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Author Topic: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)  (Read 615585 times)

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Offline Chris in Prague

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6570 on: December 31, 2019, 04:49:32 PM »
Just caught up Chris.
Cracking stuff as ever.
Quiet night in here with paella and plenty of beer and wine.
Tomorrow, the spare bedroom will revert to a train room so pictures to come.
Have a great New Year.
Best Regards

Martin

Many thanks, Martin. Some Slovak food and Chinese spring rolls from M&S are on the menu here. Paella is an excellent idea. I miss that.

I look forward to seeing those photos. and will take plenty, this week. I have a lot of yours to match plus plenty of new ones to take.

I've just posted an update. More, tomorrow!

All the best for 2020 to you and all friends and followers.

Chris

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6571 on: January 01, 2020, 04:09:30 PM »
D.I. Rule had been very surprised to receive a medium-sized plain brown envelope, bearing a London SW1 postmark, with his typed name and address, at Newquay Police Station. Inside was a short, typewritten note:

“D.I. Rule, please, find enclosed two 1st class return train tickets to London, and a hotel voucher for full board for you and your wife at a very comfortable central London hotel, courtesy of HMG. I can promise you something you won’t want to miss!”

It was signed simply, Snapper.

Rule checked the dates, Thursday to Sunday night, in four weeks’ time. Immediately, he put in his leave request for those dates. As soon as his request was approved by his superior and his wife, he called a Scotland Yard number.

Offline Chris in Prague

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6572 on: January 01, 2020, 04:30:38 PM »
It was a very subdued group that gathered in the dining room for a late buffet breakfast the following morning. Everyone’s thoughts were with Jim, Monique, Phil, Amanda, and Jenny. As usual, Eli was bustling about the adjacent kitchen, now assisted by Sylvia who was the only person whom the young Breton would tolerate helping in ‘her’ kitchen. Eli had been up, washed, and dressed, rather earlier than her friends, to prepare a grand fry-up breakfast, including her renowned Breton buckwheat breakfast galettes with fresh mushrooms, for Huw and his grateful comrades who had been on night duty and would then try to sleep during the day.

“We will do what is ordered and at every command, we will be ready!” chorused the young men after Jeremy and Giles had given them their instructions for the day. After breakfast, they would take over from Huw and his former T-Force men. The two replacements, dour but very well-built Scots twins, named Douglas and Callum, were assigned to guard the central house’s front door under Richard’s direct command.

Almost immediately after the twins had taken up their posts, they reported to Richard that an unmarked black Daimler was drawing up outside.

“I know who that should be. Wait until he has got out and is on the steps so that I can visually confirm that he is just who I think it is.”

“Yes, sir. We will do what is ordered and at every command, we will be ready!” replied Callum.

Satisfied, after studying the man’s confident approach from the corner of a front window, Richard instructed, “Let him in, Callum.”

Richard then welcomed the visitor and, after taking his hat, lead him straight through to the kitchen.

“Good morning, everybody. I hope that I’m not too late for breakfast?”

“Good morning, Mr. Snapper. No, you’re not,” smiled Eli. “A full English?”

“That will do me very nicely, Miss Guillou. With fried bread, two slices, and two of white bread toast to follow, please, too.”

“Very good to see you, Mr. Snapper. A nice mug of strong tea to go with it? Butter and a selection of marmalades and other fruit preserves are all on the table.”

“Thank you, Miss Trevelver. Looking around, I see you’re very well supplied!”

“Yes, we are, indeed. We can’t complain about THAT!” Sylvia smiled.

“Four heaped teaspoons of sugar and just a little milk, please, Miss Trevelver.”

“Coming right up, Mr. Snapper.”

“Do you have everything prepared, Miss Foreman?” the detective asked as he settled at the corner kitchen table.

“Yes, as agreed. It’s being loaded by two of Richard’s men, now. Thank you very much for agreeing to take us four there, Mr. Snapper.”

“Not at all, Miss Foreman. Despite what some may say, this is still a police matter! I am particularly keen to question that young Russian woman.”

“Agreed,” stated Jeremy who, accompanied by Giles, had just entered the kitchen in search of a refill for their coffee mugs. “But whether she’ll be in a fit condition to talk or even be ready to …”

“Understood. But it’s still worth the trip, just in case.”

