by Ray Scott
‘This is Alan Kelsey…’ he began but Wallace kept on walking.
‘Can’t stop…I think I’ve been rumbled, that bloody woman I bumped into gave me the once over and I think she’s told the staff inside.’
‘Bugger it!’ McKay said. ‘Get out on the road way and turn left and start walking. We’ll turn to the right, and we’ll keep turning right and pick you up if you keep turning left and left. We can’t pick you up here, they’ll get the registration of Alan’s car. Make a note of Alan’s car, this one here, got the rego? Good. Now go… go…go!’
Wallace threaded his way through parked cars and headed for the exit into the street. Wallace heard a car start up behind him that he assumed was McKay and Kelsey. He turned to the left and once out of sight of the cottage commenced jogging. He heard the car come out of the car park and then the sound of the engine receded, they had obviously turned in the opposite direction.
Wallace turned left into another road and jogged down that. It stretched before him and he couldn’t see another turning. He could hear a car engine in the distance revving and assumed it was McKay and Kelsey. As he continued jogging a car turned into the road in front, about three hundred yards ahead. Despite McKay’s instruction he had been in such a panic that he had failed to take a note of Kelsey’s car, it could have been a Rolls Royce for all he knew, but luckily they caught sight of him and screamed to a halt.
‘Get in quick!’ McKay snapped urgently. ‘Lie on the floor and put that rug over you.’
There was another man in the back, Wallace fell to the floor and curled up. He flung a rug over him and said ‘G’day.’ Wallace didn’t have time to register much about the third man as the rug enveloped him.
The car turned left at the end of the road and headed away from Anne Hathaway’s Cottage; that much he could tell from the way the car swung around. Then he lost all track of direction as the car twisted and turned, and then felt an upward incline.
‘Lie still’ commanded McKay. ‘We should be all right now. We’re in a multi storey car park; just let us look around first.’
There was a brief delay and then the rear door opened.
‘Put that on,’ said a voice. Wallace grabbed hold of a baseball cap and pulled it over his eyes. The fair haired man who had been chatting to McKay at the car park nodded to him.
‘G’day! My name is Kelsey, Alan to you. We’ve spoken on the telephone.’
Wallace felt a hand seeking his, he grasped it and they solemnly shook hands.
‘What the hell do we do now? That bloody woman…!’
‘Are you sure she cottoned onto you?’ McKay asked.
‘No, not certain. But she looked at me twice and then disappeared inside at a fast rate. I saw her talking to one of the staff and then they both looked at me out of the window, next time I looked the receptionist was on the telephone.’
‘Damn!’ Kelsey said irritably. ‘We could do without this, but I agree, we can’t take any chances.’ He turned to the third man. ‘Dick, get those sunglasses out of the glove box, and Harry, put this sweater on, if that woman did recognise you she’d have told them what you were wearing.’
Wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat certainly prevented Wallace from being casually recognised from any picture that Elsie might have supplied to the English police or press or to Kalim, but when coupled with a loose fitting sweater it also had the effect of making him look like a street corner drug dealer. If he had been a country town policeman and spotted anyone dressed like that he would have arrested him on sight. But he agreed with Kelsey, what else could they do?
‘This is Dick Jackson,’ Kelsey said and indicated the other man who had been in the back seat. The other man nodded and raised one hand in salute and said ‘G’day, Harry!’
He was dark haired, aged around 45, was about 5’10” in height and had a receding hair line. He had a large nose and big ears and wore spectacles which gave him a studious look. Wallace returned the greeting and turned to Kelsey.
‘What now?’ he asked.
‘We’ll stick to the original plan,’ said Kelsey. ‘Which you don’t know about as yet but it’s simple enough. I have been in touch with Wakefield, I telephoned him yesterday. I am a potential client and I have an appointment with him at 3.30. I have a small factory nearby and I am dissatisfied with my present insurers… so he’s seeing me this afternoon to get details.’
‘He won’t fall for that!’
