To Touch the Clouds : The Frontier Series 5 (5 page)

Patrick announced dinner would be served and Matthew escorted Fenella to the place at the table marked for her beside Guy Wilkes. In turn, all members and guests of the Macintosh family took their places at the long, polished timber table which glistened under the flicker of the rows of candles placed along the centre. Expensive silverware lined the table beside crystal goblets.

When all had taken their place, Patrick stood to give a welcoming speech and reached for his goblet of wine. ‘To the King,’ he said, raising his glass. All stood to raise their glasses in the traditional toast to the monarch. ‘And to those who have in the past given their lives for the Empire.’

A mumbled repetition of Patrick’s words echoed in the large, candle-lit room. Chairs scraped as people resumed their seats. Two maids entered the room to ladel soup into
the bowls in front of the guests. Matthew and Randolph had found themselves seated near Patrick and Colonel Hughes. All were soon introduced to each other and the various courses of the evening came and went in an atmosphere of light conversation, jokes and laughter.

As the plates for the final course were cleared away, Patrick once again rose to his feet and cleared his throat. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said. ‘I think it is time that the men withdrew to partake in cigars and port. Guy and George, I think that you should keep the ladies company so that we do not appear to be just old chauvinists. Thank you.’

Patrick turned to Matthew and Randolph. ‘Gentlemen,’ he quietly said, ‘I think this is the time to have a discreet conversation in my library with Colonel Hughes.’

Patrick closed the door behind him and took down a decanter of port from a shelf. He distributed port glasses and opened a silver box of fine cigars. All four men helped themselves.

‘Take a seat, gentlemen,’ Patrick gestured, his lit cigar in one hand and port glass in the other.

All found large, comfortable, high-backed leather chairs and sank into them. ‘I would like to say how good it is to have you both as my guests,’ he continued, addressing Matthew and Randolph. ‘It is no accident that I should catch up with you after so many years, Matthew.’

‘We were wondering, Colonel . . .’ Matthew said, taking a swig of the good port served.

‘Possibly I should intervene here,’ John Hughes said. ‘It was I who prompted Patrick to contact you after a conversation a couple of years ago in Greece with an old politician
friend of mine, Winston Churchill. Winnie also likes a good port and we were discussing some matters when he happened to mention a young Australian colonial with an interest in flying aeroplanes and his Yankee companion who had delivered him an excellent report on that war between the Italians and Ottomans in Libya. He was especially interested in the young colonial’s views on the Italian use of dirigibles and aircraft to drop bombs on the Turks. Anyone come to mind?’ Hughes asked with the trace of a smile on his face.

Both Matthew and Randolph noticeably squirmed in their chairs at the question.

‘I knew Mr Churchill had been a correspondent in South Africa when I was there,’ Matthew replied. ‘He had also been a soldier before that and I had read of his interest in military matters, particularly the navy. We were not far from Greece so I thought the British might have an interest in what we saw in Libya and Tobruk.’

‘I must say that your observations about the successful defence of Tobruk against the Italians by some young Turkish captain by the name of Mustafa Kemal was very interesting, considering it was written by someone who had never held a commission in the army.’ Hughes continued, ‘You should consider taking one in Colonel Duffy’s Sydney regiment in the future.’

‘I was once a soldier, sir,’ Matthew replied. ‘Some things on the battlefield are universal – like recognising military skill in a leader.’

‘Well said,’ Patrick interrupted. ‘Do not think that we are in disagreement regarding your invaluable work assisting the Empire. On the contrary, we feel that you are far more valuable to our cause than you realise. I presume what you two observed has also been passed on to our American friends.’

‘Colonel, if Texas is going to share the dangers then he shares the information. Yes, he has passed on our observations to his government. I feel that in the future we may have to turn to the other side of the Pacific for help against future enemies.’

‘Highly unlikely the Yanks will rush to assist us in the event of a war in Europe,’ Hughes said, puffing on his cigar.

