Salvors: Uncut and Unfinished

By Barry Jyam

SALVORS UNCUT AND UNFINISHED.

The story covers three time frames, 1942 the middle of the Second World War, the ensuing years, and finally the present day.

It tells of how the lives of several men, their families and friends are linked in a deadly mystery involving the loss of life, a large quantity of uncut diamonds and gold bullion, and how they become drawn into another far greater loss.

In 1942 a British unarmed Liberator aircraft leaves the Belgian Congo carrying not only uncut diamonds and gold but five high ranking United States Army officers on a secret visit to Britain. They had joined the aircraft in Egypt but towards the end of its journey the aircraft is shot down by two spitfires who mistake it for an enemy plane, all on board are lost, no efforts were made to recover the aircraft or its contents, the relatives of those on board were informed their loved ones were lost in action, this is based on a true event.

After the loss is known a senior member of the Ministry of Mines in the Congo, removes all records of the transaction from the files. A family member of one of the US officers promises the widow that one day he would make sure her husbands remains will be returned to the USA for burial. He dies before he can achieve this so his son undertakes to carry out the task, as his chosen profession is that of Marine Engineer he feels qualified to achieve this.

It is not until many years later he can obtain any information about his Grandfathers death, there is a limit to what the records show in the US archives, so he plans a trip to England to meet an old friend from Cambridge to gather more details.

The attempts to find and salvage the remains of the aircraft and its contents is one of immense hardship, fighting the physical elements above the water, and the never ending struggle to get the sea to give up its secrets, the lives of those involved will never be the same again.

Barry Jyam.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481769921

Barry Jyam

BARRY JYAM Barry was born in Essex, one of four boys, he now lives in the south of England, he is 73 years old, father of four children, has six grand-children and four great grand-children. He had a very basic education, leaving school for a job found by his father when he was 15yrs old, every one in the family had to be earning as soon as possible. His Father and Mother were both born in the east end of London and moved to Essex during the second World War after losing two houses due to the bombing. He has always been an avid reader, enjoying a wide range of authors and subjects. A friend persuaded him to write down some of the things he had been involved in, these are the basis of all the Salvors Series of books. He formed his own scrap metal company and progressed with this company into Demolition, again with the purpose of acquiring the metal that arose from such activities. After five years he was able to lease a loading pier in Essex, and started exporting scrap metal to Europe. He then formed another company with friends in the shipping world to purchase their own coasters whose size was limited only by the depth of water at the quay. When metal was shipped out building materials were purchased to bring back to UK much needed building materials including bricks, wood, sand, ballast, and scaffolding. As a private wharf he was put under pressure during the Dock strikes and Steel workers strike to cease working, but as he was only handling his own and other contracted work he never closed his gates and eventually was left alone to continue work in his own field. He also purchased scrap minesweepers, lifeboats, barges, ferry's, and other vessels purely to bring even more work to the quay. During this time he was offered and took the opportunity to clear wrecks and cargoes from many different locations, mainly work that the large Salvage companies were not interested in, this took him to many destinations around the world. He employed anybody who would give a good days work for a good days money, many of these men were not very well educated, so at the end of a days work he would read stories and help them improve their spelling and writing skills, he also took to writing short stories for his children, and grandchildren just to fill in any spare time. A friend introduced him to a colleague who was looking for television scripts, and the salvage stories were well received but the money was not available for what they considered would be an expensive series to make, he joins fact with fiction to make interesting, and exciting, reading. The first, “Uncut and Unfinished” is now on Amazon Kindle, the next book that will shortly be available is “Close the Door”, this will be closely followed by “The Silver Arab”. I have enjoyed remembering many of the incidents, and of course the characters I have met, and a lifetime of events end up as a few stories that will hopefully bring to the reader an insight into the very interesting series of events during my working lifetime.

Book preview

Chapter 1

It was November 1952, the night air was damp, the smell of rubbish and human waste hung heavily over the town of Tshikapa in the Belgian Congo, there was the odd light coming from the shanty bars down the side streets, and the sound of drunken singing interspersed with the odd scream, and animal yelp, otherwise there was nothing to worry the three men that had cautiously left the Societe Internationale Forestiere et Miniere du Congo. The first two men were large and towered over the third man who was in the process of locking the entrance to the office, they did not talk but used hand signals to indicate that the road was clear, the doors were locked then the smaller man who was stocky and very young, positioned himself between the other two as they moved off down the street. The young man walked with a noticeable stoop but took short positive steps, the others stood tall and constantly looked around as though expecting trouble, despite their vigilance they were caught totally unawares by what hit them as they passed an old farmers cart loaded with straw and pig food. As they passed, five men appeared out of the rubbish on the truck, the man closest to the truck could do nothing, he did not even scream as the machete sliced down though his ear, past his chin and through his neck, he was dead before he hit the ground, blood pumping from his severed carotid artery, his head lay at right angles to his body as he hit the path. The small man in the middle was lucky, as a machete wielded by another one of the attackers came into contact with the back of his head, his assailants arm hit the shoulder of the other bodyguard and prevented it from splitting his head totally open, nonetheless the blow knocked him unconscious, and he fell into the blood soaked mud and stones of the path, this saved him further injury. The guard who had inadvertently saved his employer, staggered forward as the blow hit his shoulder, this also delayed his death, as two other machetes both missed their mark, he turned pulling an old service pistol from his waistband, he raised it to fire, but his arm was severed just above the wrist with one violent blow, his scream died on his lips as he was stabbed in the stomach and chest, as he fell to his knees, his head split into several pieces as blows rained down on him. The attackers never said a word, three stood guard as the other two turned the little man over and went through his pockets, they removed four leather bags from the inside of his clothing, took his wallet and keys, and moved quickly away. They ran down the back streets until they came to a junction in the road, there was a car waiting, the window was wound down, a hand came out, the leather bags and keys were passed in, after a minute or so a brown envelope was given back and the car drove swiftly away, the whole thing had taken less than five minutes. The bodies of the two men were found in the morning, the young man was still alive and moaning loudly, he was taken to hospital where he stayed for over a month. The papers reported that a senior member of the Ministry of mines had been a victim of a robbery, his two colleagues killed, the office ransacked, and a quantity of cut, and uncut diamonds stolen, the office doors were found wide open.

