Biggles and the Noble Lord

by Captain W E Johns

  ‘Did the chopper you saw look as if it might be going to land in this artificial African landscape?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I suppose it could have done. I didn’t give it a thought. When I saw it I knew nothing about this menagerie. It was later I saw the wall, and was following it round when I came to the entrance lodge.’

  Biggles stubbed his cigarette thoughtfully, and after a pause went on. ‘I wonder... could this be one of those coincidences? The result of our day’s work boils down to this. The thieves got away with the jewel case in a chopper. You see an unidentified chopper over Sussex not far from the home of Lord Malboise who buys expensive French porcelain and lives inside a wall with a lot of wild animals for company. On the face of it there’s something wrong with that. I’m wondering if there could be more to it than meets the eye. Of course, a herd of buffalo would be a good way of discouraging burglars — or any other sort of trespassers, for that matter.’

  ‘I can’t imagine Lord Malboise fiddling other people’s jewellery — why should he?’ Algy said.

  ‘I’ve lived long enough to imagine anything,’ returned Biggles cynically. ‘I feel inclined to run down and have a look at this place, and I’m not thinking about the buffalo. I’ve seen plenty. If I can get into the Hall simply by taking a ticket I’d be interested to see his lordship’s collection of French porcelain — assuming he has one.’

  ‘I know where the place is. I could run you down tomorrow. I told the man at the lodge I’d probably come back later, so he won’t be surprised to see me.’

  ‘Not so fast. I’ve a better idea than that,’ Biggles said. ‘I’m thinking of that chopper you saw, too. If it is there, it’s not likely to be standing where the buffalo could knock it about, or where casual visitors could see it. Before we do anything else let’s have a look at this place from top-sides. Get a picture of the entire set-up. I’ll fly down tomorrow if it’s fine. You can show me the way, Algy. We’ll get some photographs while we’re at it. Then we shall know more about it if we have a look round later from ground level. Let’s leave it like that for the moment. This noble lord may have thought of a good way of preventing lunatic teenagers, out for a giggle as they call it, from barging about all over his property; but he can’t stop an aircraft flying over it. Let’s go home. I’m sure Ginger must be itching to get those togs off and look more like himself.’

  CHAPTER 5

  BIGGLES IS NOT IMPRESSED

  ‘That’s the place, straight ahead. You can see the wall that runs all round the estate, so you can’t make any mistake.’ The speaker was Algy, and the time a little before ten on the morning following the events on the Great North Road.

  He was sitting next to Biggles in the cockpit of the old Air Police Auster, now beginning to look its age but still reliable enough for operations near home. At his request Bertie had been allowed to sit in the two-seat cabin behind the pilots, to make himself familiar with the area of landscape it was intended to survey. Ginger, still somewhat self-conscious about his dark skin — which he had found harder to take off than put on — had been content to remain on telephone duty at the office.

  Biggles, flying at something a little under 1,000 feet, changed his course a point to bring the aircraft directly in line with the objective, Brindon Hall, and its park which, as Algy had learned, was now a zoological garden. It was a typical English park, with a fair sprinkling of trees, some standing alone, others in small groups. The whole country below was in fact well wooded.

  ‘For a start I shall fly straight across,’ Biggles said. ‘We don’t want to attract attention. You can take a line of verticals while Bertie gets some obliques with the pistol-grip camera.’

  It was a clear, fine day, without a cloud in the sky, so with visibility perfect conditions were ideal for the air photography which had been the primary objective of the sortie. It was also hoped, although without much confidence, that the helicopter which Algy had seen over the district might be spotted.

  ‘I don’t see any sign of a chopper,’ Biggles remarked as he flew on.

  ‘It can’t be here or we’d be bound to see it,’ Algy answered, his eyes going over the ground.

  ‘What do you suppose is the purpose of that biggish building on the open ground this side of the Hall?’ queried Biggles, losing a little altitude as he approached.

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ replied Algy. ‘Is there any reason why a building of some sort shouldn’t be there?’

  ‘I was merely wondering about its purpose. It looks new. It can’t be stabling. In a place this size the stables and other outbuildings are usually attached to the house, or close to it, probably enclosing a yard.’

