Sowerbutt's Dog

A Dalmatian lying across the van floor watched the man in handcuffs with baleful eyes, sitting up and growling in the back of his throat. 
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Sowerbutt's Crowbar

Spaghetti jammed the crowbar inside the backdoor clasp and heaved. Sowerbutt stood to one side, his Webley pointing at the door.
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Sowerbutt's Knife

The slight woman with short grey hair said. “Given the choice, I would have used a knife, Mr Sorbay, a sharp knife. But we will do as you ask to the letter, we’re professionals.” Several of the men in the room took her meaning and slipped their hands between their legs.

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Sowerbutt's Team

Half-dozen men, all carrying shooters under their overcoats, were positioned along the quiet street, alert and watching for trouble. 
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Sowerbutt's Hold-Up

The driver swallowed his shout, “It’s a hold-up”, as a giant, wearing a balaclava, wrenched the van door open and pointed a Webley revolver at his head. 
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Sowerbutt's Fireworks

Bursts of red, gold, silver and orange shot over the suburban street, a stone’s throw from Clapham Common.  
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Sowerbutt's Bonfire

“Blimey, Bonfire Night. What’s going on here?” The grey-haired man stared through the windscreen of the Leyland prison van. 
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Sowerbutt's Friend

Generalissimo Franco said. “Jimmy, you are an honoured citizen of our Spanish State. Driven out of your victorious England by the godless Reds; a fake burial, indeed. In Spain, we line the scum up against the wall." http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Smoke-London-Sowerbutt-Novels-ebook-x/dp/B00RYR8BWG geoffreyhowe.wix.com/howebooks

Sowerbutt's Chocolate

"Nero, dear friend,” Sowerbutt said. “Take the weight off and help yourself to some of those Kit-Kat Crisps. We must let Rowntree’s know that you’re their biggest fan.”

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Sowerbutt's Business

“How’s the brothel-keeper after all the recent activity? No doubt, the Old Man will ask,” Brendan Bracken said. “Back running his black market, sir. Has his fingers in just about every pie in the East End."

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Sowerbutt's Alliance

The Brigadier sipped his glass of Hine: “Be an acquired taste to start working with the Reds, sir. Harry Pollitt back as general secretary, no doubt. The thought of having to cuddle up to him, enough to bring your breakfast up. What about the Daily Worker? Banned one day, back the next.”

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Sowerbutt's Struggle

"We can watch – applaud – as the two empires of evil batter each other to death on the plains of Eastern Europe. Napoleon’s catastrophe replayed, we hope."

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Sowerbutt's Wife

Looking at her difficult man, Polly said: “Any news of your dear wife, Sorbay? I’m sure you would have told me, but you understand my interest.”

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Sowerbutt's Friend

Churchill’s eyes twinkled. “Mr Sorbay, I remember the name, do you see. A man who gets things done, I like him."
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Sowerbutt's Salute

The latecomer swept the bowler off his mop of bottle-yellow hair, held it out in silent salute and bowed low as the gravediggers began shovelling the heavy clay soil into the grave. 
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Sowerbutt's Funeral

The mourners at the funeral of the Poplar businessman were a curious assortment.
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Sowerbutt's Words

Puffing his corona, Churchill growled: “Never in the course of human history has so much been owed by so many to so few word-warriors.”

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Sowerbutt's Explosions

Two white and yellow explosions tore through the braking Austin, the roof flying into the air and landing 10 yards away, embedded in a tree. Flames and smoked engulfed the car with another explosion following as the petrol tank went up.

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Sowerbutt's Revolver

Sowerbutt fired four shots from his Enfield revolver, shattering the window. The two Mills grenades with four-second fuses followed, the motor-bike screaming away as Gerard opened the throttle wide. 
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Sowerbutt's Balaclava

Spotting a black Austin 8 pulling into Kensington Palace Gardens, Gerard and Sowerbutt pulled on their balaclavas. 
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Sowerbutt's Promise

Sowerbutt said: “Vershinin. The arrogant bastard acts with impunity in the Smoke, Lee. Snatches you from one of our larders – I know we wanted him to, but that’s not the point. And he cuts one of my men. No-one does that and survives. Cocker is mending, Vershinin won’t.”

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Sowerbutt's Rules

“My rules are simple. I minimise risks, I look after the Family and I deal with anyone who crosses my path,” Sowerbutt said.

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Sowerbutt's Victories

“After a winter of despair, our victories offer a spark of hope, Majesty. Some, like Bardia and now Tobruk, we can trumpet to show the Cousins what stern stuff our Empire is made of. Others, just as important, we must cloak with the veil of silence, perhaps forever,” Churchill growled.

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Sowerbutt's Plan

“The point is, John, this operation will save thousands of British lives. Bringing forward Jerry and the Reds at each other's throats by a day, a week, a month will save London and our cities."
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Sowerbutt's Enemy

Sowerbutt sighed: “We’ve had a hard few days, Polly. The Reds snatched Lee, cut Cocker and did over his cousin. We have a score to settle with the bastard Russkie behind all the trouble.”

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Sowerbutt's Empire

“Cakes, bikes, mortar barrels, hats, timber, farms and a repository,” Polly smiled, looking round the upstairs in a row of shops in Kimpton Road, Luton. "Our business empire."
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Sowerbutt's Cosh

Twisting around, Sowerbutt drove his cosh into the stomach of his first opponent, a hammer-blow to the head as he fell rendering the former docker unconscious. 
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Sowerbutt's Champagne

"What will we do for supplies of Pol Roger? The Continent is closed; our London wholesalers have run dry. Mr Sorbay is the only man who can save us.”

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