Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  ‘OK.’ Anthony Raven sounded brisk. ‘We’ve moved things on a bit. I’ll contact you all for another meeting in a few days when we might have some further news. Sergeant, when is Clarke being brought in?’

  ‘Tomorrow, I gather, Mr Raven.’

  ‘Right, keep your ear to the ground. As you say, this might stir things up a bit. I’m off to my Club now to see if I can put out a few feelers there.’

  *

  In a parked car another note was made. ‘Subject attended Ravens’ barristers chambers with two others. Spent two hours and left with one other male. Others watching.’

  *

  Anthony Raven settled into the deep leather chair with his favourite whisky, scanning a newspaper. He had made one or two what he hoped were innocent enquiries about Aubrey Potter and found that he had been a senior civil servant at the Home Office. He had been retired now for some years but was still called upon from time to time to assist on various committees. Raven decided he would attempt to make further enquiries about the subject of those committees.

  ‘Too engrossed in your paper for a chat, Anthony?’

  Raven looked up to see an old former colleague, Derek Watson, regarding him with a smile. Watson, he had heard, was now attached to the Civil Service in some vague way.

  ‘Course not, Derek. Sit yourself down.’

  They made small talk for a moment or two, and when this began to peter out, Raven was not surprised to see Watson regarding him over his glass. It was obvious that he had something on his mind.

  ‘I understand you’ve been asking about Aubrey Potter.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Someone else was asking me about him. I said I’d make enquiries.’

  ‘Of course.’ Watson appeared to consider for a moment. ‘Don’t suppose you’re free for lunch tomorrow, by any chance?’

  Anthony Raven regarded him with a thoughtful look.

  ‘I think I could be, Derek.’

  ‘Good. I’ll book the private dining room here for tomorrow at, say, twelve-thirty.’ He stood up to leave. ‘I’ll see you then. Oh, by the way, let’s just keep it between ourselves for the moment.’

  Raven watched Watson walk away and thought even deeper.

  *

  Peter, in company with Luigi, had decided to take a stroll on the Embankment. He felt frustrated following tonight’s meeting. Progress was being made, but Christa was right, it was all so slow!

  ‘At this rate we could be months amassing any evidence. I’m beginning to think Jonathan was right when he said that we needed Franklin to talk.’

  ‘What about his associates, Peter? The lawyer, Villiers, and that Hamilton fellow?’

  ‘I think once we corner Franklin they will talk, but I’m betting that until then they will keep quiet. I still wonder what’s driving Franklin. Past influences like this Helsenburgh person, some sort of ideological perfect society, or is it something more personal? The other night he made a comment about his brother Richard changing his views. Did Franklin think that he and his brother were of like minds, and then, as Richard diverged from the chosen path, did he feel let down in some way?’

  He stopped walking and Luigi, surprised, turned back to face him. Peter was warming to his sudden idea.

  ‘Luigi, just imagine that Richard did diverge from a supposed chosen path and this annoyed Franklin. Was my father right? Did he cause something to happen to his brother and sister-in-law as some sort of revenge? Likewise, my mother. Did she disappoint him in not following the path he envisaged for her, so he planned another “accident”?’

  Luigi came close and placed his hands on the young man’s shoulders, and looked up at him, his face serious.

  ‘Peter, if what you say is true, then you yourself could be in danger. Franklin has already steered your education and career in a particular way, but by your own admission, you have diverged from that. Please, boy, be careful. If anything should happen to you… too.’ His voice broke.

  Peter was overwhelmed by the emotion he could feel in this man who had been his staunch supporter for so long. He remembered Sarah’s comment that Maria Gandoni’s death might be attributed to the stress and grief of what happened to his parents, who were more like family. Luigi had already been hurt in so many ways by what happened, but he was still prepared to offer his support.

  Peter forced himself to laugh, and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I’ve no intention of going anywhere just yet.’

