13. Into Position

Uberlandia, Brazil – on a small commission for the regional government, hydro electric. Daddy hoping to get away early to the Upper Parana in Paraguay to see the orquideas San Rafael flowering and do some sketching. May sit it out here. Jolly people and club! Meu amado, do seu gatinho. 

(28g50t24dgp Cordoba)

Slipper led and Bagpuize followed as they skirted round the work site and burrowed into a small wooded area. Bagpuize was impressed by how sure footed and soundless Slipper was in the misty darkness. Slipper stopped and pulled aside a curtain of matted ivy and vegetation to reveal a door of grey metal, pock marked with rust, in the side of an old brick built pill box. Slipper explained there was lighting inside but that they must continue to use only their pencil torches pointed at the ground as they did not want to risk giving away their presence or position, even though he had never seen any of the Canes operatives in this part of the subterranean complex.

The cold damp leaf mould smell of the wood was blown away by a rush of lukewarm air as Slipper wrenched open the door and it was replaced by a sweet stinging odour that put Bagpuize in mind of the public conveniences under the promenade in Brighton. They sped along a dusty corridor then down a spiral stone staircase. The metal handrail had sharp jaggedy bits of old flaky paint work so Bagpuize quickly learned to steady himself by running his hand against the brick wall above it. With each step down the temperature seemed to drop until they bottomed out in another long but this time winding passageway.

Bagpuize began to lose track here but it seemed they ran along several passages, each slightly broader then the last, until he realised they were now in a gallery looking down on what seemed to be a major tunnel or hanger wide enough to accommodate three or even four large vehicles abreast. Light was reflecting up from the far end and bouncing off the vaulted ceiling with the occasional clang and rattle of machinery against a constant back drop of a low humming engine.

On either side of the tunnel could be seen great recesses like railway arches, some boarded up, some bricked up and others open and shedding light. These were interspersed with doors or openings which presumably led to other passages or rooms. Inside the lighted recesses there could be seen lorries and vans and pantechnicons and racks of shelving from floor to ceiling packed with boxes and bits and pieces of machinery. A heady aroma of petrol and pear drops wafted up to them from the arches where vehicles were obviously being stripped down and resprayed. Outside one of these they spotted two of Canes’ drones, leaning against the wall smoking.

Slipper was still leading the way and keeping tight to the wall away from the rail overlooking the tunnel. Bagpuize was not so disorientated that he did not sense that the arches which were giving light were pretty much underneath the area where the show was shortly to commence. Slipper confirmed his suspicions and pointing in the opposite direction told him that his area of operations was down there but not a word of it to Officer Frankley.

Bagpuize counted off half a dozen arches before they descended via a metal fire-escape type staircase to the floor of the main tunnel. Here they paused and listened.

When Slipper was sure no one was about, they scurried like rats along the side wall of the great tunnel. He stopped to peer round the end of one of the narrower branch passageways before beckoning to Bagpuize to follow him down it. Thankfully all hands, with those two exceptions, appeared to be on deck as Slipper had predicted. They passed an office with an open door. Slipper nodded to indicate that was where he had phoned from the previous night. At about 20 yards in they came to a heavily reinforced steel door which Slipper opened in a jiffy with something that looked like half a coat-hanger revealing a sweaty but relieved DD looking a bit jaundiced bathed in the yellow light.

ooooo

Toddington and Matravers reconvened with Frankley. From their vantage point they observed a long dark limousine pull up alongside the stand. A burly man in a grey suit leapt out of the front passenger seat and opened the rear door to allow a short smartly dressed man descend. He looked as though he were out for a night at the theatre - dark coat, white silk scarf, shiny cane with silver boss, and patent leather shoes. He was attended by two, what they guessed were, secretaries. These, from their plain garb, were obviously not going to see the play.

Frankley swore under his breath, “I think that’s the minister. Ooh this could be more awkward than I imagined....”

He checked his watch. The dads were fussing around the fireworks. The arc lamps were clicking like cicadas. The VIPs had taken their seats on the stand - the minister, his acolytes, the Parks brothers, Baldock, his cronies and the spooks. Delamere and Knutsford were having a last drag behind the lorry which Frankley had been able to confirm was the one taken two nights ago with a cargo of cigarettes destined for the continent. Doubtless the boys were sampling its contents. Everything and everyone were in position. 

Norton Canes made his entrance materialising at the side of the stand and mounting the steps of a small rostrum in front of it as though he were Bruce Forsyth compering Sunday night at the London Palladium. There was even a ripple of applause to which he nodded appreciatively. He then proceeded to introduce and explain proceedings to the assembly – at least that was what Toddington, Frankley and Matravers imagined he was doing as all they could hear from their spot was a muffled whah-whah-whah from the Tannoy.