  ‘What’s in your mind?’

  ‘The thought occurred to me, as it stands at the end of that open stretch of grass, that it would be big enough to house a small aircraft — like a chopper, for instance! I know that’s a long shot, but it could be. The place is used for something, that’s certain. I can see tracks in the grass leading to it from the house. They’re plain enough from here, although they probably wouldn’t be so easy to see from ground level.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what it is,’ Algy announced, confidently. ‘Cattle pens. Covered accommodation for the buffalo. I doubt if they’d survive an English winter in the open. I don’t know where the beasts came from, but if it was from Africa they’d take a dim view of our climate around Christmas.’

  ‘That’s a new building. Why make it square?’ questioned Biggles. ‘All the cowsheds I’ve ever seen were long and narrow.’

  ‘Well, the animals would have to be fed. Hay, or something of that nature. There wouldn’t be enough grass here in hard weather to keep a flock of sheep in good condition, never mind a herd of buffalo. There they are now, lying near that clump of trees over to the right.’

  ‘I can see tracks leading to the building,’ observed Biggles.

  ‘You’d expect cattle to make tracks,’ Algy pointed out with a touch of sarcasm.

  ‘Certainly you would. But cattle usually have hooves. They don’t have wheels or skids on their feet. Unless something’s gone wrong with my eyes, I can see tracks that were made by one or the other outside that building.’

  ‘I suppose a vehicle of some sort would have to be used to take fodder to the buffalo when it was needed,’ argued Algy.

  ‘It isn’t needed now. There’s all the grass in the world.’

  ‘Okay. Have it your way,’ Algy said. ‘What’s on your mind?’

  ‘I was thinking that building would be large enough to house a small aircraft.’

  ‘It isn’t long enough.’

  ‘It’d take a small chopper. I know that sounds a pretty wild guess, but you did see one hereabouts. That’s what we were looking for. I don’t see one anywhere.’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect to see one standing in the open.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I mean. It would be under cover, particularly if there was any reason to keep it out of sight. You could be right about that building being something io do with the animals that have been turned into the park, but I’d like to have a closer look at it. Call it just plain curiosity. Things without any apparent practical purpose always did make me inquisitive. Maybe it’s a hangover from war flying, when too often things were not what they appeared to be. Unfortunately we have no reasonable excuse for coming to this part of the park even if we paid a visit to the Hall as casual tourists.’

  ‘In which case we might as well forget it,’ Algy said, operating the vertical camera let into the floor of the cockpit. ‘Photographs may well tell us something.’

  A sudden backfire of the engine made him look up sharply. Before he could speak it happened again. Biggles, with his hand on the throttle began ‘blipping’ the engine in quick successive bursts. Algy turned startled eyes to Biggles’ face. They asked a question.

  ‘We’re in trouble,’ Biggles stated calmly. He had begun to turn in wide circles over the open ground.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ as
ked Algy, anxiously.

  ‘I’m afraid we shall have to go down.’

  ‘What a place to have engine trouble!’

  ‘I’m not going on, with nothing but trees in front of us. There may not be another place for miles to get on the floor.’

  ‘That’s lovely,’ growled Algy. ‘What about the buffalo?’

  ‘We shall have to take our luck. They may not be as nasty as they look. Anyhow, we’ve no choice.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, that’s all I can say about it,’ Algy said bitterly. ‘If those brutes come for us we’ve had it.’

  ‘We shall have it if we go on and barge into those trees. Don’t talk. Can’t you see I’m trying to get us on the carpet in one piece?’

  Algy said no more.

  Biggles, no longer blipping the engine, which had in fact now cut out altogether as a stationary airscrew revealed, was ‘S’ turning over the open grass area. Now of course, losing height, he made his approach run and put the aircraft on the ground with the expertise of the experienced pilot he was. The machine ran to a stop some 20 or 30 yards from the building they had been discussing. No great distance away were the buffalo. They were no longer lying down, but standing up, staring at the Auster, noses thrust forward and massive horns lying back almost flat as in the manner of these creatures when disturbed or suspicious of something.

