by Jim Eldridge
‘The NSDAP is the National Socialist German Workers Party. Despite their name – the Workers Party – they are opposed to all forms of Bolshevism. They’re also known as the Nazi Party, and they share many of the aims of the Ku Klux Klan that Agent Noble mentioned, in particular with relation to the Jews. Until five months ago their leader was a man called Anton Drexler, but in July he was replaced by a former soldier in the German army, a veteran of the trenches in the Great War, called Adolf Hitler.’ Churchill’s face darkened as he added, ‘For my money, this is where the real danger to this country comes from. If Hitler starts forming political alliances with right-wing parties in this country, and elsewhere in Europe, the danger is that we fall victim to foreign control, the control of this Hitler, and without a shot being fired.
‘If that happens, then every Jew in Europe is at risk. And not just the Jews. Every person who opposes them. I have no time for the Bolsheviks, but I am proud that we live in a democratic society where the voices of dissent can be aired. As you know, I, too, have been a dissenting voice in the past.’
Oh God, please don’t let this turn into a political speech, begged Stark silently. I really don’t have the time. ‘I know, Minister …’ began Stark, doing his best to interrupt as politely as he could. Churchill was famous for having a temper and could be a formidable opponent when baulked, and Stark needed him on his side.
To Stark’s surprise, Churchill stopped and gave the chief inspector a rueful smile. ‘Getting on my high horse again.’ His tone grew serious again as he said, ‘But that’s because I care about this country! Our society has been forged over a thousand years to get to where it is now, and I’m not going to let some upstart ruin it!’
‘These other organizations that Hitler might form pacts with, might they include the British Union of Patriots?’ asked Stark.
Churchill hesitated, then nodded. ‘Sadly, it might. I say “sadly” because the Union contains some very good people. People concerned about Britain who have joined the BUP with this country’s best interest at heart. Unfortunately, there are those within that organization who are more concerned with another agenda.’
‘Anti-Jewish?’
‘Anti all foreigners,’ said Churchill. ‘Anti trade unions. Interestingly, the Nazis claim they are also anti-capitalist, but my understanding is they are funded by some very serious German industrialists.’ He shot a steady look at Stark. ‘Are you suggesting that the BUP was behind Johnny Fairfax’s death?’
‘I don’t know, sir. There have been other instances of attacks on Jewish property that might be connected with them. And my sergeant, Sergeant Danvers …’
‘I remember Sergeant Danvers,’ nodded Churchill. ‘Good man. Brave.’ He looked at Stark again. ‘I read in the papers that he was attacked. Almost killed. Jewish thugs.’
‘Yes, sir; that was what one particular paper said, sir.’
‘The Target again,’ said Churchill. ‘Owned by Lord Glenavon. A leading member of the BUP.’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘Do I get the impression that you don’t think he was attacked by Jews?’
‘Sergeant Danvers is fairly sure he was attacked by men associated with the BUP.’
‘And then Glenavon blames the Jews for it in his rag,’ mused Churchill. ‘I have no time for Glenavon. And he has no time for me. Have you read some of the things he’s said about me in that so-called newspaper of his?’
‘No, sir,’ said Stark. ‘Until the attack on Sergeant Danvers, I’d never read the Target.’
‘Scurrilous lies and propaganda!’ snorted Churchill. ‘I often thought of suing, but then I thought, “Why give the bugger publicity? He’ll just sell more papers!”’ He snorted. ‘If I had my way, I’d close that rag down!’
‘But that would be against the idea of a democratic society where all voices and opinions can be aired,’ said Stark tactfully.
Churchill smiled. ‘Touché, Chief Inspector!’ He shook his head. ‘Lord Glenavon and the BUP. It’s an interesting thought, but my money’s still on Gallipoli as the underlying cause of these murders. Revenge, pure and simple. Don’t lose sight of that.’
‘I won’t, sir,’ promised Stark.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Danvers sat at the desk, going through the files, seeing what had been added during the short time he’d been off. There were DCI Stark’s notes of his interview with Herbert Jolly, but the boss had been careful not to include anything about possible police involvement. It was a delicate balancing act: putting down an accurate record of evidence and clues, but aware that these files could be seen by anybody in authority.
