Shadows of Deceit

By Patrick Cotter

The unimaginable becomes reality. This is the dark domain that Harry Davies enters by chance after helping a stranger in trouble. He is drawn ever deeper into an organization where corruption and treachery prevail. An experience that is set against the backdrop of life in Britain and Ireland during the Second World War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AUK Authors
• Release date: Jun 24, 2010
• ISBN: 9781849891530

Book preview

guidance.

Chapter 1

Glasgow 1942

The room stank of wet dogs mixed with a noxious blend of cigarette smoke, sputtering steam from a kettle and the unmistakable tinge of gas escaping from the perished hose of the ring used to heat the water. Harry joined the queue of people waiting in line. A youth at the front shuffled to the hatch and thrust a pocket watch through the grille to the woman staring at him from the other side. She examined it and beckoned the lad nearer.

This will be profanity with intimacy, listen carefully.

She coughed as his eyes narrowed quizzically.

Come closer.

He moved his head nearer to the barrier.

Now bugger off you thieving prick. This is your Grandfather’s watch - your Mum would bring it in herself if she needed to pawn it again. Get out of here and take it back to her now!

Stunned by the outburst the youth initially froze. Then his eyes began to blink rapidly just as the redness of his embarrassment flushed his neck and cheeks. A moment later he recovered enough to scoop the watch into his pocket and head out of the door mouthing some incoherent swear words of his own.

Next!

The woman shouted as she wiped her brow.

Harry looked around; nothing had changed since his last visit. The single low wattage bulb cast a faint radiance across faded pictures and some sad-looking stuffed animals in glass tanks. The queue dragged itself forward again. A man wearing a cap was now being interviewed at the wire hatch, clutching in his hands the mantel clock he had brought in to exchange for cash. The shopkeeper negotiated a value and some folded banknotes were handed over. The man turned with some difficulty, limping slightly, as he briefly looked up at Harry, then moved around him, concealing in the pocket of his overcoat, the hand that held the money. The shopkeeper lit another cigarette and coughed again, Next!

Harry watched her repeat the ritual of slowly examining the articles being presented before agreeing a modest price. Soon it was his turn; he held out the ticket and she looked up.

That makes a change; you’re redeeming something - the first one today.

Only when she leaned forward to look at the ticket could he see her properly. A large white bloated face with dyed black hair pulled tightly back. Her cheeks pock-marked and her eyes tiny and red-rimmed. She wore a generous faded linen dress that Harry thought was more suited to summer than the current wintry weather being experienced. She turned the ticket over to verify the serial number against the records listed in her ledger.

Two other customers entered the shop, a man and a young woman carrying a baby. The proprietor raised her eyes and squinted, trying to recognise them, and then turned her head towards Harry again.

You’ll wait a minute while we get it.

Her strong accent rasped in her throat as she turned her bulk with some difficulty towards an inner door.

Fraser! Fraser! She shouted with increasing volume.

There was a noise from the back room as though someone had just jumped to attention.

Get this ring for me, here’s the ticket.

As she slid the ticket down the counter Harry noticed that several of her over-sized fingers were tightly waisted by her display of expensive looking rings. She was almost breathless now; the energy needed to move having exhausted her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and coughed again.

I’ll serve someone else.

Harry stepped aside. Almost two minutes passed before he looked at his watch, an action that had been observed by the woman.

She turned her head,

Fraser, how often do I have to tell you, can you get this article!

Fraser emerged from the gloom of the back room chewing something. He was small and thin, his eyes flashed nervously upon realising that he was now in the gaze of the public. He avoided any contact with his wife whilst he reached for the ticket, retrieved the ring and pushed it towards her with his slender fingertips. He then returned to his refuge, cat-like, creeping, so as not to create any sound.

Harry exchanged money for the ring and left.

It was now dark and damp, and earlier rain showers had left the cobbles shiny and slippery. The light from the moon, struggling to win through the mist of fast moving clouds, was the only illumination. He stopped in a shop doorway and lit a cigarette. The view across the street was fairly depressing; some boarded-up shops with apartments above and the remains of market produce trodden into the road. A distant locomotive whistle was the only sound drifting towards him until he became distracted by something closer. He heard a commotion, a fight. He looked down the street to see a man being beaten up by two youths. Harry immediately ran to the scene and managed to frighten off the attackers as he approached.

Are you alright? he asked helping the victim to his feet.

Still quite breathless the man was barely able to squeeze out a response.

I’ll be fine, they didn’t get anything. I was just surprised, shock I suppose.

Harry realised that he was helping the person in the long overcoat whom he’d seen in the pawn shop queue.