  Biggles opened the cockpit door and prepared to step out.

  ‘What are you doing?’ demanded Algy, in a voice stiff with alarm.

  ‘I’ll see if I can find out what’s wrong. While I’m doing that you might have a good look at the building.’

  ‘What the devil does it matter?’

  ‘I can see something odd about it even from here.’

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘There aren’t any windows. Why should anyone build a nice brick building like this, quite recently too, by the look of it, and forget to put in any windows?’

  ‘There’s a skylight. I saw it as we came down. Watch what you’re doing. Look at the buffalo. They’re uneasy already.’

  ‘If we don’t interfere with them, and I’m not so daft as to try anything like that, they shouldn’t interfere with us. They must have seen plenty of humans.’

  ‘Here, I say chaps, have a heart,’ came Bertie’s voice from behind. ‘If those brutes take a dislike to us they’d make matchwood of this old crate in a brace of shakes.’

  ‘Not to worry. Just sit still and say your prayers,’ retorted Biggles. So saying he stepped down, and walking forward opened the engine cowling.

  Algy was watching the buffalo. One of them, an old bull, was stamping a foot. ‘Get back in, you fool,’ he shouted to Biggles.

  Biggles took no notice. He was apparently doing something to the engine; but his eyes were on the building that had aroused his curiosity. But the double wooden doors were closed, and as there were no windows it was still not possible to see what, if anything, was inside.

  Algy now had fresh cause for concern, although whether to be more, or less worried, he didn’t know. Coming quickly across the rough turf from the direction of the Hall was a Land-Rover. He could see two men in it. ‘Look what’s coming,’ he called to Biggles, still busy on the engine.

  Biggles glanced up and went on with what he was doing.

  The Land-Rover drew up. One of the men got out, the driver remaining in his seat. The man who had got out, and now walked up to Biggles, was smiling. ‘In trouble?’ he inquired, cheerfully. He was a big man, tall and broad-shouldered. Clean shaven, and with what might have been called an open countenance, he wore an old tweed jacket and a deerstalker cap.

  ‘Just one of those things,’ Biggles answered. ‘I think I can put it right.’

  ‘I saw you coming down from the house. Can I help you?’

  ‘No thanks. This shouldn’t take more than a minute or two. Some fool mechanic left a terminal not properly screwed up, with the result that the connection has come adrift. How careless can some people be?’ Biggles was still working on the engine.

  ‘You’re welcome to come to my house if you want to use the telephone.’

  ‘I can manage, I think, thanks all the same.’

  ‘Well, come and have a drink, anyway. I can offer you a glass of excellent sherry.’

  ‘That’s very hospitable of you, sir,’ Biggles said, closing the engine cowling. ‘May I ask your name?’

  ‘Certainly. There’s no secret about it. Lord Malboise. That’s my young brother, Clarence, driving the car. He was worried my pet animals might do you a mischief.’

  ‘They haven’t done us any harm so far,’ returned Biggles.

  ‘They might have done, you know,’ Lord Malboise said seriously. ‘They’re used to seeing people, but they’re still not entirely reliable with strangers. They know me, and my car, of course.’

  ‘Why do you keep the big ugly brutes, if it isn’t a rude question?’ inquired Biggles, blandly.

  ‘You might call them my watchdogs. They discourage trespassers on my property.’

  ‘So I can imagine,’ Biggles said dryly.

  ‘Besides, people pay to come into the park to see them, and that helps pay my bills,’ Lord Malboise volunteered, smiling broadly.

  Biggles got down and went towards the cockpit. ‘I’ll see if that’s cured the trouble,’ he said.

  ‘I’d better wait to see you safely off. We don’t want an accident. Sure you won’t come over to the house for a drink?’

  ‘Thanks again, but I haven’t time now. I’m late for an appointment already, so I must press on. I hope to give myself the pleasure of calling another day.’

  ‘Any time.’

  Biggles got in and closed the door. Not seeing Bertie he looked round.

  ‘He’s all right,’ Algy said. ‘Looking for his eyeglass. Dropped it on the floor.’

