Sowerbutt's Sparklers

“Business, Nero,” Bozo said. “The Old Man is waiting. I’ve got two pounds of uncut sparklers. The lads have got scales if you want to check the weight.”  He nodded at two big men by the bar.

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Sowerbutt's Cash

Nero glanced at the Gladstone bag, wedged between his feet. It was full of bundles of pound notes that Sowerbutt had collected from one of the Family’s hiding places.

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Sowerbutt's Aeroplane

Borecki shook his head. “Who was on the aeroplane? Somebody special.” “They told me it was Uncle Joe,” Swirski said. “I asked them who this man was and they said it was Stalin, the mass murderer. The man with the blood of thousands of Poles on his hands.”

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Sowerbutt's Champagne

Bracken said: “Sorbay has more Pol Roger for you, Prime Minister. I won’t go into its origins but it is untraceable. No record of it having been lifted, I think the saying is.”

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Sowerbutt's Friend

Churchill beamed: “I like Sorbay. Always at the heart of any trouble, but he wins, dear boy, he wins. We need more winners in these troubled times.”

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Sowerbutt's Success

Bracken said; "The man who saved St Paul’s and the Tower was the brothel-keeper. Your man, Sorbay, sir. He found the bombs at the Cathedral and his men took out this criminal docker at the Tower.”

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Sowerbutt's Question

Churchill growled: "The question preying on our minds is how long can London take it?”

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Sowerbutt's Brigands

The Guardia Civil commandant whispered about the terrorists in the Galician mountains. “The region is loyal; officially the El Piloto brigands don’t exist, senor. But we must be careful, you are armed. My men are on full alert.”

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Sowerbutt's War

Despite the fighting ending more than 10 years earlier, the Spanish roads were still potholed and rutted, houses ruined and much of the countryside devastated. 
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Sowerbutt's Invitation

Sowerbutt sat down quickly, well aware of the Spanish leader’s sensitivity about his short stature. “El Caudillo, I am honoured to be invited to your summer home here in Galicia.”

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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 Dog

The Dalmatian's head was low, body crouched and tail stiff.

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Sowerbutt's Finger

A chubby pink finger in a Horse Guards office trembled on its way down the list followed by a spectacular explosion. 
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Sowerbutt's Prison

Four experienced members of the SAS, on special detachment, were infiltrated into the prison several years after it opened; their orders were to break out - using non-lethal force as necessary.
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Sowerbutt's File

The file’s former occupants, including the vital index page, were separately stamped with the classification “Never To Be Released”, placed in an acid-free archival storage box and driven under close escort to a tightly-guarded anonymous storage facility, designated under the Official Secrets Act of 1989. 
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Sowerbutt's Women

The Professor pecked at the last honey cake. “You ladies are natural business people. So many of my male contemporaries are foolish for ignoring the female genius and aptitude. A waste of talent if I may say and I do so dislike waste."
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Sowerbutt's Cash

The professor pecked at another honey cake. “My message to Mr Sorbay has been that money is hard to accumulate but easy to lose. We must record what we have, put as much as possible out of harm’s way and protect as best we can any cash at risk from Jerry bombs.”

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Sowerbutt's Contract

“I approve of this contract, Miss Polly. One thousand wooden bumper bars for Bedford lorries. The material from Mr Sorbay’s contacts in the timber trade, simple for our apprentices to make and a reliable payer. Vauxhall has been part of Luton since I was a boy,” the Professor said, giving a rare smile.

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Sowerbutt's Fingers

Sowerbutt grinned: “You might also mention that I’ve got a consignment of Pol Roger for Mr Churchill.” Bracken shook his head. “Sticky fingers, Sorbay. Is that what you call it?”

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Sowerbutt's Coupons

“Don’t you tell me what to do, you little pipsqueak,” snapped the woman. “I’m a food inspector and this woman was going to sell me a quarter of chuck steak without a ration coupon. That’s a criminal offence and she’s going up before the magistrate. We’ve got to stamp out the black market, set an example.”

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Sowerbutt's Butcher

The huge hand slammed down on the bench in Wicks Butcher’s, One-Line towering over the middle-aged woman clad in a grey mac.  “We treat ladies with great respect in this manor, ma’am,” Panda smiled, standing alongside. “But my friend doesn’t like accusations being made against our Mrs Wicks.”

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Sowerbutt's Education

Father Goose nodded: “Aah, our Mr Sorbay, such a generous man. Some might say he operates his businesses close to the wind. But he is a blessing to our people. He houses them, feeds them, gives them jobs. Now he educates them.”

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Sowerbutt's Warning

"I own you, you will do whatever and exactly as I say. The alternative is death. You are an escaped felon, the Emergency Regs would smooth over any issues about you being shot," the Brigadier said.
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Sowerbutt's Stakes

“He is a truculent fellow, Prime Minister, and not exactly full of enthusiasm for the job. However, he will be at RAF Leuchars at gunpoint if necessary. The stakes are too high to fail.”

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