Chapter 2

About ten years earlier, two men, one a representative of Lloyds of London insurers, the other an American, had been killed in the same area, they were on their way back from supervising the loading of a valuable cargo on to a British aircraft, nothing of high value was stolen from them, except a briefcase from the Lloyds man, which only had documents appertaining to his work inside, and the wallet, jewellery, and some personal effects of the other, this too was reported as the work of desperate men. There were few safe areas in a country that had so many poor and starving people.

Two weeks before he was due to be released from hospital, the young man had a surprise visitor he came unannounced, cleared the nurse from the room then sat on the edge of the bed. He leant forward, and said in a very low, soft voice, you are now my man for life Mante Comte, I know that it was you that robbed the safe at the Ministry offices, but I have made sure no investigation will be made against you, I arranged for the offices to be unlocked, to make it look like the place had been ransacked, your job is safe, you are paid by the government, but you now work for me, do as you are told and you can go on living, let me down, and your very inadequate manhood will be removed and threaded down your throat. The man stood up, patted the patient on the cheek, smiled and left the room, the young man in the bed had all but pissed himself, the man who had threatened him, was one of the most powerful Ministers in his country, he knew the threat was real, he could not stop shaking with fear. In the years that followed Mante became a high-ranking officer in the Ministry of Mines, not through his own endeavours, but because his benefactor made sure of it, the cost to the country was enormous, millions of pounds worth of precious stones were stolen and sold by his benefactor to buy arms to support uprisings in his and other African countries, the fight to regain the continent for their own races had begun. The young man used his position to establish his own small power base via the use of the information available to him this was with a view to the future when age and death would remove the threat to his own life once and for all.

The 60’s, 70’s, were hard years for him in particular, he learnt not only how to survive, but to give his family the best of everything, his only disappointment was he had six daughters and only one son Birche, a clone of his father, but twice as evil. The early ninety’s bought the release Mante had been waiting for, the time to achieve his final goal, the man he had obeyed for many years had died, he was now his own master. He had one more important target in life, which he was sure he could complete, but it was not in his own country, it was in Europe, he also needed to taste some white meat, and he did not mean chicken. His son Birche would travel with him, it was time for him to leave the Congo, as the deaths of several young girls in the most violent circumstances, had been placed firmly at his door and not even a powerful figure like Mante could solve all his problems.

Before he left, Mante Conte used his position to make sure he was appointed Ambassador for his country, based in London for a minimum term of five years, by the time his placement expired, his life would be complete. For his part, Birche could not wait to see London and experience the night life, and try his luck with the many white girls who would be sure to clamour around him.

Chapter 3

The Pan Am 747 glided down towards the runway on its approach to Heathrow, after a few minutes the sound of the flaps adjusting and the wheels coming down invaded the relative quiet of the aircraft, the no smoking, fasten seat belts signs glowed in the dimmed light, one of the stewards was checking that the rules were being observed on his way back to his seat at the rear of the cabin. Jeff Wiseman, one of the passengers in Business class, sunk further into his seat, thoughts of his wife Cindy and their four year old daughter Kay ran through his mind and he wondered not for the first time, if he was being stupid in making the trip, leaving what was a very comfortable living to pursue what Cindy called his whim. He was 34 years old, six foot and twelve and a half stone of highly qualified Marine Engineer, personally he did not have to make this trip, but a promise was a promise, especially when made to your parents. The plane hit a small air-pocket and lurched sideways, he wondered what the flight was like for his Grandfather 53 years earlier in the old converted British Liberator Aircraft carrying him, four other high ranking officers and five crew on a cold February night across war torn Europe. The sound of the four prop engines would have echoed through the fuselage as the cold air bit into their bodies despite the heavy coats they wore, the route they had taken was fraught with danger, but during the last few miles approaching Hurn on the flight from Egypt, they would have been able to relax a little, the risk of meeting enemy aircraft all but diminished as they neared their destination. Their thoughts would have been turning to a hot meal and a comfortable bed, when despite displaying lettering in large white paint on the top and undersides of the aircraft, and along the fuselage, plus red, white and blue stripes underneath the lettering, they were attacked and shot down by two spitfires, whose pilots thought the recognition flashes they saw as they sighted the Liberator were enemy gunfire.

