Invisible Foe Read online

  However, ACC Roberts was not quite through “Right in that case Inspector Selby I’ll give you my personal assurance, that all here are convinced that at least one amongst them living there is in fact your man, now I will say no more. I’ll leave it entirely up to you, as to what you do next” and with that ACC Roberts made a dismissive gesture, an obvious invitation for us to leave.

  *

  Reg. Martin instinctively knew he was now being watched, although realising he had no real evidence to support this, he nevertheless decided to take no unnecessary chances. He therefore selected six time-delayed grenades from those Sally had given him earlier. The rest he reasoned would be safe enough tucked away somewhere in Dorothy’s garden air-raid shelter. Having explained all this to Dorothy, Martin then coaxed her into his bedroom by way of a change, where they stayed until nightfall. He then told Dorothy to open the front door. “And do what?” she asked. “It doesn’t really matter my love” he began, then as an afterthought added “light a cigarette maybe, just draw attention to yourself in case anyone’s watching the house, and I’ll be able to slip out of the back door unnoticed,” he told her with a pat on her backside to help her along, and as he’d surmised some ten seconds after Dorothy opened the front door, a gruff voice shouted “Put that bloody light out!”

  By this time however, Martin had closed the back door, leapt over the fence at the bottom of Dorothy’s garden and was standing in a side alley which led into a field. Cutting across said field he knew would take him into Sally’s street and in fact right passed her house. Strange as it may seem, when he finally arrived back in that street which was in fact Nelson Road, where he’d previously lodged with Sally, he felt completely safe, free from any anxiety he’d had about being watched whilst at Dorothy’s. This fear became a thing of the past. Walking passed Sally’s front door, in spite of the darkness, Martin clearly saw several ARP wardens roaming about. However, what really amazed him was when a fuel tanker drew alongside him, and a voice from within called “I say old chap, you wouldn’t be going my way by any chance”. Automatically, Martins guard was up. He cautiously peered into a completely dark cab, with suspicion, but suddenly, a small cab light flickered on for a second, just long enough to reveal a face Martin clearly recognised as that of the tanker driver, who not long ago had driven him to Warlingham and had also given him Sally’s address. In any case Martin having changed his mind again, climbed into the cab telling the driver he was on his way to Dagenham. “Ah, that’s alright then, coz I’m carrying a load for Hornchurch aerodrome”. Martin nodded his appreciation, sat back in the passenger seat and relaxed. He then slowly took and lit a cigarette from his pocket, offered one to this friendly driver, and while holding a light for him, Martin casually asked, “How did you know where to find me this time my friend?” The driver gave him a side on glance and a small belly laugh before answering “Oh, so you realise it was me gave you a lift from Folkestone some time ago”. “That’s right, you also gave me Sally’s address and I seem to remember the name ‘Red’ cropping up, is that right?” Martin queried. “You are quite right my friend, I am ‘Red’ and by the way it was Sally herself told me to now look out for you, and to inform you that her house is now under surveillance, so you are safer at Dorothy’s for the moment. Although we’re guessing you were under the impression it was Dorothy’s house being watched”. Martin was amazed at this revelation and replied by stating “But I had no idea, I’m sure it was Dorothy’s house being watched”. “Yes, we thought you might think that” at this point Martin cut in “but why would you think that?” Red gave a small belly laugh, leant forward and said “You do realise these women do communicate” he reminded him before adding “Oh yes she also ordered me to stay close to you at all times” Red informed him. At this statement Martin looked slightly puzzled and immediately asked “What do you mean, she ‘ordered’ you! who is she then, to be able to order you to do these things?” Martin then fell silent waiting for Red to respond. However, the answer he finally received, was not at all to his liking, Red simply replied with “My friend, it is more than my, or even your, life is worth for me to tell you that!”

  31:

  TOO LATE – AGAIN

  After a moment or two reflection on what ACC Roberts had said, DI Selby discarded our trip to Biggin Hill aerodrome for the time being, and instead decided he and DC Willis should first take a stroll down Nelson Road, in order to see if we were in fact in any sort of position to apprehend our man, if he was indeed inside this house that ACC Roberts spoke of. Selby’s reason for leaving me behind, taking Willis with him instead, was quite reasonable I thought. It was simply on account that if our man was by chance lodging in that house, and happen to see me walk by the front door, having already encountered me at Biggin Hill aerodrome a few days ago, he would know at once we were on to him and that’s something Selby wanted to avoid, so we could hopefully catch our man completely off guard when we decided to strike. Now for the time being to minimise showing any suspicion on our part, Dave sent DC Willis off to find a local stall holder who was prepared to let the police borrow (at a price of course) his barrow for a while. Ten minutes later DC Willis returned, mission accomplished. “Right, now you Tony, cop ‘old of the bloody barrow, that’s it, now you’ll be pushin’ it along Nelson Road, I’ll be walkin’ beside yer. Once outside the bloody green ‘ouse, I’ll stop yer, offer yer a fag. Now while we’re lightin’ up, you’ll say somethin’ bloody funny, and we’ll both burst out laughin’. Got that?” Selby broke off there, gave Willis a very serious look before continuing “now Tony at that moment we’ll both be leanin’ on yer ol’ barrow laughin’ our bollocks off, but our eyes will be takin’ in every detail concerning that den of iniquity. Now ‘ave yer got all that me ol’ son?” Selby asked with a slight chuckle, for DC Willis had already created a round of laughter, simply by tying a red bandana around his neck and placing a peak cap on his head, sideways. “Well at least ‘e looks the part Dave,” I told Selby “Yeah right” he answered with a small grin. “Come on yer daft bugger, let’s get goin’.

