Chapter 17 - Academic Pursuit

Nineteenth Century Gothic marked the University of Canterbury campus, a few blocks from the city centre in Christchurch. With police cars outside and uniformed officers guarding the exits, Biggles quickly found the section being used for the Shakespeare Conference and, with Gimlet beside him, was soon chatting to the lady at the registration desk.

'Do you often hold events like this here?' he asked.

'Not often,' she confessed. 'We're usually regarded as being rather off the beaten track to make anything international viable. Fortunately we have some wealthy benefactors from overseas, who have sponsored us.'

'Sir Simon Villiers-Silver wouldn't be one, I suppose,' remarked Gimlet.

'Why, yes. Are you acquainted with Sir Simon?'

'I visited his home in Somerset recently,' Gimlet said smoothly. 'I'll be glad to catch up with him again.'

'Well that's easy enough. For this evening the conference has broken up into group discussions on individual plays over in the English Department. Sir Simon is also there, having a little meeting with his fellow sponsors. I'm sure he won't mind you popping in. He's such a pleasant gentleman.'

'Thank you,' said Gimlet.

'Wonder how alert they'll be,' murmured Biggles as they set off, crossing a quad to the building in question. He noticed a young couple ardently embracing in a dark and private corner but no other signs of habitation. He looked around. There were about a dozen in the party, including the New Zealand police officers, who were with them. 'Better not make it look like an invasion,' he added softly. 'Captain King and I will go ahead just to make sure our people really are all in residence. You follow when you hear my whistle.'

Biggles and Gimlet moved silently up the stairs.

Minutes passed while the others stayed alert, just inside the entrance, waiting for the signal. A little knot of New Zealand police stood at the foot of the stairs with Ginger, whilst Copper, Trapper and Cub lurked silently nearby. Worrals and Frecks were by the front door, both beginning to feel uneasy. Frecks, struck by a sudden thought, gave a little gasp and scurried outside into the cloister-like quad for a moment.

'Just as I thought,' she said, returning. 'They're gone.'

'Who's gone?' Worrals enquired.

'That loving couple in the shadowy corner outside.'

'Hardly surprising,' Worrals commented. 'A peaceful spot transformed into Piccadilly Circus would frighten anyone away.'

'I suppose so,' Frecks agreed, doubtfully, 'but it did just strike me that they might be the precious pair who abducted me in London. And they did keep their faces hidden.'

'Not unusual when you're embracing,' said Worrals, drily, 'but it's been used before as a cover for observation.'

'I have a look, I think,' said Trapper, overhearing.

He went out. Seconds later all eyes turned to the staircase at the noise of many people descending. The senior policeman was clearly surprised but two uniformed officers accompanying the group promptly addressed him.

'Inspector Bigglesworth thought we should get all these people away from any possible danger,' said the first.

The inspector nodded and stepped back. Chattering freely, a host of academics walked through and outside. The sudden cascade of faces was bewildering but, in the midst of the flurry, Worrals thought she caught a glimpse of one she had seen before. Copper was beside her and she clutched his arm.

'Da Silva,' she hissed. 'I'm sure that was da Silva among that crowd.'

'Can't be,' Copper assured her. ''e'll still be upstairs with Biggles and Gimlet.'

Trapper returned.

'Frecks was right,' he announced. 'There's an electric wire running to that corner from this building and a bell-push at the end of it.'

'Then whoever was there could've given warning of our approach,' said Worrals. 'Come on Frecks, we've got to keep that little crowd under observation.'

'And I'd better check on the skipper,' decided Copper, grimly. He strode towards the stairs. Ginger joined him as Worrals and Frecks rushed out across the quad.

Most of the people who had come through were standing around on the pavement, continuing their conversations but a small group had detached itself from them and could be seen walking purposefully away. The policemen, who had accompanied them downstairs, were getting into a police car. They were about to drive away when Worrals ran up.

'That's the group we're after,' she cried, indicating the retreating figures.

'Are you sure, Miss?' the driver replied.

'I've seen one of them before. He's da Silva, one of the head men.'