Having read all the information available, Jeff knew there were several contributing factors to the incident, the small margin of endurance of the Liberator operating from the Belgian Congo, Egypt to Prestwick, (with Hurn as an alternative), the weather, including headwinds, required route alterations, the late departure of the aircraft and revised timing. The responsibility was divided between BOAC and the RAF. The limitations in communications equipment and procedures in those days also did not help, but how do you mistake an Aldis lamp signal from the astro hatch of the Liberator as opening fire? Jeff was told that this incident was responsible for changing the procedure of identification to two star cartridges being fired. This was too late for his Grandfather and the others, they ended up in the cold dark water of the English Channel, somewhere between Falmouth and Plymouth Sound, the Royal Navy sent a Motor Launch to the site and recovered two bags of mail, and some clothing, they also saw the wings of the aircraft although these were not recovered and sadly there were no survivors.

Jeff had researched the history, first of all for his father, then when he past away seven years ago, to satisfy his own curiosity, he had promised his father that one day he would try to bring Grandfather’s remains back for burial in his local churchyard.

There were too many questions left unanswered, his Grandfather was a high ranking US General, involved in preparing a dossier for the Senate on the war in Europe, to enable the United States to evaluate the various ways the Allies could be helped, and what involvement his particular department might have, why were they told he was just a tragic statistic of the war, and no visible efforts made to explain how and why the incident occurred.

The 747 touched down at Heathrow, the reverse thrust and braking noise reverberated through the aircraft, I wonder what the sound of cannon shells smashing through the fuselage made in that old Liberator, he shuddered at the thought, and despite the directive to stay in your seat until the aircraft has finished moving, he stood up, collected his flight bag and coat from the overhead locker ready to make a quick exit. He knew he would need his coat, even though it was early spring in UK, the weather in Pheonix was always warm, but then he knew that anywhere was warm compared to England. It took five long minutes for the aircraft to reach the terminal then he had to wait for the doors to be opened and manned by an Air hostess, she was plastered with make up, and well past her sell-by date, he smiled as she wished him a pleasant visit. On the way to the Customs and baggage collection point, he saw passengers being literally barged out of the way by a squat, powerful Negro, accompanied by a taller younger man, despite there being enough room for twelve people to pass, no apologies were given. Jeff noticed the man had a very deep scar across his partially bald head, probably put there by someone else who he had bashed into, nothing was said, they were all tired, Jeff just wanted to meet his lift and get a good nights rest, the next few weeks promised to be very busy.

After a long wait to claim his luggage, he past through Customs without any trouble, when he walked out of the restricted area he saw his good friend Dennis Whycome waiting with a big smile on his face at the exit point, they were room-mates at Cambridge, both qualified Marine Engineers, although after working for the UK Government for seven years, Dennis had inherited a vast sum of money and was now a newly elected Member of Parliament. They wrapped their arms around each other and slapped each others backs, great to see you old boy, said Dennis, let my man Jackson take your luggage, and lets get you back to the apartment, we are staying in London, our place is in Kensington, about thirty minutes from here, we can talk on the way, I trust the family is well, everyone is great, Cindy sends her love and of course I have an extensive shopping list that I will need your help in completing, Jeff replied. The driver took the luggage trolley, and led the way out of the terminal to the short-term parking lot, after he had opened the car doors for them he loaded the luggage in the boot and went to pay the parking fee. Five minutes later, they were on their way on the exit road from the airport, none of them noticed a black Audi A8 swiftly move out two cars behind them, keeping a discreet distance behind, indeed why should they, it was just a meeting between two friends. The journey to Kensington was fast and uneventful, there was a slight drizzle falling, but they did not notice it, they took the time to bring each other up to date with the events in their lives during the last few months, Jackson pulled the car up outside a row of three storey town houses, as there were so many cars parked in the road, he had to double park, this meant they had to get out of the car into the road rather than the pavement. The door was being held open by Jackson, Dennis got out, and walked round to the steps leading up to the front door, Jeff started to get out but realised he had left his coat on the parcel-shelf, so he had to get right in to reach it, as he did so, the air echoed with the roar of a powerful engine, a car streaked down the narrow street hit the open car door ripping it off, taking poor Jackson with it. He and the door were hurled high into the air, both landing with a sickening thud some thirty feet away, Jackson hit the road head first, and did not move, Dennis’s car was pushed into the car it was parked alongside, forcing it onto the pavement, Jeff was thrown into the well of the back seat, banging his head and shoulder in the process. The car that hit them did not stop, it careered off down the road, engine racing, and not displaying any lights Jeff shook his head and struggled out of the now wrecked car, shaking with the shock of the collision. He saw Dennis running towards the crumpled body of Jackson, and he staggered over to see if he could help, they turned Jackson onto his back, his body was bleeding badly, and his limbs were obviously broken, the biggest shock was that there was nothing where his head should have been, it had been smashed to pulp, Dennis was physically sick. Lights were going on up, and down the street and people were coming out to investigate the noise, a Doctor lived three doors away from Dennis, he dashed out to examine Jackson but obviously could do nothing, they covered Jackson’s body with a sheet, the Doctor suggested Dennis and Jeff went inside and had a hot drink, he and the neighbours would call the emergency services. The road was quickly closed off when the Police arrived, they were closely followed by the Ambulance Service, the Doctor pronounced Jackson dead at the scene, photographs were taken, and Jackson’s body removed, when the Ambulance had left, two police officers knocked on Dennis’s door and were shown into the morning room. Jeff and Dennis were in shock, and had hardly taken a sip of their tea, which had been prepared by the house-keeper Janet. The officer in charge introduced himself as Detective Inspector Childs, he started to take their initial statements at the same time expressing his condolences for the tragic loss of the driver, it looks like a basic hit and run case, the fact that you were double parked probably did not help, although the road is well lit, so you should have been seen by the other driver, he did not have his lights on, said Dennis, the driver was black, and so was his companion, I saw them clearly, he was probably drunk, and had forgot to put them on, said the Inspector, there is a lot of broken glass and damage, so the other vehicle will need a lot of work on it, we will check and advise all garages, we should be lucky, the car was a black Audi, a big one said Dennis speaking into his tea. The inspector was surprised, you noticed a lot sir, he said quietly, when I heard the roar of his engine I was on the steps, I was therefore able to turn round and get a good view of the incident, the inspector thanked them, and said, I would like you both to come to the station in the morning to make formal statements, in the meantime we will arrange for the removal of your car to our yard, as it is evidence in a very serious incident, I suggest you remove any personal belongings now, try and get some rest, unfortunately the same cannot apply to Mr. Jackson. Taking a long sip from his tea, Dennis said, he has no relatives, I will take care of everything, thank you for your help, we will see you in the morning, he then called Janet, and asked her to get Jeff’s luggage from the car, and place it in the top floor guest suite.