‘I was thinking about enemies in this part of the world,’ Matthew replied. ‘I feel that the Japanese may one day pose us a serious threat, considering their extraordinary navy and the rise of military influence in their society as a result of giving the Russkies a good thrashing. I dare say that one day they will be forced to seek territories in the Pacific region if they are to sustain their growing industries and population.’

‘What you say might have merit,’ Patrick mused, aware that Matthew and Randolph had spent some time living in Japan. ‘In a sense that is why we are having this conversation. I already know that you are certain war will break out in Europe and that Britain will be drawn into any conflict there. That means us as well.’

‘You Australians do not have to rush to defend British interests,’ Randolph said quietly. ‘After all, if the Limeys get into a shoot-out with the Austro-Hungarian Empire and its German allies, that does not really concern you guys over here. You would be better off staying out of it and making a fortune supplying both sides.’

‘I am afraid we would not have any choice in the event of a war between England and Germany,’ Hughes said. ‘I cannot reveal sources but we do know of a German plan authorised by the Kaiser to attack eastern seaboard settlements in Australia in the event of war between Germany and England. The Imperial German Navy stationed in China has been tasked to make raids on the coast from Gladstone
to Hobart and also on New Zealand centres of population. They see Gladstone – and Westport in New Zealand – as sources of coal for their shipping. Any bombardments of our settled areas could mean a severe cost to life and property that would force England to send a substantial part of its navy here to counter the threat. That would then weaken any chance of placing a blockade on German war supplies in the Atlantic. In the event of war we will be well and truly committed. Our first task will be to cripple all German bases in the Pacific to prevent the Imperial German Navy putting its operational plan into action. That is where you two come into the scheme of things.’ Hughes paused to observe the reaction of Matthew and Randolph and allow Patrick to take over the conversation.

Patrick sipped his port and leaned forward towards Matthew. ‘You are a civilian and not under any military jurisdiction. But of all the men I know I feel that you and Randolph are the most capable to carry out a mission for your country and the British Empire that could just prevent the Germans from carrying out their bloody plans to kill innocent men and women here. You see, Colonel Hughes and I go back a long way in our army careers and we are both thought of as unconventional outsiders. I suppose that is why we have included you two in an operational plan that is not exactly sanctioned by either the British or Australian governments. It involves a very touchy subject – espionage, and probably sabotage to boot.’

Matthew took a deep breath and glanced at Randolph who made a slight shrug of his shoulders. ‘You already know that my ideas on the use of aircraft in war are somewhat unaccepted at this time,’ Matthew replied. ‘Then, I guess that I am in good company.’

Both Patrick and John Hughes broke into smiles,
raising their glasses to Randolph and Matthew. ‘Gentlemen, welcome to the dirty world of spying,’ Patrick toasted.

‘Believe me,’ Hughes said, ‘you will receive no glory or even recognition for what you are about to do. You may even end up dead and buried in some place none will know of. Be assured, what you will be briefed on could change the course of history in our favour and save countless lives for the King and his Empire.’

‘As a citizen of the good ol’ USA, I am kind of not doing it for your king and his empire,’ Randolph cut across the stirring words. ‘But I will do it for my cobber, Matthew Duffy.’

Matthew took Randolph’s hand and gripped it. ‘Thanks, old chap.’

‘And now to what we need you to do for us,’ Patrick said, rising from his chair and walking over to a desk. He removed a map from a drawer. Spreading the map on the table he held down the edges with the decanter of port and his own glass. The other three men clustered around. On the map of the South West Pacific the German-occupied territories were highlighted.

‘Here,’ said Patrick, stabbing with his cigar at a place Matthew could see marked as the town of Rabaul in the German territory of Neu Pommern, ‘is the target.’

Fenella and Coral were engrossed in a conversation about current fashions. George was bored and found Guy’s prattle about fashions for men equally as dull and inane. He sipped very little of his port wine as imbibing alcohol was something that held little interest for him – partly because he had strict rules for his workers to remain sober and felt he at least should set an example and partly because he knew
the over-use of alcohol inhibited his ability to make clear decisions. He wondered at the meeting being conducted behind closed doors in his father’s library. Why were the two guests in attendance? George knew that his father was somewhat careless when it came to concealing documents in his library, however, and was sure that in time he would, in a roundabout way, learn of the matters being secretly discussed. As business manager of the family companies George considered that he must know of everything his father was involved in, especially if he were to be on top of matters, even the military matters his father dabbled in. George turned to Guy and noticed that the man appeared to be fidgeting more than usual.

