Seven Rules by Dayle MacKenzie
Chapter Sixteen
Andy didn’t need persuading. He ran for all he was worth. A second later he and Archie dove into the car. Stephens stomped on the accelerator and the car roared off before they had even closed the doors.
A mile or so down the road Stephens slowed down and they began to relax a little.
“Who were they?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” said Archie. “Just some fuzzy... sorry some foreign chaps who I managed to upset with my usual charm.”
Stephens just nodded and drove on.
“You don’t look too concerned,” Andy said to Stephens.
Stephens smiled.
“Oh no Sir, I’ve had to perform similar duties for the master on many occasions. His ‘usual charm’ has had the same effect on a number of people.”
They drove on in the darkness for several more miles before Stephens turned into the grounds of the Spencer-Brown estate.
“Home sweet home,” Archie said as they pulled up in front of the cottage.
It was warm inside. Stephens ate dinner with them as they discussed the day’s events. Archie made no further mention of the men at the train station. It seemed a minor event to him. Andy on the other hand, was still shaken by it.
“How did you get on with the arrangements back here old chap?” Archie said as he poured a cup of tea.
“Very good, actually Sir. I have all the necessary maps and charts laid out in order of your proposed route. I also have your flying kit cleaned and ready to go. I’ve sent telegrams to your stopover points for aircraft servicing and your accommodation, but there is one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“The fuel company wants cash up front and they want you to settle your brother’s account. It’s still outstanding following his disappearance.”
“How much do they want?”
“Two hundred for your brother and a similar amount for you. They think your trip is suicidal so they want the money up front.”
“Bother. I was hoping to pay later, but we have to go to Croydon to pay Tasker and make sure the Comet is up to scratch tomorrow. We may as well carry on into London to pay the money and then pick up Andy’s flying kit. Anyway, I’m tired and Andy looks a total wreck, so we should all retire for the night.”
Andy was glad to get to bed after a long eventful day. No sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was asleep.
The next morning was raining and cold. Andy slept in until after ten-thirty. He found Archie downstairs surrounded by a mess of maps, charts and other paper.
“Hello sleepyhead,” he said.
“What’s all this?” Andy asked.
“Just getting into the nitty-gritty of organising the trip.”
Archie picked something shiny off the table and tossed it to Andy.
“Here, take this,” he said.
Andy caught the flying object and inspected it. It was a brand new coin with a hole neatly drilled through it. Looped through the hole was a meaty looking leather cord.
“That can replace the flying helmet.”
“Cheers,” said Andy, as he slipped it over his head. “You must have got up early to have got this organised though.”
“Well I had a few jobs to do in the village this morning, so I thought I’d sort you out as well.”
It may have been miserable outside, but was a perfect day to finalise details of the flight. Archie had a large map of the world stuck on the living room wall. It had pins on it marking their stopover points and red string marking the route.
“Right,” said Archie. “This is how it will be. We’re going to follow the same route used in the 1934 air race to Australia. The big difference is that we’ll stop at these points overnight to keep us and the machine in top knick.
“We’ll stay at a pub near Croydon on Thursday night. At 6.30 a.m on Friday we’ll leave Croydon airport and fly non-stop to Baghdad. It’s about 2500 miles and should take about thirteen hours. We’ll stop there overnight to re-fuel, check the Comet and rest.
“At first light on Saturday morning we’ll push on to Allahabad in India. It’s nearly 1700 miles and should take us about eight and a half hours. Once again we’ll service the aircraft and rest overnight.
“Sunday will be the big day. We’ll leave Allahabad as early as possible and fly-non-stop to Singapore, which is about 2850 miles. That’ll be over fouteen hours in the Comet, so we’ll have to be on our toes because the fuel tanks will be nearly dry by the time we get there. We’ll only stay long enough to fuel and service the aircraft, have a meal and take a toilet break.
“After that we’ll press on to Batavia in Sumatra. It’s not that far at 550-odd miles, but it will make it a long day. From there we’ll have to get a boat to Ed’s island or, preferably, a flying boat if we can find one.”
“What’s a flying boat?” asked Andy.
“It’s an aircraft that can take off and land on water. They’re quite common; you don’t have them in the 21st Century?” Stephens asked.
“Not that I know of,” Andy replied. “But I’m also confused. Looking at the map I brought with me, I can see Singapore and Baghdad, but I can’t find an Allahabad or Batavia.”
Stephens looked over Andy’s shoulder.
“There’s Allahabad in the centre of India, but it appears Sumatra is now called Indonesia and the capital city Batavia is now Jakarta. Best you just use one of our maps to avoid confusion.”
Archie interrupted impatiently.
“Now we’ve had our little geography lesson can we carry on?”
They spent rest of the day fine tuning the flight plan, inspecting equipment and attending to a dozen other details.
Their work was interrupted by a knock at the door. Stephens answered it and could be heard talking to someone.
“Who is it Stephens?” Archie yelled from the kitchen
“It’s Mr Cropp, the gamekeeper,” Stephens replied. “I’m afraid he has some disturbing news for us.”