A policeman helped Janet with the luggage, Dennis and Jeff finished their tea, then followed it with a very stiff brandy, they did not talk, Jeff had a sip of his drink, then said, I’ll say goodnight, see you in the morning, I am very sorry about Jackson, he seemed a very nice guy, ok old boy, hope you manage to sleep alright, I am not sure I could ever sleep again after tonight, replied Dennis. Jeff was shown to his room by Janet, it was luxurious in every way, it even had it’s own en-suite with a Jacuzzi bath, he slipped out of his clothes whilst the water was running then climbed into the water clasping his brandy, he decided not to ring Cindy, even though she would have been up, Pheonix being eight hours behind UK, she had not wanted him to come on the trip in the first place, a start like this would worry her beyond belief.

Chapter 4

Whilst Jeff was having his bath, Mante the black man who had been driving the car, was busy trying to abandon it in a back street, he had made a call on the mobile phone he found in the car, as it would have been risky trying to drive the Audi far in the condition it was in, they needed transport quickly, Mante also needed some treatment for the cut on the side of his head, caused during the collision, what’s another scar on your head when you have already survived an axe attack, Birche was laughing hysterically what a great way to enter London. Mante pulled the Audi into a quiet mews off the main road, and cut the engine, he placed his case out onto the pavement whilst Birche recovered their luggage from the car, then Mante took a can of lighter fuel from his pocket, sprayed it all over the interior of the car, then taking a book of matches from his inside pocket, he struck one, set light to the others and threw them into the car, leaving the door open so the breeze could feed the flames that immediately leapt into the cool, damp night air. By the time they had reached the main road, the car was well alight, both excited by the evenings events they could not wait to get back to the Jamaica Road flat owned by the woman who was collecting them, they walked quickly down the road towards South Kensington tube station, it took about twenty minutes but as they approached it, an old blue Astra pulled alongside them, they threw their luggage in the boot and jumped in, the car pulled away without a word being said. When they arrived at the flat which was in a high rise building surrounded by three other identical towers, Mante told Birche to go to the bedroom on the left down the hallway, he then pushed the woman who had collected them into the kitchen, Mante threw his case down, and grabbed the woman viciously by the arms, spun her round, then pushed her face down over the small kitchen table, he opened his trousers, lifted her skirt and tore her underwear away then took her violently from behind, the first sound since they had met passed her lips, it was a scream of pain not pleasure. The black man did not take any notice, he shuddered into her, gasped, staggered away leaving her sobbing, get us some food and the first aid kit, then carry on crying he spat in her direction. The woman eased herself gently upright took a piece of kitchen roll, placed it between her legs, and straightened her clothing, she wiped her eyes on another piece of the roll, went to the kitchen cupboard by the sink and removed an old tin containing an assortment of plasters etc., this she took into the lounge and placed in front of her abuser, turned and went back to the kitchen. Mante stood in front of the old mirror over the imitation fireplace, and touched the side of his head, there was a considerable swelling, but the cut had now stopped bleeding because the blood had congealed over it, he covered it with a cream from the first aid kit, and stuck a large plaster straight on top, he did not care that the cut had not been cleaned or that the plaster stuck on top of what hair he had on the side of his head, that will do for you Mante Comte he uttered loudly. There was a noise of pans and other activity in the kitchen, followed by the smell of bacon, about five minutes later, the woman bought in two plates of eggs, bacon, beans and tomatoes, with four slices of bread and butter, and plonked it in front of Mante, he yelled for Birche to come and eat, then turned to the woman and shouted, where is my fucking cup of tea, on the kitchen table, where you just fucked me, replied the woman, listen here Adie Comte, since your husband, my brother died, I have kept you, and if I want to fuck you or do anything else to you, I will, now get the tea in here and run a bath for me, then you get in it after me, I have been away too long and need even more of your loving care, as he said it, he punched her on the upper arm and laughed loudly. Adie went back to the kitchen, holding her arm and wincing with the pain, not allowing the tears to flow until she was out of his sight, Birche loved the violence, he had gone hard just watching his father abuse the woman, he was even tempted to give her the pleasure of his body also. Adie went through the kitchen into the small hallway then into the bathroom, she started running the bath, her hatred for her brother-in-law knew no bounds, her time would come, until then she would have to compensate with a little light entertainment, going into the kitchen she took a bottle of bleach and an old container of dog shampoo, which was at least four years old, and made her way back to the bathroom she emptied both of them into the water. That should make sure you are black, and of course bring your coat up nice and shiny, smiling for once she dumped the containers in the rubbish, waited until the bath was half-full, then turned the taps off, making sure she never put her hands in to test the water of course.

