Codename Angel (The Angel Chronicles Book 1)

by Jason Chapman

  When they reached the front door Frederick adjusted his tie and then turned to Fletcher. ‘Remember let me do all the talking, you’re here as an objective witness.’

  Fletcher stood to attention and nodded stiffly. ‘Understood sir.’

  Frederick knocked on the door and stood patiently. Inside movement could be heard. After several seconds the door creaked open to reveal a man. He was still in his pyjamas and dressing gown, despite the fact it was afternoon. The man hadn’t shaven in some time; a thick layer of stubble wrapped itself around his chin. Scruffy black hair sprayed outwards.

  Frederick removed his trilby and smiled. ‘Mr Brian Jones.’

  The man wrapped his dressing gown tightly around him, and squinted at the daylight, the curtains to the house had been drawn throughout the day. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, my name is Ralph Frederick and this is my colleague Group Captain Fletcher. We are here on behalf of the Air Ministry regarding your experience last month.’

  Jones stared blankly at Frederick. ‘The Air Ministry, I don’t understand you interviewed me three weeks ago regarding my story, why are you here again?’

  Frederick glanced at Fletcher; he’d been caught off guard with Jones’ claim that the Air Ministry had already been to interview him. The Professor quickly gathered his thoughts. ‘We are here to follow up on our last interview with you Mr Jones, just in case you have recalled any detail you might have missed out last time.’

  Jones nodded and beckoned them in. The three men walked through a narrow hallway into a small living room. Jones clearly relied on his wife to do the housework, but her absence was now obvious. Dirty dishes were stacked up on a dining table. Newspapers were piled up on the sofa, and piles of clothes had been dumped on the floor and on the living room chairs. ‘Sorry about the mess, since the night that Edith went missing I’ve let myself go a bit. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘That’s alright Mr Jones, we won’t take up too much of your time so tea won’t be necessary. If you could just recall what happened that night we would be most grateful.’

  Jones relayed his story to Frederick while Fletcher sat on the arm of a chair jotting down notes. Frederick listened as Jones talked about his experience trying his best to look interested, but doubt plagued his thoughts. Jones sounded sincere but despite this it didn’t convince Frederick that there was any truth to his story. When Jones had finished the room fell silent for several seconds.

  ‘I think about it time and time again, about the bright flash of light then the darkness, and I still can’t believe it happened.’ Tears welled up in Jones’ eyes. ‘Where’s my wife, where’s Edith and our baby.’ He started to sob. ‘Please bring her back, bring them both back please god!’

  Fletcher packed his notepad away and looked at Frederick, who signalled for him to leave the room.

  Frederick knelt down to console the sobbing man. ‘Mr Jones, on behalf of the Air Ministry I’d like to say how sorry I am about your wife. We will investigate this matter thoroughly.’

  ‘But you won’t be able to bring her back will you.’ Jones continued to sob.

  ‘I don’t know but I promise you we will do everything in our power to find out what happened to her. Mr Jones can you tell me why you decided to contact a newspaper about your story?’

  ‘It wasn’t me who contacted that newspaper it was my employer Sir Ingles.’ He wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  Frederick nodded thinking about Jones’ earlier claims. ‘You say you had already been visited by men from the Air Ministry, can you describe the men who interviewed you?’

  Jones composed himself. ‘There were three of them.’

  ‘Go on.’ Frederick encouraged.

  ‘There was something odd, they didn’t sound English more like European, I couldn’t quite guess. I have also had American journalists call here as well, the Los Angeles Times, they called last week.’

  ‘Really.’ Frederick replied sounding puzzled. ‘Did they say how they heard about your story?’

  ‘They claimed the Echo got in touch, just wanted to interview me. The News of The World has also been in contact.’

  Frederick nodded. ‘No one else has been to see you?’

  ‘Sir William Ingles was here yesterday with another man who was interested in my story, but that’s about all, except for family and friends, and now you.’

  Frederick smiled and then reached for his trilby. ‘Well I think that’s about all for now Mr Jones, you have been an enormous help to us.’

