment and hasn't given a forwarding address. Could you
find out if he's still at the Australian Embassy for me?"
"I'm sorry Will I can't. You're no longer with the company are you?"
"No, but what's that got to do with what we are talking about?"
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't contact me again Will." The line went dead.
Will sat motionless the phone still to his ear. His brain was racing. The bloody
company had poisoned his contact at Scotland Yard. He re-dialled, this time the
Australian Embassy. "I would like to speak with William Boyd."
"You're being transferred to his department." Will waited, still numb from the
Scotland Yard call.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like to speak with William Boyd."
"I'm sorry, he doesn't work here anymore, he left a few days ago. Who's
speaking?"
Will dropped the phone back on it's rest as if it were red hot. Within two days
everything around him had collapsed. The organization had isolated him. At this
very moment he felt as though he was totally alone, not a soul to turn to without
involving them in a load of trouble. This was the very thing he had feared after the
sudden appearance of the agent at the electronic laboratories. He was now in free
fall, with no idea when he would hit the ground, or for that matter, survive.
Crazy things were entering his mind. If only Captain Kirk could energize his
transporter and beam him up to finally reconstitute him in Collins Street,
Melbourne, Australia. He sat in his small study, the tension becoming so intolerable
that he was beginning to suffer claustrophobia. He had to get out of the house.
Walking across the fields to the village he sat by the weir listening to the sound
of rushing water as he had done on many occasions as a boy. Nothing much had
changed and he felt a relief in that fact. The old mill farther down the river
however, had since been demolished. There was no substance from the past there
to grip on to, only open ground.
Both his parents had died over recent years and in a macabre sort of way it
was a godsend that they would not be around should everything go wrong. Slowly
his mind started to rationalize what was happening, looking for the merest inkling
of a route to pursue.
The only personal involvement of any consequence he had ever had with the
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organization was in Australia. He still had Ed Blake's list and some of those named
were now very prominent in public life in both Federal and State governments.
Would it be humanly possible to create enough leverage by threatening to use it,
to offset what was happening here in the U.K.? He would have to make contact
with Margaret Collins first. Perhaps she was no longer with the organization. It
was a real long shot, but he had nothing to lose. There was nowhere else to turn.
A quick calculation told him that by the time he had walked home it would be
midnight in Australia. He remembered Margaret's words at their last meeting. "If
you need to get in touch phone this number at night, I have the phone next to my
bed."
He sat by the phone trying to pluck up the courage to dial. The fear of failing
to make contact was unbearable. The phone rang just three times. "Hello." It was
Margaret's voice!
Will felt a surge of relief welling up inside, so great that it was choking him.
"It's Will, Margaret."
"What's the matter Will, you sound distressed!"
"I'm in so much trouble that for once I can't see my way out of the mess." His
voice began to choke again.
"Take your time Will, just tell me briefly what's happened."
"I've been gathering military information for the organization, but some other
source is trying to get me prosecuted under the Official Secrets Act. Worse still,
the organization has cut off all contact. They've hung me out to dry without anyone
to turn to for help. The only leverage I've got left is Ed Blake's list. I've expired all
the other avenues, but I wouldn't use it if I thought it would hurt you."
"Listen to me Will, I probably wouldn't be around today if it were not for you.
You're not alone anymore, we can organize things from this end for you. Just keep
a grip on yourself, don't let things get you down. Do you want me to come over?
I could be with you the day after tomorrow."
"No Margaret, I don't want you involved unless things get completely out of
control."
"Do you remember Derek Bates when we first met in the apartment in St.
Kilda?"
"Yes."
"I wouldn't be surprised if he's the swine that's lurking in the background. Give
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me your number and in twenty-four hours I'll phone you at exactly this time
tomorrow night, our time. Just sit tight, we'll work something out."
After he had put down the phone Will felt the surges of relief taking over. He
could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks and he offered up no resistance. When
it was all over he pulled back his shoulders to take advantage of a feeling that he
had not experienced for a long time. The cavalry had arrived and it was now time
to fight! He would be prepared to do whatever transpired when Margaret phoned.
He sat right next to it on the following day waiting for the ring, this time his
anxieties were well under control and Margaret detected it.
