He turned eagerly as they came into the room. ‘Doctor!’ he said. ‘I’m very –’ He broke off in some confusion, clearly not seeing the man he was expecting to meet.
The Doctor recognised him at once. It was Carstairs, an older version of the keen young Lieutenant he’d first met during the War Games. Now, the man was looking at Churchill in some puzzlement.
‘I’m sorry, sir, I must have misunderstood you. Your message said you wanted me to come down and meet Doctor Smith, so I naturally assumed…’
Churchill looked puzzled. ‘What?’
‘Well, that it was the Doctor Smith, sir. The one who helped us to foil your would-be kidnappers in 1915.’
‘Good heavens, no! This Doctor is the son of an old friend of mine. His father and I were fellow prisoners of the Boers. This, quite evidently, is not the same man!’ Churchill turned to make the introductions.
‘Doctor, this is my old friend Colonel Carstairs, of Military Intelligence. Colonel Carstairs, this is Doctor John Smith, and his associate Mr Dekker.’
They all shook hands.
‘Colonel, eh?’ said the Doctor. ‘Splendid. Well deserved, I’m sure.’
Churchill went over to a well-loaded drinks trolley.
‘Now then, gentlemen… Carstairs, you’re catered for, but Doctor, Mr Dekker… Whisky, brandy, gin? I can offer you an excellent claret… Or shall we go directly to the champagne?’ Without waiting for an answer, he took the bottle from the ice bucket, popped the cork with casual expertise, poured four foaming glasses and handed them round.
‘Confusion to our enemies – and especially to those currently trudging dejectedly back to London!’
They drank the toast, although Carstairs was clearly baffled. Churchill gave him a highly-coloured account of the Doctor and Dekker’s heroic victory.
‘They’re getting very bold,’ said Carstairs angrily. ‘Carloads of armed thugs on English soil? Anyone would think they had occupied us already.’
‘Our enemies grow over-confident,’ growled Churchill. ‘They know they have powerful friends. Still, they have been defeated and for the moment at least we can rejoice.’ He poured more champagne. ‘Be seated, gentlemen,’ he boomed, and they all sat down.
‘Perhaps I should explain, Doctor,’ Churchill went on, ‘that Colonel Carstairs is one of a number of unofficial advisers, who supply me with vital information – information that concerns the security of this country.’
The Doctor nodded, wondering what his part was in all this. What did Churchill want from him?
‘I am, as you know, out of office and out of favour,’ Churchill said. ‘The Prime Minister is determined to keep me out of the Cabinet. Recently, the post of Minister of Defence was denied me. I must work from the sidelines, and unofficially. Nevertheless, I have gathered about me a group of those who are concerned with England’s fate.’ He paused. ‘I feel we are at a time of crisis, Doctor.’
‘What kind of crisis?’
‘We currently face the menace of Nazi Germany,’ began Churchill. ‘All my sources tell me they are steadily rearming, particularly in the field of air power. Hitler has already defied the Versailles treaty by reoccupying the Rhineland. I am convinced he aims to conquer Czechoslovakia, Poland – and, in time, all Europe.’
And indeed he will, reflected the Doctor, suddenly uncomfortable in the knowledge.
‘Unfortunately, my warnings go unheeded,’ Churchill went on. ‘The policy of this government is to appease Herr Hitler, by handing to him whatever he wants.’
‘It will never work,’ said the Doctor. ‘Hitler will never be satisfied.’
‘Precisely so, Doctor.’ Churchill paused. ‘And this madman offers us an alliance. He wishes us to ally with him, to become part of his evil schemes. I am ashamed to say that there are many in England who wish to accept this shameful offer.’
‘I take it you believe there exists some kind of conspiracy of Nazi sympathisers?’ asked the Doctor. ‘And that perhaps they are planning some kind of action?’
‘As to their plans, I cannot yet be sure,’ rumbled Churchill. ‘But in parliament, in public life, in society and amongst the aristocracy, there are many who support closer ties with Nazi Germany.’
‘Including the King,’ said Carstairs.
Churchill nodded his agreement. ‘Tragically, he too is among them. His emotional problems make him particularly vulnerable at this time.’