Chapter 5

Jeff woke up with a start from a very fitful sleep, he looked at the clock for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night, it was just past six o’clock, he could hear other people moving around the house, even though the birds had hardly risen. He stretched his arms to full height, got out of bed and put his dressing gown on, his shoulder and head ached, and his eyes looked like piss-holes in the snow, what the hell am I doing here he thought, I could be home in the nice warm sun, with my family, instead I am thousands of miles away seeking a dream that has already been shattered by the death of an innocent man, if I had not come, he would still be alive, he opened the door and started down stairs. Janet greeted him with a sad hello, and told him that Mr. Dennis is in the morning room, breakfast will be with you in about five minutes, will you settle for a full English, or do you require anything special, full English sounds great thank you Janet, I need something to bring me back to reality, he walked through to the morning room where Dennis greeted him with a firm handshake and a brisk good morning. He seated himself at the table opposite Dennis, and waited as Dennis filled a cup with rich black coffee, hope you still drink it the same way old boy, that’s fine thank you, God, what a night, I am so sorry I hope I didn’t bring this upon you Dennis, not your fault old boy, the best thing to do is get on with what you planned, hopefully you can achieve what you set out to do. The breakfast was in various dishes, Jeff and Dennis served themselves and ate in silence, Jeff had a second cup of coffee, Dennis pointed out that they had to go to the local Police Station to make their statements, then he was available for the rest of the day, I suggest we hire a taxi for the day, then I will get you a driver and car to take you wherever you wish, I can spend quite a bit of time with you around London, but will find it difficult to accompany you down to the South West. Jeff finished his coffee, I appreciate your help, but don’t worry about me, I am quite capable of finding my way around, I need to start at Greenwich, the archives there should set me on the way, right, see you down here at 8.00 am old boy, and don’t worry about poor Jackson, I will make sure he not only rests in peace, but will stop at nothing to find the bastard that killed him," they both went to prepare for what was going to be a very busy day.

Chapter 6

Over at the Jamaica Road flat, things were going from bad to worse for Adie, when she had eventually got into bed, Mante was still awake, despite her wasting as much time as possible clearing up after the two men, plus he showed no reaction from what she had put in the bath. As soon as she was in bed he forced her head between his legs, she could smell the bleach, then taste it as he made her give him a blow job, she did not know the real term to describe it, perhaps suck job would suit better, he held her head on his cock until she had swallowed the last drop of come, she was gagging, as he forced every last inch of himself into her mouth, she was relieved when his cock went soft. He said nothing, he just turned over onto his side and was snoring within three minutes she eventually fell asleep also. Adie was woken by Mante turning her over on her side, so her bottom was touching his once again erect prick, he forced her top leg upwards, by jamming his leg and arm between her legs, she felt his cock at the entrance to her arse, and held her breath as he forced it into her, this was Mante doing what he liked best, she bit her lip and tasted blood, as he rammed into her he bit her shoulder, Adie forced herself not to scream, he did not care about anything except his own gratification. When his limp cock slipped out of her he said, at least you are now getting a real cock inside you, not my brother’s scrawny thing, Adie replied, at least when your brother put it up my arse I could feel it, he was a real man, a remark which earned her a vicious punch into the kidneys. Adie rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom to clean herself up, the old shower washed the smell of Mante away, she wiped herself dry, and returned to the bedroom to dress, Mante was snoring like a stuck pig, how easy it would be to cut his throat, but he wasn’t worth the long sentence.