"You sound much better Will."
"Yes, I'm ready to go."
"That's the idea. We've found out that Derek Bates is involved but we'll wait
until you're in the clear before we fix him up."
"You have my permission to do whatever is required."
"He'll be finished when we're done, I can assure you of that!"
"What happens now?"
"We've talked things over and if you don't want me over there we think you
should proceed on your own. You'll probably be happier knowing that you're in
complete control."
"What do I have to do?"
"I've got the particulars of the person that's in complete control. His name is
Robert Henderson and his address is "The Willows" Briar Lane, Granton, Dorset.
Tell him what you have to, he's the one that can get rid of your dossier and get
things done immediately. You can tell him of your suspicions about Derek Bates
if it's necessary, and if all else fails refer him to me. Robert Henderson is at the
point of retiring, so he should be more receptive. I'm sure they can clear things up
quickly if they want to. We won't contact anyone until you've finished what you
want to do. I'll wait to hear from you. Good luck Will!"
Feeling upbeat was rare and not wanting it to subside Will decided to go down
to Dorset that very day. It was mid-week and Henderson would probably be
more at home now that he was approaching retirement, his successor would no
doubt be covering most of the work. He would stay down there until he had made
contact and pursued the issue to it's conclusion.
The village of Granton was a beautiful part of Dorset abound with thatched
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Elizabethan cottages, trees and green grass. Will pulled into the pub car-park
opposite the village green, it was early afternoon, a quiet time of day with little or
no activity. He had decided to walk the quarter mile to Briar Lane to identify "The
Willows" and then make up his mind from there what the best course of action
would be.
Trees were growing on both sides of the narrow lane, their branches
occasionally touching overhead. He could see the property through the trees, a
small Elizabethan cottage surrounded on three sides by a willow spinney. Open
areas of grass reaching to the very edge of the willows was cut to the perfection
of a golf course, and the long driveway from the lane, landscaped on either side
with flowering shrubs and border flowers. It's picture postcard appearance would
have been at home in any tourist brochure.
He had practically made up his mind to go back to the village pub when a
movement on the far side of the grounds caught his eye. Fixing his attention to the
spot he saw a man wearing a white bush style hat, tee shirt and casual pants. He
was raking the ground at the edge of the spinney, a small wheelbarrow nearby.
Will's pulse quickened. He had made up his mind that it was probably
Henderson. There was a light breeze but there was no sound coming from any
direction. He would have to talk to him now, an opportunity like this with no one
else around may never arise again. Will jumped the open drainage ditch on the
edge of the road and entered the spinney hoping to get a closer look at the man,
rather than walk up the open driveway and alert anyone that might be in the
cottage.
Will moved to the edge of the spinney. The man had his back to him some ten
feet or so away as he stepped out on to the grass. He was rehearsing in his mind
the content of what the conversation would be. He was now only five or six feet
away and Will stopped in his tracks. Completely taken by surprise his mind was
blown, and he felt himself incapable of moving or speaking. The shock was like a
bullet to the brain.
"Can I help you?"
There was no case for mistaken identity. It was Ferret Man. The words
stumbled from his lips. "Robert Henderson?"
"Yes, who are you and what do you want?"
"Take a good look, I don't think you remember me do you?"
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A Compelling Story of Espionage
"No, should I?"
"I'll jog your memory. Do you remember a skirmish you had with someone in
the boardroom of a ship during the last war?"
Henderson's eyes opened wide and he took a step backwards. "Will
Brenner?"
Will waited for the next reaction but what he received was totally unexpected.
Henderson swung the rake and Will felt the impact of the prongs across his left
shoulder. He grabbed the handle and pushed hard and in seconds they were both
rolling amongst the leaves on the ground - a replay of the incident those many
years ago.
Will had the upper hand, his knees hard down on Henderson's chest. He was
puffing and wheezing like a steam engine with a faulty valve, but he was not
resisting. His face had turned blue, his tongue was out and he was making a
croaking noise. My God, he was having a heart attack!
Will pulled him up into the sitting position with his back against a tree as a
woman wearing an apron ran across the lawn towards them. "Are you alright Bob,
will I call the police?"
