Sowerbutt's Friend

“Sorbay,” Churchill said, sipping his Hine. “Splendid fellow, always gets things done. We need a clean sweep through Brigadier Harker’s MI5 of madness and mayhem. Is Sorbay our man?”

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Sowerbutt's Bath

In the midst of the steaming water in the cast-iron bathtub, which had accommodated many famous bodies, a bright pink whale was splashing around; a couple of wooden boats that Churchill had treasured since  childhood bobbing up and down between the icebergs of soapsuds. A reminder about the five inches of bathwater rule had gone unheeded.

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Sowerbutt's News

Brendan Bracken said: “By letter or word of mouth, the news should be with that Jerry scoundrel, Eduard Hempel, in Dublin in a day or two. The censors have been primed to allow any letters through. You’ve briefed Sorbay on the story to put round the pubs in the Irish Quarter?”

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Sowerbutt's Friend

“Always in trouble, Sorbay,” Brendan Bracken smiled. “Facing down mad Poles, finding bombs, saving the Tower. Whatever next?”
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Sowerbutt's Shooting

The two Polish soldiers spun around, their Lee-Enfields pointing directly at Sowerbutt. “Who are you, what do you want?” snapped Lance Sergeant Swirski. “Clear off before we shoot you.”

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Sowerbutt's Assassination

Strapping on his shoulder holster, Sowerbutt said: “Two of them means an assassination, not enough for an attack or a kidnap. Wonder who is there at Luton Hoo?"
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Sowerbutt's Bullet

Sowerbutt remembered the time when he knew he was in the sights of a Republican Mauser rifle just outside Madrid. Everything around him went into sharp focus. His lightning-quick reactions saved his life; the bullet missing his head by inches.
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