The taxi Dennis had called, arrived at ten to eight, they jumped in and asked to be taken to Kensington Police Station, upon arrival Dennis asked him to wait, we will need you all day, so book out with your office, we have a lot to do.

The Police took their statements in separate offices at the same time, then they took them into the Inspectors office and sat them down, we have found the car that was involved in the incident, it was about a mile away, the Fire Brigade were called to put it out, unfortunately because of the fire we do not expect to get much evidence from the remains, it had been stolen from the car park at Heathrow, thanks to the owner leaving his parking ticket on the front dashboard. We believe it was a drunk who just wanted to get home, the Inspector remarked, strange that he stole it from Heathrow, and happened to end up killing Jackson, that appears more than a coincidence to me, said Jeff, perhaps Jackson cut him up at Heathrow or elsewhere, so he followed him in a drunken rage, the Inspector retorted, I don’t accept that theory, and I cannot believe you do either, Jeff snapped back. The inspector’s face went a bright red, and he said through pursed lips, I suggest you leave the Police work to us, enjoy your stay, if we have any progress we will inform you, thank you gentlemen, goodbye, As they left the station Jeff asked Dennis if he thought that the circumstances were strange, yes old boy, of course I do, but I cannot think of any other reason at this moment in time, why someone should want to kill Jackson, perhaps they didn’t want to kill him, say one of us was the target, replied Jeff. Dennis laughed and said, look if it was you, no doubt the Mafia or some other party in the USA would have done it before you arrived, if it was me, it must be the local vicar, because he is the only one I can think of, reason being, non attendance at church, Jeff did not reply, but had a bad feeling about the whole affair. They reached the taxi, and instructed him to go to Greenwich Maritime museum, the journey took a long time in the rush hour traffic, and Jeff was very thoughtful throughout the trip, at Greenwich they suggested the taxi driver went for some refreshment, and came back two hours later.

Chapter 7

The day had at last started for Mante Comte, he got up at ten thirty, had a cold shower because Adie had turned the immersion heater off, he had the mother and father of a headache, all of which he blamed on Adie, she made sure she overcooked his breakfast, and that his tea was just warm, she then gave him two HRT pills, and told him they would make his head better, maybe they would, but they did not improve his mood. After eating he stayed at the table and told Adie to bring him his briefcase then piss off out of his way, get me all today’s papers, and make sure I have lunch at one and no later, he shouted, he then got two files from his case. The first file had a large black and white picture of Jeff Wiseman inside the front cover, with page after page covering every aspect of his, and his family’s lives, there was also an old picture of Jeff’s Grandfather, with a newspaper report of his death, I hope to read about your Grandson’s death later today, he said to the picture he was holding. The second file was very comprehensive, it covered the shooting down of a Liberator Aircraft by two Spitfires back in the early forties, it was dog-eared and well worn, he studied it carefully, went to the telephone, and made several calls, arranging meetings for later that evening, after doing this he put some of the files away, locked the case, he then tucked two files down beside the armchair and went to sleep. Adie arrived back put the newspapers and shopping in the kitchen then made herself scarce she did not want to be around when Mante woke up. At about five thirty, cosy in his tiny box room, Birche came round from his sleep, he shook himself awake and made his way to the main room, realising he had missed breakfast and lunch, he wandered into the kitchen and made some toast and tea, then made his way back to the living room where his coughing awoke Mante, he shook his head it ached even more, so he took two more of Adie’s HRT pills, and screamed her name, no reply, I’ll kill that fucking woman, she better have a good excuse for not being here. He noticed the newspapers, grabbing them eagerly he looked through to see if there was any report on the hit and run that took place in Kensington, the only mention was in The Sun, it stated that an M.P’s driver had been killed the previous evening, nobody else was injured, police were continuing their enquiries, fuck it, all that for nothing, but I will get you Mr. Bloody yank Wiseman. Telling Birche to make his self useful and check with the Embassy to see if there were any messages for him he picked up his case, and went out the front door, slamming it for good measure, he cursed when he found the lift was not working and that he had to walk downstairs, he then stood on the side of the road waiting for a taxi, Adie could see him from the car park across the road, she waited until he got in the taxi before she drove into her normal parking place.

She kept low down in her seat and waited for what seemed like hours until Birche came out of the flats and also found a taxi.