Who guards against the guards? It was a phrase Danvers remembered from his school days, a lesson about democracy in Roman times. Or was it Greek? It didn’t matter; the issue was about trusting those who policed a society, its protectors. What if those protectors had their own agenda, one against the interests of society? Danvers hadn’t taken much notice at the time; it was all just ancient history. But now, with what was happening with the BUP, the phrase took on a different dimension.
The telephone ringing jerked him back into the present. ‘DCI Stark’s office. DS Danvers speaking.’
‘Is DCI Stark there? It’s Superintendent Hammond from Finsbury Park.’
‘I’m afraid he’s not available, sir.’
‘When will he be?’
Danvers hesitated, then said, ‘I’m not sure. Sadly, his father passed away last night. He said he would be in later.’
There was a pause, then Hammond said, ‘I understand. I’d like to leave a message for him.’
‘Certainly, sir.’
‘Would you tell him that Mr Israel Rothstein is dead.’
‘Mr Rothstein?’
‘He’ll know what it means. He can call me about it later, when he gets in. And do pass on my condolences to him.’
‘I will. Thank you, Superintendent.’
Danvers hung up. Israel Rothstein. The man accused of a killing – an accusation that, according to the boss, had been dubious. Now Rothstein was dead. Danvers had wanted to ask about the circumstances – murder, accident, natural causes? – but he wasn’t sure if DCI Stark had promised Superintendent Hammond not to tell anyone about the case, and he didn’t want to put the chief inspector in a difficult situation.
He was about to return to the files and notes when there was a rap at the door and Agent Noble appeared.
‘Morning, Sergeant. Where’s DCI Stark?’
‘I’m afraid he may be in rather late today, sir. His father died last night.’
Noble stared at Danvers, stunned. ‘Died? How?’
‘Pneumonia, pleurisy and bronchitis.’
‘So he’d been ill for a while?’
‘Just a few days, I believe. It happened very quickly.’
‘But I had dinner with him the night before last and he didn’t say anything about his father being seriously ill.’
‘The DCI is a very private man, sir. He doesn’t confide in many people.’
‘But you knew?’
‘Only in case the hospital telephoned and DCI Stark wasn’t here.’
‘Damn! I usually spot when someone’s got a problem worrying them!’
‘As I said, sir, the DCI is a very private man. He keeps his emotions tightly wrapped.’
‘He sure does! How about you, Sergeant? How are you now, after the attack? Any after-effects?’
‘Not that I’ve noticed, sir, thank you.’
‘Good. Anyway, I’ve come in because—’
He was interrupted by the door opening and Stark coming in.
‘Good morning, Sergeant. Agent Noble.’ He looked at the clock which showed almost twelve. ‘Well, it is still morning, just.’
‘Paul!’ Noble strode towards Stark, his hand outstretched. ‘My condolences on your father’s passing.’
‘Thank you,’ said Stark, shaking Noble’s hand.
Stark felt uncomfortable. He disliked shows of emotions in public. Too often they were what a superi
ntendent of his had called ‘crocodile tears’. ‘Politicians do it all the time to try to show the voters they’ve got a heart,’ the super had said. ‘It’s fake.’
But he knew that Noble was being genuine. It was just that he found it hard to express his emotions openly. He guessed that was the result of his four years in the trenches. At first, there had been dreadful shock when a friend had been killed, especially when it happened right before his eyes. Then, as more and more died, it became something to shrug off. In the end, you just thanked God or Fate that it wasn’t you. If you didn’t, the grief would drive you insane.
He turned to Danvers. ‘Any messages?’
‘Superintendent Hammond at Finsbury Park just telephoned. He told me to tell you that Mr Rothstein had died. He said you’d know what that meant.’
‘Yes, I do,’ Stark scowled. He looked at Noble. ‘I’ll deal with this first, if that’s all right?’
‘Go ahead,’ said Noble.
Stark got through to Billy Hammond, and after receiving Hammond’s sympathies about Henry, heard what had happened to Israel Rothstein.