‘Why not? He already has. He must have quite a few calls like that in the course of a twelvemonth,’ Kelsey said sharply. ‘Your friend is an insurance broker isn’t he?’ He needs business’
‘He’ll check the location and the name of the factory, it would be the first thing he’d do.’
‘He hasn’t got a location. I told him my name was Johnson, which is common enough around here.’
‘What if you don’t see Ben? He’s got a few staff in there.’
‘I told him I had to see him, I didn’t deal with minions, or words to that effect.’
Wallace subsided into silence, he couldn’t think of any further objections. As a plan it was simple, yet he could see its merits. Introducing himself as a member of the Australian High Commission would have caused complications, had Wallace been Ben he would have immediately associated it with Harry Wallace the political murderer.
‘We’ll find his office first, I understand it’s off the main street.’
They found Ben’s office premises and entered a coffee shop just down the road. Time was getting on and it was nearly 3.30 pm. They had heard a police siren as they walked around the town, whether it was to do with Wallace was difficult to say but he assumed it was. The possible presence of a political murderer in the town would probably generate considerable excitement and activity. He had walked with Kelsey, while McKay had walked some distance behind with Dick Jackson. Jackson was carrying a small metal case.
Kelsey drained his coffee and put down his cup.
‘Ready to go,’ he announced. ‘I’ll walk in and introduce myself to his receptionist, you come in when I get the come hither, I’ll then signal to you or Dave McKay…OK? I’ll look to the door, Dave can give you the nod and you come in, I’ll vouch for you as being with me, you’ve been parking the car or something like that.’
Wallace and the others agreed. Kelsey appeared to have taken over the operation.
‘Dave and Dick Jackson will stay out here, we don’t want too many pairs of boots clumping into his office, four men will be a bit intimidating, even for a bloke like Wakefield. When we get into his sanctum leave the talking to me, in any case he may not recognise you initially in that get up.’
McKay stationed himself outside the office doorway, Wallace didn’t want to be seen hovering around the entrance if he was supposed to be parking a car while Kelsey waited inside. He had conflicting emotions as he valued the friendship with Ben and feared that this business could change it forever now that he knew. Ben Wakefield must know what baggage Wallace bore on his back, a suspected murderer on the run from the police, who had compromised him by taking refuge under his roof.
Wallace saw McKay signal and headed for the front door of Ben’s premises which he entered. Alan Kelsey was just outside the door to Ben’s sanctum, the receptionist looked a little puzzled when Wallace entered but Kelsey said: ‘It’s OK, he’s with me, he’s been parking the car,’ whereupon she nodded and waved him in.
They entered Ben’s office and Ben rose from behind his desk and extended his hand to Kelsey who shook it warmly. Then he caught sight of Wallace and gave a double take.
‘Harry!’ he ejaculated. ‘What the blazes…! What the hell’s going on?’
‘He’s with me,’ said Kelsey.
‘With you?’ Ben asked. ‘What has Harry to do with your factory, Mr Johnson?’
He ignored his own question and looked at Wallace again.
‘What’s going on with you, Harry?’ he demanded. ‘Liz showed me your picture in the paper, what the hel
l have you been doing?’
Kelsey raised his hand and interrupted before Ben could continue.
‘Mr Wakefield, will you give me time to explain?’
‘Explain, how can you explain what I saw in the papers…?’
‘Mr Wakefield, just give me five minutes,’ Kelsey said. ‘Five minutes is all I ask, after that you can either listen further to what we have to say, or throw us out.’
Ben remained standing behind his desk, Kelsey eyed him levelly, and Ben nodded.
‘OK,’ he said finally. ‘It had better be good.’
‘It will be,’ promised Kelsey. ‘May we sit down?’
Ben nodded reluctantly and Kelsey sat down opposite him, Wallace remained standing by the door. Ben’s reaction to his presence, although he had been expecting something like it as Ben couldn’t be insulated from his plight indefinitely, Wallace found upsetting. However, it was up to Kelsey now. Ben switched his gaze from Kelsey to Wallace, it wasn’t friendly.