‘And Wallis Simpson is a close friend of von Ribbentrop,’ said Carstairs. ‘MI5 have been watching her for some time. According to their reports she spends occasional nights at the German Embassy.’
‘All very interesting, but what has it got to do with me?’ asked the Doctor, pointedly. ‘Why am I here?’
Winston Churchill looked keenly at him. ‘Recent events confirm my opinion that you are involved with these occurrences, Doctor. Is there anything, anything at all you know about all this? If so, I beg you to disclose it.’
The Doctor considered for a moment. ‘I believe you’re right about the conspiracy,’ he said at last. ‘Moreover, I think it may go back further than you realise – and that it is directed, at least in part, against you.’
‘Against me?’ Churchill laughed. ‘You exaggerate my importance, Doctor.’
‘Do I? I think the only reason I was attacked today was in an attempt to prevent my talking to you.’
‘Go on.’
Again the Doctor paused, choosing his words very carefully. How could he tell Winston Churchill that he was one of the hinges upon which history turned? Unless the British defied Hitler, and, eventually, with American help, defeated Germany, Europe would descend into an age of darkness.
And that England would not, could not, stand up against Hitler without Churchill’s future leadership.
‘My father was convinced that someone was trying to assassinate you, even before you were captured by the Boers,’ the Doctor said. ‘Is it so very hard to believe that the assassination attempt at the palace garden party was directed not at the King but at you?’
Churchill looked at him in amazement. ‘Doctor, you postulate a conspiracy stretching back thirty-seven years!’
Unexpectedly, Dekker joined in the conversation. ‘There’s an organisation, a conspiracy if you like, back in the States,’ he said. ‘Got a lot of different names – the Camorra, the Black Hand, the Mafia. Came over to America with the immigrants. Started in Sicily hundreds of years ago, still going strong today.’
‘I take your point, sir,’ said Churchill. ‘Men die – but organisations can be immortal! Pray continue, Doctor.’
‘I think the people who tried to kill you and to kidnap you are still operating today. I think they’re manipulating the Germans, using them as tools, just as they did in 1915. But as for who they are and what their agenda is, I simply don’t know. I may have a better idea when I’ve talked to my ward.’
‘How so?’
The Doctor steepled his fingers. ‘Miss Brown is having lunch with Wallis Simpson today. I imagine they’ll try to get information out of her. But Peri’s no fool. She won’t give anything away, and she may well learn something.’
Churchill rose.
‘These are deep waters, Doctor. Let us discuss matters further over lunch. Gentlemen, a cold collation awaits us in the dining room…’
Peri awoke to find herself leaning back on soft leather upholstery. Her head was throbbing and there seemed to be a sore spot behind her ear. She touched it and winced.
The air was filled with a mixture of exotic smells; there was leather, new car, and some very expensive cologne.
She opened her eyes and realised that the cologne belonged to von Ribbentrop, who was sitting next to her.
‘Feeling better, Miss Brown?’ he inquired solicitously.
‘I’d imagined how much fun it would be to ride in your car, Herr von Ribbentrop,’ she said. ‘But I had hoped to be conscious at the time.’
‘Believe me, Miss Brown, nobody regrets the necessity
for this unpleasantness more than I do. But you would insist on struggling.’
‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’ said Peri.
She remembered the brief scuffle in Wallis Simpson’s drawing room. She’d grabbed a Chinese vase – a priceless one, she hoped – and chucked it at one of the two advancing SS men. She’d missed and it had smashed against the wall. One of the SS men had grabbed her wrists and she’d kicked him hard on the shins, but the other one had slipped round behind her and tapped her behind the ear with something hard.
She touched the sore place again and winced.
‘You will not feel the ill effects of the blow for long,’ said von Ribbentrop. ‘Sergeant Schultz is an expert.’
‘I’m so glad,’ said Peri. ‘I’d hate to think I’d been knocked out by some clumsy amateur.’
‘You joke, but it is a serious matter,’ said von Ribbentrop reprovingly. ‘Too much force can result in coma or even death. The subject becomes useless.’
‘What I want to know is why do it at all?’ demanded Peri. ‘I suppose you must have felt rejected when I didn’t want a ride in your nice new car, but aren’t you over-reacting a bit?’