'Very well, we'll check them out.'

'We'll come with you, then I can identify him.'

'Sorry Miss, too dangerous.' With Worrals fuming, the car sped away.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Biggles and Gimlet took a moment or two to locate the room where the meeting was taking place, ensuring that they were not about to burst in on one of the innocent discussions. A murmur of voices reached them. Knocking gently on the door, Biggles walked in.

A table dominated the room. Around it were seated five men and a woman. Biggles had met none of them but instantly recognised Sidlington from Ginger's description and the others from the photographs he had seen.

'Good evening,' he said. 'I'm sorry to intrude. I am Air Inspector Bigglesworth and this is Captain King, familiar to one of you, I believe.'

Gimlet smiled at Villiers-Silver, who acknowledged him with a brief nod and stared behind him, as if expecting to see someone else.

'Where is your friend, Captain Ashton?' he asked.

'Freddie? At home in Sussex I expect. Did you think he'd be with me?'

Gimlet noted with satisfaction the expression of exasperation that fleetingly crossed the other's face and wondered what resources had been wasted keeping his honourable and innocent friend under surveillance.

'I have some information, which may be of interest to you,' Biggles continued. 'Several arrests have been made these past few days. Some took place in Somerset, including your chauffeur, Sir Simon, and those now in custody have made a number of interesting statements – enough to implicate you in their activities.'

'I am not responsible for any failings of my chauffeur,' said Sir Simon, stiffly. 'I shall dismiss him from my service as soon as I return.'

'Others have been arrested for activities in and around a house owned by you. They also have visited your home from time to time.'

'Doubtless cronies of my chauffeur,' returned Villiers-Silver unabashed.

'I also have news from the Azores,' Biggles continued. 'I'm sure Mr da Silva will be pleased to know that certain police officers have been arrested, including a Captain Pereira. Just the faint suggestions of a communist link were enough to make Lisbon alert and eager to root out local corruption.'

'Good,' said da Silva, smoothly. 'I never had confidence in the man. He came to my house often and I always suspected his motivation.'

' Then there's Mr Sidlington,' Biggles added, 'who organised a machete welcome for me at his village.'

Sidlington stared unwaveringly at him.

'My dear fellow,' he said, 'what are you talking about? I was expecting you to visit me but you neglected my village. We were most disappointed.'

'You haven't sprung Crazy Jim this time,' Biggles said steadily.

'Crazy Jim!' Sidlington snorted, contemptuously. 'His name bespeaks him. The man's a menace and his brother's not much better.'

'The point is,' Villiers-Silver broke in, 'what do you require of us? We've come to New Zealand for this conference and here we are, having spent an agreeable week admiring the scenery. What a delightful country this is, by the way!'

'And you know nothing of any events today?'

'My dear chap, we've been here at the conference since first thing this morning. If someone's robbed a bank, we have fifty or sixty witnesses to vouch for the fact that it wasn't us.'

'Nevertheless you're still under arrest,' continued Biggles, ignoring the apparently unflappable demeanour of the group.

'On what charge?'

'Sabotage, incitement to violence, murder – there's quite a list.'

'My word!' exclaimed Sidlington, with a faint ironic smile. 'Well, I suppose we'd better accompany you. Is this the local constabulary you've brought with you?'

Biggles turned. Two uniformed police stood behind him.

'You're early,' he said, frowning slightly.

'Sorry sir,' said one. 'There's a problem below.'

Something about his manner alerted Biggles' suspicions.

'Let's see your warrant card,' he said.

'I have it here, sir.'

A gun appeared in his hand.

'You're quite right, Inspector Bigglesworth,' said Villiers-Silver. 'It is time for us to go. You may stay for a while.'

'I think you'll be more comfortable over this side of the room,' added Sidlington. 'Plenty of chairs to sit on. I'm sure your incarceration will not be prolonged.'