“We’ll be ready after our coffees, Mr. Snapper. The Admiral has confirmed we are cleared to visit the secure medical facility where Jim, Monique, Phil, Amanda, and Jenny, not to mention, the young Russian woman, are all recovering. However, we are all to be blindfolded before we get too close to the location and until we are safely inside and on the first part of our return journey, too!”

“That will be a problem for the driver, Jeremy!”

“The Admiral was … kind enough to provide one of his own men with the car, Eli. He’s waiting in the car and makes Douglas and Callum appear positively garrulous in comparison!”

They all laughed.

“However, I must warn you that Jim and Monique are, as we know, in the worst physical condition and won’t be out of danger for a few days, yet.”

“Leave that to me, Jeremy,” stated Susan firmly. “You’ll have to keep the medical staff away whilst I … work my ‘magic’ on the patients,” she smiled shyly. “And you’ll have to stress that the equipment I will need to leave behind to speed their recovery is top secret and neither to be examined, touched, or interfered with, in ANY way!”

“Understood, Susan. We will do what is ordered and at every command, we will be ready!” stated Jeremy, automatically.

Susan laughed. “No need for that with me, Jeremy!”

“No, of course,” he replied rather shamefacedly. “Sorry, Susan. Force of habit, I’m afraid. It’s been a tiring few days.”

“I fully understand and the next few days will not be any easier, Jeremy.”
« Last Edit: January 01, 2020, 09:31:07 PM by Chris in Prague, Reason: Corrected. »

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6573 on: January 01, 2020, 09:28:50 PM »
 :hellosign:
   Thanks Chris, all very interesting
    regards Derek.
ONLY ONE RULE ENJOY

Offline Chris in Prague

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6574 on: January 02, 2020, 12:47:53 PM »
Thank you, Derek. I intend to post an update daily until the story ends (probably next week). It should then segue into Martin's pigeon racing tale. 8-)

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6575 on: January 02, 2020, 12:53:19 PM »
Their visit over and the blindfolds replaced, Jeremy, Giles, Sylvia, Susan, and D.C.I. Snapper were guided back and into the black Daimler, the doors were closed, and the car sped off back towards Chelsea.

“So, Phil, Amanda, and Jenny are all recovering well, Susan,” remarked Sylvia to her unseen companions.

“Yes, Sylvi, and their healing will, like that of Jim and Monique, proceed much faster, thanks to the special equipment we left working by their beds. Phil will ensure that no-one interferes with it, he assured me. As you saw, along with Amanda and Jenny, he’s already sitting up in bed and fully conscious. A differently tuned apparatus will ensure that Noona’s injuries will all heal rapidly and without leaving any scars. Did you get the chance to question Noona, after I had set everything up, Mr. Snapper?”

“Alas, not, Miss Foreman. As soon as you’d gone, a nurse came in and informed me that only authorised personnel could speak with her and that she was still under mild sedation!”

“Hmm,” replied Susan. “Well, whilst I was setting up the healing apparatus, I was able to communicate with Noona, to reassure her that she was completely safe and that no harm would come to her. Telepathically, of course, to her subconscious. Despite your explicit orders, Jeremy, I had a doctor with me at all times. However, he did promise me not to interfere with my equipment, which he knew to be highly secret. Although, naturally, his professional curiosity was very much aroused by both it and me!”

“So, were you able to discover anything significant, Miss Foreman?”

“Yes, indeed, Mr. Snapper. Noona and her companion, Colonel Alexei Sokolov, were members of the GRU’s First Directorate, responsible for its activities within Europe. They were trained at a Soviet Ministry of Defence military academy before receiving additional training at a Higher Military School. Very interestingly, Sokolov was also trained at the Soviet Military-Space Academy which, I strongly suspect has, somehow, been infiltrated by the Daleks … That would be only logical, and the Daleks are, in their way, very logical creatures! Colonel Sokolov had some kind of a special hold over Noona which she experienced as infatuation but, again, I suspect, was a form of indirect Dalek mind control, a weaker version of their technology which captures the mind of sentient creatures and enables the Daleks to remotely command humans, turning them into Robomen, which I’m sure the Colonel was. But, whatever hold Sokolov had over Noona, died with him.”

“We’ll need to ask the Admiral to confirm that, Miss Foreman. His report must already be complete.”