  *

  Sally, Reg. Martins previous landlady, glanced out of the front room window, and happened, to notice two barrow boys walking by. As she did so, one of them said something and they suddenly stop to light a cigarette. Then the other one said something and both burst into a fit of laughter. Sally herself could not help but smile at their antics. Nevertheless at that moment she remembered what Martin had once told her about being wary of strangers, although now as she watched these two men Sally consoled herself with the knowledge that he, Martin her lover, had long fled the area, and should by now be well away from here.

  Martin was in fact at that moment walking out of Dagenham Railway Station. He’d left his friendly tanker driver ‘Red’ at Barking where Martin hopped on a train straight through to Dagenham. Once outside the station, he quickly learnt that May & Baker chemical firm wasn’t too far away. In fact as he walked down a slight incline away from said station, he could actually see May & Baker over to his right, it was surrounded by a wire fence.

  However, seeing as at that moment an air-raid siren was groaning out the last notes of a warning, Martin therefore considered it to be a good idea to stay far away from any factories for a while. He in fact reasoned this time in the morning wasn’t a good time to go anywhere near a chemical plant at all. So for the time being having satisfied himself he was now familiar with the surrounding area, he headed straight on down a long wide road, where some helpful soul had told him to turn right at the far end, and there he would find Ever Ready Battery firm on his immediate left, which he did. By then heavy anti-aircraft gun-fire was ravishing the sky and a squadron or two of German bombers could be seen clawing their way slowly towards London. So once again Martin decided to forego the pleasure of re-arranging another factory, instead he retraced his steps back to Dagenham station. He had it in mind on taking a train to Upminster Bridge. Having been there once before, he knew he could either hop on a bus into
Hornchurch village or even walk the couple of miles, would make no difference. He could then no doubt spend an hour or so in a village tea room. After which he might even spend another hour or two in the local ‘Odeon’ cinema, a somewhat clean looking building which was referred to as the ‘Towers’

  On reaching Upminster Bridge station, Martin now carrying no walking cane of any kind, decided he would take a brisk walk back to Hornchurch village. Having obtained a row of medal ribbons from Sally’s collection of military hardware, which he now had displayed just above his breast pocket of his jacket, indicated he’d served in the British forces at sometime or other. Martin pulled back his shoulders and began a proud walk to Hornchurch. He had convinced himself that a brisk walk would be more beneficial than jumping on a bus. It would also take time, thereby shaving a touch more time off having to spend hanging around in a village tea shop.

  *

  I think it fair to say that it was the rest of us who was standing either end of Nelson Road, watching DI Selby and DC Willis as they stopped to light a cigarette and suddenly burst into laughter, that could appreciate their performance best. As it was we were all taking this lesson in observation quite seriously, until DC Willis started his laughing routine. He first sat on a handle of the barrow doubled over with laughter, then pulled himself up, then sauntered round and leant on the highest part of the barrow, and while still laughing, actually flung his whole body across it, and of course the bloody barrow went down with a crash, taking him with it, eventually leaving poor old Willis lying sprawled out in the middle of a freshly tarmacked road, with the barrow doing a half leap and rolling completely out of his reach, thus causing DI Selby to first jump to one side, then to make a desperate grab for the bloody barrow. However, what caused us onlookers an even greater laugh was that Selby had no need to grab for the bloody thing at all. It had already stopped, and Selby, silly sod was left sitting on his arse in the middle of the road.

  Nevertheless in spite of all this performance they were having with the barrow, I kept a close eye on DI Selby, and could clearly see he was taking in every detail of the green house we had under surveillance, and true to form the moment he’d seen enough he indicated to Willis it was time for them to leave. They both regained their feet, Willis again taking charge of the barrow and both vacated Nelson Road with smiling faces.

  On reaching me and a few other coppers who we’d taken along with us, just in case, Selby glanced at me, gave a slow shake of his head. “The only bloody person I saw in there was a bloody woman, and all she did was laugh at us pair of bleedin’ idiots piss balling about with a barrow,” Dave said in disappointment. “Well perhaps yer got the wrong ‘ouse mate’ I replied sympathetically.

