Hellfire (2011)

by James Holland

As they pulled up outside Red Pillars, Tanner looked up and saw the kites still circling – did they ever stop? They went up the steps and into the hallway, and there was Abdu on his little trolley, greeting them like old friends. ‘How are you, sir?’ he said cheerily. ‘All well, I trust?’

  ‘Fine, thank you, Abdu,’ said Vaughan. ‘Is RJ in?’

  ‘Yes, sir. The chief is here.’

  Up the stairs, two at a time, a brief greeting to Daphne, then down the corridor and a light rap on the door.

  ‘Come!’ said Maunsell’s familiar voice.

  As they opened the door and stepped back into Maunsell’s office, Tanner wondered what they were going to say. He and Vaughan had not really discussed it. ‘We’ll go to RJ and see what he has to say,’ Vaughan had suggested, as they’d motored to Burg El Arab. It had seemed as good a plan as any.

  ‘Alex, Jack!’ said Maunsell, standing up and greeting them effusively. ‘The heroes return! I hear great deeds have been performed and Field Marshal Rommel is on the run.’

  ‘It seems so,’ said Vaughan.

  ‘Sit down, sit down,’ said Maunsell. ‘Drink?’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Vaughan. ‘A Scotch, if you’ve got one.’

  ‘Of course. Jack?’

  ‘Please, RJ.’

  He went over to the drinks tray, which sat, as always, on the side-table, and poured three generous measures. ‘So,’ he said, handing them their glasses, ‘what brings you back here?’

  ‘It’s about Orca,’ said Vaughan.

  Maunsell eyed them. Yes?

  ‘You haven’t caught him, have you?’

  ‘No, we haven’t – although, of course, the most important factor is that the Cobra circuit has long since been broken, and the Panzer Army is on the run. It’s a source of frustration, obviously, that he’s still out there, but it’s hard to see what harm he can do.’

  ‘No, but he’s also a murderer. Justice needs to be served.’

  ‘I agree.’ Maunsell smiled. ‘But you didn’t come all the way here to tell me that.’

  ‘No,’ said Tanner. ‘You see, we reckon we know who Orca is.’

  ‘You do?’ said Maunsell. ‘How on earth?’

  ‘Simple, really,’ said Tanner. ‘He’s left-handed. I suddenly realized that the man who hit me the night Tanja Zanowski was killed had used his left fist. He didn’t need to do that. It would have been easier to hit me with the right, but he didn’t.’

  ‘And I remembered the autopsy report,’ said Vaughan. ‘He had held her down with his right hand and cut her throat with the left. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.’

  ‘And then I started thinking,’ said Tanner, ‘and I began to put two and two together. I thought of who had known about our suspicions of the tailor, Moussa, and the speed with which Tanja was able to send her signals. You see, she told me what she had sent, and when I put it all together, I realized there were very, very few people who could possibly have known what she had been told. But what nailed it was what happened when Tanja was arrested. That meant it had to be someone within SIME. I discounted Sansom and Astley because they weren’t privy to the kind of intelligence the operatives had and, in any case, they’re right-handed. Admittedly, I couldn’t account for all the operatives here, but I was pretty sure who our man was. When I spoke to Alex, he confirmed it, though.’

  ‘It’s conclusive, RJ,’ added Vaughan. ‘There can be no doubt.’

  ‘It’s Maddox,’ said Tanner.

  ‘Paddy?’ Maunsell said, an incredulous expression on his face. ‘You think Paddy Maddox is Orca?’

  ‘I know he is. And there’s also the death of Eslem Mustafa. As soon as Alex told me what had happened, I wondered who had seen him in his cell that day. A hidden piece of glass – I’d put good money on it that Maddox brought that in and killed him himself.’

  Maunsell frowned. ‘Paddy was the last person to see him alive. Neither Rolo nor Tilly had managed to break Mustafa, but then Paddy offered to try. None of us thought there was anything suspicious in it at the time – it was a small piece of glass, after all, and could easily have survived being laundered.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought it suspicious either, RJ,’ said Vaughan. ‘Not until I saw Jack last night. Then suddenly it seemed so obvious. We never suspected him so we never saw the clues.’

