Sowerbutt's Task

Sowerbutt had been listening to the 7 o’clock news read by Alvar Liddell with more gloom and doom about the bombing. “Time for a quick whiskey, Mr Sorbay,” said the smiling face as the slight military man popped his head into the private office at the brothel.  “A quick whiskey before you catch your train, that is. I hope you can make the 8 o’clock Weymouth express tonight. The 9 o’clock at the latest, I've checked they are running. I have a car outside and my other driver is collecting your colleagues. Just had a radio message from the embassy that our Senor Gonzales is a passenger on tonight’s BOAC service from Lisbon. He tells me that he is a good friend of ours, a convert to the cause you might say.

“But we would like you to keep an eye on him, a close eye, from the moment he steps off the launch at Poole to when he signs in at the Savoy. A watch on any contacts he might make.  A wink and a nod to someone, a slip of paper passed in the railway carriage corridor, I want to know about it."
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