  *

  Just as anticipated! Dougie was that morning informed of the outcome of Clarke’s interview. Total denials and no comments. A waste of time; but it had to be tried. It was now a case of what would happen next. Would Clarke contact Franklin? It would have been good to have a warrant to tap the line, but then he remembered the payphone booth in the lobby at the Club: a far safer channel of communication.

  CHAPTER 26

  Derek Watson folded his napkin and laid it on the table.

  ‘Well, I must say, Anthony, they do an excellent meal here.’

  Anthony Raven looked over at his lunch companion. ‘I’ve never had a problem with it Derek. Since Monica passed away I’ve eaten here quite a bit. Can’t expect Jonathan and Susan to keep feeding me.’

  ‘Jonathan’s doing well, Anthony. You must be pleased that the firm will keep going if you decide to give up.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve no complaints, but I hope to put in a few more years yet!’

  ‘Am I right in thinking that you have a Peter Hartman working for you?’

  Well, thought Raven, at last we get down to business. ‘He did for a bit, but we made a mutual decision that he wasn’t cut out for a barrister, and he’s left to work for a firm in the city.’

  ‘I see.’

  Raven remained silent. He was giving no more away just yet. He still needed to know what this was all about.

  ‘Peter Hartman’s father found himself in a bit of hot water several years ago, didn’t he?’

  ‘I think both his parents died when he was a baby.’

  Raven grinned to himself, still not prepared to be drawn any further.

  ‘Hartman is some sort of relation to Judge Lionel Franklin, isn’t he?’

  ‘A bit removed. Something like a great uncle.’

  ‘You had dealings with Franklin in Court once or twice, didn’t you?’

  ‘Oh, he livened up proceedings on occasions.’

  Raven regarded Watson with a calm stare. Come on, Derek, he thought, say what you’ve come for.

  ‘I understand there are some rumours about Franklin. Have you heard anything?’

  ‘Rumours about what?’ Raven again smiled to himself. Still over to you, Derek.

  ‘Things like inappropriate use of his position.’

  ‘Well, Derek, if there’s any evidence it will have to be submitted to the correct body and investigated further.’ The voice of innocence, he thought.

  ‘Aubrey Potter was an old college chum of Franklin’s, I believe. Why do you want to know about him, Anthony?’

  ‘I told you. I’m making enquiries on behalf of another. Derek, as far as I’m aware I know of nothing on the statute books which prevents me from making general enquiries about another person. Is there something about Potter that I should know – or, maybe, shouldn’t know?’ Time to start asking some questions myself, Derek, old son.

  Watson shook his head and grinned at him. ‘You’re still a wily old fox, Anthony. If I’m ever up in Court you’ll be the first person I’ll call to represent me.’

  ‘Any time, Derek, but don’t expect preferential rates! Shall we now cut out all this nonsense and speak in plain English?’

  Watson passed over the brandy decanter, but Raven declined.

  ‘We’ve had suspicions about Potter for some while.’

  ‘You say “we”. Who are “we” Derek? No murky corners. Everything up
front, my lad.’

  Raven found himself being studied for a moment and then Watson put down his brandy glass and, sounding casual, said, ‘Oh, I think some of the security people are keeping an eye on him.’

  ‘Security? As in…?’

  Watson hesitated again, glanced at him, and said, ‘MI5.’

  Anthony Raven gave his companion a straight look. ‘Been up to no good, then, has he?’

  ‘He’s been a concern for some while now. Possible involvement in misusing his position. Then he retired, but of late he’s been helping on one or two committees which have interested us again.’

  ‘And how do you know all this, Derek? Or shouldn’t I ask?’

  ‘Better not to, but shall we say… I have connections.’ He leant closer to Raven. ‘Anthony, there have been certain political questions about him since he first came into the Civil Service.’

  ‘Rather a long time to play out your line without catching anything, isn’t it?’ Raven’s remark was dry.

  ‘I agree, but things have been hard to pick up on and prove. We thought in the seventies that he was active enough to nail down. Someone came close to achieving this, but we never quite made it, and due to certain… circumstances, we missed out on a lot of evidence. Now he looks as if he may be active again and we want to try to nab him this time.