‘I assure you, Miss Brown, my motives are not personal but professional. You know very well why you have been taken into custody.’
‘I do?’
‘Of course you do,’ said von Ribbentrop. ‘You have been arrested because you are an enemy of the Reich. I am reliably informed, by my friends the Count and Countess, that you, Miss Brown, are an agent of the American Secret service!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KIDNAP
THE DOCTOR, CHURCHILL, Dekker and Carstairs had discussed their concerns over a simple but excellent lunch – cold roast beef and salad with apple pie and cream to follow – washed down with several bottles of Churchill’s ‘respectable claret’.
Now they were back in the study with coffee, brandy and, for Churchill, another cigar. But for all their talking, nothing new had emerged, and the Doctor was beginning to feel that they were going round in circles.
They were discussing the King now, and the crisis caused by his determination to marry Wallis Simpson.
‘They say he spoke of her to Baldwin as “my future wife”,’ said Carstairs. ‘Nearly gave the old boy a fit. He’s been lavishing expensive gifts upon her as well, white fox furs, jewels worth thousands of pounds…’
‘Some of them the property of the Crown, and not his to give,’ said Churchill gloomily. ‘The boy is besotted, and Baldwin is handling him badly. He should leave His Majesty alone and untroubled for a time, allow him to reflect upon the situation.’
‘Do you think that would work, sir?’ asked Carstairs, doubtfully.
‘I know that badgering by bishops and prime ministers will not,’ stated Churchill.
‘But surely the King must be recalled to a sense of his duty,’ argued Carstairs.
‘Duty?’ growled Churchill. ‘He has no sense of duty! David has been spoiled since childhood. He was adored by the entire country when he was Prince of Wales. He has always had everything he wanted, the moment he asked for it.’
‘So why not Wallis Simpson – especially now that he’s King?’ suggested the Doctor.
‘Exactly so. And he will not respond to bullying. He has all the obstinacy of the weak. The more he is pressured to give the woman up, the more he will insist on marrying her. They will drive him to it!’
Carstairs was horrified. ‘But – Queen Wallis, sir?’
‘Never!’ said Churchill. ‘There lies our dilemma.’
‘You know,’ said the Doctor thoughtfully, ‘I have a feeling that the King is the key to this whole business…’
They heard the ringing of a telephone from the hall, and Churchill went to answer it. After a moment he returned.
‘It appears that the call is for you, Doctor!’
The Doctor rose. ‘That’s odd. Who would know I was here?’
Churchill shrugged. ‘The instrument is on the table in the hall.’
The Doctor went out into the hall and picked up the telephone. ‘Yes?’
‘You would do well to leave Chartwell at once, Doctor,’ said a strangely familiar voice. ‘Do not return, have no further dealings with Winston Churchill, and cease meddling with matters that do not concern you. Return to London and make arrangements to leave for South America immediately.’
The Doctor looked at the receiver in outrage. ‘And why exactly should I do any of those things?’ he stormed.
‘Unless you do all of them, Doctor, you will never see Miss Brown alive again. Obey my instructions and she will be released, unharmed, in time to join you upon your departure from these shores. You will find the climate so much healthier in South America, Doctor!’
There was a click as whoever was at the other end of the line put down the phone.
The Doctor replaced the telephone receiver and strode back into the study. ‘We must leave at once, I’m afraid,’ he told Dekker. ‘Something’s happened to Peri. I rather fear she’s been kidnapped.’
Winston Churchill jumped up. ‘Kidnapped?’
The Doctor gave them a brief version of the unknown caller’s message.
‘We must summon the police,’ said Churchill. ‘If you wish, I will make the call for you, Doctor.’
‘I’ll get on to MI5,’ said Carstairs. ‘And the Special Branch –’
‘No!’ said Dekker.
Churchill glared at him. ‘I beg your pardon, sir?’
‘Thanks but no thanks,’ said Dekker. ‘Doctor, we’ll handle this ourselves.’
‘Yes… you could be right,’ murmured the Doctor.
