Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5) Madalyn Morgan (ebook smartphone .txt) 📖

- Oswald Mosley, for one. Sutherland was released in 1945. The SS organised two main escape routes out of Germany at the end of the war. They were called ratlines, used mostly by escaping German military and spies. But some British fascists “piggy-backed” to get out of England. One ratline went through Spain, and one through Italy. Both ended up in South America, Bolivia, or Switzerland. A few Nazis went on to North America, but it’s more likely that Sutherland had been enjoying the good-life in Argentina, or Paraguay.’

‘If Sutherland had been having such a wonderful life abroad, why did he want to come back to England?’

Henry looked up to the heavens, as if the answer lie there, and exhaled loudly. ‘I can only think of one reason. He must have got himself into serious trouble with some bad people. If he hadn’t died, he would most certainly be leaving England for a different country far away, where the government turns a blind eye to Nazis with enough money to buy a small beach bar on the coast. Probably somewhere like Brazil.’

‘Could that be why he ended up in the lake? If he was in serious trouble overseas, isn’t it possible that someone followed him to England and when the opportunity presented itself, shoved him into the lake? Better still, drowned him somewhere else, and dumped his body in our lake,’ Frank said.

Icy fingers gripped Bess’s spine and she rolled her shoulders. Having stood inches from the spot where Sutherland’s body was found, the police might think she and Margot had something to do with his death. ‘Well, no one killed him on New Year’s Eve, because Margot and I were right next to the place where his body was found. If there’d been any strangers about we would have seen them.’

‘Not necessarily,’ Henry said. ‘If he was killed - and the police have found nothing so far to suggest he was - it’s likely that he met his end at the hands of one of Gerald Hawksley’s men. In which case, you wouldn’t have seen him, Bess. The mercenaries in Hawksley’s employ are professionals; they are never seen.’

Henry’s brow creased in thought. ‘But something has spooked Hawksley. Since the beginning of the year he has sold two houses in London and one on the south coast - and we don’t know where the money from any of the sales is. Nor do we know what he plans to do with it. So, until we know exactly what he’s up to, MI5 is keeping a low profile.’

Henry looked at Bess. ‘My advice to you is do the same. And stay away from Sir Gerald Hawksley and his daughter Katherine.

‘And there’s something else,’ Henry said. ‘I told you Hawksley bought stables for his daughter last year. Well, he also accepted a seat on the board of governors at Lowarth’s Grammar School.’ Bess’s eyes widened and she looked at her brother-in-law in disbelief. ‘It’s true,’ Henry nodded. ‘It’s to get in with the local worthies, integrate with business people. He says he’s putting down roots because he wants stability for his daughter. We think he’s doing the opposite and one day he’ll disappear.

‘He has even joined the Lowarth lodge of Freemasons - which,’ Henry said with a sardonic smile, ‘is the lodge your Sergeant McGann goes to. Hawksley’s putting up one hell of a smoke screen.’

Bess laughed. ‘Poor old McGann. He won’t be so cocky when his fellow Masons find out his pal, Sir Gerald Hawksley, who you can guarantee McGann has been cosying up to, is a Nazi sympathiser.’

‘Nor when he finds out the Metropolitan Police are sending up a detective inspector to take over the Sutherland case.’

‘What?’ Bess and Frank said at the same time.

‘Yes. I don’t have the details - they’re still with the Leicestershire Coroner - but because of Sutherland’s connection to Hawksley and the fascist movement there’s a possibility that on the night he drowned there was foul play. Detective Inspector Masters will inform Sergeant McGann tomorrow. Masters is six months away from retiring on a good pension and, according to my boss, was content to sit behind a desk and shuffle papers until he left. But when he heard someone from his division was needed to take charge of an enquiry into David Sutherland’s death, he volunteered for the job.

‘He’s ex-Army, won medals for bravery, and has at least one medal for Gallantry from the Met. He’s got a reputation for being a bit of a bulldog. He’s a good copper and gets results. If he hadn’t joined up in 1940, he’d probably be a Chief Superintendent now.’

‘Fancy volunteering to put himself in danger, when he could spend the rest of his time on the force taking it easy.’

‘My boss at MI5 reckons he has an agenda, which is another reason I’m here.’

Frank laughed. ‘McGann won’t like working with a detective inspector from London. The arrogant little bugger thinks he knows it all.’

‘Detective Inspector Masters will have the pleasure of informing Sergeant McGann of many things that he won’t like when he takes over the case.’

‘I’ll drink to McGann having his nose put out of joint.’ Frank drained his glass. ‘And what about you, Henry?’

‘DI Masters knows I work for MI5, but as far as McGann’s concerned I’m attached to Military Intelligence. If he asks me why the military is involved, I’ll say we had a tip-off that a couple of men have been seen in the grounds of one of the old top-secret communications facilities in the area, and I’ve been sent up here to check it out. I’ll have to tell him I have clearance to assist with police enquiries, or he might try to stop me.

‘And, to ensure McGann doesn’t tell Hawksley during a trouser lifting at a Free Mason’s meeting, I’ll tell him it’s all very hush-hush and in no circumstances