  Jones escorted Frederick out of the untidy living room. Fletcher was stood to attention outside the front door. A few neighbours had appeared and looked on chattering to each other as the two strangers said their goodbyes.

  ‘You know I think I will join you for that drink after all Group Captain, say seven this evening.’ Frederick offered.

  ‘That would be fine, I’m going to head back to RAF Yeadon and write that report you requested. I will be back later this afternoon if that’s alright with you Professor.’

  Frederick nodded. ‘Yes, I have things to do this afternoon anyway.’

  Both men parted company, Fletcher jumped into the car and sped off while Frederick headed into the hotel to look for a telephone.

  ‘European you say.’ Malcolm Chambers expressed his puzzlement. ‘I can assure you Ralph that you’re the first people the Air Ministry have sent to interview this man.’

  ‘Obviously someone picked up Jones’ story by way of the newspapers, but why they would pose as ministry officials is beyond me.’ Frederick explained. ‘And then there’s the American newspaper men.’

  ‘It does add depth to this investigation. I’ll have a word with Morris Stanford later on today and ask him to try and throw some light on the subject. In the meantime Ralph I want you to pop in on Sir William Ingles and find out about the man he was with yesterday talking to Jones. It’s important we find out who else has been taking an interest in Jones and his flying saucer story. What’s your initial assessment of the situation?’

  Frederick drew a deep breath. ‘He sounds sincere but I’m nowhere near being convinced that his wife was whisked away by Martians. The police report states that they searched the area where she vanished thoroughly and could find no trace of foul play. I think she just buggered off, judging by the state of their house I don’t blame her.’

  ‘Ok, the committee’s first meeting is on Monday so we’ll discuss this matter further. Hopefully Morris might have something on the Yanks and our so called European friends. Good luck with Sir Ingles.’

  Chapter 5

  Ripley Castle – 2:33pm

  Frederick stared at the large wooden oak door of Ripley castle. An unusual marking caught his eye as he grabbed the large door knocker. A three armed spiral pattern made up of individual circles was etched onto the door several inches above the knocker. After a short while the door was answered by a tall thin man who led Frederick through to a large sitting room.

  Sir William Ingles stood to greet Frederick shaking his hand vigorously. ‘Professor Frederick I presume from the Air Ministry, I am honoured.’ Ingles seemed over friendly and reminded Frederick of a character straight out of a historical novel he was currently reading. Portraits of long dead ancestors hung on the walls of the sitting room. One picture above the fireplace dominated the room. A man wearing a white vest with a red cross stared out from the canvas. ‘So what is it that brings Cambridge’s finest to my humble dwelling?’

  ‘I’m here looking into the alleged flying saucer kidnapping of Mrs Edith Jones.’

  ‘Really, I didn’t think the scientific world took the matter of flying saucers seriously.’

  ‘We don’t, but we are open minded, and besides this is more of an Air Ministry enquiry. I understand Mr Jones works for you?’

  Ingles nodded ‘He’s my game keeper’s clerk a most efficient young man, we’re all missing him terribly at the moment.’

  Frederick sipped from a tea cup a butler ha
d brought in moments earlier. ‘Mr Jones said you visited him yesterday with another gentleman regarding his flying saucer incident.’

  Ingles looked down his spectacles at Frederick. ‘Yes I was just visiting to see how he was, a friend of mine came up from London earlier this week and I mentioned the story to him.’

  ‘Would you care to divulge who this friend of yours is?’

  Ingles took a moment to finally reveal his friend’s identity. ‘Peter Horsley.’

  ‘As in Peter Horsley equerry to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh?’

  ‘The very same, I’ve known Peter for many years he comes up here twice a year to enjoy the trout fishing in the lake.’

  ‘And you took it upon yourself to introduce him to Mr Jones?’

  Ingles nodded. ‘Peter has a passing interest in flying saucers. He is also Air Ministry, I’m surprised your paths haven’t crossed since you’re both investigating the same thing.’

