by David Hockey
“Okay, dad,” said Bob. “Can you help me put up the aerial? I want it to run from my bedroom to the corner of the barn.”
“You want to do that now?”
“No, not now, I don’t have the wire yet. Nigel will give me some on Sunday.”
“All right.”
A bunch of flowers were in a vase on the sideboard when Jack arrived home on Friday.
“These are nice, mom. Did you buy them?”
“No, Mrs. Thorne gave them to me when I left. She picked them from her garden. That was kind of her. I think she’s happy I’m typing her husband’s book. Are you glad the week’s over?”
“I’m glad I’ll have two days without bending or digging or hoeing. That’s hard on my back. Here’s the money, mom. Are we going to have fish and chips again tonight?”
“Yes, if you like. Take some money from the pot and fetch them after washing your hands and face. We’ll have an easy evening; I think there’s a new story on the Home Service.”
Saturday afternoon Jack collected the owed ration coupons and money and delivered several bags of groceries for Mr. Stevens. Not one of the people who ordered round loaves seemed likely to be a collaborator and, with so many other bread suppliers, Jack gradually gave up hope of finding him that way. ‘We’ll have to rely on listening for his signals,’ he concluded.
Chapter Twelve. Sunday. August 11th.
Bob collected Jack at nine fifteen on Sunday and they arrived at Nigel’s home fifteen minutes later. Nigel and his dad were in the lounge waiting for them.
“Come in,” shouted Mr. Thorne, as they knocked on the front door. “We’re in here.”
“Hello, Mr. Thorne,” said Jack. “Hi Nigel.”
“Hi” said Mr. Thorne. “Sit down while we tell you what’s happened this week. You first, Nigel.”
“I’ve made two more wirelesses. Got the missing parts from Falmouth with dad on Wednesday. They work as well as the one you heard last weekend, we tried all of them Friday and Saturday evenings.”
“Did you hear any signals?” asked Bob.
“Yes, lots, every night, though only one was loud enough that it might have been sent from somewhere around here. You tell them about that dad, you heard it.”
“Okay. Nigel goes to bed between nine and ten each night and I’ve been listening most nights until around twelve. What I heard happened last night, at twelve o’clock. A burst of code came through. It was very short, probably only lasted ten or twenty seconds,. It was very strong and it spread a bit across several adjacent frequencies. It was very lucky I heard it although I was checking three different frequency bands at the time. Nigel had connected all three wirelesses to the same aerial and I had three headphones arranged on my head.”
“We did that Friday night too,” said Nigel.
“You knew which set received the signal?” asked Jack.
“Oh yes. It was in my right ear and I stopped moving the dial as soon as I heard it.”
“We’ve tuned all the sets to that frequency,” added Nigel. “It was so strong it must have been the spy’s signal. Dad said it could only have come from somewhere near by.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Thorne. “I think we should concentrate on that signal and try and find out where it was sent from. What do you think Jack, Bob? Does that make sense?”
“Yes, that must be the one to listen for,” said Jack.
“Yes, I agree,” said Bob.
“The problem for us now,” said Mr. Thorne, “is to detect the signals and locate their source. I suspect they will always be transmitted at midnight but we’ll have to listen at other times, just in case he signals at other times. Last night he could be telling them about the convoy that passed in the evening.”
“So we’ll listen on the one frequency. Perhaps he only signals on the hour.”
“It could be but don’t rely on that. Just be specially alert on the hour, especially at twelve o’clock.”
“I’ll have to get my alarm clock out,” said Bob.
“Me too,” said Jack.
“Dad will wake me,” said Nigel, “won’t you?”
“Yes, I will. Now, how about some biscuits and lemonade before we look at a map and decide how we’re going to find where the signal comes from.”
Ten minutes later they were huddled around a map of Mansworth, one that Mr. Thorne used when working at home. His house was already marked on the map with a red dot and they added two more dots, one at Jack’s house and one at Bob’s.
