OPERATION LIGHTNING BOLT an absolutely gripping historical murder mystery full of twists (Standalone Historical Sagas and Mysteries) by HILARY GREEN

OPERATION LIGHTNING BOLT an absolutely gripping historical murder mystery full of twists (Standalone Historical Sagas and Mysteries) by HILARY GREEN

Author:HILARY GREEN [GREEN, HILARY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books historical fiction wartime sagas and mysteries
Published: 2022-09-07T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 14

In a shabby public house, one of the few buildings still standing between Cable Street and the Commercial Road in London’s East End, a tall man with reddish hair, wearing sergeant’s uniform, made his way to a table where two others were sitting. Both were in their early thirties, one a runt of a man with a narrow, pockmarked face, the other broad and beefy with a broken nose. Both were wearing the rough clothes of a labourer. The man looked down at them with a smile.

‘Well, it’s like old times! You two still skiving off just like when we were all at school.’

The two men looked up at him and the larger of the two assumed a belligerent expression.

‘What you talking about? Who the hell are you?’

‘Oh, come on! I know it’s a long time but . . .’

The small man let out a gasp as recognition dawned. ‘Blimey! It isn’t, is it? Foxy Leroux!’

The newcomer grinned. ‘Wotcher, Piggy! How you doing?’ The accent was pure cockney.

‘What . . . ?’ The big man looked from one to the other.

‘Come on, Beano! Don’t you recognize him? It’s Foxy, what went missing way back.’ He turned his gaze to the man standing above him. ‘We heard you stowed away on a ship for America, must be getting on for twenty years ago.’

‘You heard right, except I didn’t stow away. I went as a kitchen hand,’ Foxy told him. ‘But I came back, remember?’

‘Yeah, ’course you did. I remember now.’ Piggy nodded sentimentally. ‘You was here for your old mum’s funeral.’

‘That’s right, I was. Now, what are you drinking? I’ll get a round in.’

When they were all settled with fresh pints of bitter, the large man asked, ‘Where’ve you been since then? I haven’t seen you around.’

‘Oh, here and there, round and about. Ducking and diving. You know the form. Last couple of years I’ve been serving His Majesty.’ Foxy plucked the khaki sleeve of his uniform and looked at them. ‘I see you’ve both managed to stay out of it.’

‘Got flat feet, haven’t I?’ said Beano.

‘And I’ve got a weak chest. MO had one listen with his stethy-thing and said, “You’re more suitable for the knackers yard than the British Army.”’

The man they called Foxy took a long draught of his beer. ‘Thinking back to the last time I was round here, for my old mum’s funeral, like you said. Have you had any more trouble from that fascist mob what caused the riot?’

‘Mosley’s lot? Nah, they’re all doing time now, ain’t they?’ said Piggy.

‘Not all of them,’ said Beano. He lowered his voice. ‘There’s still a few around who reckon him and his Blackshirts had it right.’

‘Round here?’ asked Foxy.

‘There’s a bloke what drinks at the Pig and Whistle who’s always carrying on about how we ought to have signed a deal with Hitler when we had the chance. Reckons we’d have been better off siding with the Germans than fighting alongside them lily-livered Frogs.’

‘Really, even after everything that’s happened?’ queried Foxy.



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