‘If you will excuse me, ladies,’ Guy said. ‘I must leave your company for a moment.’

George watched the actor depart the room and noticed that he was not going in the direction of the mansion’s bathroom. He waited a moment before also excusing himself to follow the path taken by Guy and found himself outside on the dimly lit verandah overlooking the harbour. At the far end Guy was sitting in one of the comfortable cane chairs. As George approached him he noticed that the man was sitting, staring with vacant eyes at the lights of the boats still plying the harbour waters.

‘Is everything all right, old chap?’ George asked, but Guy was slow to react to his presence. George closed the distance until he was an arm’s length away. In the seated man’s lap was a small brown paper sheet. On it George could see a powdery white substance and from his experience dealing with slum tenants he had a good idea what it was.

‘How do you administer heroin?’ George asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

Guy glanced up at him, focusing his eyes. ‘I snort it,’ he
replied, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. ‘It helps with the pain. But that is something private, old boy.’

George sat down in an adjoining cane chair. ‘Does my sister use the stuff?’

Guy turned to him with an expression of euphoria. ‘Your sister does not know that I have recourse to Mr Bayer’s fine product. She is a very moral lady.’

Not if she is with you, George thought, but refrained from verbalising his view. Instead he said, ‘That is good to hear.’ A secret smile crossed George’s face, unseen by Guy. ‘I would like to talk to you about something I expect you to keep to yourself.’

‘What would that be?’ Guy asked, carefully rewrapping the white powder in the brown paper sheet.

‘I expect that you will be told in the next twenty-four hours that you no longer have a job. You may find yourself out on the streets.’

Despite his feelings of wellbeing, Guy reacted to the statement with a visible look of alarm.

‘Because of my use of heroin?’ he asked.

‘No, no,’ George said, raising his hand reassuringly. ‘I do not judge a man’s private life,’ he lied. ‘Your employer, Arthur Thorncroft, is up to his neck in debt and will probably be bankrupt very soon. He does not have the funds to finish his film.’

‘What can be done?’ Guy asked, turning to George.

‘I was hoping that you would ask that,’ George replied with a smile. ‘But I will need you to do me a personal favour. I can assure you it will be worth a lot more money to you than what Arthur is currently paying you. I have only one question: how much money would it take for you to fall out of love with my sister?’

George’s question startled Guy. He blinked, his mind
muddled by the effects of the opiate. ‘That is a strange question,’ he said slowly. ‘I doubt that you would have enough money to make me give up Nellie.’

‘So you admit that money might change your mind,’ George said, sensing that the man on the verandah was essentially a weak, vain man who could be bought. ‘How about the figure of two thousand pounds.’

Guy’s eyes widened. It was a small fortune, a lot more than he made working as an actor. ‘I would have to think about it,’ he mumbled, breaking into a sweat.

‘You have until you leave tonight,’ George said, rising from his chair. ‘After that, you will not only be out of a job, but will not hear my offer again. It is your only real option.’

‘Is that what giving up your sister will cost?’ Guy asked.

‘I did not say that,’ George replied. ‘I asked how much it would cost to fall out of love with my sister – not leave her.’

Confused, Guy stared at the dim figure before him. ‘What would you expect of me – if I accepted your offer?’

‘If you take my money then I expect that you will honour what I ask of you,’ George replied, walking away. ‘Just give me your answer before you leave tonight.’

Randolph was pleased to be back in the company of Fenella when the meeting was over. He was even more pleased to see that she was alone.

‘Mr Gates,’ Fenella said, smiling at the American, ‘I see that my father has released you to our company.’

‘Your father is a very interesting and charming man,’ Randolph replied. ‘But I must confess that so are you.’