  ‘We know that he still associates with Franklin. One of their Cambridge tutors back in the thirties was known to be of a particular political affiliation, and there might be some ongoing connection, but again, no strong evidence to back it up. Anthony, how close is Peter Hartman to Franklin? Is that who you are finding out information for? And if so, why?’

  ‘Mmm, several questions there, Derek. You know I cannot betray client confidentiality.’

  ‘I could quote all manner of security of the realm nonsense to you, Anthony, and make it awkward for you not to tell me, but I’ve known you for long enough to hope that this won’t be necessary.’

  ‘Not even matchsticks under the finger nails in a dark dungeon!’

  Watson sat back in his chair and gave him a steady look. ‘Well, Anthony, if that’s your bag, I’m sure we can arrange it.’

  Anthony Raven was thinking hard behind the jocular remarks. Was Derek Watson one of the dark shadows fishing to see how much collateral damage had been done by the resurrection of the Hartman murders? Or was he, on balance of probabilities, connected, as he had said, to British security?

  Raven kept up his air of innocent enquiry. ‘You mentioned that someone had the matter in hand some years ago, but nothing happened, and now you’re scrabbling for evidence?’

  Watson looked at him. ‘Alright, Anthony, I can see you’re not going to tell me anything unless I come clean.’ He took another sip of his whisky and then set down the glass.

  ‘You remember all the various political shenanigans in the seventies? Well, we decided to have certain people placed in the Civil Service, seeing what they could pick up. We had one report suggesting that Potter was passing on information to do with government contracts, and that this was being used by others as a form of destabilisation. Lionel Franklin’s name also came up. He had been tracked back, through sources I’m not going to tell you about, to maybe assisting the Irish in moving monies and other services, using contacts through his legal and banking connections.

  ‘At the same time, Peter Hartman’s father was getting a name for himself in the Met and was brought in to see what he could pick up about Franklin’s activities. Our man felt he was onto several good leads, and then Hartman hit the jackpot in nabbing an Irish operator at Glasgow airport, acting on an anonymous tip-off. Through other channels, we’d been hearing rumours that the Irish were becoming restive with someone over on this side, and were none too pleased when their man was caught. He wasn’t just a nondescript courier, but one of their top people, who we’d been after for some while. To this day I still can’t understand why they didn’t exact their own revenge. Anyway, it appears Potter’s been offering them information again. I’m not going to tell you how we know that either!’

  He looked hard at Raven. ‘As you said earlier, you are aware of the deaths of Alex and Catherine Hartman. Also connected, in all probability, was the death of the then Met Police Commissioner.’

  Receiving no discernible reaction from Anthony Raven, he continued, ‘Hartman must have reported in full to Sir John Fraser, who, against advice to the contrary, wanted to take action before referring everything to our man. I’m sorry to say that failure on our part to act on a warning from Hartman of trouble, and then reluctance in showing our hand by claiming his written evidence, led to others getting there before us. Someone in the Met at the time of the three deaths had enough clout to close down any investigation pretty fast. Far quicker than we had anticipated.

  ‘With the suicide in custody of one person apprehended in the Glasgow operation, and outright denials from another on the source of his instructions, we couldn’t be sure what evidence Hartman might have committed to his file about the matter and, indeed, our own involvement, so we told our man to pull out and lie low. We found ourselves on the back foot, losing out on vital information and giving the other side an advantage. They appeared to cool things off for a while, trying to gauge just how much was known and whether any action would be taken.

  ‘Now, we’ve heard that the police are working on a supposed confession to the Hartman and Fraser deaths by a former operator for a thug called Johnny Clarke, who’s also known to Franklin. We’re aware that Peter Hartman and others have been in consultation with you, and now you’re asking about Potter. We want to know what’s happening, Anthony.’

  Raven had to make a decision: trust Watson, or not. From what he had just said, the Francis question had now been explained, and it was obvious that they were all being watched. He took a deep breath.