Chapter 8

There was a nip to the air around Greenwich, the River Thames looked grey and foreboding, the odd piece of rubbish being washed against the bank was soon swept away by the receding tide, Jeff asked Dennis if he would go to the Maritime records office at Erith and see if he could find out the names of any vessels that had searched for the Liberator or found parts of it during the years since it was shot down, he for his part would search for the Royal Navy Captains report that should be with the logs at Greenwich. The taxi was standing by, Jeff and Dennis turned away from the river, Dennis said, OK old boy, I’ll take the cab, do the search and meet you for lunch at The Greenwich Steak House at about 1.00pm, don’t be late, and good hunting, with this he jumped in the cab, gave a cheery wave through the window and ordered the driver to get on the way. It did not take Jeff long to find what he was looking for, mainly thanks to a very helpful young man who knew the records backwards, however the search call and report was very disappointing, the MT Boat attended the crash site very soon after the aircraft went down, but aside from some oil patches, four mail bags, and some clothing that eventually proved it was the correct site, because it had the crew members name stitched on it, there was no sign of the aircraft or any survivors. He had the Captains report copied, thanked the lad for his help, then made his way to the walkway alongside the river, and headed back towards the town. He had known before he left the USA that this would not be an easy task, or indeed that there was a guarantee that it would provide the sort of outcome he was hoping for, but he knew he had to follow every lead to the bitter end otherwise he would spend his life regretting he had not tried to achieve his promised objective. He made his way into the town centre and spent a pleasant couple of hours wandering round the Antique, and many book shops, he had found the restaurant, and was enjoying a nice lager when Dennis came through the door with a flourish of coat and papers, he came straight over, ordered a large Gin and Tonic and presented Jeff with his mornings work. He had been successful in finding out the names of the various ships and crew who had found parts of the aircraft over the years, all of them are local people to the wreck site, so it looks like a trip to the West Country for you my lad, wish I could come with you, but I must spend at least three days in London, to prove what a good M.P. I am, needless to say I will do all I can from here to assist, now where is the waiter, I could eat the whole cow.

Chapter 9

The journey to the Elephant and Castle took Mante Comte over thirty five minutes, it wasn’t the distance he was travelling, that caused the delay, it was the sheer volume of traffic, Mante was not a man blessed with patience, and the fact that the taxi fare was three times what he expected added to his bad attitude, he paid grudgingly, slammed the door then headed for the Elephant and Castle Public house. The pub had been refurbished since his last visit, unfortunately the clientele had not, but the type of person Mante was meeting was well suited to this sort of environment. He made his way slowly through the crowded bar, even he was frightened to push his way through as he normally did, every nationality of the world seemed to be represented one way or another, but it was mostly black people, who were now predominate in this area of South London. He eventually made it to the bar and ordered a drink, he felt out of place even though he was as black as the others, they knew a stranger, especially one with a briefcase, the bar soon went back to it’s normal high pitched noise, it had to, it was the only way you could hear yourself over the music. He forced his way into a position where he could see anyone enter the pub, he was gulping his drink down, even though it was a neat double scotch, he needed the Dutch courage he hoped the drink would give him, the man he was meeting had come highly recommended for the task he wanted doing. Time went by, Mante was beginning to sweat, the man was now forty five minutes late, but he had no option but to wait, ten more minutes passed then just as Mante was about to get another drink the main door flew open, three very menacing Yardies walked in and looked round the bar, the bar was now relatively quiet, the scrutiny continued until the men were obviously satisfied, they indicated to the door and a tall thin immaculate dressed West Indian man walked in, surrounded on all sides by what was his personal entourage, it reminded Mante of the time he attended the crowning of a Chief in his own country many years before. The man pointed to where he wished to sit, and his men removed the people sitting there, by just approaching them, the man sat down, and allowed just three of his colleagues to do likewise, the rest stood with their backs to him and surrounded the area, one chair was left empty, Mante knew without being told this was reserved for him. Drinks appeared without an order being placed, and another man already at the bar paid for them, his generosity was acknowledge by laughter and a wave of a glass, after about five minutes, Mante realised he was still standing with an empty glass in his hand and his mouth wide open, one of the men came over, took his case, opened it and checked the contents, he then searched Mante, including a very painful grab around his testicles, he nodded to the table and pushed Mante towards the empty seat. The empty glass was removed from his hand and he was pushed firmly down into the seat, hello brother, hope you haven’t been waiting long, please excuse my men, they take their work seriously, something I hope you remember if we are to do business, said the man he had come to meet, I don’t mind, I understand the need for security, said Mante through very dry lips, his heart was pounding, sweat was forming on his top lip and forehead, but he was too frightened to wipe it off. The man watched Mante and seemed to enjoy his obvious discomfort, my name is Mr. Banchu, and that’s what you can call me, now Mr Comte tell me what it is that is going to make me such a wealthy man, because my time is very expensive, you are already deep in debt to me, as normally I do not do business with unknown people without money up front. With his throat and lips as dry as a desert, Mante was struggling to say anything he had not felt such a feeling of fear since a certain high powered Diplomat had sat on his hospital bed all those years ago. After what seemed an age he stammered, I have secret information that will give us the opportunity to recover a valuable cargo of uncut diamonds, I need your help both here and in the USA, your share would amount to approximately two million US Dollars. There was a long silence Mr. Banchu looked directly at Mante drawing deeply on a small cigar he had lit whilst he was talking. Blowing a column of smoke into the already thick atmosphere of the pub, he said, can you give me proof of such a cargo, and before you reply, you will leave here with us and if what you say is not true Mr. Comte, you will never be seen again. Although he was still afraid, Mante was more confident now than when the meeting started, I have enough proof with me, but the exact location of the cargo remains a secret until we have agreed our terms, there is a lot at stake here, I have held this information and authenticated it for the last fifty years, I am too old to make a gift to anyone, but with you as a partner we can become very rich. Standing up with one powerful movement, Mr. Banchu leaned over the table and whispered into Mante’s ear, I am already very rich, but I met you because I was assured you had something real, I hope you have Mr. Comte, because people don’t fuck with me not even once, go with my men, I will follow when I have finished my drink, he waved his hand Mante was hauled to his feet and was out the door before he could even think, the men bundled him into the back of a large four wheeled drive Toyota and he was driven off in a southerly direction, nothing was said by anyone. The rest of the party remained in the pub, for the next hour Mr. Banchu, and his men were busy, a selection of low life’s came and went, the scruffier one’s were handled by one of his trusted men, the more affluent one’s were presented at the table the same way as Mante was, each of them handed over envelopes, which were checked and noted in a book, the entering was done by a weasel faced Asian. The money came from various known drug dealers, pimps and seedy nightclub owners who liked to be allowed to keep their businesses and their legs, Mr.Banchu never touched the money, goods, books or anything else, he had never served a sentence, or indeed been prosecuted, several of his men had, but that was what they were paid for. He enjoyed watching the fear in his clients eyes, as he drank three large glasses of whisky and lemonade, none of which he paid for, they just appeared at his side when his glass was empty, business complete he stood up, his men checked the street outside, nodded then without so much as a glance backwards he was gone.