Henderson shook his head and mumbled through his heavy breathing. "Get
me back to the house, I need to take a pill."
Will watched as Henderson settled himself back into an easy chair after taking
his medicine. His blue face was already beginning to return to normal flesh tones.
The two men stared at one another for sometime. Will shook his head. "You
bloody fool! I didn't come here to harm you, I wanted your help."
Henderson's wife had been watching her husband intently, never taking her
eyes off him for one second, a look of concern on her face. She turned in Will's
direction. "What's this all about? Who are you? Do you know my husband?"
"It's a long story, it can wait until he feels better."
Settling back on the settee Will tried to relax, he was lucky that Henderson
had not died out there. It would have meant double trouble, the magnitude of
which defied belief.
Looking across at Henderson he dearly wanted to hate this man. He had
instigated a life of uncertainty for him that had sometimes resulted in the difference
between life and death. His family had survived involvement but that too had
carried a strong element of risk, depending on the occasion. The feeling of revenge
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Will Bonner
however, was being tempered by what had happened in the garden only a short
while ago. He was obviously a very sick man, probably living every day, thinking
it would be his last. There was enough retribution in that fact. His mind turned to
when Ed Blake, the supervising agent in Melbourne was killed, and this final
thought substituted the hate for sympathy. A strong desire surfaced to get the past
behind him, and all he wanted from this time on was a clear logical conclusion to
his present problem.
After about half an hour Henderson felt much better and the story began as it
did on Margaret's deck in Australia, except that it continued up to the present day.
Mrs Henderson remained silent throughout, occasionally looking across at her
husband. When it was finished all three remained silent, just staring into space. Mrs
Henderson was the first to speak. "You'll have to get things straightened out Bob."
"I guess you're right Jenny, I'll get started tonight."
Jenny stood up. "I'll get us something to eat and drink first. I bet you're hungry
Mr. Brenner." She disappeared into the kitchen leaving the two men alone.
"I thought you were armed and had come to kill me."
"There's been many times when I've wanted you dead, but lets not talk about
what's behind us. I only want to get myself out of this trouble that the organization
has got me into."
"After we've had something to eat I'll take you to central office. Your dossier
is there and we can sort things out on the spot."
It was getting dusk as they travelled north in Henderson's small car through the
English country lanes. The beauty of the countryside however, was farthest from
Will's mind, his head full of unanswered questions that went way back into the
past. To push Henderson for information before completing what he had come for
would be a mistake. It would be disastrous if things backfired.
"How far do we have to go, Mr. Henderson?"
"Call me Bob. About an hour's drive, it could be midnight before we get back
to Granton. Is that okay?"
"I don't mind how long it takes."
The car turned on to the motorway and headed east towards London. He had
what was left of the hour but his mind was struggling with an introduction into what
he wanted to know without scaring Henderson off.
Margaret had told him that Henderson would probably be receptive, but she
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A Compelling Story of Espionage
could be wrong. Then out of the blue he was given the opening. "I suppose you've
got lots of unanswered questions?"
"Yes I have, but most of them are water under the bridge now and insignificant
compared with what's happening at present."
There was a few minutes of silence and Henderson continued. "After the war
the change of emphasis was so dramatic there was some doubt as to whether we
would continue."
"You're not in the mainstream of British Intelligence then?"
"No, just one of their satelite organizations created to do certain types of
work."
"That explains away some of the why's and wherefor's especially whilst I was
in Australia."
"The massive immigrant influx there provided us with a lot of work and the
unrest in Europe after the war kept us going until industrial espionage became
predominant."
"You were involved in Australia then?"
"Only in the early days when the agencies were being developed in Melbourne
and Sydney. Since then I moved on to other things, mainly to do with
organizational matters and my day-to-day was work passed to others. The only
significant thing I remember was a supervising agent that was killed in Melbourne.
An agent was sent from the U.K. to make sure that there was no loss of
continuity."
"Yes, I remember him. His name was Derek Bates."
Conversation abruptly ceased. The silence between them like a brick wall.
Damn it! I've gone too far, he's probably closed the door to any further
information. He would have to take the risk and test Henderson further. "Tell me
Bob, would you object if I asked you about Bates. Not now, perhaps later?"