“It’s a pity we’re all more or less in line with each other. It’s harder to triangulate that way, I suppose,” said Mr. Thorne.
“There’s another way to do that, dad. The BBC finds people who don’t pay their wireless licence fee by using big coils of wire on top of vans for aerials. Loop aerials are directional. Maybe we could do the same.”
“Use a big coil?”
“Yes, that’s right. I could find out how big it should be to receive short wave signals, though it might not work, it wouldn’t be as sensitive as the long aerial I have now. I’ll do a bit of research. Perhaps the librarian can find books on direction finding.”
“I suppose we could put it on top of the car and drive around,” said Mr. Thorne.
“I don’t think we should do that,” said Jack. “If it was seen it would alert the spy and he wouldn’t signal.”
“Yes, that is, if he saw it.”
“Let me try making one,” said Nigel. “If it works we’ll decide how to use it.”
“I’ll have to go now,” said Bob. “Dad’s going to be busy this afternoon and I want him to help me put up my aerial. Do you have some wire I could use Nigel?”
“Yes, lots, and for you, Jack.”
“I don’t think I’ll get a good reception,” said Jack. “I don’t have a tree to fasten the wire to. I’ll have to borrow Mr. Symonds ladder and fasten it to the chimney, that is, if mom lets me do that. I’m not sure she will.
’Perhaps I could do it, said Mr. Thorne. “Put your wireless sets and the wire in my car and I’ll take them to your homes.”
Jack and Bob did that and then cycled home. Mr. Thorne went to Bob’s home first and met Mr. And Mrs. Forester. They already knew what Bob planned to do and were pleased to meet Nigel’s father. A few minutes later he drove Jack’s home and was welcomed by Mrs. Jones.
“Jack’s told me what he wants to do. I don’t think it’s safe climbing up to the chimney and don’t think he or you should do it. Can’t he just hang the aerial out of his bedroom window?”
“I don’t think it would receive much if he did that. Which is your window, Jack?”
“That one, there,” said Jack, pointing to the window next to Mr. and Mrs. Symonds house.
“I see. How long is Mr. Symonds’ ladder?”
“It just a little bit longer than the eavestrough’s height. He used to use the ladder to clean the troughs but he doesn’t do that now.”
“He’s seventy two,” said Mrs. Jones.
“Hmm, that’s an awkward length. It would be hard to climb from it onto the roof. I don’t think I should try to do that. Just a minute, I have an idea. I have some fishing rods. I think I could use one to put a loop of the aerial wire around one of the chimney pots. I’ll try that, if he’ll lend us the ladder.”
“I’m sure he will. I’ll go and ask him. You’d better come with me, Mr. Thorne.”
They knocked on Mr. Symonds’ door and after a minute or so Mrs. Symonds opened it.
“Why, hello Mary. I haven’t seen you since you started working. Would you like to come in?”
“No, Nancy. We’d like to borrow Tom’s ladder. This is Mr. Thorne. It’s his dad I work for.”
“Hello Mr. Thorne. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello Mrs. Symonds.”
“Tom,” she cried, “Tom, come here. Someone to see you.” She turned her head and said, “He’s pretty deaf now. You’ll have to shout.”
It took a while to let Mr. Symonds know why they
wanted to borrow the ladder but, once he understood, he said he’d help them fetch it.
“He’ll show you where it is,” said Mrs. Symonds. “You’ll have to carry it. He’d only fall down.”
Mr. Thorne and Jack carried the ladder to the front of the house and leaned it against the eavestrough.
“That should work. All right, I’ll go and get the fishing rods now. Take the wireless set and wire first, Jack. I won’t be long.”
An hour later a circle of wire hung around one of the chimney pots with one arm running down into Jack’s bedroom. Another wire, tightly attached to the tines of a metal fork pushed far into the ground, led into the same window and Jack was ready to listen.
He heard nothing on the frequency the tuning dial was set at.
“That’s what we expected,” said Mr. Thorne. “I don’t hear anything during the day. They’ll start in the evening. I hope this location works as well as ours does. I’ll see you next Sunday then.”
