Sowerbutt's Knife

Sowerbutt palmed his razor-sharp clasp-knife, he remembered lifting it years earlier from a girl guide during a brief encounter at Poplar Rec.

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Sowerbutt's Partnership

“You are offering a partnership, Coronel? Building luxury hotels in an out-of-the-way Costa Blanca fishing village for foreign tourists?”

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Sowerbutt's Holiday

The Brigadier said: "A long holiday abroad is the answer for you, Sorbay. Different opposition now with this Cold War. I hear the Russkies want a bit of a chat with you."

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Sowerbutt's Shrapnel

The sudden white and yellow burst in the night sky was the last thing the SS Standartenführer saw; red-hot shrapnel from the 3.7-inch AA shell shredding through his chest.

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Sowerbutt's Body

The smoking body swayed in the light wind, the billowing parachute above shielding what had happened from the Heinkel 111 bomb-aimer peering through the Plexiglas several thousand feet above.
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Sowerbutt's Letters

By the time the body hit the roadway with a sickening crunch, the letters and other papers secured in a calfskin pouch hanging around the parachutist’s neck had burnt to ash. 

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Sowerbutt's Blackout

 “Can’t see my bleeding hand in front of my face in this blackout,” the Home Guard lance-corporal said.

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Sowerbutt's Explosions

Away to the north, sirens wailed and fingers of light were stabbing the night sky. Explosion after explosion could be heard with flashes of flames and huge spirals of burning debris from the bombed buildings.

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Sowerbutt's Boot

Holding his rifle at the ready, the lance-corporal slowly lifted a corner of the canopy with his boot. His face went white, his jaw dropping. Looking at the partly-charred remains, the parachutist no longer presented any danger.

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Sowerbutt's Praise

“We appreciate your dedication to duty, lance-corporal, and your bravery. Your life could have been at risk if that Jerry parachutist had been alive."

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Sowerbutt's Parachutist

A mile or two to the north of the Leather Bottle, an SS Brigadefuhrer, also dressed in Luftwaffe overalls, had landed safely in a small meadow near the River Lea.

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Sowerbutt's Luton

Luton, famous for its millinery and motor vehicles, suffered its first and its worst air raid on Friday, August 30, 1940. The Luftwaffe dropped 194 bombs, killing 59 people and seriously injuring 60.

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Sowerbutt's Stick

Madame Komarovski, who had barely escaped with her life as a young girl in the disastrous celebrations for Tsar Nicholas’s coronation in 1896, whacked the boy’s rear with what she called her guidance stick.

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Sowerbutt's Dance

The Coach said: "I put you down for this week’s ballet session, Jimmy. Don’t be late, Madame Dragon-fire will have your hide.”

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Sowerbutt's Talks

Churchill growled: “Jerries dropping in all over the place. First, you organise the Swansea Ferry as you have named it. Guns and paratroopers popping in for a chat. Now some high-level emissaries are coming over for afternoon tea."

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Sowerbutt's Plan

Brendan Bracken said: “Lifting our skirts a little may persuade the Little Corporal that we are interested in a spot of tête-à-tête rather than fisticuffs. In the confusion, he may delay the invasion for a week or two and then it will be too late for this year."

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Sowerbutt's Contacts

Churchill said: “I harbour no doubts that my difficult Foreign Secretary has daily contacts with his favourite, the pharaoh of Rome, and maybe Jerry too."

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Sowerbutt's Wrath

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.

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Sowerbutt's Emissary

“We are sure no Jerry or Eyetie spies remain at large. All in the bag. Must be Blackshirts who whisked the emissary away or one of the Looney Tunes right-wingers."

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Sowerbutt's Hunt

The Prime Minister refilled his glass. “Find the Jerry, Brendan, track him to his lair and clear up the mess. Trailing our coat may save the Empire, but the risks are high."
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Sowerbutt's Slap

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."

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Sowerbutt's Silk

Sid Sirrett, the genial landlord, leant over the bar of the Leather Bottle in East Hyde. “What’s all this about some silk, Alf? You being an old bachelor and all. I didn’t think you were into ladies’ finery.”

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Sowerbutt's beer

With all the VIPs wandering around the village, the landlord had hurriedly locked up the stables at the back of the pub where he did his brewing, fearing Customs and Excise might pay a visit too.

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Soowerbutt's Parachute

“It was when we were out searching in the fields, the officer didn’t say for what. A couple of the boys caught a rabbit, but I noticed somebody had been digging down near the river. I went back there later when it was all quiet and found a big bundle of silk. A parachute.”

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Sowerbutt's Offer

“Does he prefer boys, darling?” the slim blonde said to her companion at the party in fashionable Cromwell Road. “I’ve offered him absolutely everything, don’t you know, but the ingrate says he is waiting for someone."

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Sowerbutt's Habit

“May I introduce SS Brigadefuhrer Wilhelm Henschke or Willy to his friends. Don’t put your arm up, Willy, there’s a good chap. You must get out of the habit during your sojourn over here.”

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Sowerbutt's Discussions

The SS Brigadefuhrer said: “We must discuss your politics straightaway, Mr de Wolkova. I have to pass on my message to Dublin urgently."

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Sowerbutt's Progress

The SS Brigadefuhrer stood. “My trip to England has been a success; the Reichsmarschall will be pleased. When I return to the Reich I will report personally to him at Carinhall about our progress.”

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Sowerbutt's Suggestion

De Wolkova looked at the Brigadefuhrer. “You will want to meet more members of the Peace Party, to hear what they have to say too? We have many important members.”

