Jo-Jo closed his eyes and stretched out on a settee. “Good to be out, Miss Polly, I can tell you.
Away from the stench and the screws. We heard something was on last night. They
came round at dawn this morning and told the blokes with a few months left to
go. They are short of screws with the call-up. Before we left, we had to sign a
paper, saying we would volunteer for the Army. As if. I legged
it straightaway to see Mr Sorbay. He told me to duck in and
see my Mum, then get the next train up here out the way. I didn’t know anything
about your Luton business.”
Sunday, 31 August 2014
Sowerbutt's Service
“Pray keep me informed of how
you placate our angry brothel-keeper. He has served his country well; he gets
things done unlike many in our Cabinet and the Chiefs of Staff. That the
Lord would give me a score of him to help win this dreadful war,”Churchill growled.
Sowerbutt's Customer
Brendan Bracken shook his head as he pulled a bottle of 1934 vintage Pol Roger from the ice-bucket near
Churchill’s bed. “Another of your job lot from Sorbay, Prime
Minister? You must allow me to organise your supplies.” Churchill’s blue eyes twinkled as he stretched
out on the bed, surrounded by a sea of papers, from crumpled pages of
The Times to top-secret Cabinet documents. “He delivered what the Cousins call
a good deal and ’34 was such an exceptional year, dear boy. A special price,
he said."
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Camouflage-Hitlers-Super-Spy-ebook/dp/B00HT48BN8Sowerbutt's Mate
"They’re releasing a lot
of lads on the inside early if they join up. I wonder if Jo-Jo is getting an early
ticket. I’ll check with his Mum.” Jo-Jo had worked for Polly
and her mother in the brothel for years but had made the mistake of breaking
the jaw and putting his boot between the legs of a visiting magistrate who had
got carried away with his cane. Not a word about the whereabouts of the crime
was mentioned at the Quarter Sessions, but the best the KC could
negotiate was two years.
Sowerbutt's Justice
“Madame Komarovski and Sal
were there. One of the lads threw a bucket of cold water over the rapist and I put a
bullet through his head before he was tossed in. The word has been passed
on.” Sowerbutt’s eyes widened; his lady was something else. Polly smiled sweetly. “Did I
do something wrong, Jimmy?” Before Sowerbutt had a chance
to answer, Polly snapped: “I will not have my ladies harmed. You
cross the line, you pay the price.”
Sowerbutt's Surprise
“The rest of the Reds, any
casualties?” Polly shook her head.
“The lads taught them a good lesson, but left their legs alone.
After we were finished, we let them run back, puffing and gasping, to
Whitechapel, spreading the word not to touch the Family. There was one
exception.” Sowerbutt had never seen this hard
side of Polly before. “The rapist, Jimmy. The crap who raped Sal. We
tied him to a lamppost not far away for the day with an ‘I am a rapist’ sign
around his neck. Our families were not impressed, he didn‘t have a good day. I
had him cut down after dark and barrowed up to The River."
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Camouflage-Hitlers-Super-Spy-ebook/dp/B00HT48BN8Sowerbutt's Anger
Sowerbutt looked at his glass
of Old Bushmills. “The sheer brass of the bastard. I go away with the lads, for
longer than expected admittedly, and McGaskie moves in. And you led the lads in to take the business back?” A sudden storm cloud passed
across Sowerbutt’s rugged face. “You were in danger? Did anybody touch you?” Polly liked the attention. “I stayed in the kitchen, Jimmy, isn’t that a woman’s place? With a
shooter."
Sowerbutt's Ketchup
As the door pulled
shut, two rifle shots rang out. The 8x57 bullets thudded
into the small man’s body within millimetres of each other over Whittle’s
heart. Sowerbutt watched from the bay window as the world changed gear into
slow motion. Whittle toppled over on the garden path, swallowing an obscenity
as he fell. Missionary leapt out of the car, shouting as he raced towards the
wing commander. Sowerbutt noticed the small container of ketchup, concealed in
front of Missionary’s body as he ran, invisible to any observer.
Sowerbutt's Binoculars
Behind the fine net curtains
of the front room of Wing-Commander Whittle’s house, Sowerbutt grinned. He put down the
brand-new Zeiss sea binoculars that John had brought. God knows where the
slight military man had got his hands on new German-manufactured binoculars, a
year into the war. “He’s here, John, the Ghost is here. Nero has
spotted him. It’s on.”
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Camouflage-Hitlers-Super-Spy-ebook/dp/B00HT48BN8Sowerbutt's Eyes
Both men thought they
were invisible to any watchers, one was, one wasn’t. In the minutes before
dawn, Gerhard had hidden himself in an allotment shed with a clear view of
Wing-Commander Whittle’s front door down the street. Slowly, silently, he
rested the barrel of the stripped-down Gewehr 98 on the ledge of the
partially-open window. It was that movement when the rest of the street was
perfectly still that caught Nero’s sharp eyes.
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
Sunday, 24 August 2014
Sowerbutt's Slap
Sowerbutt smiled. “I’ll buy you a new hat. They make them in
Luton, not far by LMS. They
had a bad raid yesterday but the vehicle works is on the edge of town. I’ve got us a nice place near the shops.” The slap could be heard outside in the bar. The angry redhead leant over
the desk, her finger inches from Sowerbutt’s surprised face. “You bastard. We’re partners, so you
said, you discuss things with me first. You have bought somewhere already, you can stick your Luton you know where.”
Sowerbutt's Past
"What about that raid last weekend, the City and Millwall copped it. Just
the start. I saw it all in Guernica, death and destruction. You can’t imagine what it’s like.”
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
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 Fears
Sowerbutt took a mouthful of tea. “We are all in danger of getting killed if we stay here. Look at the fight the
Brylcreem Boys are putting up to stop the Jerries. Day after day and planes
dropping like flies. I heard they downed tools at Manston the other
day, had enough of it."
Sowerbutt's Food
Polly smiled: “I’ll be glad of some decent food. The rations are
hopeless, that is if you can find anything. It is
alright the politicians talking about fighting Jerry on the beaches.
Meanwhile we’re wasting away. Talk
about slim figures, walking skeletons more like."
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
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 Rivals
“We know the Jerry is here,
thanks to the information of Mr Weizmann, our President. We just have to find
him. But he is of no use to us dead. Bodies don’t talk and they are hard to
keep.”
Sowerbutt's Hunt
The Prime Minister refilled his glass from the Hine bottle. “Find the Jerry, dear boy, track him to his lair and
clear up the mess. Trailing our coat may save the Empire, but the risks are
high."
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
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 Explosion
The explosion could be heard well beyond the walls of the Cabinet Room.
Officials and servants nearby hurriedly found pressing tasks elsewhere, it did
not pay to be a witness to the Prime Minister’s wrath.
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
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 Keys
"I’m going to get my own back on
that front of house manager, trying to pinch my tips. I’ve got hold of some
spare keys and I’m going to give
them to Mr Sorbay. Once he has done his business, I’ll slip the keys into the manager’s locker. He’ll get the blame for anything that’s missing."
Sowerbutt's Parachutist
By the time the body hit the
roadway near the village of East Ryde in Bedfordshire with a sickening crunch, the letters and other papers secured in a
calfskin pouch hanging around the dead man’s neck had burnt to ash. It was
indistinguishable from the charred remnants of the overalls and the borrowed
Luftwaffe uniform underneath.
Sowerbutt's Funeral
A curious assortment of eyes watched the coffin being lowered into the
grave at the old cemetery, a stone’s throw from Mile End Road in London’s East End.
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
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
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