  ‘Alright, Derek. You’ve been frank with me and I’ll take a chance on doing the same with you. Alex Hartman was warned about not trusting anyone as it wasn’t clear who was on what side. I’ve now found myself with the same dilemma. However, I’m going to stick my neck out and run with you, and I hope to God I’m doing the right thing.’

  Over the next hour he explained to Watson all he knew. When the existence of the copied files was disclosed, Watson became excited.

  ‘Bloody good show of Hartman’s. Shame we didn’t just wade in and contact his colleague, but we thought he’d been kept a bit in the dark about things, as Hartman had been instructed. When we’d decided to act in response to Hartman’s message that there was trouble brewing, it was too late, and with the Fraser and Hartman deaths we concluded that no one would start removing files in a hurry. From what you’ve said, it’s obvious that Rankin was given instructions to get them away as soon as possible. If we’d known Hartman’s colleague knew the lot… Mmm… bad move by us. It was a big, big error, and we missed a trick there.’

  He leant closer to Raven. ‘Anthony, I must meet Peter Hartman and Sergeant Johnson to discuss things. We all need to be singing from the same hymn book this time.’ He grinned. ‘I must say, I’m impressed with the detective work so far.’

  ‘Oh, there are still a few brains left outside the rarefied world of espionage, Derek,’ was Anthony Raven’s mild response.

  *

  Lionel Franklin tapped his pen on the blotter in front of him in annoyance. He had just been brought up to date on Clarke’s interview with the police and the content of their questioning. It appeared that Clarke’s man had given a certain amount away, if not all, about his activities; and although Clarke had dodged any pitfalls of complicity so far, Franklin was sure that the police would dig deeper. Were they just reacting to information proffered in a dubious deathbed confession, or did they have any other hard evidence to work on? His current source indicated that the CID was reviewing the Hartman murders, and one of Hartman’s former colleagues was also involved.

 
; Franklin had little concern about Clarke being implicated in any of this. If he failed to keep his subordinates quiet, that was his problem. However, he was banking on Clarke not revealing anything more sensitive. When Villiers had come to him in a panic with Clarke’s ultimatum for further money, a deal had been struck which appeared to defuse the situation. After all, Clarke must be aware that Franklin also knew a lot about other things he had been involved in, and could see to it that these were also leaked to the police. The reality was that they both had a lot to gain in not disclosing each other’s activities. This time he would get Clarke a good lawyer and use any other influence he still had to mitigate any sentence, if it came to that. No, Clarke would not be a problem as he saw it.

  The main worry was the bigger picture. It was fortunate that they had been able to take Hartman’s files out of circulation. Franklin was amazed and shocked at how much information had been accumulated, most of it accurate. Aubrey’s advice to curtail the majority of their activities for a while had been sound. Over time they had detected no further investigation and Hartman’s colleague had dropped back into the ordinary policing world; that is, until now! It was annoying that just as Potter had something for sale, this whole matter had flared up.

  Franklin had also begun to have concerns about Peter Hartman’s involvement. It was fortunate that Clarke had been instructed to arrange for the boy to be followed. Of late he had been observed with various people, including the Ravens, and now it all seemed too much of a coincidence. Was that why he had asked those apparently innocent questions about old college acquaintances? The boy had also lied about the girl. Despite what he had said, he was still seeing a lot of her.

  He must talk to Peter again, probe him a bit more, and find out what was going on.

  On a personal note, he also had to think about his imminent telephone call with Bonetti. It was imperative that he found an end to that situation – somehow.

  CHAPTER 27

  Peter was impressed by Derek Watson. He could sense that Dougie, like himself, was amazed at the disclosures this man had just made to them. He agreed with Anthony Raven’s assessment that Watson was on their side. When he and Dougie had arrived at the Ravens’ chambers earlier in the evening, they were told that he had spent several hours going through the papers. It was a proud moment for Peter when Watson complimented his father on his professional expertise in amassing the evidence. Peter made sure that Dougie was also given credit, and could tell that it was a relief to the other man that at last his responsibility for the matter could be relinquished to another agency.