Where the Action Is

Chapter 16 - The Investigations of Supt George Richardson

The young people’s guess had been correct. Richardson was not very concerned over Alexis Mark Kane’s story. He questioned Alexis, who came ashore the next day from Radio Electra, but he did not seem to believe him. John Adams expressed worry, but Richardson told him ‘not to carry on so much, these people were untrustworthy, they were probably running scared from the smugglers, or else they were really giving up. John was really puzzled at his superior’s attitude. This was a strange one for a detective, who should investigate every strange thing there is, which might have bearing on the case.

However, John prevailed on Richardson so far, in that Richardson decided to send out a police launch to Radio Madeleine – which was still silent – with his Inspector, Jones, aboard, and some uniformed men. John or Ed he would not allow to go, not would he go himself. He was seen in conference with Jones before Jones set off to the shore to meet the launch, but he did not disclose what he had said to either of the Thelstone CID officers.

Meanwhile, on the fort, the radio staff had spent another night in fear. The boarders were making plans to get their victims out of the way before there was too much suspicion and with a good explanation to the public, which was of course necessary, because the newspapers had headlines about the close-down of Madeleine the next day.

Terry was forced to co-operate with the boarders – he had no option. He had no way of contacting the shore unless the boarders let him. They had set a guard on the radio-telephone and had removed the crystals from the station’s transmitter. The men had kept the crystals with them for some time, but during the night a small craft came out to the fort carrying some men, who came onto the radio station to take with members of the boarding party. The boarders gave the crystals to these confederates, who took them away with them on their boat. Noel Llewellyn was at a window at the time, and no-one was watching him. He saw the small boat driven off across the water – there was a moon, so he could see the boat for a certain distance. It was moving away towards White Sands Towers.

‘So,’ he thought, ‘they’re using those towers again, are they. I wonder why?’

He was soon to find out.

Noel had no chance of telling the others that night and in the morning the boarders had a conference, and Scott-Gibson already had what he thought was a good plan for fooling the police and the Radio Madeleine organisation as well. He would send Terry ashore, with two of the boarders, and something to tell the police, with papers (forged, obviously), ‘proving’ that he was taking his station to South Africa. But that, he would tell the police, was secret at present. Becoming bankrupt in England, he had applied for a licence to broadcast in a new African state, and had been accepted. He had told no-one in case it fell through, but now it had been accepted he was going at once, taking his staff with him.

‘Yes’ said Norman Clive, ‘but what about our relatives in England. Won’t they wonder where we are.’

Scott-Gibson leered, ‘Think we’re that stooped? They have all been informed ‘officially’ of where you are going. We took care to trace them all, and they have been told you will keep in touch.’

‘Won’t they suspect it’s funny?’ said Norman.

‘No, it was too well put for that. Oh, Regan, we’ve told your organisation ‘officially’ too. You only have to wind up and come back to us again.’

There was an interruption to the conference, a boarder came in. ‘A launch is coming out. I think it’s the cops!’

It was. The launch was the one Richardson had sent out. The boarders decided to conceal themselves, and Terry was to be the one to talk to the police. He was ‘briefed’, and then everyone waited for the launch to arrive, the captives in a kind of hope, the boarders hoping that their plans would not go astray.

The launch arrived at the foot of the Shore Tower. Jones called up to the fort with a megaphone: ‘Police! Can we come up?’

Terry called down with his megaphone that two of them could come up. The cage was lowered, and Jones and a PC came up. Once on the fort, Terry asked sharply what they wanted?

‘Is everything all right here?’ asked Jones.

‘Of course,’ replied Terry. ‘We’re leaving soon and we can look after ourselves without any fussing by the likes of you!’

Other questions were answered sharply, and when the PC said something to Jones about a search, Terry caught it.. Had they a warrant? he asked. When the reply was negative, Terry said that therefore they couldn’t search his fort. And if they did, they would find nothing. Finally, after being told that all was well, and that Terry woul come on shore soon, the police left and returned to the police station at Thelstone St Felix.

There, they reported to Richardson. Then the uniformed men were sent out, and Richardson saw Jones alone. Later Richardson saw John Adams. John asked him what he thought of this.

‘Well,’ said Richardson, ‘either they really are bankrupt, or they are the smugglers. I shall investigate the latter possibility, of course.’

‘But what if the smugglers have taken them over?’ asked John.

‘Impossible,’ came the reply, ‘I think that if the pirate station is not the suspect, then it is impossible to find the true culprits.’

John did not follow Richardson’s reasoning and told him so. But Richardson was adamant, and stuck to his views. So John went away and left him alone. He had no idea himself who the leader of the gang was. Neither, it seemed, had the two men now in jail. What was the answer, where was the end to this interminable business?