  *

  On relinquishing his seat in the ‘Towers’ cinema in Hornchurch, Martin checked his watch, calculated he’d been in there for about three hours. Having seen roughly about one and a half films, Martin had fallen into a deep sleep. Next thing he knew, they were playing the National Anthem and everyone was standing. He quickly jumped to his feet, stood to attention in respect, after which he made a point of being last out of said cinema. Once outside, he noticed the sky was now beginning to darken. Martin also noticed something else, a small scruffy boy, and somehow he had a strange feeling he knew this scruffy little kid from somewhere. It then dawned on him where he’d seen this nuisance of a child before. He straight away tried to avoid the kid, but to no avail, for as Martin began to lengthen his stride in order to avoid having any contact whatsoever with this small bundle of joy, Martin suddenly felt himself go cold inside, when a young cockney voice beside him sung out “Oi mister, I know yer, don’t I? Yeah, you’re that bloke that come ou’ that ‘ouse, where that bloke was murdered, aintcha?” Martin looked down at his tormentor and remarked, “Shouldn’t you be in bloody bed by now?” Martin then ignored the kid completely and kept on walking as the small voice remarked, “‘Ere, yer lucky my dad aint ‘ere”.

  32:

  A MERRY DANCE

  Our investigation continued, but a week or so later we hadn’t got any further. The uniform police carried on with their house to house enquiries, yet so far to date no further progress had been made there. DI Selby and yours truly had a couple more meetings with ACC Roberts, who strongly suggested we now turn our attention back to London, or even Hornchurch might be a better idea. However later that same night whilst crouching in a bloody Anderson garden air-raid shelter back in London’s Bow Road, Dave Selby put it to me that although this bugger we’re looking for had been taking us for a merry bleedin’ dance all over the place, he hadn’t yet touched the Hornchurch aerodrome, nor so far had he interfered with May & Baker, that chemical firm in Dagenham. I stood for a moment pondering on what Dave had said. I then chimed in with “What about that battery factory Ever Ready?” “Yeah there, that’s another factory” Dave replied as we both automatically ducked when two more bombs exploded close by. Five minutes after which an all clear started whining out its mournful notes.

  We’d been cramped up for so long in that bloody air-raid shelter, that it took Dave and I a good fifteen minutes to get our limbs functioning again. Anyway, now back inside the house where my parents still lived, although as it happened they’d gone on holiday to Somerset visiting friends. Selby flicked on the radio and within a couple of minutes we were listening to a repeat broadcast, which was recorded in 1939, of the Lightweight title fight between Eric Boon the British Lightweight champion and his challenger Arthur Danahar. Raymond Glendenning the commenter was screaming his lungs out telling us the Danahar boy had got tagged and gone down. It was at this point while I stirred our tea, Dave supplied us with a cigarette each, that W. Barrington Dalby began his inter-round summary. He started by telling us that our London boy from Bethnal Green had now been down three times. He then reiterated something about the fighting Danahar brothers, those famous boys, and what they were doing for the boxing fraternity. Then quite suddenly a bell rang and they were at it again, with Glendening telling us their every move. “Oh brilliant” he raved “Boon has just made Danahar miss with a vicious right hand”. So this is what we sat listening to for fourteen hard-fought rounds before Dave switched this exciting fight off. He then turned to me and said, “That’s it Billy me boy, it’s back to Dagenham for us”. I immediately glanced at him, could see at once he’d had a brainwave. “Come on, we’ll hop a train” he rattled off with urgency. “Alright let’s get me bleedin’ coat on and make sure we turn everything off and make sure the ‘ouse is secure” I cautioned him as we hurried from room to room checking everything was in order.

  *

  As Martin hurried away from the ‘Towers’ cinema, and the troublesome small boy in particular, he received many suspicious looks from various people, and although it was getting dark, one man amongst them could not help but take a second closer look at this tall figure striding away from this very curious crowd. He nudged his wife walking by his side. “I know that feller, last time I saw him was at Hornchurch station. He’s a corporal, RAF, name of Fletcher I believe” the Hornchurch ticket collector declared to his wife. “Well, so what? He’s probably got leave, nothing wrong with him going to the pictures, is there?” she said in this strangers defence. “No no, you don’t understand my dear, that young kid just stated, that man was in a house where someone was murdered, and when I took his ticket the other day, he was acting bloody suspicious then” the ticket collector managed to say before his wife impatiently told him “Well in that case, you should ring the police my dear” she offered this statement with some obvious annoyance, then added “now come on, let’s get home, in case jerry starts again tonight”. “Alright, I’ll ring them from home,” he told her.

  Martin stepped off a number 66 bus at Hornchurch station and immediately started walking towards Hornchurch aerodrome. Once clear of the station itself and the small coal yard, where a certain amount of coal was delivered by train each day for the area, he checked making sure that the Webley revolver was still tu
cked in his waistband. Having assured himself there was no problem there, it then occurred to him that he must somehow arm two of the grenades now reposing in his jacket pocket. Although under the circumstances Martin found this quite a simple task. On finding an opening at one side of the school gate, just wide enough for him to squeeze through, he carefully installed both primers, one in each grenade, made sure both pins were secure, then making his way to a nigh on six-foot fence which divided school from airfield, with agility he scaled the fence. Of course, on landing the other side, he realised there would be guards wandering around. Nevertheless much to Martins relief, and as though in answer to a prayer, quite suddenly an air-raid siren began whining out a warning, thereby coming to his rescue. Martin knew anyone on guard in an airfield, when a warning sounded, would most likely stay as close as possible to some sort of shelter, and that should give him long enough to dispose of at least two aircraft.