‘You saw what that rag, the Target, said about you?’
‘Yes,’ grunted Stark. ‘I have my suspicions about the source.’
‘So do I, and I’m looking into them,’ said Hammond. ‘After you came, I decided to release Rothstein on bail. Like you, I had my doubts about his guilt, and I didn’t think he’d do a runner while we carried on investigating the case.’
‘How did he die?’
‘He was stabbed early this morning in the street outside his factory. The word on the street is it was revenge for Harry Jukes. If so, Harry Jukes’ family had nothing to do with it. I’ve talked to them.’
‘You believe them?’
‘I do. I’ve known Harry and his family for years. He’s a local character. Everyone knew him, and liked him.’
‘All right, Billy. I get the picture.’
‘Like I said, what worries me now is this thing could explode. Riots. Vigilante attacks.’ He paused. ‘I can’t say too much now …’
‘I understand,’ said Stark. ‘Once I get a handle on what’s happening here, I’ll come and see you again. I think our two cases might be connected.’
‘How?’
‘It’s better we talk later.’
‘Understood,’ said Hammond. ‘Give me a ring and we’ll meet up somewhere.’
Stark hung up and filled in the enquiring Danvers and Noble on events at Finsbury Park, the killing of Harry Jukes and now the death of Israel Rothstein, and the suggestion that an anti-Semitic organization such as the BUP might have been involved.
‘Which brings us back to Cavendish and the Ku Klux Klan,’ he finished.
‘And that is where I come in,’ said Noble.
He reported on his encounter with Myrtle Evans at the American Embassy the previous day. ‘It’s another thing that points to Cavendish being involved in the murders,’ he finished.
‘But not enough evidence to bring him in,’ commented Stark.
‘No, which is why I’ve set a hare running.’ Noble told them about his ruse with his telegram to Hal Peters. ‘Myrtle will tip Cavendish off about it. I’m hoping it will spook Cavendish enough for him to do something rash.’
‘Like leave the country?’ suggested Stark.
‘Maybe,’ admitted Noble. ‘If he tries, maybe we can pick him up before he gets on the ship.’
‘On what evidence?’ asked Stark. ‘It’s still all just hearsay.’
‘It’ll be an admission of guilt.’
‘Not with a clever lawyer working for him. By the way, does the name Adolf Hitler mean anything to you?’
Noble frowned. ‘No. Should it? Who is he?’
‘He’s the leader of a political party in Germany called the NSDAP. Anti-Bolshevik, anti-Jewish. I wondered if the Bureau had anything on him.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Noble. ‘They might have, but it’s not in my area.’
‘I thought one of the reasons Carl Adams was here was to look into Cavendish’s associations with right-wing political parties in Europe?’
‘Yes, but only in so far as it affects America,’ said Noble. ‘To be frank, it’s only lately we’ve started to take an interest in what’s happening in Europe. After the Great War, the American public, and certainly our politicians, have preferred a policy of isolationism. There’s no appetite for us getting dragged into another European war like the last one. That’s one of the reasons we’re keeping tabs on Cavendish, to make sure he doesn’t pull us into whatever’s going on in Europe.’
‘What about you, Sergeant? Have you heard the name Adolf Hitler being mentioned by any of your social circle? Those associated with the BUP?’
Danvers shook his head. ‘The name means nothing to me, sir.’
‘Then I’ll go down to Records and see if they’ve got anything on him.’
‘You think he might be important?’
‘Winston Churchill seems to think so,’ said Stark. ‘Although he’s still of the opinion this case is about Gallipoli.’
‘While you check up on this Hitler guy, I’m off back to the embassy to see if there’s been any reaction from Cavendish to my wire. I’ll keep you informed.’
As the door closed on Noble, Danvers asked, ‘What do you want me to do, sir?’
‘Just hold the fort, Sergeant. And keep ploughing through what we’ve got to see if there’s any hard evidence we can use against Mr Cavendish if he does try to make an early return to the States.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Oh, there is one thing.’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘Just curiosity really. At the hospital they told me that you have a title. The Honourable Robert Danvers. But you never mentioned it on your application to join the police.’