Richardson spent the rest of the day asking the most unlikely people the most unlikely questions. He had the entire staff of the inn at Dana, then he had Jack and Juliett, and anyone connected with them for questioning. His tame sergeant took pages of notes, but by the evening he had got precisely nowhere.

The next day, the tender was called out to Radio Madeleine, and when it returned, it brought with it Terry Regan, and two men, introduced at Maurice Benson and Ron Dell; two friends who had come out in a boat and had stayed while their boat had returned, in answer to questions from the sailors on the tender.

Terry said that he was going to wind up his organisation. Everyone would have their wages, he said when the sailors appeared downcast. But it was not the thought of losing money which upset the seaman. They had grown to love the radio station and all their friends, and hated the thought of losing them. They were happy that at least they would have one more trip; to take Terry and his friends out to the fort again. That would be all. The radio staff had another ship to use to leave the fort for the last time. No other explanation was forthcoming, so no more questions were asked.

Once on shore Terry and the two men went to the offices at Thelstone. The office staff looked surprised and confused. They asked Terry a lot of bewildered questions. They had received a message from him, sent by telegraph from the radio-phone on the fort, but could he please explain? Terry gave them the explanation that he had been told to give, with a nervous glance at the two men who had come with him. Terry said that these two men were representatives of the new South African state, which he said was Rabasa. They were in fact white Africans of the fourth generation, well respected in Rabasa, he said.

After his story was told, the staff still seemed mystified, and one secretary asked him if he had official documents. The smugglers had thought of this, and truly convincing documents were produced. Terry had wondered at this, supposing that even well-forged documents were not sufficient proof. In a brave moment, he had asked the leering Scott-Gibson how he hoped to success at this. Surely the Rabasan Government would be asked if they had bought up an English impendent radio station. This would be the first thing the police would do, surely. Scott-Gibson had replied strangely, ‘They won’t. They’ll be convinced. We can be sure of that.’

But Terry had no time to think about that now. He had unpleasant work to do. He had no choice; his captors had made sure of that. Terry Regan was no coward. Offshore radio has no place for cowards. Terry would have willingly disobeyed Scott Gibson’s orders if his life were the only one at stake. But it wasn’t, because he had been warned that if he put a foot wrong all his staff on the fort would die, as well as he. So he set about winding-up business. Each advertiser had to be contacted and told that his contract had run out earlier than expected. Naturally the advertisers were angry, but they were told that they would be paid back their money. Then the discotheque and other organisations were to be told, and much more too. It was a difficult job, but the two men with him seemed to know what to do, and by the time Superintendent Richardson came round with his tame note-taking sergeant the business was well under way.

Jones had been told the day before by Terry that Terry would be coming on shire, and he told Richardson. So after Richardson had spent some part of the day writing up reports on his findings and comparing notes with the Thelstone police – he disagreed with them however – he had decided to come out and interview Terry in his office.

Richardson’s questions were far from politely put. Terry thought him far from the ideal Scotland Yard office but he said nothing. Neither did he answer the questions in any other way than his captors told him.

‘Where are you going, and why?’ asked Richardson. Terry told the usual story. Richardson listened with a strange look on his face. When Terry had finished he asked: ‘Have you papers to prove this story of yours?’

One of Terry’s ‘guardians’ came forward.

‘I am from the State of Rabasa,’ he said, ‘and I have the papers here, if you’d like to see them, sire!’

‘Let me,’ said Ricardson.

He and the man went into a corner of the office and discussed privately. When they had finished Richardson came over. He looked pleased.

‘That seems all in order, Mr Regan. Good luck in your new home. But, don’t think that means I have stopped suspecting all your staff. Someone in your organisation or your rivals is the leader of that, y’know.’

With that, Richardson left, with his subordinate trailing after him. When the police had gone, the two men came over to Terry – they were alone in the office, the staff had been sent out.

‘Come on,’ they said, ‘we want this business over. Get on with!’

So Terry got back to his unpleasant task, helped by his secretary, Jo Devine, who was somewhat more convinced than he had been.

During this time, out on the fort, the crew and disc jockeys of Radio Madeleine waited anxiously for they knew no what. Now Terry was on shore, Jan Neilson was the senor there. He did his best to keep everyone calm, but the tension in the atmosphere could be felt. They were helpless, and they knew it, even though the number of invaders was reduced by two, leaving five.

Everyone was crowded into two rooms, the mess and the room next to it, which was a small room. In the mess were James Denis, Yale Ross, Sean Perry, Dirk Harvey and Norman Clive, playing a half-hearted game of Monopoly. Their hands shook so much they kept dropping the dice. Alec and Jack, two of the boarders, hovered in the background, still with guns. At a table in the other corner of the room were Alan Love, Adrian Leslie, Noel Llewellyn, Angus McDuncan, Jon Konrad and Jan Neilson. They had brought in a record-player, strangely allowed to do this by the boarders. Jon had some of his favourite Soul records on – loud. Below this music, the others were talking softly.