They must have seen me coming out.

Can I walk you to your door or get a taxi for you?

The man pointed across the street, grateful for Harry’s arm in support.

I live just over there.

His breathing returned to normal as they made their way slowly across the road. He carefully turned the key of the peeling front door and pushed it open with some effort,

It sticks a bit. Please come in and I’ll shut it again.

Harry followed inside as the man switched on the light that lit the top of the staircase.

I’ll help you up. Harry said.

I’m grateful.

The man supported the side of his ribs as he ascended.

The stairs were bare and unpainted. The heavy embossed wallpaper was ragged and worn away where generations of grubby hands had sought additional support on the opposite wall to the banister. Once at the top another key was used to open the apartment door.

Please let me offer you a drink for your troubles?

No it’s OK, but thanks. Let’s just get you safely inside then I’ll be on my way.

I insist. You intervened and helped me, it’s the least I can do. Please let me get you a drink?

Harry thought for a moment, he had nothing else pressing his time, so he followed the man in.

OK, if you’re sure, thanks, but just for a few minutes then.

The stranger closed the door and pulled the blackout curtains before putting on the lights.

Hey that’s impressive - Harry said noticing that with one switch all the table and wall lamps came on in the room;

- just like in Hollywood films!

The man smiled and turned to Harry,

I had to get the place rewired a few years ago so I thought I would indulge myself. There’s even a dimmer control!

He tried to laugh but immediately stopped as the pain in his ribs returned.

You need to sit down.

I’ll be OK, it’s easing again now.

A few seconds later he recovered sufficiently to kick his wet shoes off,

Sorry, I’ve not introduced myself. My name’s Andrew Kirkland, and your’s is?

Harry Davies.

They shook hands. Harry noticed he wasn’t limping anymore.

Please take your coat off and sit down Harry.

Harry removed his light-coloured trench coat or mac as he preferred to call it and sat down. He looked around the room and was astonished to see new furnishings, carpets and light fittings. The place was opulent, warm and welcoming.

Andrew took his threadbare coat and cap off to reveal a smart pair of grey trousers, clean white shirt and blue pullover. He was just less than six foot tall, Harry thought; clean-shaven with neat, dark brown hair and aged about forty, he guessed.

I don’t understand.

Harry said feeling slightly uneasy.

Andrew grinned,

First appearances, never trust first appearances old man. I’ll get us some drinks.

The accent was English now, not local as Harry had heard earlier.

How are your injuries?

It’s nothing too serious, said Andrew,

just my shoulder and ribs feel a bit bruised. I fell onto the kerb when they knocked me over.

As he explained this he brushed vigorously at a mark he had noticed on his trousers.

Did you recognise them?

’Fraid not, it was too dark.

Has that sort of thing happened before to you?

Once it did, but that was just after I moved here.

Andrew moved slowly across to a drinks cabinet and returned with two large whiskies, handing one to Harry. The other he placed on a side table before carefully tugging at his trouser creases prior to sitting.

‘Fastidious bastard?’

Harry thought to himself.

Andrew continued,

As I said, my name is Andrew Kirkland, although it sounds Scottish I was actually brought up in Northumberland. Now what about you?

He had by now gingerly lowered himself into the chair, anticipating the pain returning, which it didn’t.

I’m Harry Davies and Glasgow City is my latest known abode.

There was a slight pause as Harry sipped his drink and thought through the best way of asking his next question,

Tell me something, if you don’t mind, why are you using a pawn shop when you’ve obviously got all this – er – wealth around you?

But it’s not obvious to the locals, Harry. Only you know that now, they don’t.

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he looked across at Andrew trying to understand more.

Are you with the Police or something?

Harry ventured, still unsure of the situation he’d found himself in.

Good Lord, no! Look I’m really grateful for your help; it could have become quite difficult for me down in the street just now. I’ve invited you up just to say thanks. I appreciate what you did and if there is anything I can do to assist your situation then I’ll try and help. I didn’t see what you pawned but I guess if you’re a frequent customer then you may be looking for some work perhaps?

Harry sat back and smiled.

"No, you didn’t see what I pawned; in fact I redeemed a ring which belongs to my sister-in-law. So you see, I’m not so desperate for cash."

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…

First impressions Andrew, you were taken in by first impressions.

He smiled again.

Touché Andrew said before grinning broadly.

The two men ignored a distant air raid siren that began moaning.

Would you like a cigarette?

Harry was offered a silver box full with quality cigarettes,

I don’t smoke myself but you’re most welcome.

No, thank you.

Harry took a long draft of whisky and then began patting his pockets.