Danvers looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s not really a title as such.’
‘It impressed the staff at Charing Cross Hospital.’
‘That was Lettie’s doing,’ said Danvers. ‘I think she told them in the hope I’d get better treatment.’
‘It worked,’ said Stark. ‘A private room. Visits outside of visiting hours.’
‘I don’t feel good about it, sir,’ said Danvers.
‘Why not?’ asked Stark.
‘As I said, sir, it’s not a proper title. It’s not earned, or anything. I’m the Honourable because my father was the second son of an Earl, so he’s the Honourable Deverill Robert Danvers, but he never uses it. He prefers Colonel. He says he earned that rank, whereas the Honourable bit was just handed to him. I feel the same. I worked hard to get the rank of detective sergeant. A title that’s just handed to you doesn’t have the same value as one you worked for.’
Stark smiled. ‘Careful, Sergeant, you’re starting to sound like one of Lady Amelia’s Bolsheviks.’
TWENTY-NINE
Records did have a file on Adolf Hitler, although it took the clerk in the basement office some time before he put the file on the counter in front of Stark. Stark was about to take the file back to his office, but the clerk put his hand firmly on it to prevent Stark removing it.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he said, ‘but there’s a yellow sticker on it.’
‘Which means?’
‘A yellow sticker means it has to stay here in the department to be examined.’
‘Why?’
The clerk shrugged. ‘I don’t know, sir. I just know those are the orders.’
‘And who determines whether a file has a yellow sticker?’
‘MI5, sir. The Directorate of Military Intelligence.’
More spies, thought Stark ruefully.
‘A yellow sticker also means there’s a limit to who can have access to it. Only DCIs and above.’
‘Then it’s lucky I didn’t send my sergeant down for it,’ observed Stark. ‘Thank you.’ He gestured to a chair at the other side of the room. ‘I shall be just there.’
‘Begging your pardon, sir, but a file with a yello
w sticker means it has to be signed for if it’s taken away from the counter.’
More red tape, thought Stark. ‘Very well. Give me the form.’
Stark wrote his name on the form the clerk gave him, then signed it. Let’s hope it’s worth all this palaver, he reflected as he took the file to the chair.
A grainy photograph of a man in his early thirties looked up at him, thin-faced with a small dark moustache. The military cap he wore and the insignia on his collar showed it was an army photograph.
Adolf Hitler. Born 20th April 1889 in Braunau am Inn in Austria-Hungary.
During the Great War: Volunteered for Bavarian Army. Served as despatch runner on the Western Front. Served at the First Battle of Ypres, and also at the Somme, Arras and Passchendaele. Received Iron Cross, Second Class, for bravery in 1914. Wounded at Somme in 1916. Received Iron Cross, First Class, in August 1918 on recommendation of his superior officer, Hugo Guttman.
Someone had added in a small handwritten note after this: ‘Hugo Guttman was Jewish.’ The file added that Hitler had been temporarily blinded in October 1918 in a mustard gas attack, before going on to detail his activities once the war ended.
1919: appointed intelligence agent of the Reichswehr to infiltrate and investigate the German Workers Party (DAP). Became influenced by the views of the DAP leader, Anton Drexler: nationalist, anti-Semitic, anti-Marxist, anti-capitalist. In 1920 the DAP changed its name to Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (National Socialist German Workers Party – NSDAP). In July 1921, Hitler replaced Drexler as leader of the NSDAP.
Hitler is at present banned from entering Britain by order of HM Government.
So Hitler and I were both at Passchendaele, on opposite sides, reflected Stark. The business about Hugo Guttman puzzled him. Guttman had recommended Hitler for the Iron Cross, First Class. Yet Guttman had been a Jew. When and why did Hitler become anti-Semitic? Was it purely because he came under the influence of this Anton Drexler?
Stark returned the file to the counter and asked the clerk if he had a file on Drexler. Once again, they went through the same procedure concerning yellow stickers, and a few moments later he was opening a much thinner manila folder with Drexler’s name on the cover. There was just one sheet of typed paper inside, with the barest of details.
