Swan checked his watch. ‘She could be at lunch, I won’t do it now, in case Martin, answers it.’ Swan shook his head. ‘What a day I had yesterday, Arthur, I haven’t had that sort of action for a long time. This Fleischer chap, whoever he is, and whatever he’s up to, needs to be stopped, that’s for sure. God knows, how many more ex-Nazis, he’s got working for him.’
Gable nodded. ‘Have we got enough on him yet though, Alex? After all we’ve only got Kappelman’s letter.’
Swan interrupted. ‘And, the comments from the late Mr Lempiere, of course. Yes, he told me everything up on that gantry. He also gave the impression, that he didn’t like Fleischer very much. Anyway, let’s just keep all this to ourselves. I don’t want Stratton, or even worse, Dennis Martin in on this, just yet. I think we will be able to handle this for a while. What do you think, old chap?’
Gable agreed. ‘Shouldn’t be a problem. But what about, Staffy?’
‘I will just follow up on what I expect Dugdale would have told him already, and let him chew on that bone for a while. Thanks to you, and Whittaker, Plod will be busy now looking for Fleischer’s thugs, so that leaves us to get on with looking at how to deal with Fleischer, and his Onyx Cross organisation. By the way, is the letter in the safe?’
Gable nodded and Swan walked over to the wall and removed the painting of the Rapier aircraft. Behind the picture, was a small safe recessed into the wall. Swan turned the dial for the combination, opened the safe door and pulled out the envelope. Studying the handwriting, he walked over to his desk and sat down. After reading the letter, he placed it flat down on his desk. ‘Farewell my friend,’ he said solemnly, staring at Kappelman’s signature, at the bottom of the paper.
For the next few hours, the two SID men discussed the situation, and looked at all the facts, with Gable marking up the blackboard with the events, and links between them. Already on there, were the murders of Ruger and the test pilot, and after adding the recent incidents at Highdown, he drew a matchstick man at the side of this joined network of script, writing Fleischer with a big question mark at the end. Underneath this, he wrote the words, Onyx Cross. He stood back and looked at the board. ‘There we go.’ He was satisfied everything was now up to date.
Swan scrutinised the board and looked at the section on Ruger. ‘We still are nowhere with the Eagle will fall comment, are we old chap? Could he have been referring to the Black Arrow I wonder? Maybe it was some sort of codename, this man Fleischer was using for it.’ He shook his head. But it doesn’t make any sense. Why call it the Eagle, when it clearly is the Arrow? No, I think that we are barking up the wrong tree. However, I still think that the Eagle could still be some sort of machine.’
Swan sighed and walked closer to the chalkboard. ‘I’m afraid I’m stumped with this one. He turned to Gable. ‘Tell you what, put the kettle on again, let’s have a break.’
‘Good idea, and why don’t you call Janet? I suspect that she’ll be dying to hear from you.’
Across the other side of Green Park, Janet Ross was sitting at her desk on the third floor of Leconfield House, transcribing a recorded dictation from Martin, when her telephone extension rang. She took off her headphones and picked up the receiver. ‘625?’ She listened as the internal switchboard operator informed her of an external call for her. ‘Please put it through, thank you, Mary. Well, well, the wonderer finally returns.’
At the other end Swan smiled. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ replied Ross. ‘Bit busy, and seeing that you’re in the thick of it, I think that you can guess the reasons why.’
‘Yes, I seemed to have opened a large drum of worms, haven’t I?’
‘You can certainly say that again. I’ve lost count on how many times, I’ve heard your name mentioned around here, today. What’s going on? It’s like you’re still working here.’
Swan laughed. ‘Is that so?
I’ll meet you in The Yorkshire Grey, at six, and tell you all about it?’
‘Fine, I will see you later.’ Ross put down the receiver, replaced her headphones and continued with her transcript.
Later, at 6.15 in the evening, Swan hastily drove along the Kingsway, and veered right into High Holborn. On the corner of Grays Inn Road, he swung his car left into the car park of The Yorkshire Grey public house. Inside, was a smoke-filled atmosphere with customers scattered around the saloon bar in hearty conversation. Swan surveyed the area, noticing Janet Ross sitting alone in the far corner, with a slim glass half-full of gin and tonic on the table. He quickly paced over to her apologising. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ He leant down to kiss her on the cheek, then sat down on the chair in front of her.
Ross smiled, finally pleased to see him. ‘Any longer, and I would have been whisked off my feet by one of those gentlemen at the bar,’ she joked, pointing to three suited men, laughing at a joke, just told by one of them.
She took a sip from her glass. ‘So, Mr Swan, have you managed to upset any other security service, since we last spoke? You really have set the cat amongst the pigeons with your escapades on the Isle of Wight, you know?’
Swan smiled. ‘Well, it will give you people at Leconfield House, something to do for a while, I expect.’
Ross scowled. ‘Excuse me, I hope you know, I have plenty to do on a daily basis without you and your heroic escapades, adding to my pile.’
Swan laughed. ‘So, it sounds like old Dennis is in a bit of a flap then?’
‘You don’t know the half of it Alex. Since, he handed me an Eyes Only, for Hugo Davies this morning, it has been non-stop. I only just managed to meet Kathy Miller for lunch, because I had to a deliver a letter by hand to the Home Secretary, in time for a meeting.’
Swan thought for a moment. ‘What’s Davies got to do with it, I wonder?’
Ross shrugged, ‘No idea. So, what the hell went on down there? It sounds like World War Three, just broke out.’
Swan sighed. ‘I’ll tell you what, Janet. You could be pretty close, with what you just said there.’
Ross stared attentively. ‘What do you mean, Alex?’
Swan sighed again shaking his head. ‘Where do I start? What do you know so far?’
‘I know of the murders of the two Germans, and the poor man who was found at Highdown, and that’s about it.’
‘Well, you can add to that another death, this time a suicide, and someone pulling the triggers of the two men who killed Ruger and Kappelman.’
Ross touched her lips. ‘Good God! No wonder our place, is like a disturbed bee hive here. What are you and Arthur doing about it?’
‘We’re looking into what Ruger said to the boatman, before he died, about an eagle falling. We reckon that it could be something to do with a rocket or an aircraft, but not Black Arrow, and I’ve checked out the Concorde, which had its maiden flight in March, just in case that was the target, but it doesn’t seem to be connected in anyway, unless of course, it could be a codeword, as Arthur suggested.’
Ross leant forward. ‘Code word for what?’
‘Beats me, Janet. Anyway, I now refuse to answer any more of your interrogating questions, until I have a drink in my hand.’ He rose from his chair. ‘I’ll be right back, so don’t go leaving with any of those chaps, will you?’ Swan gave her a friendly stare.
Ross replied with a cheeky smile. ‘I’ll do my best not to.’
As Swan moved towards the bar, a hand with seriously nicotine-stained fingers suddenly gripped his arm. ‘Alex, long time no see.’
Swan turned and stared at the short man in a well-worn brown suit, with balding greasy hair. The man sat on a barstool shaking his hand.