Mr Campion's Wings by Mike Ripley

Author:Mike Ripley [Ripley, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2021-09-06T00:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

The Adorable Professor

The second officially sanctioned burglary of the Goshawk Project was carried out smoothly and with disconcerting ease.

With the help of a weak early moon and their torches, the Campions picked their way over the Bin Brook and the rough pasture towards the dark shadow of the Goshawk hangar, even managing to negotiate the sunken rifle range with the practised ease of a pair of well-dressed mountain goats. Soon they were crunching across the car parking area, now deserted except for the Project’s Land Rover, and standing before the large sliding door of the dark hangar.

Amanda worked her deft magic with the padlock, Campion slid the door aside and they padded across the floor of the hangar, as if wary of disturbing a lurking ghost. In the office, the impressive-looking safe yielded easily to another key, causing Campion to wonder just how many keys there were to this establishment. Given the sensitivity of the work being carried out, the lack of security measures ought surely to be a worry to the Alandel shareholders, and then he remembered that he was one himself.

‘The bait’s been taken,’ said Amanda, kneeling in front of the safe and shining her torch into the interior which, to her husband’s eyes, contained the same disordered pile of papers and drawings which he had seen the night before.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive,’ said Amanda, closing the safe and locking it.

‘Not worried about leaving fingerprints, darling?’ Campion asked, smiling in the dark.

His torch beam caught Amanda’s pout perfectly.

‘Why should I? It’s my safe.’

‘I suppose it is. You’ll have to forgive me – my breaking-and-entering days are long behind me.’

‘Don’t let that old reprobate Lugg hear you say that. He’ll think that all those years of personal tutoring and mentoring have gone to waste. Did you retain nothing from all your years learning at the master’s knee?’

‘The only thing learned at Lugg’s knee these days is either sciatica or lumbago,’ scoffed Campion. ‘Are we done here? I thought you were taking me out on the town tonight.’

Amanda consulted the luminous dial of her watch. ‘I think I should have said we are going into town tonight, not on the town. We need to be discreet as, after all, I am technically being held by our wonderful security services, but you’re right, we should make a move. And should you be tempted to hold hands or put an arm around me, please remember how I am dressed. We do not want to draw attention to ourselves.’

Campion feigned surprise. ‘But my dear, this is supposed to be the Swinging Sixties and we are in Cambridge. How could we possibly attract unwanted attention?’

Once outside, Amanda took the lead and walked the length of the hangar until they reached the access road which joined with the Madingley Road. When they were opposite the site of the concrete and glass structures of Churchill College, Amanda pointed out that full college status for the newest academic constituency of the institution that was Cambridge University was expected

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