  Maunsell sat back in his seat, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin. ‘Good Lord,’ he muttered. ‘What a betrayal. And what fools we’ve been. But you’re right – Paddy must be Orca.’ He leaned forward and pressed the intercom on his desk. ‘Daphne, can you send Paddy Maddox in, please?’

  ‘He’s just left, RJ. He was standing by your door, about to see you, I thought. I told him you had Alex and Jack with you, and he hurried off out.’

  Tanner was on his feet immediately, making for the door, Vaughan and Maunsell just behind him. ‘When did he leave?’ he asked Daphne, as they reached the landing by the stairs.

  ‘Thirty seconds ago – literally just now. Why – is anything wrong?’

  None of them replied. Instead they ran to the stairs, hurrying down to the hallway, out through the door, down the steps, Tanner with his Sauer in his hand. Where the hell is he? Across the street, a car was moving off.

  ‘There!’ shouted Tanner.

  The driver who had brought them was still waiting, so they jumped in, Tanner beside the driver, Vaughan and Maunsell in the back. ‘That Morris up ahead,’ said Tanner. ‘Follow it.’

  ‘Quickly!’ added Maunsell.

  Along Tolombat Street they sped, soon gaining on the Morris, but as Maddox’s car turned out of Garden City and right on to Sharia Kasr El Aini, they briefly lost sight of it in the heavy traffic, before catching up with it again.

  ‘I can’t get a clear shot,’ said Tanner. ‘He’s just too far ahead of us.’

  ‘Come on, man,’ Maunsell said to the driver, ‘put your foot down.’

  ‘I’m trying, sir,’ said the man. ‘It’s the traffic.’

  It began to thin as they headed south out of town.

  ‘Where the hell is he going?’ muttered Vaughan.

  They were gaining on him, and Tanner now leaned out of the window and fired a shot, but missed. Maddox swerved, and then they were entering Old Cairo, and their quarry was turning towards the quayside. A cart cut across them, tyres screeching – they managed to avoid a collision. They had lost ground, but ahead Maddox was now in trouble as a truck, emerging from a side-road, barred his way.

  ‘We’ve got him!’ shouted Vaughan, but Maddox was getting out of the car and running. As soon as they ground to a halt behind the Morris, Tanner was out and running after him. He could see Maddox ahead, glancing back, the cool façade that he usually wore now gone. Where’s he heading? Tanner’s chest was tightening, his legs straining. Now they were nearing the wide open space of the quayside, with its warehouses and rows of stalls.

  ‘Stop!’ shouted Tanner. ‘Maddox, stop!’

  But Maddox ran on, turning down beside one of the warehouses. I can’t lose him now. Quickening his pace, Tanner gained a few precious paces to come within twenty yards of Maddox, then stopped and aimed his pistol, his arms outstretched. What was it? Thirty yards? Getting towards the maximum range for a pistol. Tanner squeezed the trigger once, then twice, and saw Maddox flinch as a bullet hit his shoulder. Now he turned, aimed and fired, but Tanner sidestepped and the bullet missed. Shocked Egyptians were hurrying clear, and Tanner, his pistol still in his outstretched hands, said, ‘Maddox, it’s all over.’

  Still Maddox ran on, but his pace was slowing and Tanner soon gained on him.

  ‘Stop!’ shouted Tanner again, at which Maddox turned and once more aimed. This time Tanner knew he could not miss. Firing first, he hit Maddox square in the stomach. He staggered backwards, dropped his weapon and fell to his knees. Tanner hurried towards him, standing over him, pistol pointing straight at him.

  ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Why, Maddox?’

  There was blood on his lip
s and a line of it now ran from his mouth and down his chin. His hand, clutching his stomach, was bright red.

  ‘Three reasons,’ said Maddox, swaying. Tanner was now conscious of Maunsell and Vaughan beside him. ‘I’m Irish, not British. I’ve been working against the British for years.’ He held up two fingers. ‘Second – the money. The Germans paid me lots of it.’