“If he’ll share any of it with the likes of us, Mr. Snapper.”

“Indeed, Captain Cador.”

“Maybe, Jeremy,” Susan mused, “you could offer a mutual exchange of information; without, of course, mentioning me?”

“An excellent suggestion, Susan! I’ll do that once we’re back in Chelsea.”

“We had better arrange for Monique’s favourite nightdress and dressing gown to be immediately despatched, along with our five friends’ outdoor clothes, as soon as we get back. Monique will loathe waking up in those institutional pyjamas they’ve all been dressed in!” laughed Eli.

Offline Chris in Prague

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6576 on: January 02, 2020, 03:33:18 PM »
The next few days, in Chelsea, passed uneventfully apart from carefully checked deliveries and despatches. On the Thursday, a black Daimler delivered Phil, Amanda, and Jenny, fully recovered, to everyone’s delight, along with all the equipment which Susan had left by their three beds and she carefully checked before Jeremy, later, drove it with her to 76 Trotter’s Lane for secure storage.

“The doctors said that our swift recovery was nothing short of miraculous,” announced Phil as he led the two smiling young women into the house to be welcomed by their waiting friends who hugged and kissed them with relief and delight.

“Indeed, quite miraculous,” smiled Jeremy, shaking his friend’s outstretched hand.

Andy rushed forward past them to greet Amanda who threw her arms around him as they both went to kiss the other.

“The doctors say that Jim and Monique should be released by the end of next week, Jeremy”, added Phil, still smiling broadly.

“Excellent news and a lot to do with your help, Susan.”

“Thank you, Jeremy, but the equipment only accelerated the natural healing processes. They’re all young and fit. How’s Noona?” added Susan, quietly.

“That we don’t know, Susan,” Phil replied. “But she is awake, the youngest of the nurses told me, in the strictest confidence, of course! However, Noona’s not allowed to speak to anyone and I’m to take you to see her soon and, again, when it’s time for you to collect your devices, again.”

“Hmm, I know why I’ll soon be taken to see Noona, Phil.”
« Last Edit: January 03, 2020, 08:48:06 AM by Chris in Prague, Reason: Updated. »

Offline Chris in Prague

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6577 on: January 03, 2020, 01:23:58 PM »
Alan Poldory had never liked jellied eels and had got, literally, very fed up of meat pies, but living above a pie-and-eels shop, as he currently did, he had no other choice if he was not to venture out on the streets and he had received very strict instructions from the Twins, via one of the minor gang members who acted as their surly messenger, not to do so under any circumstances as he was being watched. Then there was the money he had pocketed from the dead Russian known to him as Mr. Smith ... In his barely furnished flat, there was not a single safe hiding place for the banknotes, search as Alan could. He knew better than to spend any of them carelessly and ostentatiously, so they remained virtually untouched, distributed about him whenever he was able to go out. Poldory wished that he still had his poacher’s coat with its secret pockets. But more than that, he wished he could have a Cornish pasty; ideally, a freshly made extra-large one from the ‘North Cornwall Pasty Co.’ of Penmayne, nice and hot. In fact, he had to admit to himself, he wished that he was back in North Cornwall instead of stuck in East London confined to a dingy upstairs flat, awaiting orders from people he did not trust and who did not trust him. At least, Alan consoled himself, there had been no mention of, nor contact from, the Russians. Didn't they know of the horrific death of their agent at Taunton station and the loss of whatever that valuable reddish-gold something had been in the agent's oblong black briefcase? And then there was the small red-covered notebook, too, which he always carried deep in a jacket inside pocket and whose contents were unreadable.

He was left with plenty of time to recall what the gang member with a flattened nose and a limp, who had first brought him to the flat, had told him:

“The East End is an ‘ard place. It’s famous for turning out gangsters and there’s none more famous than the Twins an’ ‘the Firm’, Poldory. There’s rules you live by, and if you break ‘em, you pays the price. The code’s this: You don’t grass on yer own mates. Ever. Got that!” Poldory nodded vigorously. “You respect women. You never steal off your own ... Any violence is strictly between ourselves or between us an’ people who know the rules. If anyone is dealing with us, they are shady to begin with and they know the score ... But the streets are safe, 'cos no one in their right mind would come into our area and commit crimes.”

