Chapter 68

The Tower Captain had woken early as the house martins were noisy this morning. The birds were making their nest on this beautiful spring day just metres from where his head had been lying on the down filled pillows. Even with a single pane of glass set into this beautiful Tudor home, their cheeps and chirps cut through the envelope of the property into the bedroom.

Their calls stirred the late middle aged man to life. Mavis was still sleeping next to him as he rolled out of bed. He reached for his dressing gown and padded downstairs, ducking under a couple of oak beams. Whilst a beautiful property, it had a number of impractical characteristics, one of which was the height under the sturdy oak beams at first floor level.

The Tower Captain filled up the kettle and made sure it would soon be bubbling away. He checked on the home-made bread that his wife had prepared the previous evening. The smell of the bread was still in the air and he lingered before shuffling over to the downstairs closet.

So as not to disturb his wife when he was back at home from his weekly consultancy role in the city, he had had the closet installed near the back of the house. In addition to holding his gun cabinet, always kept under lock and key, there were his basic outdoor clothes and a clean set of undergarments.

The Tower Captain dressed and put on his Wellington boots and Barbour jacket. Closing the back door as quietly as possible, he walked along the gravel path to the small outhouses a hundred metres away from the main house. It really was a beautiful spring morning, he thought. It was going to be an exceptional day and this was just the start he needed. The bulbs were in full flower. He had seen the end of the crocuses and the snowdrops and it was now the turn of the mighty daffodils and tulips. His garden, though more realistically described as an estate, was starting to come into life.

He was reminded of his conversation with a fellow consultant in the city earlier in the week.

“Spring in the air,” the consultant had exclaimed, as the warmth and smells of spring had even pervaded the heart of the capital.

The Tower Captain had responded, “Spring in the air yourself!” Once he had caught on, both of the city workers had chuckled for quite a while there after.

Reaching the outhouses and their surrounding yard, he peered into the first enclosure. Pinkie and Perkie, his two six month old black Berkshire pigs shuffled back towards him. They were looking very well indeed. Having created a large mound of earth immediately outside of their sty, their noses, acting like very efficient shovels, were working the ground over, adjacent to the sty itself. A treat to watch, he could not believe the pigs were approaching six months. Their standard of living had allowed them to put on a good amount of weight and hoover up scraps, potatoes and everything else that they were given.

The Tower Captain walked into the small outbuilding opposite, which contained his small flock. He checked that the feeders and the water containers were working properly and full and that his hens and cockerel were well. Most importantly, he went to the nesting areas where he removed half a dozen eggs and smiled at the beauty of it all.

Lastly, he completed his round by walking over to the paddock fences. He reflected that he had erected these fences with his bare hands. What a feat that had been! Gazing over the Hampshire countryside had helped to make it all worthwhile. His alpacas and llamas stayed a respectful distance away. These animals enjoyed their own space and, still being fairly new to the Tower Captain, he was enjoying gaining an understanding of their ways.

As this was a special day, the Tower Captain wanted to check on the space that he had created in the garaging next to the outhouses. With a spring in his step, he quickly opened up the triple doors and lovingly stared at his restored MGB with original metallic spokes and beautiful, dark brown interior trim. He had always been a fan of classic cars, but for his new addition it was not just going to be about the car now, was it?

Turning towards his beautiful home with its higgledy piggledy exterior, he removed the Sunday paper from the jet black post box by the dark wooden entrance gates and proceeded back to the rear entrance.

Checking the kettle had boiled, he poured the three mugs of tea, knocking on Monica’s door to let her know that Daddy had made her weekend early morning cuppa.

The Tower Captain was proud of his daughter Monica. Not naturally into reading or writing, she had found school and studies difficult. As her father, the Tower Captain had been unsure where her future lay. When he had first moved into his alternative businesses he had soon realised the value of trust. His consultancy role in the city which he had developed over the years, had always been an excellent cover.

Naturally a cautious person leaving nothing to chance, the Tower Captain was aware that these attributes had served him well. His own parents had always said “Leave no stone unturned,” or “Go the extra mile.” The Tower Captain also believed that if you wanted something badly enough, or cared about the quality of the output of your work, then it was always worth doing it to the best of your ability.

The Tower Captain’s activities were particularly sensitive; he needed to share the details with as few people as practically possible. Monica was one of those people. Whilst perhaps appearing outwardly dippy, her father knew that he could trust her implicitly. The unassuming exterior was one of her strengths as this ensured that those around Monica relaxed in her company, trusted her, and more importantly, shared their thoughts and what was going on in their lives.

The Tower Captain, his wife Mavis and their daughter Monica were all going into the centre of Portsmouth today. Each of them made their way through boiled eggs and dippers and a further piece of toast, with freshly made marmalade.

“Wonderful fresh bread and marmalade,” the Tower Captain said to his wife. Mavis confirmed agreement and that she thought the brown worked much better with the seed mix added. Monica made it clear that they should all keep moving and grabbed her black leather jacket. The Tower Captain considered it too small as it rose up and showed her midriff, but that was all the rage apparently.

The family party locked up the main house and headed over to the outbuildings. The Tower Captain revved up the large Audi and they were on their way, sweeping along the drive of the estate, the house screened by the extensive landscaping. Out into the rolling Hampshire countryside, the car passed along the narrow rural lanes which would meet up with the M27 to take them into the heart of the City of Portsmouth.

The Tower Captain dropped Monica off discreetly at the top end of the pedestrianised high street. She had some weekend shopping to do and was required to undertake some overtime at the naval base in the afternoon. In view of her efficiency, Commander Edgar Bennett had ensured that Monica now fulfilled the role of his personal assistant. It was an invaluable role for Monica and for her family, to have someone on the inside, and of course outwardly for the Commander as he believed that she was efficiently fulfilling all of her duties and had no suspicions.

The Tower Captain and Mavis continued onto the cobbled streets of Old Portsmouth and parked the large vehicle on one of the recently metered side streets. The Cathedral stood out brightly ahead, the twin towers of the western façade contrasting with the pale blue of the sky. The Tower Captain and Mavis walked round to the gated side entrance and up the wide, internal, stone steps. Walking past the organ, Mavis paused briefly to catch her breath and turned to look out over the main body of the Cathedral with all of the wooden chairs for the congregation below.

The Tower Captain unlocked the small wooden door that led up to the ringing chamber and they both proceeded up the small flight of indented, stone steps that wound round to the right. This layout, the Tower Captain thought, had stemmed from the right handed defender coming down the stairs needing the sword arm advantage in the event of a siege.

Opening up the ringing chamber door, the Tower Captain quickly carried out his initial duties. He took the clock chimes off. He wound the clock using the long metal handle for leverage. He lowered the pulley holding all of the ringing ropes and started to tie up all of the ropes individually so that their ends were not loose on the polished wooden floor.

He checked that the necessary arrangements were in place next door to the ringing chamber, and then went up the oak ladder into the belfry. His tool kit lay to the side of the tenor bell and it only took him five minutes to complete his task.

It was a shame that it had come to this. The lad had come too close to spoiling it all and he had to be removed. The Tower Captain’s assistants had requested help after the episode in the Alps. Lieutenant Archie Malcolm had to be dispatched, and the Tower Captain needed to play his part. If you are going to do something, do it well.