Biggles' gun was removed and he was tied hastily to a chair, Gimlet receiving the same treatment. They were clumsily gagged too. Then the others left, locking the door behind them. Furious at being so easily outmanoeuvred, Biggles struggled to free himself. As he did so he heard footsteps and voices outside the door, bubbling up for a moment, then gradually fading away. He was puzzled for a second and then remembered the group discussions that had been taking place. Presumably these had come to an end or, more likely, been terminated by Villiers-Silver on some pretext so that he and his associates could merge with the others and depart without comment. The thought added momentum to his straining wrists.

They had been tied up hastily but, nevertheless, vital minutes passed before Gimlet, utilising all his Commando experience, managed to free himself and Biggles too. Biggles immediately reached for his whistle but, before he could blow it, he heard the voices of Copper and Ginger outside.

'In here,' called Biggles. 'We're locked in.'

'I'll have to get a key from the registrar,' Ginger's voice replied.

'Don't worry about us – what about Villiers-Silver and co.?'

'Aren't they in there with you?'

'Of course not. They went off with a couple of fake policemen.'

''Swelp me, Worrals was right,' Copper gasped, the comment being followed by the sound of footsteps hastily descending the stairs.

'Just shows you how you can under-estimate the enemy,' Biggles sighed ruefully, as he and Gimlet got to their feet.

'Hope that cloth was clean, by gad,' said Gimlet, indicating his discarded gag. 'They can't get far, though, surely,' he added re-assuringly, 'and you couldn't cater for fake policemen being on hand. Pretty cool customers, though. Police all round the building so they simply pick up a crowd and stroll through.'

Footsteps sounded outside the door again and a key turned in the lock. Copper stood there and guided them swiftly out of the building and through to the street. Ginger was waiting in their car and they jumped aboard.

It was a short drive. Less than a minute later they stopped by other vehicles drawn up at the entrance to a huge park. Worrals and Frecks were there too and turned as Biggles rushed up.

'I thought I recognised da Silva,' Worrals reported, 'and told the police. They drove after them but all they did was stop at the head of the group, have a few words, then drive on, while the group turned into this park. So they're in here somewhere, but most of it's too dark to see.'

'Those weren't real police,' Biggles informed them.

'That explains it,' said Worrals.

'Maybe it's as well they didn't let us tag along then,' added Frecks, soberly. 'That could've been the second time I was taken for a ride.'

'Sidlington must've been there too,' Ginger groaned. 'I should have spotted him but I suppose they were all in the middle of the crowd and not easily seen.'

'I only caught a glimpse,' confirmed Worrals.

At that moment another noise became audible: the sound of rotor blades in swift revolution.

'Helicopter,' gasped Biggles and increased his pace but already it was clearly too late. A huge shape lifted into the air. Uniformed figures rushed forward, attempting to close on it, but halted baffled a good fifty yards or so short. There were some lights in the park but where the helicopter had been was now in darkness. Biggles could vaguely make out some trees and a small building beyond as the car headlights strained towards the area.

'Back to the cars,' he snapped. 'We must keep that helicopter in sight.'

'I'll alert all cars to keep a look-out,' said a senior policeman nearby, 'and we'll have one of our own copters up directly.'

'Where did that one come from?'

'Landed here earlier in the day. Said he had engine trouble. Been working on it all the afternoon.'

He rushed back to his car and hastily contacted his headquarters.

'Contingency plan, by gad,' said Gimlet, 'all laid on in case we found out where they were.'

'Fortunately I also have a contingency plan,' murmured Biggles, jumping in his car. 'I thought it might be useful to have someone airborne just in case we needed an eye overhead.'

He spoke rapidly into the radio and Bertie's voice acknowledged. Moments later a searchlight beam swept the sky.

'My heavens, that was quick work,' said Biggles approvingly. 'He can't get far now, surely. That light must catch him soon; he'll be on radar; Algy and Bertie can follow him wherever he goes and there are police cars on the ground, alert to where he lands. It ought to be just a matter of time.'

'Ought to be,' queried Gimlet as they drove off.

'They seem to be one step ahead of us all the time. I'm wondering what other cards they have to play. I'll contact Steeley at the airbase and let him know what's happened. Maybe he can get a plane up as well.'