“Wont you stay for lunch, Mr. Thorne?”
“Oh, I’d like to but I’ll have to make Nigel’s lunch. Another time, if I may.”
Chapter Thirteen. Wednesday, August 14th.
Sunday evening, headphones tightly in place, Jack sat in his bedroom reading his Arthur Ransom’s story. He heard nothing. He guessed that he would have heard some signals if he turned the tuning dial but he dare not; it was only the local, strong transmission he sought. He told his mother about this when she tapped him on the shoulder at ten o’clock on her way to bed.
“There’s nothing, mom. Nothing. I’ll go to bed too, but I’ve set the alarm for eleven fifty. I don’t think you’ll hear it because I’ll keep it under the pillow.”
“Don’t stay up long when you wake up.”
“No, I won’t.”
“I’ve missed our evening together, Jack. Childrens’ Hour was very interesting.”
“Me too, mom. I hope all this listening pays off.”
“‘Night, Jack.”
“‘Night, mom.”
Jack woke as soon as the alarm sounded and he let it ring down as it was muffled under the pillow. Climbing out of bed he wrapped his dressing gown around him and put on the headphones. He listened, not bothering to read this time and went back to bed at twelve fifteen, having heard nothing.
It rained Monday morning and Jack worked in the greenhouse again, moving out to the gardens to cut and pack cauliflowers with Mr. Lindsey in the afternoon. He heard nothing that night, nor on Tuesday night. Wednesday afternoon, cycling home, he stopped at Bob’s place.
“Have you heard anything, Bob?”
“A few, faint signals, that’s all. Not a strong one.”
“When did you hear those? I haven’t heard anything.”
“On and off every evening. I suppose they’re coming from Europe.”
“Did you change frequencies?”
“No, they were just in the background and faded in and out.”
“If you could hear something and I can’t I think it’s because my aerial’s no good. I wonder how Nigel’s doing. I’d like to talk to him.”
“We could go after supper. I don’t start hearing things until nine or later.”
“Okay. Collect me when you’re ready.”
Nigel had heard the same faint sounds that Bob had heard. Mr. Thorne, listening from ten until after twelve had heard nothing besides the same faint signals.
“My wireless is no good without a better aerial,” said Jack. “What shall we do with it?”
“I suggest we give it to my dad,” said Mr. Thorne. “I’ve told him what we’re doing and he’s very interested. I think he’d like to help. I’ll call him and see what he says.”
Five minutes later Mr. Thorne announced that his dad was eager to help. “He’s a night bird,” he added, “and I expect he’ll stay up until one or later.”
“Good,” said Jack. “It’d be a shame not to use the set.”
“Better than good,” said Nigel. “Look where he lives,” and he fetched the map and pointed to a house near the coast. “With Grandpa listening we make a triangle that covers much of Mansworth. Oh, I’ve ordered a book about wireless directional finding. I hope it tells me how to make the right kind of aerial. With Grandpa and a loop aerial we’ll easily find him.”
“All right,” said Mr. Thorne. “I’ll collect your wireless and aerial tomorrow evening Jack. After six, if that’s okay.”
Jack thought they’d have to set up the ladder again when Mr. Thorne arrived but that was unnecessary. When putting it up he had fastened its end to form a circle and had hung that around the chimney pot; a careful pull from Jack’s bedroom brought the whole thing down.
“Oh, that’s good,” said Mrs. Jones. “I don’t like you climbing up there Mr. Thorne. It looked dangerous when you put it up.”
“Why don’t you call me Gerard, or Gerry, which is what my friends call me, Mrs. Jones. We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other while this is going on.”
“I will, if you call me Mary,” she replied.
“All right, Mary.”
“Stay for a cup of tea, Gerry?”
“Okay, thanks.” He stayed, drinking two cups and eating a slice of blackberry and apple pie that Mrs. Jones had made the day before.