  Frederick now felt as if he was the one being questioned. ‘I have met Mr Horsley on a number of social occasions but he never expressed his interest in flying saucers. And the ministry doesn’t have any official body investigating UFOs.’

  ‘Yet here you are Professor.’ Ingles smiled. ‘Mr Horsley prefers to keep his interest to himself being a member of the royal household and all that. You know how the press are these days Professor. The Royal family doesn’t want the newspapers accusing them of being a bunch of crackpots.’

  ‘Are you saying that members of the Royal Family have an interest in flying saucers?’

  Ingles smiled at Frederick. ‘What I’m saying Professor is that these kinds of matters are best kept behind closed doors. Now if there’s nothing else I can do for you I have an estate to run.’

  Frederick thought for a moment, but could find nothing else to quiz Ingles about. He finished his tea and set the cup down. ‘No, you’ve been most generous in granting me an audience today Sir William, it’s been a pleasure meeting you.’

  ‘Not at all Professor I’ve enjoyed your little visit. Let me see you out.’

  As both men appeared out onto the courtyard Frederick pointed at the symbol on the door he had spotted on arrival. ‘That’s an interesting marking.’

  Ingles looked at what Frederick was pointing at nodding. ‘It’s been there centuries.’

  ‘Do you have any idea what it means?’

  Ingles thought for a moment. ‘I believe it was used to ward off evil spirits or something like that. It appears my ancestors were a little superstitious.’

  Frederick smiled and offered his hand. ‘Thank you again for your time Sir Ingles.’

  Ingles returned to the sitting room and walked over towards a telephone picking up the receiver. ‘Sarah could you connect me to Peter Horsley at the Palace please.’ Several seconds passed. ‘Peter old boy how are you it’s William, listen I have some information that might interest you.’

  Chapter 6

  Brief Encounter

  Downham Market Railway Station – Norfolk – 9:17am

  Monday 4th August 1952

  After his meeting with Sir William Ingles Frederick returned to the hotel and waited for Group Captain Fletcher. The RAF officer had written a full report about his experiences with unidentified flying objects during wartime bombing missions. Over the evening meal and drinks Fletcher also went into detail about other such occurrences he had heard about from other royal air force pilots.

  Frederick returned home the next day, and enjoyed the rest of the weekend with Elizabeth and Susan. He also found time to type out a short summary of the investigation for Lord Chambers.

  Engrossed in The Times newspaper Frederick failed to notice the two men approaching his table. Both men seated themselves opposite; they were dressed in identical grey suits with trilby style hats.

  ‘Doctor Ralph Frederick?’ One of them asked.

  Frederick peered over the top of his newspaper. ‘It’s Professor actually.’

  ‘I am sorry Professor.’ the man replied apologetically. ‘My name is Doctor Vincent Rothschild I am with the East German Academy of Sciences. This is my associate Doctor Androv Alexis also with the academy.’

  Frederick folded his paper and stared at both men. ‘Really and how is it you know me?’

  Rothschild grinned. ‘You are a Nobel Prize winning physicist well known at the academy and well respected.’

  ‘I’m honoured, I didn’t realise you chaps took work of western scientists seriously.’

  Rothschild stared back at Frederick. ‘Politics have no business in scientific research Professor Frederick. Politicians like to think they can use the scientific community to forward advances in warfare and political gain. I believe all scientists are the same the world over, our drive for discovery is a common purpose is it not.’

  Frederick found himself being impressed by Rothschild’s guile. ‘So what is it that brings you to this part of the world gentlemen?’

  ‘We wish to speak to you about a matter of up most importance Professor.’ Rothschild answered.

  Frederick looked at his watch. ‘Well I’m afraid I’m not going to have time I’m due to board a train to London shortly.’

  ‘It is your trip that we wish to speak to you about.’ Dr Alexis spoke for the first time.

  Frederick smiled politely. ‘I’m afraid my trip to London is of no scientific value gentlemen, just another tedious day at the office.’