He looked in his rear-view mirror.

'Where are the others?' he queried. 'They don't seem to be following.'

'Trapper had a hunch,' Gimlet said, enigmatically.

As Biggles had surmised, it didn't take long for the helicopter to be located and pursued. The roving searchlight caught it in its beam within minutes and Algy and Bertie homed in quickly.

'Did you see them at all?' asked Algy, when their quarry moved beyond the searchlight's range.

'Only the pilot,' replied Bertie. 'There are blinds over the other windows, keeping the passengers hidden. Wish these bally clouds would go; we could use some moonlight.'

The other helicopter now tried some evading manoeuvres but these were thwarted by a combination of radar and Algy's night-flying experience. Moreover they enabled a third helicopter, full of police, to catch up and station itself on the other side. In this formation they continued for several minutes, the first aircraft showing no signs of receiving or acknowledging radio signals from either its escort or the ground.

'Flying west,' muttered Algy. 'Hallo, he's going down. Hope they're keeping tabs down below.'

'He's expected too, by Jove,' Bertie exclaimed as the blackness beneath was suddenly punctuated by a circle of coloured lights.

'The police copter's going in first,' Algy informed him, 'in case there are more of Villiers-Silver's men on the ground.'

'Makes sense - only two of us and probably a half-dozen local police. It's their patch too, after all.'

'Couple of police cars not far away, apparently,' Algy continued. 'One behind us and one coming from the opposite direction. With any luck this'll be the grand finale.'

They watched the two other helicopters land, the second quickly following in the first, even though the lights went out as soon as the first one was down. This meant that Algy's descent was delayed until police torches illuminated a safe area for him to settle on. He and Bertie got out and one of the officers approached them.

'Just the pilot aboard,' he reported. He seemed about to say more but at that moment there was the sound of a vehicle starting up nearby and heading off at speed. A constable who had been checking on the road returned quickly.

'Dark van,' he called to them as he ran past. 'I got the number.'

He rushed over to the aircraft. Seconds later he could be vaguely observed in the uncertain light speaking urgently into the radio.

'There aren't any roads going off this one for quite a way,' the first officer told Algy. If that vehicle is part of the getaway plan, our two cars should corner it before long.' He frowned. 'I don't understand how anyone could have got away from that copter so quickly, though. I know we had to land by torchlight, which delayed us slightly, but there were no more lights on the ground. If they have escaped to that vehicle, they must have run blind in the dark without a false step. The pilot says he was alone and landed because he was having more engine trouble. Saw the lights and took a chance, he says. Didn't give a thought to the pair of us accompanying him all the way from Christchurch, apparently.'

'Maybe we got the wrong copter, old boy,' Bertie murmured to Algy as they approached the others. His voice hardened suddenly as they drew nearer. 'No we haven't,' he snapped, his eyes on the stocky figure of the apparently bewildered pilot. 'The last time I saw this particular aviator, his pal pulled a gun on me when I asked to see his licence.'

One of the police cars radioed through soon after. They had found the van quietly parked in a picnic area nearby. There was no sign of its driver or any passengers. Algy strode over to the pilot, now under arrest.

'Murder of an associate and attempted murder of a police officer,' he stated, 'that's what you're faced with. Meanwhile you've helped your bosses to escape scot-free. I'd have a word or two to say about them if I were you, especially where they are now.'

The man glowered at Bertie but said nothing. Algy sighed.

'We'd better tell Biggles,' he decided and he and Bertie returned to their helicopter.

'It looks as if they may have stayed on the ground all the time,' Bertie considered morosely. 'Simply strolled out after everyone else had gone. They must be laughing up their sleeves.'

The huge park was silent now, apart from the occasional outcry of ducks. It was one of these that had alerted Trapper to the possibility that the area might still be inhabited. He was investigating now while Copper, Worrals and Frecks waited in a car nearby. Though on the alert, Worrals was still startled by Trapper's sudden arrival, looming into view without any apparent warning and sliding noiselessly into the front seat, cautioning silence as he did so.