“Well, don’t keep him out there in the cold man. Bring him in.”
Stephens returned with Mr Cropp a moment later. He was a lean man, with distinctive rusty coloured hair and sharp looking eyes. Andy could see he was a bit nervous about something. Archie got up and shook his hand.
“How are you old chap?” Archie asked. “Here, take a seat.”
“Not bad Sir, not bad. The old knees are starting to get me a bit this past winter.”
Stephens passed Mr Cropp a cup of tea as he sat down.
“What’s the news?” said Archie.
“Well, Sir. I was doing my usual walk around the boundary of the estate this morning, when I came upon a funny foreign-looking chap sitting inside the fence line looking at the manor house from across the paddock. He doesn’t see me so I sneak up behind him and poke my shotgun in his back and demands to know what he’s doing.”
Archie roared with laughter.
“That would have frightened him. What did he say?”
Mr Cropp took a sip of his tea then carried on.
“That’s the thing, Sir. He got a shock alright but he was quick to recover. He said that he wanted to know about you and this boy here. He offered me six months wages for information about some necklace thing the boy’s got. Said that the likes of you treat the likes of me like slaves and I should have no worries about taking the money and telling ‘im what he needs to know.”
Archie thumped the table.
“Cheeky bloody foreigners! What did I tell you Andy? I hope you sent him packing Croppy.”
“Oh too right I did, Sir. Told him your Da’ and you ‘ave been good to me over the years and threatened to shoot ‘im if he didn’t scarper quick smart! He didn’t believe me until I pointed my gun at ‘im. Then he called me a fool and tried to ‘ave a go at me.”
“Did he, the blighter?” said Archie. “What did you do?”
“He tried to grab my shotgun and we ‘av a bit of a struggle, then Boom! The gun goes off, then he screams an’ runs off c
Mr Cropp pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and opened it up. Inside it was a bloodied gold ring with a large black rectangular stone. Inlaid on the top of the stone was a gold snake in the shape of an S.
Andy felt sick looking at the bloodied ring. Archie and Stephens seemed quite unperturbed.
“Where’re the fingers?” Stephens casually asked.
“Buried,” said Mr Cropp. “Didn’t want anyone to see them. I’m not in trouble am I?”
“I shouldn’t think so,” said Archie. “This blighter trespasses, spies on us, threatens you and then assaults you. I don’t think he’ll go to the police.”
Archie took a closer look at the ring.
“Do you mind if we keep it?”
“Take it. I don’t want the damned thing.”
“Good man,” said Archie. “Stay for lunch.”
“No thanks, Sir. Got to deliver some pheasants up to the manor for tonight’s dinner, then get on home for a stiff drink.”
Stephens saw Mr Cropp to the door.
“I don’t like this, Sir,” he said as he came back into the room.
“Neither do I. Andy, I think you need to go back to your own time. We seem to have attracted the wrong sort of attention.”
“Not likely. I’m staying. Anyway, we’ll be leaving England soon to rescue your brother and they won’t know where we’ve gone. They’re probably just after you for insulting them anyway.”
“Alright, you can stay. Stephens. I want you to have a talk to the other staff and get them to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”
After lunch they carried on with the preparations for the flight. By 9.00 p.m they had finally reached a point where Archie was satisfied and called it a day. Andy was asleep soon after.
At 8.00 a.m the next day Andy and Archie were on their way to Croydon airport in Archie’s mother’s Riley. Archie was driving the car at his usual frenetic pace, which made Andy feel uncomfortable given the lack of seat belts. Archie only laughed at the suggestion that they should have them.
On their arrival at Croydon they went straight to the hangar where the Comet was being serviced. Archie and the owner, Mr Tasker went into an office to complete the lease agreement for the plane. Andy stayed near the airplane looking it over. For a plane built over sixty years before he was born Andy thought it looked quite modern and sleek. It also looked very small; almost too small to travel halfway round the world in. Andy chatted with the mechanic until Archie and Mr Tasker returned. They shook hands and Mr Tasker wished Archie good luck.
“Come on Andy,” Archie said as he walked towards the door. “We’ll carry on to London and get those jobs done. Then I’ll find us a nice Inn on the way home and treat you to a meal.”
Andy was enjoying the Riley as they drove through London. It was slow, noisy and draughty, even by comparison with his mother’s old Corolla, but its faults gave it character and made it seem more alive.
Archie stopped at the London office of the Gull Oil Company and went inside. Andy waited in the car. He came out again about twenty minutes later and they drove to the tailor’s to pick up Andy’s flying suit.
The tailor insisted that Andy try on the flying suit to check the fit. It was made of thick brown leather and had a sheep-skin lining. The pants went nearly up to his chest and were held up by old fashioned braces. The jacket was made of the same material with a high collar. It was very warm and Andy was soon sweating.
“It’s a bit hot isn’t it?”
“You won’t think it’s too hot over the Alps with ice inside the cockpit,” Archie replied.
Half an hour and fifty pounds later they walked out of the tailor’s. Andy was busy chatting to Archie and did not see the man in front of him walk out of a shop door. The two collided and Andy fell over.