  Biggles pressed the starter. The engine sprang to life. He ran it up as far as he dared and gave Lord Malboise a wave to show all was well. Lord Malboise got back into the Rover, which moved to one side to give the Auster a clear run.

  That was the end of the incident. Biggles took off, and having flown a straight course until he was well clear of the park began a wide turn for home.

  ‘Now we can talk more freely you can tell me something,’ Algy said, looking at Biggles suspiciously. ‘Was that forced landing genuine, or faked? Were you merely up to something?’

  A slow smile spread over Biggles’ face. ‘I confess I was up to something.’

  ‘Up to what?’

  ‘I told you I wanted a close look at that curious building, and the easiest way of doing that seemed to be to go down. It worked out even better than I hoped. We also had a close look at Lord Malboise.’

  ‘Nice feller.’

  ‘That was the impression he gave, I’ll admit.’

  ‘He came over to make sure the buffalo didn’t interfere with us.’

  ‘I know that’s what he said. I notice he didn’t lose any time coming over to see what we were doing.’

  Algy raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t you believe him?’

  ‘I have a feeling his real reason for coming across may have been he didn’t like us too near that building.’

  ‘What a suspicious dog you are,’ protested Algy. ‘He couldn’t have been more pleasant and hospitable.’

  ‘That’s what makes me suspicious,’ Biggles returned evenly. ‘Why should he go to that trouble? He didn’t know us. We meant nothing to him. He was a bit too pleasant. I’ve learnt to be wary of people who smile a lot when there’s really nothing to laugh at. A famous philosopher once said, a long time ago, beware of people you don’t know when they come with smiles and presents.’

  ‘Okay. Have it your way. I thought he was a nice enough chap. Anyhow, having had a close look at the building, what do you make of it?’

  ‘Not much. One can’t see through a brick wall. I can tell you this, though. That place is used quite a lot. Moreover, it has been used recently. That knocks on the
head your theory that it’s used only to provide cover for the animals in winter. Perhaps the photos will tell us more.’ Biggles half turned in his seat. ‘Why were you fiddling about on the floor, Bertie?’

  ‘When that Rover rolled up, old boy, I thought I’d better keep my mug out of sight.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Pull your belt up a notch, because this is going to shake you. The good-looking chappie driving that Rover was the one who tried to bribe me in the garage at the Savoy. I thought if he spotted I’d switched from a Rolls to a flying machine he might wonder why.’

  For a moment Biggles did not speak. Then he said, softly: ‘Well — well. That is interesting. Very interesting indeed. It makes our trip worth while. It all goes to show.’

  ‘Show what, exactly, old boy?’ inquired Bertie.

  ‘That you can’t judge a man by his manner or appearance. If his lordship’s brother Clarence tried to bribe you to leave the Rolls so that he could steal the jewel case, that makes him a crook. Here we find him associating with, if not actually living with, Lord Malboise. If his lordship knows what his brother is doing, and surely he must, that makes him a crook, too. There’s an old saying, if you fly with the rooks you’re a rook.’

  ‘Birds of a feather... and all that sort of thing, eh?’

  ‘Exactly. Now I’m more than ever determined to find out what’s inside that building that had me guessing.’

  ‘And how are you going to do that?’ Algy wanted to know.

  ‘We’ll find a way. But perhaps the next move should be to accept his lordship’s kind invitation to sample his sherry. That would give us an opportunity to cast an eye over his establishment. Let’s get home and think about it. There’s no great hurry. We can take our time. I’m beginning to get a feeling there’s more in Brindon Park than meets the eye of the casual visitor; and I’m not only thinking of buffalo. We shall see.’

  CHAPTER 6

  BIGGLES MAKES A DECISION

  Biggles said little on the way back to Headquarters, but in the office he revealed the lines on which his thoughts had been running. ‘This is a queer business,’ he said, reaching for a cigarette. ‘It’s so queer that it would be dangerous to jump to conclusions. In the first place Lord Malboise struck me as a queer type. I don’t know quite what it was about him, but he gave me the impression of not being entirely normal.’