Then, one mid-morning the same limping man had come in an old Austin car to collect him.

“Can’t have you sittin’ around all day doin’ nuffink, can we, Poldory? Your Ruski friends ain’t bin around an’ tha’ business with the racehorse didn’t turn out so well, good job fer yew it’s bin fergotten, so … you’re needed up at ‘Esmeralda’s’. You’re the new odd job man. Congratulations, old mate!” The man had then guffawed and pounded him hard on his back before turning him with his big strong hands to gaze hard into his eyes. “Do as you’re told, Poldory, is my advice. Keep your eyes an’ ears closed, an’ you’ll be alright. The grub’s more than good enough but lay off the booze, especially the wines an’ spirits! A pint or two’s okay though when your work’s all done. But mind you does it proper, like, or you’ll soon learn what happens if you cross ‘em!”

Thus, began Alan’s new daily routine. Someone would collect him in whatever car or van was available and whoever was the least drunk would take him back after whatever time the club had closed. Once the club had passed the owners’ daily inspection, there was plenty of time for a sleep on one of the backroom couches as long as his shoes were off and his clothes clean. He had been bought a new pair of smart black shoes for indoors, a pair of stout workmen’s steel-capped boots, all of which had to be kept to a military shine, two pairs of dungarees and denim shirts and a woven woollen cap. The rest of the clothing he wore was his responsibility, but the socks must always be dark grey and long, he was instructed. Having seen what happened to anyone who failed to live up to the owners’ exacting standards, Alan was always very neat, clean, and deferential. It was not too dissimilar, he had plenty of time to reflect, to his former life at the "Clifftop Hotel", just west of Trevaunance Cove, but a lot more interesting.
« Last Edit: January 03, 2020, 03:43:09 PM by Chris in Prague, Reason: Updated. »

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6578 on: January 03, 2020, 04:53:01 PM »
Sounds like yet another change of direction for Poldory.
Intrigued to see how it turns out.
If it looks right then it most probably is right.


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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6579 on: January 03, 2020, 06:46:35 PM »
Susan and Jeremy had been driven, again, in a black Daimler and Susan had spent a quarter of an hour, on her own, with Noona. All that Susan would tell anyone was that she had done all that was required and Noona was fine. Then she and Jeremy had been allowed to spend a short time with Jim and Monique who were already well on the way to recovery. However, to their great disappointment, even with the remaining items of Susan’s equipment still working by their beds, their doctors firmly stated that Jim and Monique would not be well enough to leave until the following Wednesday.

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6580 on: January 03, 2020, 06:47:57 PM »
Sounds like yet another change of direction for Poldory.
Intrigued to see how it turns out.

Thank you, Martin. You should know, next week. 8-)

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6581 on: January 04, 2020, 11:18:48 AM »
On the Friday morning, D.I. Rule had arranged to meet for coffee near Rule’s hotel in a quiet backstreet Italian café. Rule’s wife was busy, having been taken by an experienced local female Detective Inspector for a day’s shopping along Oxford and Regent Streets. As the Cornishman leisurely worked his way, by an indirect route, he stopped frequently to ensure that he was not being pursued, checking in shop window reflections for what was behind him, quickly popping into shops, at random, then leaving after a short or a longer time, slowing his walking down unpredictably and then speeding it up again, and crossing busy streets just before the traffic lights changed.

Satisfied that he had not been followed after a final stop to look in a nearby shop window, Rule was, as arranged, the first to arrive. He took a seat at a table in the far corner from the café’s entrance where he could see who was entering but not be seen by anyone looking in from outside. After ordering an espresso, the detective reflected on what he knew about the colleague he was about to again meet.

D.C.I. Snapper had enjoyed a rapid rise through the ranks of the Metropolitan force, based on ability rather than political manoeuvring; he had already been promoted to detective-inspector by the unusually early age of thirty-five and was one of the youngest men ever to achieve his present rank. A loner by nature, Snapper pursued his police work with a passion that allowed no room for anything else. He had no hobbies that Rule knew of and few friends. Did he count, now, as a friend? he wondered. In contrast, while a successful and popular detective, Rule always did his best to ensure that his wife and teenage daughter did not feel that they always came second in his life.