'Voila!' he whispered softly a moment later. The main road that ran through the edge of the park was still busy but they noticed a black van pulling up a hundred yards or so in front of them. Out of the darkness six figures emerged as calmly as if they had just completed an evening stroll and climbed into the back. Copper started the engine but a lorry came past before he could pull out and the vehicle had already driven away before they could come up with it. Trapper radioed Biggles as they began the pursuit.

The van turned off the main road and proceeded unhurriedly along grass-lined back streets, drawing up after a few minutes by a small fenced wood. There was a gate leading into this area which would normally be locked, Worrals presumed, but was now open. The six figures, flicking on torches, moved through this gate and into the wood. Copper leapt out to follow but a man and a woman also appeared from the front of the van and both carried guns. Frecks nodded sagely as she saw them.

'Just as I thought,' she grated. 'That's my loving couple.'

The pair was backing towards the gate.

'Don't come any nearer,' warned the man. 'It wouldn't be healthy.'

'What's the point of this?' queried Copper. 'Your little organisation's all washed up. Time to abandon ship.'

Ignoring this advice, the woman turned and dashed through the gate and into the darkness, her torch pecking out the path in front of her.

'Follow us and you'll meet some lead coming the other way,' the man warned and, slamming the gate, rushed after her.

He was as good as his word for Copper, vaulting over, had to dive flat as two bullets whistled past him. From this position, though, he was able to open the gate again, enabling Trapper to come crawling through.

'Watch what you're doing, pal,' Copper warned as Trapper began to move stealthily along the path.

'Unless he sees in darkness, I won't be a target again,' muttered Trapper, accustoming his eyes to the lack of light.

Biggles, meanwhile, was not as far away as he might have been, deciding that there were sufficient forces available to deal with the helicopter whenever it came to rest and electing instead to adopt Trapper's theory. By the time the chase began he had already dropped Gimlet off to join Cub, waiting in a third car by another entrance to the park, and Steeley had arrived overhead in the fourth helicopter to take to the air that evening. Steeley, in fact, was able to follow the progress of the pursuit.

'It looks like that patch of bush has another entrance,' he reported, hovering nearby. He gave quick directions and the two cars immediately diverted accordingly. Worrals, listening in, called out to Copper who, with no more firing from within the wood, returned to the car.

'Hunting in the dark is something Trapper's better at on 'is own,' he confided. 'We'll 'old tight for a bit in case they try to slip back.'

Worrals reported this and they awaited instructions.

Trapper, indeed, was moving at pace along the short bush walk, without giving those ahead of him any inkling of his presence. There was a light at the other entrance and the young man turned warily, gun levelled, to face the way he had come. Trapper reached for his catapult and sent a sharp stone on its way to smash against the other's hand with such force that he dropped the gun. He rubbed his wrist for a crucial second, then, realising that Trapper was almost on him, abandoned the weapon and fled, leaping into the third of three cars drawn up outside, which drove off at pace to Trapper's disgust.

This exit was on a sharp corner and almost immediately he was aware of other cars approaching as first Biggles and Ginger and then Gimlet and Cub skidded by.

'Stay put, Trapper,' Gimlet yelled at him as he swerved past. 'Copper's coming round.'

The first three cars turned into a major road nearby but not all in the same direction so that Biggles found himself on the tail of one car whilst Gimlet followed the other two. Hardly had they disappeared than Copper came screeching up and Trapper jumped aboard.

'Left,' he said immediately as they reached the main road. 'Gimlet may need help.'

'Steeley's keeping an eye open for them from above,' Copper informed him. 'And Algy and Bertie are back to keep tabs on Biggles' progress.'

Gimlet came on the radio.

'Turn right at the lights in the middle of the shopping centre,' he said. 'The red Holden has gone that way. It was caught in traffic so you won't be far behind it. I hope we're really following the right people this time.'

'They're all there,' Trapper confirmed. 'I caught a glimpse of some familiar faces as they drove off – and I would have sensed anyone left in the wood. Tiens, but for our eyes in the air they would have fooled us again.'