‘Damn right,’ said Dekker firmly, turning to Carstairs and Churchill. ‘If we need any help later we’ll get in touch. If you two gentlemen would give the Doctor your telephone numbers?’
‘I am not sure that this course of action is wise, Doctor,’ rumbled Churchill, handing the Doctor his card while Carstairs did the same. ‘Colonel Carstairs and I are prepared to mobilise all the resources of the state to assist you. With all due respect to Mr Dekker and his undoubted abilities…’
The Doctor glanced briefly at Dekker, then turned to Churchill.
‘Thank you for your offers of help, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘As Mr Dekker says, we’ll call upon you if we need you.’
Minutes later the Doctor and Dekker were on the way back to London.
‘You’ve done right, Doctor,’ said Dekker. ‘A lot of cops and secret service guys rushing around isn’t going to achieve anything. Even if they get close, there’s a risk they’ll panic the kidnappers – and kidnappers tend to destroy the evidence!’
‘We have to find her,’ stated the Doctor, his fury rising. ‘Of all the despicable, deplorable –’
‘Pipe down and let me drive, will you please, Doctor? It’s hard enough having to keep this heap on the wrong side of the road, without you yelling in my ear!’
The Doctor subsided fuming onto his seat and Dekker drove the Rolls along the narrow lanes towards London.
After a while the Doctor muttered, ‘Can’t we go any faster?’
‘No,’ said Dekker.
The man drove, the Doctor noticed with reluctant admiration, exactly as fast as was safe and no faster. All the same, the Doctor was close to exploding when they drew up outside the house in Hill Street. As always, Rye the butler came out to greet them.
The Doctor leaped from the car and bounded up the steps. ‘Have you seen or heard from Miss Brown?’
‘No, sir. She went out for her luncheon engagement in a taxi this morning and has not yet returned.’
The Doctor turned back to Dekker, who was standing on the pavement looking up and down the street.
‘She’s not going to come wandering along the pavement you know!’ thundered the Doctor.
Ignoring him, Dekker turned up his trenchcoat collar and scratched his nose. A tubby little man in a shabby grey suit appeared, apparently from nowhere, and he and Dekker had a brief,
low-voiced conversation. The little man turned and was soon gone again.
‘What was all that about?’ demanded the Doctor.
‘17 Carlton House Terrace,’ said Dekker.
‘What?’
‘That’s where they took her. Temporary German Embassy. Apparently Ribby’s having the proper one gutted and redecorated by some Nazi architect guy called Speer, so they’ve hired this Carlton House Terrace place till it’s ready.’
The Doctor stared at him. ‘How can you –’ He stopped himself. ‘So simple. You had a man watching the house. This house. A man with a car.’
‘Told you I had an eye on her!’ Dekker allowed himself a small smile.
‘He followed Peri to Wallis Simpson’s flat?’
‘That’s right,’ said Dekker.
‘So, what happened?’
‘Miss Brown gets outta her taxi and goes in. Not long after that two more people arrive by taxi, an old guy and a classy-looking dame. They go in. Some time later, good old Ribby turns up in his monster, leaves it parked outside and he goes in.’
The Doctor took several deep breaths before inquiring sweetly, ‘And then?’
‘In the end, Ribby signals his driver, and him and another guy rush inside. A few minutes later they come out, with Miss Brown between them, looking kinda dazed. They all get in the big Merc and it drives off – to 17 Carlton House Terrace.’
‘Well, let’s go and get her!’ said the Doctor.
‘Take it easy, Doctor. We’ll go round and case the joint. Reconnoitre. If it looks like we can handle it, we get her out. If we can’t, we call your pals Churchill and Carstairs, and surround the place with the Household Cavalry.’
‘That might be a little difficult,’ said the Doctor.
‘How come? They said they’d help.’
‘And I’m sure they’d want to.’ The Doctor thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘But technically speaking, a foreign embassy, even a temporary one, is foreign soil. Sending troops into 17 Carlton House Terrace would be tantamount to invading Germany!’
‘So maybe we better handle it ourselves. You, me and the Op.’
‘Who?’
‘My operative. Name’s Jimmy, but everyone calls him the Op.’
Doctor Who: Players: 50th Anniversary Edition Page 17
