Sowerbutt's Scandal

For once, Brendan Bracken was taken by surprise. “French champagne in Luton, I don’t believe it.” Sowerbutt grinned: “May I introduce Maxwell Mercy, manager of The George, late of the Dorchester.” He made no mention of Mercy’s hurried exit from the Mayfair hotel after a scandal with a duke’s daughter.

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Sowerbutt's Body

Shining their torches into the hole, Spaghetti and Panda could see the head of a large middle-aged man. The face was black and blue.
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Sowerbutt's Blood

Unholstering his revolver, Spaghetti hurried over to where Panda was crouching beside a large stain on the floor. Holding up his finger, he whispered: “Blood, lots of it.”

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Sowerbutt's Break-In

At the top of the ladder, Panda slipped the window latch in seconds with his flick-knife; climbing inside the brick warehouse without a hitch.
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Sowerbutt's Darkness

The delivery yard behind Piper’s warehouse was pitch-black. Despite occasional glimpses of the moon through the clouds, it was hard to see further than your hand in front of your face.
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Sowerbutt's Plan

“We must mobilise every resource, take every risk, sacrifice everything we hold dear to bring the New World into this terrible war and defeat Jerry,” Churchill growled.

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Sowerbutt's Factories

Churchill's chin jutted forward in his bulldog pose. “This war will be won by America’s industrial might, Brendan. Their factories will produce the rifles, the tanks, the aeroplanes we must have to beat Jerry. But we cannot pay, our reserves are spent."
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Sowerbutt's Survival

“Amid the death and destruction, St Paul’s still survives and I have ordered men and machinery to defend it to the last.  The magnificent dome is a symbol of our Empire," Churchill growled.
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Sowerbutt's Fire

“We must brace ourselves, dear Brendan,” the Prime Minister said. “The heart of the Empire, the ancient City of London, will be no more by daybreak. A firestorm, the like of which has never been seen before, rages through the medieval streets. It is the Great Fire of London, almost three centuries later but ten times the ferocity."

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Sowerbutt's Medal

“An incendiary lodged up in the dome. Dry old timber up there, would have gone up in a flash. One of the Cathedral fire-watchers – a clergyman, young bloke – got hold of it and pushed it out, bold as brass. Tumbled down to the street and was dealt with. He’d have been burnt to a cinder if the timber beams had caught. Deserves a medal.”

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Sowerbutt's Cathedral

Sowerbutt looked up, the great Cathedral was ringed by fire; buildings in Canon Street were well alight. It was almost a miracle but the Cathedral still stood above the flames; the great dome surrounded by a pinky-red haze and swirls of black smoke.

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Sowerbutt's Vehicle

"They press-ganged the VIP vehicle to carry the gelignite. They are blowing fire breaks through the City buildings to stop the flames spreading. The lads call it the Curtains Car. Imagine the fun and games if a Jerry bomb hit it.”
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Sowerbutt's Flames

Sowerbutt pulled off his jacket and began beating the flames, kicking over a wooden fence that ran alongside the burning hedge.
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Sowerbutt's Fire

“God preserve me,” the Sapper sergeant said. “I’ve got Winnie’s official armoured car and a conscript driver who hasn’t passed his bleeding test. Get the lady into reverse, son. We haven’t got all day, there’s a fire up our tail.”

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Sowerbutt's Incendiary

A couple of the small bombs flared bright white as they bounced off St Paul's walls, Spaghetti pointing to one which had buried itself in the adjacent garden.
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Sowerbutt's Diamonds

"There’s a geezer with a fancy name. He’s called a King’s Messenger, works for the Government blokes. He travels around the place with papers and stuff – on aeroplanes. Hard with the war on, but he goes to Lisbon, Sweden, the States and Canada, so he says. He’s got a bloke in Sweden who has found something called a diamond pipe up in their frozen north. Uncut diamonds, industrial quality.”

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Sowerbutt's Cash

The slight military man took two wads of £10 notes from his overcoat pocket. He counted out £500 onto the dressing table. “You'll like this, Mr Le Vay. Cash, no percentage to your agent. Nothing to do with Inland Revenue. More than you earn in a year."

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Sowerbutt's Pantomime

The slight military man was not enjoying the two-hour production of Aladdin for which he had bought a 10/- box ticket. Perhaps it was the excited children and their families in the Grand Theatre, Luton, laughing and shouting at the twists and turns of the traditional plot. 
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Sowerbutt's Appearance

“Blimey, you two must have come for the fashion show?” said the auxiliary fireman, standing near the entrance to St Paul’s Cathedral. Sowerbutt and Spaghetti burst out laughing. Sowerbutt’s jacket was torn and burnt; what was left of his white shirt was streaked with ash and brick dust.  Spaghetti’s black hair was dusted with white ash and his overcoat was muddy and torn, holed by flying pieces of burning debris.

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Sowerbutt's Knife

With a shocked expression on his face, the man stood motionless for a second, his arms outstretched. He pitched forward, dead, his knife clattering across the roadway. 

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Sowerbutt's Bullet

Missionary calmly raised his Webley and fired, the bullet hitting the man in the middle of his forehead. 
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Sowerbutt's Knife

The man’s voice rising, he shouted: “Come on, boy. Fight like a man. Are you scared of me? Hijo de puta.” He pulled a long-bladed knife from his belt and took a step forward.

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Sowerbutt's Shed

The shed turned into a frozen tableau. The street boys stood stock still, ready to run. The Spaniards, muttered and looked sullen, ready for a fight.
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Sowerbutt's Shotgun

Missionary nodded to one of his companions with a shotgun who fired at a fence running away from the large shed. The pattern of shot would have killed anyone standing in the way.

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Sowerbutt's Fight

The two groups eyed each other warily – half-a-dozen street boys and some of the crew from a Spanish freighter tied up in Millwall Docks.
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Sowerbutt's Men

No-one noticed four men, dressed in black, slip into the shadows. Two were armed with Webley revolvers, two with shotguns. Their good-looking leader calmly watched the looting for a couple of minutes.

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Sowerbutt's Bombs

Wave after wave of Heinkels and Dorniers could be seen dropping their loads of bombs and incendiaries to fuel the blazes below. 
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Sowerbutt's Fire

To the west, the sky had turned orangey-red as large fires in the City licked skyward. Huge spirals of sparks were caught on the upward air currents.

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Sowerbutt's Job

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

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Sowerbutt's Streets

Churchill growled: "You have much to tell me, Brendan. Are we on the verge of revolution? Will the Reds seize the streets of our great city and murder us in our beds?"
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