  ‘We beg to differ Professor.’ Rothschild said. ‘You see we are very interested in the aspect of science you are going to discuss with your distinguished colleagues later on today.’

  Frederick started to feel a little uneasy in the presence of the two men. ‘And what aspect of science would that be exactly?’

  Rothschild looked around the cafe, a few people were scattered about. A man in a bowler hat and pinstriped suit reading a copy of the financial times. A couple chatting, too busy to notice the three men sat in the corner. Two women stood behind the counter gossiping, glancing disapprovingly every now and then at the couple. Rothschild turned back towards Frederick. ‘It retains to your discussions about flying saucers.’

  Frederick kept smiling. ‘Flying saucers? I’m afraid gentlemen I don’t quite follow.’

  Rothschild’s attitude changed. ‘Do not perceive us as being naive Professor, we know about the group your Prime Minister Winston Churchill has established.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid Dr Rothschild you have been misinformed, I’ve no interest in such nonsense. As a Nobel prize winning physicist I have to keep my feet firmly on the ground.’ The whistle of an approaching train sounded. Frederick checked his pocket watch. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me gentlemen I have a train to catch.’

  All three men got to their feet. The man in the bowler hat also stood tucked his paper under his arm before picking up his briefcase and heading towards the door. The man and woman stayed seated oblivious of the hustle and bustle of the train station. Frederick headed out of the door after the pinstripe, followed closely by Rothschild and Alexis. Frederick tried to distance himself from the two men, he hurried down the platform. The train was now slowly grinding to a halt, steam filled the platform making it difficult to see. Frederick grabbed the first carriage door handle he could find, but Rothschild grabbed his arm firmly.

  ‘Let go of me this instance!’ Frederick called out yanking his arm away from Rothschild’s grip. A train guard further on down the platform heard Frederick’s shout and looked in their direction.

  Rothschild expressed sincerity. ‘I am sorry Professor, but you seem unwilling to hear what I have to say. You are an amateur astronomer are you not?’

  Frederick was caught off guard, how is it this man knows so much about him?

  Rothschild noted the expression on Frederick’s face. ‘I have many friends at the Royal Society Professor who speak very highly of you and have told me much about you and your research. When you get the chance to peer through a telescope again consider this. The universe is a ma
thematical constant. If a star is born, then the mathematical possibility of the process repeating itself somewhere else is very high. So why do scientists ignore the possibility that the same is true with the creation of planets like ours. Can you be one hundred percent certain that we are alone in this vast universe? That our sun is the only star with a planetary system.’ Rothschild reached forward and opened the carriage door. ‘Goodbye Professor, our paths will cross again.’ He turned and headed back down the platform, Frederick stood rooted to the spot, watching the two men melt into the wave of passengers leaving the train.

  ‘Excuse me sir, but the train is about to leave, you must board.’ The station guard said.

  Frederick snapped out of his trance. ‘Yes of course.’ He apologised before stepping onto the railway carriage. The train whistle pierced the air as the locomotive slowly pulled out of the station.

  Chapter 7

  Gathering Storm

  The Royal society London

  11:23am

  Norman Hinshelwood sat behind his desk looking down at a document in front of him that Chester Osborne had handed him minutes earlier.

  Hinshelwood shook his head slowly at what he was reading. He took in a lung full of air then looked up at Osborne. ‘Are you sure this is true Chester?’

  ‘I’m one hundred percent certain.’

  Hinshelwood took another deep breath. ‘We need to speak to Professor Frederick about his activities. The Royal society will not tolerate such nonsense. It’s a centre for scientific learning not science fiction.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly.’ Osborne added.

  ‘Leave it with me I will speak to him as soon as I get the chance.’

  Osborne got to his feet and left the room, satisfied with what he had just done.

  Nothing is airtight

  Whitehall London

  12:42pm

  Morris Stanford and Malcolm Chambers listened as Frederick told them of his encounter at the train station earlier that morning and also his conversation with Professor Osborne a few days earlier. ‘Someone already knows of our existence.’ He warned.