"No, provided that your enquiry is straightforward and doesn't involve his
activities within the organization."
The car steered off the motorway and entered the country lanes again. After
about ten minutes they stopped at the wrought iron gates of a typical old stone built
gatehouse. Henderson got out and was met at the gates by a blue uniformed
security man. At the conclusion of their conversation the man came over to the car
and peered inside.
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Will Bonner
"Good evening Sir." Will nodded, it seemed unnecessary to say anything as he
appeared to be checking out the vehicle for other occupants. Just doing his job,
Will was thinking.
The long tree lined driveway terminated in front of a typical old English manor
house. A small parking area alongside the house was empty but floodlit, as were
other areas across the lawns surrounding the building, spelling out security.
Bob started to pant and wheeze as they climbed the steep stone steps to the
front door and Will purposely slowed his pace eventually standing for a few
moments by the front door, allowing him to catch his breath. "You're one of my
agents whilst we are here, okay?"
"I suppose it will be alright if it's only for an hour or so."
Henderson smiled and pressed the intercom button. "It's Henderson, I have
an agent with me. I'll punch in my security code."
Within seconds the noise of door bolts releasing electronically broke the
silence, and they walked into a large oak panelled entrance hall. The security man
looked up at them from behind a console that resembled a television studio
control. "You're working late Sir. What can I do for you?"
"Yes, something urgent has cropped up. I need some information from central
filing to get this agent underway tonight."
"Will you be taking away any documents?"
"No, it will be all verbal and we'll have no need to use the computer."
"That makes things real easy then, doesn't it Sir? You know where to go. I'll
release the entrance doors and see you when you leave."
Helping to swing open the heavy steel filing vault door Will walked over to an
open area in the centre of the room containing a desk, and next to it a shredding
machine. There were no windows in the solid brick walls on all four sides,
indicating top security. Rows of tall filing cabinets projected in every direction from
where he was standing. He could hear beeping sounds as Henderson entered
codes to gain access to the cabinets, then opening and closing drawers between
periods of silence. He reappeared, dropping a large folder on to the table before
sitting down on a chair nearby.
Will thumbed quickly through the pages, immediately recognizing Margaret
Collins's handwriting. He subdued the urge to study the contents, it was only
necessary to verify that the file was his, but there was no doubt. He turned to
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The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
Henderson. "Is this everything Bob?"
"Yes."
"Have you read the contents yourself?"
"No, I haven't a clue what the file contains." There was no reason to disbelieve
him.
Will couldn't believe his eyes as he stared down at his bulky file before
personally putting it page by page through the shredder. All the facets of his
problem were then discussed and Ferret Man, now known to him as Robert
Henderson, explained how things would be implemented.
"We will also stop the company you worked for from bothering you anymore,
but I won't tell you how. It will just stop."
"Can Air Force Intelligence still get to me?"
"I don't see how. They would need hard evidence and you've just put that
through the shredder."
"That wouldn't stop them from trying."
"No, we all have to carry around with us the possibility that something could
flare up at any moment. We have no connection with them and the mere fact that
we obtain information about their projects covertly, puts us all into the same
category. But the chances of anything happening is very remote indeed and even
if they discovered something, they would find it practically impossible to take it
further than the confines of their own organization without exposing themselves to
scrutiny."
"So if I've been careful ....... Henderson interjected. "Just relax."
"What about Derek Bates?"
"He's been a loose cannon for years, this time he's gone too far. He could have
put the organization in jeopardy with his arrogance. I'm certain you would have
had a surprise in store, if things had gone wrong for you."
Will pulled Ed Blake's list from his pocket. "The names and information in this
document would have blown the organization wide open in Australia." He walked
over to the shredder and pushed it through. Henderson's forehead creased into a
frown.
"That bloody fool Bates! I'll see that he's finished after this. He's just a sloppy
arrogant fool, a danger to everyone around him!"
It had just turned midnight when Will unlocked his car in the village pub car-
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Will Bonner
park where he had left it earlier. He was sorely tempted to book a room for the
night but his brain was so active it would have been a waste. The journey home
could consume three hours or more and it would take all of that time to get used
to the feeling of freedom he had attained during the day's activities. He still couldn't
come to terms with what had happened.