‘This is ridiculous,’ said Angus, ‘there are five of them, and eighteen of us. How come we are so helpless?’

‘Angus,’ said Jan Neilson, ‘you know we have no chance. They will show us no mercy. Even now they are planning to kill us. If we ‘behave’, as they say, we have a little longer to live – and place our escape.’

‘We have no hope, have we? You know it, I know it. How they can kill nearly twenty people and get away with it, I can’t see. But they can and they will!’ This was Alan, somewhat hysterical. Jan put a hand on his shoulder.

‘I know, Alan, we are all afraid. But there may be hope. Pray and trust someone’ll find us. It’s all we can do now. Think of it that way,’ said Jan.

‘I shall try,’ said Alan with a weak smile.

In the room next door, there were Marc de Ver, Orson, Chuck, Jacky Della Faro, Marty and Johann the cook, Robin Scott-Gibson and the remaining three of his gang. The boarders went into the corner of the room, keeping an eye on the others, who were playing cards and games like that. They began to speak low, but the crew of Madeleine heard them, slightly. And what they overheard was horrible. They were discussing how to kill them!

Johann suppressed a shudder of fear and revulsion and tried to listen. One man had said something about shooting them. Scott-Gibson said: ‘Too noisy, and it can be messy. Besides, if they are found, even years later, they will cause suspicion, and there will be an investigation which might prove dangerous. Skulls with bullet holes are always suspicious.

‘But how, then?’ asked one of the two beside him.

‘The leader sent us these on the boat the other night,’ said Scott-Gibson, opening a parcel. The pirates across the other side of the room dare to look, cautiously, to see what it was. He seemed to have two long daggers of narrow wire, like elongated screwdrivers. Johann uttered a soft exclamation and hid his face in his hands. He knew now that they would not spared. Curiosity caused him to listen to what Scott-Gibson was saying.

‘….. no trace to speak of,’ said the smuggler’s leader. ‘Not much blood either. One of these in the heart and it’s done - they are poisoned.’

Another man asked something which Johan did not catch. Scott-Gibson’s answer contained something about ‘instantaneous’,,, and ‘simple’, and ‘we don’t want too much mess.’

Johann could listen no longer, and he looked at the others to see if they had heard too. From the fear and horror in their faces he saw that they had. They could say nothing to each other, for fear of being heard, and also because the horror of it struck them dumb. With the cold hand of fear at their hearts they tried to return to their games. They weren’t very successful at trying to dispel the thoughts that what they had overheard had aroused.

Then Johann got up and went next door, nonchalantly watched by a boarder. He came over to the group by the blaring record player, and told Jan Neilson softly what he had overheard.

The Captain gasped. ‘So they will get rid of us after all. I hope they do it quick!’

Jan Neilson was white with horror, which he tried to suppress. He took Johann aside.

‘Listen, Johann,’ he whispered in Dutch, with one eye on the men across the room. ‘I’d rather you didn’t spread this yet. Alan Love is half-hysterical already, I know it’s hard to keep this dark, but can you for a while?’

‘I suppose we can. But it’s so awful!’

‘I know, but there’s hope yet. They won’t do anything till Terry Regan comes back. Try to keep calm. Tell the others that.’

Johann returned to the others and told them what Jan had said. And they tried to return to their game.

In the old inn, Juliett and the Irvings, more particularly Jack and Juliett, were anxious for the safety of their friends on the radio station. They tried listening to other stations, and finally settled on Radio London, their second favourite, but somehow it didn’t sound the same.

One of the London DJs even mentioned Madeleine by name, saying he wondered what was going on, and he wondered why the authorities did not investigate.

Jack and Juliett heard him, the day after the closedown, and it upset them more than ever. Jack found herself seeing Alan again in the cave, bound and senseless, and she felt sick. If they could do that to him once, why not again? Juliett worried about Adrian. She loved him, and he might be dead! She could not bear the radio any longer after that announcement; anything that reminded her of it tormented her. Involuntarily she moved the needle to the BBC, who would be sure not to mention it. At last Jack and Juliett went to help Mrs Blundell, who did the dusting for the innkeeper’s wife. Max and Impie were playing in the large garden. They tried not to think of the danger their friends could be (and in fact were) in.

Richardson went to the inn after he had seen Terry Regan, and asked very impertinent questions of nearly everyone, as usual. He got nowhere, even if he had intended to get anywhere in any case. Jack and Juliett discussed him after he had left. They both agreed he was hard, sulky and unkind. Or perhaps they felt that way because they were afraid for their friends on the fort.

Go to Chapter 17