Exactly at the agreed time, Snapper slowly entered, removing a battered hat different from his usual elegant trilby and removing a long raincoat that had also seen far better days. The two men shook hands firmly. After an exchange of pleasantries, whilst they waited for his espresso to be brought over by the middle-aged Italian proprietor, Rule noted that D.C.I. Snapper was wearing a very unusual tie: a globe pierced with a stiletto on a maroon background, which he explained, identified him as one of the top twelve detectives in the nation.

Snapper then began briefing his Cornish colleague about his current investigations. The first problem that he had encountered was the lack of co-ordinated intelligence. Indeed, there seemed to be a singular lack of urgency and even interest at the top of Scotland Yard in his task. Undeterred, he had soon realised that it would take a massive effort requiring a lot of expert support and had methodically put together a small dedicated team of top professionals in their specialisations. He had then given detailed instructions for his team whilst they prepared for the very difficult work ahead. They would, he had stressed, be up against a deadly and ruthless enemy. All of them would have to have regular handgun practice, it being unusual for British police to carry guns. Snapper’s team had had to become as highly proficient with firearms as their opponents were. That was, he smiled, why he had arranged for the same training for Rule, earlier that year.

“I had wondered about that, Snapper. My chief was most insistent.”

Security had to be strictly observed, Snapper continued; travel routes must vary each day and each member had to take all measures necessary to protect themselves and their families.

“I had to have many tedious lengthy meetings with top police lawyers but, eventually, I was able to persuade ‘em to accept the need to use criminals to catch bigger criminals. In the murky world of the London gangster, archbishops are thin on the ground! Plenty of such potential witnesses have been found and interviewed, but so far, without success. To give you an example, Rule, one man, who had been so badly beaten that he was disabled for life, when asked why he would not help put those responsible behind bars, told one of my team: ‘I hate the sight of blood, particularly my own.’”

The two detectives shared a quiet but bitter laugh. Both men were cool, deliberate professionals and neither underestimated the nature of the task that Snapper been given or the size of the problem facing him. They finished their coffees. The café was still empty.

“I’ll brief you more, this evening, Rule. It’s time for me to leave. You follow twenty minutes later and return to your hotel by a different route, hopping on and off ‘buses, as agreed. I’ll be in the secure ‘Black Cab’ that’ll collect you to take you to “Esmerelda’s Barn”, a nightclub in Knightsbridge, West London, but I won’t, of course, be coming in with you. I’ll be joining you later, well disguised. There’s a man I need to talk with this afternoon, first.”

They shook hands and Snapper, walking like a much older and frailer man, slowly weaved his way out of the café, after carefully placing some coins on the counter. The door closed. Rule then quickly bent down to pick up the folded newspaper that Snapper had left under the table and began reading.
« Last Edit: January 04, 2020, 11:20:20 AM by Chris in Prague, Reason: Corrected. »

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6582 on: January 04, 2020, 01:00:57 PM »
Curiouser and curiouser  :worried:
With kind regards
Laurence
My personal website is a bit of a mish mash: www.innovationgame.com
Coventry Corporation Transport Society: www.cct-society.org.uk
Hessle: www.hessle.org.uk

Offline Chris in Prague

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6583 on: January 04, 2020, 10:21:50 PM »
Curiouser and curiouser  :worried:

All will be revealed over the next few days. 8-)

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Re: Cant Cove (and Penmayne)
« Reply #6584 on: January 05, 2020, 07:52:36 PM »
As part of the round the clock surveillance that Snapper has put on “Esmerelda’s Barn”, a very attractive female Detective, new to London, had been placed in local tobacconists with orders to keep her eyes and ears open and befriend any gang members who came in regularly. It was not long before she was able to report to Snapper that a new member of ‘The Firm’ was calling in regularly to buy cigarettes, cigars, and pipe tobacco. He seemed a pleasant enough young man with a pronounced accent, she said, and usually called in just before the shop closed. The next day, Snapper had arranged to be waiting in the cramped stockroom behind the counter with a plainclothes policeman posing as a customer with orders to lock the shop door and pull down the blinds as soon as his female colleague gave the agreed signal. Snapper had not been surprised at how uncooperative the young man had proven to be. But, the evening before, he had received a message that, on his latest visit, the young man had seemed very agitated and worried about something but would not tell her. It was time Snapper decided for another one of his ‘little chats’.

 

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