The man bent over and took Andy by the arm to help him up.
“Sorry there young fella, no damage done, eh?”
Andy spotted the Kiwi accent immediately. He looked up at the man and nearly fell back down again in shock. He knew the slender face and curly blond locks straight away.
“You’re Jack Lovelock!” he said.
The man smiled.
“Yes I am,” he said. “How did you know?”
“You’re going to win gold in the 1500 metres in the nineteen thirty si… I mean, this year’s Olympics. You and Jesse Owens will be the major upset of the games. I did a school project on you last term.”
Jack Lovelock laughed.
“Steady on,” he said. “I haven’t even run the race yet. You’ll jinx me. What’s your name?”
“Andy. Andy Anderson Sir.”
Jack Lovelock reached out and shook Andy’s hand.
“Well Andy Anderson, obviously visiting from New Zealand, I’m pleased to see you have so much faith in me.”
Andy was smiling like a lunatic.
“Nice to meet you too Mr Lovelock. Meeting you has made my trip.”
After a few minutes chatting, the two said goodbye and went on their way.
“So that chap is going to clean up the 1500 in Berlin?” said Archie, obviously impressed.
“Yep, they called it the perfect race.”
“And this other chap, Jessie Owens, he wins as well?”
“Sure does. He was the star of the games. Hitler refused to meet him though.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he was black.”
“Oh!” said Archie surprised. “A Negro beating Mr Hitler’s Aryan supermen eh? Old Adolph wouldn’t like that at all.”
Andy stopped and looked at Archie. He looked far away, as though he was plotting something. It made him suspicious.
“Why are you asking?”
“Oh, no reason. Let’s go to that pub and get your passport shall we?”
They hopped into the Riley and drove to the Blind Beggar pub. It was a seedy run-down looking place that had obviously seen better days. Archie parked the car and turned to Andy.
“This is a pretty rough looking place. I’ll go in and you stay in the car.”
“OK.”
Archie went in the pub. It was no better on the inside than it appeared from the car. He strained to see Charlie through the low haze of cigarette smoke in the dimly-lit room. After a minute Archie saw him leaning on the bar. Charlie nodded then walked towards a table at the far end of the room. Archie followed him over and they sat down together. No one paid any attention. They all knew better than to nose into Charlie’s business.
“Do you have them?” Archie said.
“Yes, they’re very nice one too. Much better than expected.”
Charlie passed the passports over and Archie had a discrete look, before slipping them into his pocket.
“Thank you very much,” he said.
“Pleasure doing business, but you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ve probably got an idea of what will happen to you if you don’t.”
Archie gave an involuntary shudder. The look in Charlie’s eyes spoke volumes about the consequences of getting on the wrong side of him.
“Of course I’ll keep it to myself. However; does this fine establishment have a local bookmaker? I have a bet I’d like to make.”
Charlie sat back and studied Archie as he took a mouthful of beer.
“You don’t strike me as the sort of man that needs to gamble.”
“Well, this isn’t a gamble. It’s as good as done already.”
“What’s the bet?”
“Jack Lovelock to win the 1500 metres at this summer’s Olympics in Berlin.”
“Jack Lovelock? Never heard of him. How do you know he’s gonna win. Is the race fixed?”
‘No of course not. I just have it on very good authority that Lovelock’s the man.”
Charlie took several long gulps on his pint glass and then wiped his mouth.
Andy had been sitting in the car for about ten minutes.
“Man, how long does it take to get an illegal passport?” he thought to himself. “Archie’s probably mouthed off to someone inside the pub and is getting a beating.”
He sat back in the seat and closed his eyes to have a nap while he was waiting. No sooner had he done so, than his door was wrenched open and he was grabbed by the collar and hauled out of the car.
He found himself being roughly held by a man who looked very much like one of the men from the train.
“Is this him?” the man called over his shoulder in a thick accent.
Andy looked and saw three more men. Two looked like the one that was holding him, but the third was a huge ugly brute with a bandage on his right hand.
“That’s him. Bring him to the car.”
Andy kicked and struggled for all he was worth.
“Help, help!” he called. “Archie! Someone get Archie!”
A woman who was walking past tried to intervene.
“Oi you, bloody foreigners. Let that boy go!”
One of the men pushed her out of the way just as one of the patrons from the pub stuck his head out the door to see what was going on. He called back inside to his mates.
“Hey, boys. There’s a woman an’ a kid getting a hiding from some foreign-looking bods out here. Come on!”
He charged out of the door and was hit in the face by one of the group who was kidnapping Andy.
“Get that boy into the car before we have to fight all the scum in this whole neighborhood!” the ugly man called.
Andy tried to kick free but was hit hard around the head. He saw stars and went limp. The men bundled him into their car and sped off at the same time as the patrons inside the pub crashed out onto the street looking for a fight. Archie and Charlie were amongst them. Archie looked over to the Riley parked nearby and saw it sitting empty with the passenger’s front door open. Feeling a tide of panic within him he looked back to the getaway car speeding off into the distance.
“Oh no! What have I done?”