Chapter 10

Around the same time in Copenhagen, a car pulled up outside a very exclusive town house, the property was owned by Sven Jorgen a very high ranking Director of an International Accounting Practice, two smartly dressed men got out one knocked at the door of the house, a butler answered the door, he recognised them, so he let them in, they were shown into the lounge and asked to wait. After a few minutes, the man they had come to see walked quickly into the room, he was about forty years old, tall, well groomed, and obviously not happy, I thought I told you at our last meeting that I did not want to see you again, I have not got what you want, and I am not in a position to get it, tell your employer his threats do not worry me, I have enough evidence to put him away for a very long time, so he dare not carry out his threat to kill me he shouted, now stop bothering me and my family, and don’t come back here again or I will go to the police. The older of the two men stayed very calm, but his voice was menacing, we have come here to give you a second chance, our principal does not wish you to do something that you will regret later, the younger man kept his head down and regularly sniffed, they both remained seated leaning forward with their arms resting on their knees, I have said my last words on the subject now get out of my house the man screamed again, just at that moment the man’s wife came into the room carrying a small baby who was crying, the two men stood up, for goodness sakes, can’t you please keep your voices down, you have woken the baby. The men ignored her, the older man again spoke, is that your final word on the subject, yes, the man replied, now get out, the men looked at one another, the eldest one just nodded and stepped back, the younger of the two sniffed again, then swiftly opened his coat to reveal a sawn off shotgun, he aimed it towards the man, then at the last moment turned and fired both barrels at the mother and child, the mothers head disappeared, and the baby was blown to pieces, blood, and brains were splattered across the carpet and up the walls, the bodies seemed to hang in mid-air before they fell across a white leather armchair, twitching, and still pumping blood, there was a deafening silence after the blasts then the older man said, the boss wants you in his office at ten in the morning, don’t be late, and bring what he wants with you, otherwise your other two children will be dead by lunchtime, you have some cleaning up to do so we will say goodnight, with that they turned and swiftly left the house the car was still waiting, they got in, the car pulled smoothly away the younger man still sniffing as they left.

Chapter 11

After a very enjoyable lunch, Jeff and Dennis made their way back to Dennis’s house, paid off the taxi, then settled down in the comfortable lounge with a nice cup of good old English tea, they discussed the information they had collated, in more detail, it appeared that the Navy Patrol Boat that attended the area immediately after the crash, was ordered away from the location as soon as it had established that there were no survivors, the material floating in the area was recovered. The records showed that no further efforts were made to recover the remains of those aboard or the cargo, which seemed very strange considering the high value of same, I will go to Lloyds of London tomorrow and ask for a copy of the manifest and the value of the shipment at the time, perhaps it’s not worth as much as we all think, remarked Jeff, perhaps that’s why they did not try, after all, there was a war on, hardly the ideal time to start a salvage operation. They made a list of places to call and locations to visit, as Dennis was going to be busy for a couple of days or so, Jeff was planning on not only visiting Lloyds, but also going to visit British Airways and see if they could recall the old records of B.O.A.C. the owners of the aircraft, albeit taken over into the Governments War effort at the time, if not perhaps the Civil Aviation people could assist. His visit was very interesting, Lloyds and the Civil Aviation authority agreed to send all the relevant information when they had traced it to Dennis, he was well known and they agreed that should there be any costs involved they would invoice him later. Jeff also booked a Hotel room in Plymouth, with the intent to use it as a base for his enquiries in the region, finally Dennis recommended a Car Hire firm he could get a self-drive car from, Jeff was not too happy about driving on the narrow English roads, especially as he had to remember to drive on the left, God help the people of Plymouth. As the time was now nearly five o’clock, Jeff went up to his room and decided to call Cindy, it was just approaching nine in the morning in Pheonix so his daughter would be at play group, and Cindy should be at home. The phone rang just twice before it