WO, who had served in various far-flung outposts across the
Empire, shivered. He had seen the look on Sowerbutt’s face before - during the vicious fighting in Cable Street four years earlier. It was
not a face for the faint-hearted. “Watch your back,
old lad. Whatever I can do to help you, you know that.”
Sunday, 27 April 2014
Sowerbutt's Pledge
Strapping on his shoulder holster, he turned to WO Barker, his voice
sub-zero. “Nobody touches the Family and
lives. That teacher and his idiots are finished. I’ll swear this in
front of you now, my old friend. If Tipper is gone, the Bolshie embassy
will disappear and I will cut down every last Red in the Smoke. Blood running
in the streets like you have never seen before.”
Sowerbutt's Anger
Few people had seen Sowerbutt lose his temper; he had
learnt to keep tight control on his emotions. During the Spanish war, you kept your focus or you missed your target. Spaghetti and WO
both jumped as the half-empty bottle of Old Bushmills was smashed on the desk,
fragments of glass flying everywhere and whiskey spilling across the top.
Shaking the jagged neck of the bottle in his fist, Sowerbutt shouted: “Got Tipper? By all that’s sacred, this is
war. I’ll gut that teacher
myself and string his mates up twitching. I’ve had enough.”
Sowerbutt's Friend
Sowerbutt could see disaster written across the tough old soldier’s face. His voice icy, he asked: “What message couldn’t you trust the boys with?”
WO Barker had headed a Blackshirts I section which organised security at
the sometimes violent public meetings held by the British Union of Fascists in the
years before the war. He and his men had been in the thick of the bitter
fighting in the Battle of Cable Street.
He smiled wryly: “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, old son. The Reds - the Stepney lot - have got young
Tipper."http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Camouflage-Hitlers-Super-Spy-ebook/dp/B00HT48BN8
Sowerbutt's Bullet
It was the last thing the man did. A single 8x57 bullet thudded into the centre of his forehead. The body
lifted and crumpled backwards onto the dirt track. Nero let in the clutch and the van rolled forward. One-Line jumped out the
back, picked up the body and slid it inside in one smooth movement. Spaghetti
scooped up a small patch of blood with a shovel and bucket and within seconds
the van sped away, heading for The River. Sowerbutt
walked quickly back to his motorbike.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Camouflage-Hitlers-Super-Spy-ebook/dp/B00HT48BN8
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Camouflage-Hitlers-Super-Spy-ebook/dp/B00HT48BN8
Sowerbutt's Signs
Sowerbutt glanced out
the car window as they headed for Cambridgeshire and the old Roman road to
Norwich. “Glad you know the way, Nero. Haven’t seen a signpost since we left
the Smoke.”
“Most of them have been collected in for
scrap metal, Mr Sorbay, and to confuse the Jerry parachutists. You only see the
odd one and sometimes a milestone that they’ve missed these days.”
Sowerbutt's Plot
“Nero got some of
that filthy white powder from Soho and we left it at the teacher’s
place as a gift.”
Sowerbutt grinned: “After a quiet chat with Sergeant Le Clay, Nero and I made it over to
Whitechapel just in time. Lot of stoppers and reservists there. Some went round the back and then Le Clay kicked
the front door in and in they went. Lot of shouting and a right kerfuffle.
“Then the teacher and the old couple who
live in the house - pair of
long-time Reds - were brought
out in handcuffs and pushed into a police van. One stopper brought out a gun - Nagant, we saw it in his bedroom. Must be
illegal. Another stopper came out carrying a kitchen tray. A paper bag and a pill box on it; that’s what we left the white stuff in."
Sowerbutt's Gift
“Twice in a
couple of days? What’s going on, Sorbay?” Polly laughed as Sowerbutt walked
into the Cheapside flat.
He pulled a small box out of his pocket, he had
visited his jeweller friend in Paddington before just making the train at St
Pancras.
Polly’s eyes
widened. “A silver filigree and mesh bracelet, Jimmy? And
these are real diamonds. It must have cost you an absolute fortune.”
Sowerbutt
grinned: “Only the best for my lady. I’m trying to make up for not
seeing you as much as I’d like.”
Polly stood in
the middle of the loungeroom, holding the bracelet, with tears running down
her cheeks.
Sowerbutt would never understand women. “You like it, you don’t like it. I
can change it.”
“Of course, I like it, you
big oaf. I love it,” Polly beamed. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Camouflage-Hitlers-Super-Spy-ebook/dp/B00HT48BN8
Sowerbutt's Help
Sowerbutt smiled:
“You know my policy, sergeant. We always help the authorities whenever we can. One of my girls was visited by a
new client yesterday. London lad. I’ll get her to speak to you if you like. But
she‘s a bit emotional, lost family in the bombing."
Sowerbutt ran his
hand through his long hair. “Disgusting, sergeant. The lad invited her to a
drug party over in Whitechapel. He talked about a white powder. Cocaine, is it?
I won’t have a bar of drugs, filthy stuff.
Look at those Chinese blokes down in Limehouse, makes them stupid."
Sowerbutt's Query
“Keeping out of mischief,
sergeant? Last time you were here, you were talking about
that city robbery. What did the papers call it, smash and grab?” Sowerbutt
smiled.
Sergeant Le Clay
shook his head. “Foreigners after Dunkirk. A lot of them have gone back
to France as you know. No checks were made, of
course. Didn’t want to provoke Vichy, I was told. What rubbish, wouldn’t
surprise me if the half-a-million, or whatever it was, is now stashed under a
bed in Cherbourg somewhere, waiting for the end of the war.”
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