Sowerbutt's Knowledge

Churchill paused as he passed Bracken’s chair, his eyes twinkling. “Mr Sorbay, dear boy, the man who deserves a medal. He was in the thick of it when we met. What messages does he have for us about his people? How long they can take the bombing? He must know how they feel, you tell me he runs half of London. I must question the fellow immediately.”

Bracken looked up with a start, he could not risk Sowerbutt meeting the Prime Minister again. “Leave it to me, Prime Minister. You must not invite him to No 10. The House would not stand for the Prime Minister colluding with a brothel-keeper. Nothing like that has happened since the days of Gladstone, a Liberal, thank God.”

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Absence

Polly heard a loud gasp as the stunning model swaggered along the catwalk. The audience stood as one, clapping, shouting and waving. One grey-haired woman in the front row put her fingers to her mouth and whistled. It was a triumph. As the smiling model left, George beamed, took Polly’s arm and led her up onto the catwalk. With the audience continuing to clap and cheer, she beckoned Dot, June, the other girls and Mr Witherspoon up onto the stage. “They adore your hats, dear one. I knew they would just fall in love with your beautiful collection the minute they saw them. The orders are going to pour in, I know it, I just know it,” George whispered as he bowed and waved to the crowd. Polly beamed and blew kisses to the audience, what a moment to remember. She wished Sowerbutt was there at her side to share her triumph, the girls’ wonderful creations and the audience’s sensational response. But she had not heard from her man for a couple of days.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Memories

Spaghetti sipped his whiskey: “This one is like the bullion the South London gang knocked off at the aerodrome a few years ago, not long before you went on holiday. Stoppers didn’t have a clue.”

“That’s right, Spaghetti, I remember that. Croydon has never been too hot on security, has it?” Sowerbutt  grinned.

“I think it was ’35, guv. The stoppers fitted up one bloke and he went down, still inside. I heard the gold found its way across the Channel, couple of the lads involved are living safe and sound in Portugal and another is risking it with a hotel on the beachfront at Brighton. Probably full of hungry army squaddies now.”

Sowerbutt said: “They just strolled in too if I recall. Let’s hope it stays as quiet for us." http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Money

Spaghetti put down the paper. “You can’t believe the newspapers, and the stoppers still might have something up their sleeves. But it is looking good, guv, isn’t it? The notes are stashed safely? Some of the lads were worrying with the bombing.”

“We should be right,” Sowerbutt said. “I’ve put a load in Wapping tube station which goes down a long way. The Luton consignment is in a nearby village, well away from any Jerry bombing run.

“In a year or two, we’ll start giving the money out to the lads in small sums and nobody will be any the wiser. If the Jerries take over and change the currency, we will spread the old notes out quickly. Pride comes before a fall, but hard to see how the stoppers could trace the snatch as they call it back to us. The job for Tipper, you and I is to keep the lads buttoned up.”

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Mail

The robbery had gone smoothly so far, he had nothing to worry about, Sowerbutt told himself. Two mail bags were stashed in the car boot and one on the back seat, covered with an old blanket. He was ready to speed off as soon as Sally and her friend returned at the agreed time. The lads would head back in the Chevy truck painted in the livery of a non-existent transport company and the Austin builder’s van. The plan was to drop some canvas over the truck’s side on the way back to the Smoke; the builder’s van had been smothered in mud and sand to obscure any names.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Pride

Sowerbutt grunted as Polly jabbed him in the ribs, then put her arms round him. “I don’t know a thing about hats, Jimmy, apart from what I like and don’t like. You drag me up here, you bad man, and now I’m running a hat factory. Have you seen the warehouse, it looks so much better. We’ve turned a male pigsty into a pleasant workplace. My ladies are brilliant. Great ideas for design and they work hard on making the best hats. It is going to be a good business with openings for some of our girls from home.”

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Muscle

Brendan Bracken nodded: “There’s an airfield at Barton up in Bedfordshire. Flew in there on one nightmare occasion with Harry Wernher, never again. RAF has requisitioned it now, I’m told. We could easily go on to Luton Hoo, which is about 15-20 minutes away, for the talks, Eastern Command HQ as you know. Besides Sowerbutt is working up in Luton, isn’t he. We’ll use his muscle to seal off the area. The fewer official fingerprints on our envoy, whoever he is, the better.”

The military man swallowed the rest of his Black Label. “I’ll motor up there, sir, and make some discreet inquiries. We’ll need a flight plan from someone we can trust in the RAF and we can lock down the nearby RAF bases, AA emplacements, radar stations etc on the night. We don’t want some enthusiast shooting down the Jerry plane, do we?”