Dorothy turned over as he slipped into bed around 4 a.m. "You're very late
Will. Did something go wrong?"
"No, the business in Dorset took longer than expected and I decided to come
home rather than stay over."
Will felt himself slipping into oblivion a sensation he had not experienced for
a very long time and he allowed it to encompass him.
On the following evening Will phoned Margaret in Australia to give her the
details. She was relieved at not having to take any action against Derek Bates. As
Henderson had promised, he received no more legal letters from the company
over the next two or three months, during which time they had applied for
immigration to Canada and been accepted.
It was early Spring when the plane took off from London en route for Toronto.
It would be a one-way trip for them this time.
The angle of the lift as it left the ground had a special meaning for him on this
occasion. It felt as though he was being catapulted out of the worst trouble he had
ever encountered and he was feeling better about it by the second.
They were starting a new life and this time he was determined to make it one
of stability and contentment.
396

Illustrations
Chapter 1 The Ferret Man.
Convoy at anchor in the Firth of Clyde Scotland.
Chapter 2 The War Correspondent.
Convoy under air attack in the Mediterranean.
Chapter 3 The Aden Incident.
Gharry and driver who took Will to meet his contact at the Queen of Sheba's
Wells.
Chapter 4 The Proposal.
The Taj Mahal hotel Bombay. The meeting place with Bligh the British
intelligence agent.
Chapter 5 Chesapeake Bay.
Pine forest alongside Chesapeake Bay, where Will was apprehended by US
military police.
Chapter 6 Hawaiian Assignment.
Waikiki beach and Diamond Head. The setting for Will's meeting with Gerald, a
British intelligence agent living in Honolulu.
Chapter 7 The Surveillance.
High powered tripod mounted, listening instrument, procured by Ed Blake for
surveillance work.
Chapter 8 The Phone Tap.
Headphone interception of telephone calls.
Chapter 9 Nazi Youth.
This Nazi emblem was found on documents confiscated from the home of
Stefan.
Chapter 10 Serbs and Croats.
The steamer leaving Point Ormond,for a secret Croat meeting.
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Chapter 11 The Female Connection.
Margaret Collins took over from Ed Blake as chief intelligence officer in Victoria
after he was killed.
Chapter 12 The Byer Tapes.
A typical reel to reel type tape recorder used to copy classified sound recordings.
Chapter 13 The Safe Cracker.
Commercial safe used to store classified documents.
Chapter 14 Alec’s Misfortune.
Alec’s temporary home.
Chapter 15 The Final Straw.
The dam and it's control building next to the spillway where an attempt was made
on Will's life.
Chapter 16 Official Secrets.
Tactical aircraft from various countries at airfields in England.
398

About The Author
Will Bonner was born and raised in a small
village nestled in the heart of the English
countryside. The idyllic surroundings of
the family cottage which was situated
alongside a river that literally flowed past
the front door concealed the day to day
struggle to survive their poor and needy
circumstances.
Will’s teen years were lost to him by the
onset of World War 2, and he found
himself as a young seaman subjected to
attacks by German U-Boats and enemy
aircraft. During this time he travelled to
many parts of the world.
Returning home after the war Will stayed with his family for three years
during which time he married. Deciding to take advantage of associations
formed during his voyages to Australia Will and Dorothy emigrated there.
They were amongst the many thousands of people who were seeking a
fresh start in a young country far removed from the aftermath of the war in
Europe.
Graduating as an Electronics Engineer he settled down to form roots and
raise a family. Described in the book are the circumstances that eventually
compel him to pull up those roots that they had worked so hard to
establish and take the family back to his birthplace in England.
The following years saw the marriage of both his children who then
emigrated to Canada.
In the conclusion of the final chapter of “The Reluctant Agent”
circumstances enable Will and Dorothy to eventually join their children
and live permanently in Canada.
The endless hours spent by Dorothy typing the manuscript, proof reading,
and editing “The Reluctant Agent” most certainly sustained the continuity
of the writing. It’s completion may not have been accomplished without
her constant help and assurance.
399