‘Firstly, my name is Alan Kelsey, not Johnson. I had to use a subterfuge to gain entry to your office, and I hope to make it clear why I did so. I am attached to the Australian High Commission in London, this is my card,’ he flipped a business card in front of Ben who picked it up and perused it.
‘What is this?’ asked Ben. ‘How do I know this is genuine?’
‘You don’t,’ Kelsey responded. ‘But I can confirm it, or better still, you can. I suggest you ring the High Commission in London, they will vouch for me.’
Ben sat, and looked at the business card.
‘If you’ve any doubts about our bona fides, ask your receptionist to ring them, don’t rely on what’s on the card or what I tell you, she can get the number herself using Directory Enquiries,’ said Kelsey. ‘When they answer, ask the girl on the switchboard if you can speak to me, obviously I won’t be there. Then ask for Gordon Espley. He’s in Commerce and Trade.’
Ben considered the proposal, and then nodded.
‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘Hang on a minute.’
He rose and went to the door.
‘Beryl!’ he called. ‘Get me the Australian High Commission in London; you’ll have to find the number.’
They heard her respond and Ben returned to his seat.
Kelsey began. He started way back in Jakarta as Wallace had done with Fred Hackett, and added that Wallace had at one time been employed by the intelligence agency. He had reached the point where Kalim had ingratiated himself with Wallace at the hotel when the telephone rang. Ben picked it up, and after confirming it was the High Commission he asked for Kelsey. As expected he drew a blank whereupon he asked for Gordon Espley.
‘Mr Espley?’ he asked. ‘Good. My name is Ben Wakefield, I am an insurance broker in Stratford-on-Avon, and I have a gentleman in my office who claims he’s from your High Commission and…what? Yes, that’s right…Kelsey. He’s here. Hold on.’
‘He wants to speak to you,’ he said, proffering the telephone instrument to Kelsey.
Kelsey took hold of it and spoke to Espley.
‘Hello Gordon,’ he said. ‘Yes, he needed confirmation, understandably so. Yes…yes…OK, I’ll hand you back.’
‘He wants to speak with you again,’ he said to Ben.
There was a brief exchange between Ben and the speaker at the other end before he replaced the receiver and looked at Kelsey.
‘All right, so you are who you say you are,’ he said to Kelsey. ‘Now go on, I’m listening.’
Kelsey resumed the story, he didn’t miss anything out; Wallace saw a smile flicker across Ben’s face when Kelsey mentioned how Wallace had been tipping drinks into the flower pots at the restaurant and later at the apartment.
‘That’d be right, the bastard never could hold his liquor,’ he grunted. ‘He always was a right piss pot!’ Despite the seriousness of the situation both Kelsey and Wallace found time to smile. It also made Wallace feel happier, it indicated that Ben’s rancour against him could be dissipating, and he valued that.
Kelsey finished the story, bringing it up to date with McKay and Wallace alighting at Knowle. He didn’t mention Fred Hackett by name, since Fred had probably broken the law by giving them succour he didn’t want to drag his name in unnecessarily.
‘So why are you here?’ Ben asked. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Two reasons,’ said Kelsey. ‘Firstly, to clear the lines between you and Harry here, I understand you are old friends and he was concerned about that. Secondly, you told Harry you’d had a burglary some weeks back. We believe the object of the break-in was to bug your telephone. There have been other break-ins suffered by people that Harry might contact in England. We believe they were carried out by these people who wanted to keep tabs on him while he was in England. This was so they could place where he was while they were making arrangements for compromising him after the assassination.’
‘My God!’ Ben was alarmed. ‘You mean this telephone could be bugged?’
‘Well, it’s a possibility,’ conceded Kelsey. ‘But unlikely, we can check it and we can check it now.’
‘How is that?’
‘We have one of our operatives outside; he is an electronics technician, in fact…’ a slight smile passed his lips ‘…you could say he’s a professional bugger…he is an expert in matters like this. We need your permission to check your home telephone, but we can check this one now if you wish.’