  ‘And the third?’ asked Vaughan.

  Maddox smiled. ‘The third. Because,’ he said, ‘it was exciting. Pulling the wool over all your eyes. It’s been fun.’ He spat the words, so that a spray of blood fell down his shirt and suit.

  ‘I trusted you,’ said Maunsell.

  ‘Don’t you know the first rule of espionage,’ said Maddox, ‘never to trust anyone?’ He coughed, looked at them strangely, then collapsed on the ground, dead.

  Three days later, Tanner was sitting at the top of the massive escarpment that overlooked Sollum and marked the Egyptian and Libyan border. Progress had been rapid in the two days since he had rejoined the battalion. Mersa Matruh had been retaken, so too Sidi Barrani, and now, here they were, stopping for the night and about to enter Libya once more.

  ‘Let’s hope it really is the last bloody time we come through here,’ said Sykes, as they looked back along the coast and the vast desert stretching away from them. ‘I mean, pukka view and all that but, frankly, I know this place better than I’d ever wanted to.’

  Peploe now came over to them. ‘I’ve just heard the news.’ He grinned. ‘We’ve invaded Algeria. Us and the Yanks.’

  Tanner smiled. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said. ‘We really are going to beat them, aren’t we?’

  ‘Maybe this time, yes. Apparently Monty’s saying the race to Tunis is now on. Last one there’s a rotten egg.’

  They laughed. Tanner took out a cigarette, strolled over to a rock that was jutting out amid the ochre soil and brush, sat down and looked out to sea. It twinkled peacefully in the evening sun.

  He’d been glad to get away from Cairo again. There was something rotten about the place, he had decided. Of course, it had been good to see Lucie, but after the battle the city had seemed so – what was the word? Decadent? Artificial? Slightly sinister, if he was honest. He’d never said to Vaughan what he’d realized about Maunsell and Bowlby – that Tanja had been set up. They’d known there was a good chance that Orca would kill her, which was why they’d done so little to protect her. Tanja had understood that too. There had been no plans for her – except to let Orca do away with her. Problem solved: Tanja would have been an awkward embarrassment. Maunsell had admitted as much. They had hoped to catch Orca in the act, but had failed – he’d arrived through the back of her apartment block without being spotted and had left the same way.

  Tanja. He wondered whether he hadn’t been a little in love with her himself. Such a tragedy, he thought, for all that she had done, and yet there was so much tragedy in this world. It seemed strange that he, with no family and no home, should continue to survive the war, when young men like Harry Rhodes-Morton, who had had all those things, should be cut down. The mood had been euphoric since the end of the battle and yet he knew that tens of thousands of families across the world would have been receiving telegrams telling them their son or husband or brother was wounded, or missing, or dead, a casualty of a battle that had been fought over a scrap of unremarkable desert in a land far, far away.

  Ah, well. It didn’t pay to brood. Cairo, Alamein – Egypt. That was now in the past. The tide had turned, it seemed, but the war wasn’t over yet. Not by a long way.

  Glossary

  A and S

  Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders

  AOC

  Air Officer Commanding

  baksheesh

  change, money

  bundook

  rifle

  bawaeb

  doorkeeper

  bint

  woman

  blue, the

  slang term for the desert

  CIGS

  Chief of the Imperial General Staff

  COS

  Chief of Staff

  CQM

  Camp Quarter Master

  dahabiya

  houseboat

  DAF

  Desert Air Force

  dekko

  have a look

  DMI

  Director of Military Intelligence

  DMO

  Director of Military Operations

  effiyeh

  cotton scarf, usually wrapped around head

  feloose

  money

  FOO

  Forward Observation Officer

  GC and CS

  Government Code and Cypher School

  G(R)

  branch of the DMO’s office dealing with raiding parties, e.g. SAS, LRDG

  GS

  General Service, or General Staff

  GSO(I)

  General Staff Officer (Intelligence)