What the hell have I done with it?

He reached across and checked his coat.

What?

The ring I redeemed earlier. I can’t find it.

Oh Lord! I’ll feel somehow responsible if you’ve lost it helping me. Could you have dropped it in the scuffle outside?

Oh bollocks, I hope not, I’ll go down to look.

Best wait now Harry, until the raid is over that is, you can’t go out searching with a torch at the moment. Here have another drink first.

Harry was content to remain, he knew there was no point in going out until the ‘all clear’ had sounded.

I’ll come down and search with you later. What sort of ring was it?

Harry paused before replying,

It was a ring that belonged to my sister-in-law. A large ruby set in gold. I had the cash to redeem it and was planning to return it to her…and I will if I can find it again!

He sipped more from his glass, not wishing to divulge any more information,

Tell me Andrew, what do you do for a living besides pawning old clocks?

Well that’s a long story, suffice to say that I was involved in the construction business with my Father, hotel renovations, spas etcetera, and I also dabbled in the antiques trade in London and the north of England. After he died I decided to move to Scotland to expand the business. This was just before the war started.

Why Scotland?

Dad’s business covered both sides of the border regions and I used to travel up on a regular basis. When he died I decided to settle here, as I preferred the area. I thought there was more opportunity in Scotland for my antiques business to thrive than in Northumberland. But, with all the confusion at the beginning of the war, the market for antiques evaporated to start with, so I decided to try something different involving property.

Property?

Yes, property. The thing is you can buy houses and flats now, especially in the cities, for next to nothing. The owners are often desperate to sell and move out to the countryside where they find it’s safer. So I try and assist them.

So you buy houses and hold them or rent them out?

I rent them, there’s a good market for cheap short term rental accommodation. When the war ends and values increase again I’ll sell some and enjoy the benefits.

I see.

Harry examined the room again;

Well, you appear to be doing alright now by the look of things?

Yes, it’s…satisfactory I suppose.

If this is ‘satisfactory’ I wonder what adequate would be like?

Andrew smiled as Harry continued,

But why live here, this is one of the most run down areas of the city?

I didn’t intend to stay here, but having decorated the place up over several years and with the war on, I just decided to settle for the time being.

But why the subterfuge?

You mean the pawn shop appearance?

Yes.

Look Harry, there’s a lot more you don’t know about me, and obviously I don’t know you well enough at the moment to tell you. But, as I said earlier if you are looking for some work I may be able to assist you.

Harry decided not to pursue the subject any further. The sounds of distant bomb explosions and anti-aircraft fire could still be heard.

They sound a long way off - , Harry said,

- probably over Greenock again?

Should they come any nearer then there’s an Anderson shelter we can use in the back garden. Andrew listened again. Although I think we’re OK for the moment. He continued.

So what about you then, how long have you lived here and what do you do?

Harry stretched his legs and made himself more comfortable in the chair,

I’ve been in Scotland about five months now.

He paused trying to consider how much he should reveal of his past life.

You’re not in the Services then?

No, I’m in a reserved occupation. But I was injured in a bomb blast and was given some time off to recuperate.

Harry appeared a little uneasy with this obvious lie which was made worse by his following explanation.

My plan is to return in a few months time.

Look I don’t want to pry, I’m sorry.

Andrew then changed the subject,

Here let’s top you up again. He reached across.

That sounds good to me. Thank you.

Harry swallowed the last dregs and offered the glass up. He felt more relaxed now.

They sat in silence for a few minutes listening as the enemy action rumbled on.

Andrew then turned towards Harry, This raid seems to be developing into one of their longer ones. Look, if you want to bed down for the night, there’s a couch in the small box room you can use. When it’s over we can go out and search for that ring of yours?

Harry thought about the offer. If he left now he would have to find a crowded public shelter, so he was content to remain until the raid was over, and, after all, he was enjoying the whisky.

If that’s OK I’d like to stay, and then I’ll get moving as soon as the all clear sounds.

Andrew left the room and came back with some pillows and blankets.

The box room is through there, next to the bathroom.

He picked up the whisky bottle to examine it and then poured more into the two glasses,

Might as well finish this one off.

Then he produced another bottle from the drink’s cabinet.

I’ll get some food. Bread, cheese and pickles, is that o.k. for you?

Excellent, thanks. I must admit to feeling a bit hungry now.

Help yourself to more drink if you want.

Andrew left the room and prepared the food. Harry poured another whisky and scanned a local newspaper without really absorbing anything he read.

Andrew returned with one plate.

You not eating?

No, too much excitement for one evening, I might try some later but you carry on.