‘Yes, check it by all means,’ Ben nodded. ‘A lot of confidential information comes over this phone, if details of burglary protections or personal details get into the wrong hands and they are traced back to me then I’m really in trouble.’
Kelsey produced a card from his pocket.
‘I can bring him in now. He’s right outside,’ he extended his hand for the phone and Ben pushed it across the desk. Kelsey dialled a number and Wallace could hear Jackson’s gravelly voice at the other end.
‘Sorry, wrong number, I wanted the Gas company,’ said Kelsey and hung up. He turned to Ben. ‘Sorry about the melodrama, we arranged that previously. If it is bugged we don’t want to broadcast that we might be onto it.’
‘All right, I can understand that,’ said Ben.
‘How’s Liz?’ Wallace asked as they waited for Jackson.
‘Shaken and churned up,’ said Ben. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Wallace said sadly. ‘I’m not looking forward to that.’
‘She’ll come round…in time!’ Ben said and smiled. ‘You’ve got a lot of credit there.’
They heard the outside office door into the street opening and within a few seconds Dick Jackson was admitted into Ben’s office.
‘G’day!’ he said. ‘Dick Jackson’ and shook Ben’s hand. He turned to Alan Kelsey. ‘I’ll check this one first.’
He opened his case and produced various pieces of equipment. Ben vacated his desk and a high pitched whine assailed their eardrums as Jackson ran a meter around the telephone. After several passes, and after he had unscrewed the receiver and checked it inside, he nodded.
‘All clear,’ he said. ‘I’ll just check around the room, won’t take me long.’
He did so, holding a detector in his hand he went all around the room, until the high pitched whining began to bring tears to their eyes.
‘All clear,’ he said again. ‘Can I check in the other office now?’
Ben nodded.
‘There’s a telephone in my assistant’s office, another in my junior clerk’s office and one in an interview room.’
‘Tell your girl I’m from British Telecom, we don’t want too many rumours circulating around. We’re out of our jurisdiction strictly speaking and we don’t want angry police or security authorities descending on the High Commission,’ said Jackson.
After several minutes of probing Jackson pronounced he was satisfied.
‘All clear,’ he said.
‘You’re not trading under your own name here are you?’ Kelsey asked Ben.
‘No, I trade under the name Foresight Insurance Brokers.’
‘That may be one reason why they didn’t bug you here, they didn’t associate you and your brokerage together,’ said Kelsey.
‘Well, that leaves your home phone.’
‘You want to do it now?’
‘No, when you arrive home at your normal time. Stick to your normal routine. We’ll come with you and Dick will travel with you and go in the house with you. I suggest you drive into your garage before Dick gets out with his box of tricks. We’ll have to stay in the vicinity somewhere. If anyone is watching your house, which is just possible but not likely, we can’t take chances. Consequently we don’t want to all go trooping in. If they are around it may warn them that we’re on to them.’
They spent the rest of the afternoon touring around Stratford, Wallace wasn’t too keen to emerge from Kelsey’s car because of fears of being recognised. There appeared to be some police activity around the town, so it did look as though the woman at Anne Hathaway’s Cottage had reported Wallace’s presence in the town. In view of that it was decided to drop Dick Jackson at Ben’s office while Kelsey, McKay and Wallace made the trip to Knowle. They arrived in the vicinity of Ben’s house and took a few circles around the neighbourhood keeping an eye open for any parked cars that looked suspicious. There were quite a few, but all seemed to be empty and parked outside houses.
‘What do we do if his telephone is bugged, zap it?’ Wallace asked as they paused for a few minutes outside the main village. Kelsey shook his head.
‘No, our thinking is to leave it in place. We could use it to set a trap. But we can’t do it ourselves. What I said in Ben Wakefield’s office is quite true. We’re out of our jurisdiction here. We can’t go conducting our own police or anti-terrorist operations in England, that’s the job of M.I.5. We have to contact them and give them what we’ve got. They’ll know all about Kalim from their own sources, even if they aren’t aware of his latest activities, and we’ll have to include Murray Craddock as well.’
Another thought, or two of them, occurred to Wallace and he turned to McKay.