  HE

  High Explosive

  iggery

  hurry up, get a move on

  intel

  intelligence

  IO

  Intelligence Officer

  ISLD

  Inter-Services Liaison Department

  ISOS

  Intelligence Service Oliver Strachey

  KRRC

  King’s Royal Rifle Corps

  LRDG

  Long Range Desert Group

  LOC

  Lines of Communication

  MEIC

  Middle East Intelligence Centre

  MID

  Mentioned in Despatches

  MO4

  Military Operations, Department 4

  M/T

  motor transport

  MTB

  Motor Torpedo Boat

  musquois

  bad

  OC

  Officer Commanding

  OP

  Observation Post

  QA

  Queen Alexandra (Imperial Military Nursing Service)

  RAMC

  Royal Army Medical Corps

  RASC

  Royal Army Service Corps

  RAP

  Regimental Aid Post

  2 RB

  2nd Battalion, Rifle Brigade

  SAS

  Special Air Service

  Schmeisser

  British term for an MP38 or MP40 sub-machine gun

  SIME

  Secret Intelligence Middle East

  sitrep

  situation report

  SOE

  Special Operations Executive

  Spandau

  British term for German machine-gun

  suffragi

  waiter, servant

  Wafd

  British-backed Egyptian Government

  W/T

  wireless telegraphy (radio)

  Historical Note

  Most of the book is set around a framework of real historical events. At the beginning of August 1942, the North African campaign really did hang in the balance. The British Eighth Army had suffered a catastrophic defeat at Gazala and Tobruk, had been pushed back all the way to the Alamein Line, and Rommel appeared to be knocking on the door of the entire Middle East. In Cairo there had been panic, with thousands of documents being burned at GHQ in what became known as ‘the Flap’.

  What neither side appreciated at the time was that that was a battle too far for Rommel, whose dramatic victory at Tobruk had made him somewhat lose his head. The vast lines of supply he now faced were crippling, while, of course, the British could now bring all the supplies they needed, and more, almost straight from their backyard.

  There was, however, a crisis of leadership, and despite General Auchinleck’s undoubted abilities, it had been the right decision by Churchill and General Brooke, the Chief of the Imperial General Staff, to remove him. The Auk, as he was known, had earlier sacked Ritchie as Eighth Army commander and taken over the role himself, as well as maintaining his position as Commander-in-Chief, Middle East. It w
as too much and there was little doubt that some fresh energy and new faces were needed. Whether General Gott would have been as successful as Montgomery proved to be at the battles of Alam Halfa and El Alamein, will never be known, because he was killed in much the way described.

  The facts of his death have only recently come to light. For more than sixty years the original news blackout on the incident was largely maintained. A few years ago, I had several long conversations with Hugh ‘Jimmy’ James, the pilot of the Bristol Bombay in which Gott was killed. He had finally tracked down the leader of the six Me 109s who had shot the aircraft down. The British ‘official’ story was that two Messerschmitts had happened by chance to be overhead at the time so had shot the aircraft down, but Jimmy had always known there had been six aircraft and that they not only shot out both engines but returned and shot up the Bombay again, once it was on the ground. Herr Claude, the German pilot, also told Jimmy that when they touched down again a short while later, they were met by a senior officer who said, ‘Congratulations. You have just killed the new commander of the British Eighth Army.’ At the time, Jimmy had still been struggling across the desert to get help. The British did not know then that General Gott was already dead. So, it must have been an assassination.

  However, loose radio security would almost certainly have been to blame, rather than an enemy spy circuit operating in Cairo. The Egyptian General Pasha El Masri was real enough, as was the agitation in May 1941. It is also true that various Axis legations were operating in Cairo until closed down after the El Masri affair, including the Romanian Legation. The Muslim Brotherhood and the Ring of Iron were also both very real anti-British movements. It is therefore not at all implausible that an Axis spy circuit could have been set up at that time, and it is also true that the most successful intelligence operations were those whose information could work hand-in-hand with another source. The British had decrypted many German coded messages in what became known as Ultra; but if Ultra warned of an Axis supply convoy crossing the Mediterranean, then reconnaissance aircraft would always be sent over too. Secretly obtained intelligence is no use if the enemy then discovers that it is being leaked.