Sowerbutt's Web

“When the Ghost arrives in the village, we’ll be watching," Sowerbutt said. "We’ll flush him out, put some pressure on. Hopefully, the fly will be drawn into the spider’s web.”

“I like it, Jamie.” Rosetta looked petulantly at Sowerbutt. “But if you are going to be stand-offish, I shall make Tipper my bodyguard. He’s a handsome young man.”

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Sowerbutt's Woman

Handing Sowerbutt her empty glass, Rosetta smiled: “Your woman is jealous of us working together? I am attractive, no?” Sowerbutt lit a corona and chuckled: “We have work to do, Rosetta, a Ghost to catch. No time for pleasure.  Besides my woman, as you call her, would hang, draw and quarter me - slowly - if she thought I was playing away from home.”

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Sowerbutt's Friend

“We are together again, senor. We work together, we are a good team. You caught me last time, but I am difficult to handle,” Rosetta smiled, her eyes twinkling.

Rosetta and Sowerbutt were sitting alone in the comfortable upstairs lounge at Weybourne windmill.
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Sowerbutt's Find

“Leave no stone unturned, Brendan,” Churchill snapped. “The culprits must be brought to justice. What city will be safe from these secret signallers.” 

“We know two of our IRA friends had a transmitter in the Coventry area," Bracken said. "While our esteemed Watchers enjoyed their beauty sleep, Sorbay’s men tracked the Ghost in the direction of Coventry. He was carrying a heavy rucksack. They lost him but on his return to where he is holed up, his rucksack was empty.”

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Sowerbutt's Priority

Brendan Bracken shook his head. “Turning point in this war, Sorbay. If the Ghost has talked on the transmitter or passed it on to some IRA friend, our plans are shot and I’m not sure the country will survive. If you turn him, I will be shaking your hand in Berlin sooner rather than later. Whatever you need for this operation, no higher priority. I’m off to this manpower conference to enjoy Sir John Dill and Ernie Bevin, a toxic cocktail.”

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Sowerbutt's Rucksack

Sowerbutt smiled. “The Ghost was heading in the direction of Coventry, Mr Bracken. Nero slipped back to the cottage after losing him, the only reference point. The Ghost returned before dawn. We calculate he would have made Coventry and back. Or Rugby, possibly Nuneaton. More to the point, he carried a heavy weight in his rucksack on the way out - the transmitter. Nothing on the way back, the rucksack was flapping in the breeze.”

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Sowerbutt's Meeting

Sowerbutt nodded: “Nero followed the Ghost for three miles or so from the cottage. A south-east direction, along the farm roads, crossed the A5.” “What happened at three miles, Sorbay? He met someone? Not more IRA, please.” Bracken asked.

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Sowerbutt's Discovery

Sowerbutt enjoyed his conversations with the acerbic Brendan Bracken. Always cutting to the quick. “Nero spotted the Ghost, leaving the cottage during the night and followed him.”

“What,” shouted Bracken, swinging his legs off the desk. He brandished a handful of papers at Sowerbutt.

“Watchers’ reports, piles of them. According to them, he’s never left the cottage, been holed up for days." 
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Sowerbutt's Salute

“Grand building, Mr Bracken,” Sowerbutt smiled. “An Irish Guardsman saluting me on the way in. Very impressive for a simple Poplar lad.” He looked though the curtained windows at the tree-lined view along The Mall.

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Sowerbutt's Memory

“I don’t need cheering up, Dot,” Polly glared, her grey eyes flashing. “What I need is a man who does what he says he’ll do, who spends some time with me instead of gallivanting around.”

“He’s a good man, Polly, just gets forgetful when he’s busy.”

“Forgetful, forgetful. I’ll give him forgetful, Dot. I’ll give him a good slapping when I see him.”

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Sowerbutt's Promises

Polly threw a cushion at Dot. “Sorbay? Don’t mention that man’s name. Promises to improve his ways and keep in touch. Haven’t heard from him for days. Could be anywhere, at the North Pole for all I know. Hope he freezes.”

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Sowerbutt's Habits

Polly lit a Black Cat and offered the packet to Dot. “You’re leading me astray. I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of cigarettes I had before you turned up in Luton.”

Polly chuckled. “I’ve been a bad influence, haven’t I? How’s Jo-Jo? Looking after you properly?”

Dot smiled: “He’s a lovely man, Polly. Needs feeding and taking care of after being banged up for so long. He’s a straight shooter, that’s what I like.”

“Don’t go spoiling him, Dot. You know what men are like. Give him an inch and he’ll get bad habits like Sorbay.” 
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Sowerbutt's Team

John pressed on. “We’re waiting for the Ghost to make a move, sir. Then we’ll spring the trap. The timing depends when the U-boat is due, I’d say.”

Churchill puffed his cigar. “My Golden Geese at Bletchley tell me the Ghost’s cab is back in our waters, they intercepted a brief signal from U-99 last night. You will do your utmost to turn this Jerry. You have willing and able men at hand?”

The slight military man nodded: “Mr Sorbay has assembled a good team if I may say.”

Churchill smiled: “Quite so, quite so. A rogue, I like him.”

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Sowerbutt's Eyes

Churchill looked long and hard at the slight military man. He sighed: “Go on, dear boy. I know you are doing your best.”

“He’s back in the village or nearby, sir. He has been spotted.”

Churchill growled: “Mr Sorbay's men, I presume, not the Watchers. Good man, gets things done. I like him.”

“Yes sir. The Watchers didn’t notice him slip away from Lutterworth.”

Churchill exploded. “Don’t talk to me about these clumsy cloak and daggers.The Watchers, you call them? The Once Overs, I say. Spot the spy once and it’s over. Let us draft them into the Army and be done with them.”

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