After the food was consumed they continued talking for about an hour on subjects ranging from the lack of British pre-war rearmament, the raid that was still continuing in the distance and the latest film releases. After a long pause Andrew yawned loudly,

I’m sorry Harry but it’s time for my bed I think; it’s been an eventful day. You’ll find towels in the press cupboard in the bathroom. Would you switch the lights off as you go through? - Give me a shout if I’m not awake when you’re ready to go and I’ll help you look for that ring of yours. I’ll see you later.

Yes, OK, and thanks again Andrew.

Harry felt utterly at ease as he scanned the room again. This is the kind of place I’d like one day, he thought. There were two settees, one facing the fire and the other at ninety degrees to it. A walnut dining table and six chairs were positioned by one of the windows, together with a matching drinks cabinet and radiogram. An old, highly polished partners’ desk was arranged at an angle by the second window together with various cupboards and side tables with ornate lamps stationed around the walls. The whole effect was completed by a display of mirrors, book cases, pictures and heavy curtaining.

One day Harry boy, one day you’ll have a place like this,

he thought. He poured another drink and decided to find the box room. As he left he turned all of the room lights out as instructed. He paused and switched them on and off again and smiled.

Bloody marvellous! He whispered to himself.

Harry went to his room and peered through the curtains. It was now raining heavily and far away he could still see flashes lighting the horizon as bombs and incendiaries continued falling. The white fingers of three, sometimes four, searchlights arched across the distant dark, cloudy sky. After taking off his shirt and trousers he made a comfy nest with the blankets and pillows and downed the last of his drink and settled into a deep spirit induced sleep.

He didn’t hear the ‘All Clear’ sounding but later in the night he awoke and lay there drifting slowly back into consciousness. He became aware of something, a soft noise in the room. Breathing perhaps, or was it the rain and the wind rattling on the windows? He didn’t move, his mind became more focused as he remembered the events of the evening before and where he was. He turned over abruptly to see a shadow of something - now someone - in front of him.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

He shouted in the darkness.

I’m sorry Harry, it’s me Andrew. I didn’t mean to frighten you.

Harry turned the table lamp on to see Andrew, naked except for a blanket wrapped around him, sitting on a chair directly in front of him. Andrew tried to shield the light from his eyes,

I’m sorry - he said rather pathetically,

- I seem to have been caught out.

Harry sat up,

What are you doing here like this?

Andrew began his apologies again, but Harry interrupted him.

I get it now. Jesus what a fool I’ve been. I know your story, all these kind invitations to help me out, the drinks, and the food. You’re nothing but a…

He stopped, a long pause followed.

Say it Harry, go on say it!

Harry couldn’t speak, he was angry at the situation he had allowed himself to be drawn into.

I should never have stayed.

No, that’s not true and you know it, I didn’t entice you at all. It was just the circumstances of the evening brought you here. Besides nothing has happened.

Nothing has happened! - listen mate I don’t usually give myself up to be viewed at close quarters by some…

Say it Harry, say it, go on, ‘some nance, some ponce, whatever!

Harry couldn’t make eye contact with Andrew; now he felt embarrassed. Perhaps he had overreacted somewhat?

Andrew continued, speaking quietly,

I’ll admit to you …yes…I am - but it never entered my head to try anything with you I promise. I woke up and came in to see if you had gone or whether you wanted to look for the ring you lost. It’s just getting light now. The all clear has sounded.

Go on.

I came into the room but felt dizzy, the drink, the fight or something. I didn’t eat properly yesterday so I sat down here. I thought you would have heard me come in. I’ve not been here for long. Again, I’m sorry if you’ve taken offence.

Harry’s face showed that he was angry but he said nothing. Andrew continued,

It’s probably best you go now, my life is complicated enough without all this. I really did just come in to help you, that’s all. Andrew stood up and left the room.

Harry quickly dressed and checked his pockets again. He picked up his coat and went to the apartment door. Andrew was waiting there in his dressing gown, he opened the door for Harry.

Look.

He said,

If you can detach yourself from what occurred just now my offer of a possible job could be yours, here’s my phone number.

We’ll see.

Harry stuffed the card in his pocket and walked quickly down the stairs and out into the street.

Andrew called after him,

What about the ring can I help you search for it?

Harry didn’t hear him.

The heavy rain had stopped; Harry lit a cigarette and retraced his steps to where the attack on Andrew had occurred. A few of the small shops had opened and the owners were busy carrying produce outside to display. Only a handful of people were walking by and all were wrapped up against the icy wind now gusting from the east. He searched for some time without finding the ring, as Andrew watched