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Sowerbutt's Neck

One-Line, a giant of a man, held the skinny youth by the neck at arm’s length, his legs kicking in the air. “You’re strangling me, mister, I can’t breathe.”

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Sowerbutt's Forger

The Scribe, who operated out of a small garage in Peckham, was the best forger in the East End. Since the war started, he had cornered most of the profitable market for forged medical exemptions, petrol coupons, ration books and approvals for the myriad of wartime regulations.

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Sowerbutt's Gunshot

The crack of the gunshot filled the bedroom, followed by a deathly silence; Sowerbutt watching aghast as a small black hole with blood welling out appeared in the forehead of the man bound in the chair.

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Sowerbutt's Escape

The two men were out of the back window of the terrace and across the garden wall into the adjacent clothing factory site within seconds. Their rubber-soled boots had not made a sound. Dogs across the neighbourhood had started their cacophony after the gunshot.

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Sowerbutt's Photographs

“When I was a young woman in Moscow, I worked part-time for the Okhrana, the Tsarist secret police. I entertained foreign diplomats, businessmen and so on. Photographs were taken on occasion. With the Revolution, the old files were taken over by the Reds."

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Sowerbutt's Car

The plump man’s eyes bulged. Downstairs in the yard, a giant of a man, holding a metal bar, stood beside a highly-polished Model-T Ford. It was Mr Witherspoon’s pride and joy. 

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Sowerbutt's Patience

Churchill snapped impatiently. “Politics is the art of the possible. I want it possible to save London. Do whatever is necessary.”

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Sowerbutt's Letter

A carbon-copy of the letter is contained in an acid-free archival storage box, kept under tight guard in an anonymous facility in the Home Counties, designated under the Official Secrets Act of 1989.

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Sowerbutt's Policy

“You will get used to me, Mr Witherspoon. I treat my friends very fairly, my enemies regret their decision.” Polly smiled.

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Sowerbutt's Blow

With a single blow of the metal bar, One-Line shattered the car's passenger window. Mr Witherspoon turned white and clutched at the window sill. He looked as though he had suffered a heart attack.

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Sowerbutt's Break-In

Tipper slipped through the shadows on the manicured lawns of the Italianate mansion in South Kensington. He froze, waiting for a couple of armed guards to pass, then picked his way towards the marble steps leading to the imposing front entrance.

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Sowerbutt's Robbery

"One of the bosses at New Scotland Yard has a theory about the Croydon robbery. They got away with a fortune ˗ more than £200,000, not that we’re letting on. He thinks it is an underground Blackshirt group, planning to use the money to finance some sort of pro-Jerry coup."

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Sowerbutt's Visit

The atmosphere in the fashionable Café de Paris in Coventry Street was different to his last visit, Sowerbutt thought. Quieter, more sombre. A lot of the men were in uniform.

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Sowerbutt's Letter

“We don’t relish receiving correspondence from our brother. Always carping on about a title for his lady wife, if that’s the word," the King said.

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Sowerbutt's Envoy

 

"The Empire wants some sort of arrangement, we would welcome a Jerry envoy. That is our only hope to save poor London,” Churchill growled.

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Sowerbutt's London

Brendan Bracken paused: “The bombing goes on night after night, Sorbay. It is relentless. Our information is that more Jerry bomber squadrons are waiting in the wings. How long can London take it?"

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Sowerbutt's Generals

Churchill sat at the large table, strewn with maps. “Do they think they outrank me? The generals believe they are a law unto themselves and not subject to the will of His Majesty’s duly-elected Government."

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Sowerbutt's Fist

One-Line's palm connected with the teacher‘s face with a loud smack. His huge fist could kill a man at close range, but Sowerbutt had told his friend to be gentle.

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Sowerbutt's Shave

He opened his razor-sharp clasp-knife and began shaving stubble from the shaking teacher’s face. “Traitors, are we? Haven’t seen you Reds do much for the war effort. Uncle Joe and Adolf kissing and cuddling together."

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Sowerbutt's Revenge

"There has been more trouble with the Russkies in London, all over the popular newspapers. Two men from their embassy discovered in compromising circumstances and a warehouse at the Docks, which we suspect has been smuggling goods to the Bolsheviks, burnt to the ground.”

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Sowerbutt's Aircraft

In the moonlit night sky, the twin-engine Jerry aircraft could be seen circling Barton airfield, its undercarriage down and its lights flickering in the agreed recognition code. 

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Sowerbutt's Aircraft

In the moonlit night sky, the twin-engine Jerry aircraft could be seen circling Barton airfield, its undercarriage down and its lights flickering in the agreed recognition code. 

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Sowerbutt's Slap

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."

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Sowerbutt's Silk

Sid Sirrett, the genial landlord, leant over the bar of the Leather Bottle in East Hyde. “What’s all this about some silk, Alf? You being an old bachelor and all. I didn’t think you were into ladies’ finery.”

https://www.amazon.com/Colour-Red-Deal-Sowerbutt-Novels-ebook/dp/B00RL9FGKM? 

Sowerbutt's Beer

With all the VIPs wandering around the village, the landlord had hurriedly locked up the stables at the back of the pub where he did his brewing, fearing Customs and Excise might pay a visit too.

https://www.amazon.com/Colour-Red-Deal-Sowerbutt-Novels-ebook/dp/B00RL9FGKM?

Sowerbutt's Parachute

“It was when we were out searching in the fields, the officer didn’t say for what. A couple of the boys caught a rabbit, but I noticed somebody had been digging down near the river. I went back there later when it was all quiet and found a big bundle of silk. A parachute.”

https://www.amazon.com/Colour-Red-Deal-Sowerbutt-Novels-ebook/dp/B00RL9FGKM?