“I’ll take the wireless to my dad after supper tomorrow, Jack, would you like to come along and help?”
“Yes, please.”
“Come to my place at six thirty and we’ll take it over and fix up the aerial. There’s a good tree that Nigel has climbed may times that’ll hold it.”
Nigel fastened the end of a long aerial wire to a short rope, climbed his grandfather’s tree and tied the rope near to the end of a branch. His father, leaning out of a bedroom window, then pulled the other end of the aerial until it was taunt and fixed it into place by wrapping it around the upright of a wooden floor lamp. Jack and Nigel ran across the lawn and entered the house through the conservatory.
“This way,” Nigel said, and headed up the stairs to the room where his dad and grandfather were. “Let’s see if the wireless works.”
He fastened the wire he had previously connected to a post buried into the ground next to the conservatory to the earth terminal of the wireless and the aerial wire then put on the headphones. “I can hear faint signals already,” he exclaimed. “It must be because you’re near the coast Grandpa. Here, you listen,” and he eased the headphones onto his grandfather’s head. “Can you hear them?”
“I can hear something, just faint dots and dashes. Morse code, I suppose. Is that how the spy sounds?”
“Not quite. His signal is much louder, the dots and dashes are very close together, too fast for anyone to decode them I think, and the signal only lasts for a little while. That’s how dad described them, right dad?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And you heard them at midnight?”
“Yes.”
“So I don’t have to listen until then?”
“I don’t know, Grandpa. He might signal at other times. Can you listen while you read?”
“I suppose so. Well, in that case, bring one of the easy chairs from my study and put it here,” he pointed to the floor, next to table that held the wireless set.
That they did then moved to the kitchen for a mug of hot chocolate and a couple of biscuits.
“Your mother is very helpful Jack,” said Nigel’s grandfather, “more than Gerry’s secretary,” and he looked at his son. “She can read my writing easily now and her typing is good, very few mistakes.”
“I’m sure Rosemary didn’t make any mistakes, dad, she finds your handwriting difficult to read. It must have been hard for Joyce when she was your secretary.”
“She never complained.”
“Dad,” said Mr. Thorne,. “We’ve been meeting at my house on Sunday mornings to compare notes. At nine thirty. Can you come?”
“Why not come here and you mother will make lunch for you and the boys, but don’t come until
ten.”
“All right dad. And Jack, bring your mother. I bet she’s as interested as everyone else in what we’re doing.”
“She is, and I tell her about it. She’d love to come but I don’t know what times the buses run on Sundays.”
“I’ll fetch her. Do you still eat at twelve thirty on Sunday’s dad?”
“Yes, we do.”
“Then tell your mother I’ll fetch her at twelve fifteen Jack.”
Chapter Fourteen. Sunday. August 19th.
Jack was eager to hear what signals had been heard so he cycled to Bob’s house at nine on Sunday morning. He found him feeding the pigs and they talked while watching them snort away the warm mash.
“Yes, I heard him last night. At twelve. It was just as Nigel’s dad described, a strong, short burst of fast code. I don’t know how he can transmit that fast. Nor how anyone could decode what he says.”
“I bet the others heard him too,” said Jack.
“Any luck on finding people who buy round loaves?”
“No. I’ve given up trying to find them, there’s too many that don’t order from Mr. Stevens. Tracking down the signal will be a much faster way to find the spy. Oh, we’re meeting at Nigel’s grandfather’s place today, at ten.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Did you tell your mom and dad you won’t be home for lunch?”
“Yes, and I also told them I heard a strong signal at twelve. They’ll be interested in finding out what the others heard.”
“I bet everybody that knows about what we’re doing will be interested but we’ll have to keep quiet and not tell anyone else. If the spy learns what we’re doing he’ll stop.”
“Yes. I’ll remind them to keep quiet about it. I’ll clean the buckets now. You can help if you like.”
Both Mr. Thorne’s had heard the signal. They tried to compare strengths but it was impossible. What was loud for one person might not be exactly as loud for the others.