There was another ripple of applause. This time Canes did actually take a bow before taking his seat and giving the signal for the demonstration to commence.

As Delamere and Knutsford ground their smouldering cigarette butts under foot, climbed into the cab and started the engine, Frankley’s people slid unseen into place either side of the stand blocking the exits. All attention was focussed towards the proscenium.

As the vehicle lurched forward through the portal the arc lights illuminated – but slowly this time and, rather than exploding like a camera flash, they remained illuminated. The lorry jerked suddenly to a halt as Delamere, at the wheel, realised that the lift platform was not in place and they were heading towards a gaping black hole.

The technicians on each side of the portal who operated the lift and the mechanism for dropping the non-reflective gauze – the essential components of the deception - were in a frenzy not knowing what to do. As it dawned on them and their colleagues in the control area that they were completely exposed to the audience in the spotlight so to speak they all froze like some grotesque tableau or like the players in a Whitehall farce when their trousers fall down revealing red and white spotty shorts and they just stare out at the audience with mouths open.

It might not have been completely clear at that moment to the glitterati and the oiks on the stand that they were the objects of some dreadful dupery, but they could see quite clearly that they were definitely not looking at the portal of a secret transportation network. 

Before the realisation of what was happening fully dawned a man leapt forward from between two of the sheds surrounding the pitch. He was wearing a tan gabardine mac, belted at the waist, a grey fedora with a ticket in the band, and he was holding an enormous camera with a large flash bulb extension like a searchlight on the top of it. The bulb flashed twice, three times, as he captured images of all the night’s celebrities. There was no escape as Frankley’s boys had sealed of all exits to the stand and before anyone had drawn breath Frankley himself now stood on the rostrum in the exact spot where only a few moments ago Canes had addressed his intended victims.

ooooo

DD breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as he greeted his two friends. He had been testing out his ankle but was as yet unable to put any weight on it. He relayed that there had been only one brief attempt to open the cell door not long after Slipper had left but none since, suggesting that Slipper had been right about them being too preoccupied with the presentation to bother about him.

There was a little time to go before the curtain went up so Slipper urged them remove to another room leaving the cell door snagged. This should delay any discovery that the bird had flown and give them a start on any pursuers. Before leaving the room Bagpuize removed the bulb from the light so anyone looking through the peephole would not realise immediately that the package had been lifted. Frankley had warned them that some of Canes’s men might go to ground before his team could round everyone up.

Before moving DD, Bagpuize produced from his backpack some moulded splints made of some lightweight material which he proceeded to strap around DD’s injured ankle, binding them on with a sort of webbing material which stuck fast to itself by means of spikey bits on one side and a kind of mesh on the other.

“Something I‘ve been working on,” he responded to Slipper’s questioning look. “Saves all that tying and pinning of things.....this should support your ankle and protect it. We’re going to have to move quickly when the time comes.” He added by way of explanation.

Slipper and Bagpuize each took a side and, supporting DD between them, limped slowly across to the door. DD found that with Baggy’s splint he could now put a little weight on that leg. They propped him against the wall while Slipper opened the door and sloped down to the end of the passage to check that the coast was clear, returning moments later.

“There’s a small room beyond the office, close to the main tunnel. We can wait in there. If anyone comes to the office or the lock-in we can make good our escape ahead of them.”

You could not fault the boy’s optimism given how slowly they were moving with their wounded passenger.

ooooo

Frankley was addressing his captive audience advising them that they were being detained for questioning in connection with the disappearance of a number of consignments of spirits and tobacco products. He had been savvy enough to send a directive earlier via his station to brief the officers mounting the road blocks to the effect that they must not only prevent entry to the vicinity but also stop and hold anyone trying to leave. Thus he turned the tables on whoever it was higher up the food chain that was aiding and abetting the hoaxters.

It gave him considerable satisfaction to see the expressions of indignation and confusion on the faces of the squirming Baldock and the DICS. But even they could not match the looks of agony and indecision radiating from the minister and his aides. Should they try and pull rank or lay low and not draw attention to themselves hoping they might have a chance to slip away or that someone, anyone, might come to their rescue? The most senior DICS man tried to remonstrate with Frankley who simply placed a firm hand on the man’s chest and pushed him back into his seat telling him he would just have to wait for his turn to be interviewed. 

Oh how he wished he could share the moment, this unexpected pleasure, with DD. How he hoped his friend and protégé was safe. Then suddenly his mood changed and a feeling of cold abject horror washed over him. Norton Canes, who had been there in front of him just then as he was making his speech, was now nowhere to be seen.