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Cushions

Sowerbutt was looking forward to some time with his lady; a quiet meal in the small dining room at the George Hotel, round the corner in George Street, was the plan. The kindly chef was past the call-up age but still passionate about his cooking. His liver dumplings with fried onions and roast breast of lamb with mint stuffing were legendary across Bedfordshire. Sowerbutt licked his lips thinking about the chef’s spiced apple fool.

Smiling, he opened the door to the upstairs flat to be greeted by two high-heel shoes followed by the local, thankfully thin, telephone directory. “Ooh, you bastard, I’m running out of things to throw at you,” Polly shouted. Fending off a succession of red, black and gold cushions from the settee, he made his way into the lounge-room. He never knew what to expect with Polly, anger or amore.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Breakfast

Spaghetti knelt down besides his cousin, pale-faced and sweating but still conscious. Checking the rough tourniquet on his leg, he called to Missionary and the two men carried the wounded cousin in a fireman’s hold to the army huts behind Luton Hoo. An army doctor cleaned and bandaged the leg before a camouflaged ambulance, bell clanging, took the patient to the new hospital on Dunstable Road.

“Alright lads, you’ve done well. Let’s be on our way and leave someone else to clean up the mess. See you in the Engine for a good breakfast,” Sowerbutt grinned.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Melee

Another Irish lad fell before One-Line’s onslaught, then he was caught up in the melee where Sowerbutt’s men were coshing Irishmen and exchanging punches. One of Spaghetti’s cousins was facing down a burly Irishman with his Frosolone flick-knife, opening and closing the razor-sharp blade; the Irishman mesmerised. The cousin jabbed at the big man, slashing his jacket. With a shout, the Irishman swung his fist, dropping to his knees and staring at his bloody arm in disbelief where a second lightning-fast lunge had left its mark. The cousin wiped his blade on the stunned man’s jacket, pushed him over and turned back to the fight.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Memory

Sowerbutt, concealed behind a nearby holly bush, watched in slow motion as One-Line charged the IRA line, bellowing like an angry bull. He had seen his friend run wild before; outside a pub in Whitechapel where some Reds drank. Three men had tumbled to the pavement like nine-pins, the other three fled. Inside the pub was pandemonium as drinkers dropped their pints on the floor, jumped the bar and raced through the kitchen, trying to escape the wild man.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Battle Plan

“I’d say they will come down the track single-file or two abreast. Muscle in front, perhaps the big guy that Nero mentioned. The leader behind him and then the rank-and-file. Somebody experienced at the back. They’ll all have shooters if they are planning to take on the army. But they won’t be expecting anything, they’ll just be on the lookout for army patrols," Sowerbutt said.

“I want One-Line to start off at the front, his man won’t get up. I’ll go for the ones behind and use my shooter if necessary. The lads will fall in from both sides and I’ll put Missionary at the rear. He can use his shooter if anyone breaks out, we want a clean job. Brendan Bracken will clear up any mess.”
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Housekeeping

The two men were sitting at the dining table in the Cheapside flat. Sowerbutt had insisted on covering it with layers of newspapers, “otherwise I’m a dead man. She will kill me if it is marked”.

Spaghetti had a pot of heavy-duty engine grease in front of him and was slowly rubbing it into his wooden cosh. Sowerbutt was cleaning his Smith & Wesson.
“That stuff stinks, Spaghetti, why do you always use it?”
“An old boy down at the East India, guv, gave me the tip. He used to tell me stories about the fights in the old days to get jobs. His length served him all his days, he still had it when we used to chat. The ones the other dockers had, he said, would splinter on a dustbin lid or an iron bar.”
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Fight

“The go is fists and coshes. Deck them with your first hit or the second at the most. Only shoot if absolutely necessary and then make sure you get the mark. Dead men don’t point fingers. Nero will have rope in the side-car, so we’ll gag and truss them. Afterwards, we’ll disappear and the stoppers or the Redcaps can take over and make up whatever story they want.

“A couple of army doctors are stationed at Luton Hoo if anybody is badly hurt and, remember, they are on our side. If it is serious, they’ll whisk you down to that new hospital on the Dunstable Road.”
Sowerbutt looked at the lads. “One warning. The Irish lads love their explosives. Can’t imagine what they would want to blow up at Luton Hoo. But you never know, be careful. I don’t like taking risks."
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1

Sowerbutt's Ambush

“I’ll take 10 of you and we’ll lay an ambush on the track. The element of surprise should do the trick. Spaghetti plus four can look after the side track just in case. Spaghetti, get across to us as soon as you hear any shots or shouting - that is as long as you are all quiet. Three of you stay on the main road as a mobile reserve and also take care of their driver.”

Sowerbutt took a sip of his tea. “You all take your shooters, Spaghetti will check them. We’ve brought up some sawn-offs from the Smoke, just in case. Knives, coshes, knuckles, whatever you normally have."
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1