Copper swerved through the lights at amber and began the chase. Possibly those in front may have thought they had shaken off their pursuers for, within a minute or two, the car came in sight, its sharp increase in speed showing that Copper's vehicle had been recognised. Indeed, approaching traffic lights changing to red suggested that the pursuit was over but the car kept going, unexpectedly sounding a siren which caused the traffic about to cross its path to pause, anticipating one of the emergency services. Unimpeded it swept through the crossroads and carried on. Copper, with no such facility, pounded his horn but this was unsuccessful and he had to skid to a halt as a large lorry pulled across in front of him. By the time the lights had changed the car had vanished.

A mile away Biggles was gaining on the car he was following. It was the one carrying da Silva, Sir Simon and the young couple. That the latter were aboard was quickly evident in a quiet street when the woman's face appeared at the nearside back window and her lover's at the off side. Both dropped objects on the road. Instinctively Biggles swung the wheel, desperate to avoid them, and had just swerved past when two explosions in quick succession flung the car forward, showering the inside with glass. Out of control for a second the vehicle received a glancing blow from a stolid tree and came to a halt on the grassy verge of the pavement.

'Are you all right?' gasped Biggles.

'Gave my head a bump on the windscreen but otherwise I'm okay,' Ginger confirmed. 'Only just recovered from that confounded coconut, too. Nice young lady, isn't she?'

'I expected some sneaky manoeuvres when we got close but I must confess I wasn't prepared for hand grenades. I suppose I should have done bearing in mind what nearly happened to us at the beginning of this affair.'

An anxious Bertie came through from overhead. Thankful that the radio was still working, Biggles re-assured him.

'They're still in sight, old boy,' Bertie added. 'Looks as if it's safer from the air.'

Trapper reported at this moment and Cub came on soon after. Gimlet's quarry had scurried across a level crossing just before the gates closed for a long goods train to trundle through on its way to the port.

'I don't know what shape this car's in now,' Biggles informed them. 'I'll see if it makes it back to the base. That's when all these anxious residents pouring into the street allow me to move. Then I might try flying again. Keep going. Algy and Steeley still have two of the cars in their sights.'

'There must be local drivers on board,' chimed in Steeley from his helicopter. 'My one's doing a tour of the back streets. No chance of catching up with him on the ground.'

In the other aircraft, Bertie was concentrating hard to keep the car Biggles had been pursuing under observation, making comments as he did so those on the ground could continue the pursuit. They were on the edge of the city now.

'I'll need to snatch some more altitude,' commented Algy. 'There are hills ahead.'

'Must be the ones between the city and the port,' said Bertie. 'I say, old boy, do you think they're heading for the harbour?'

'Maybe, though I don't think this is the quickest way.'

The view of the car was reduced to headlights now, sweeping a tiny passage through the dark. Soon Steeley reported that the car he was tracking was moving in the same direction. Bertie snatched a glance behind him.

'I think I can see a third set of headlights on that road,' he noted. 'Looks as if they're all heading for the same destination.'

From the two pursuing cars, now together, came acknowledgement of the directions and an estimate that they were perhaps five to ten minutes behind. The three sets of lights, about a couple of minutes driving apart, continued over the port hills and began their descent.

Biggles came through. A police car was setting off from Lyttelton to try to intercept.

'It'll be a brave officer who attempts that,' voiced Algy. 'It's neck or nothing for this ruthless sextet now. If they're prepared to throw bombs at Biggles, they won't be calmly flagged down by a solitary police car. And Gimlet's group is too far behind to be in time to take a hand.'

The headlights below carried on. Another set became visible, moving away from the port. Bertie watched anxiously as they slowly converged but the police car was still some way off when the third car passed where he judged the turn off must be.

'Not going to Lyttelton,' he radioed. 'They're heading straight on.'

From the ground Gimlet acknowledged this new information, which was also conveyed to the approaching police.

'Don't want them stopping our boys by mistake,' commented Bertie.

Steeley, hovering over the spot, reported that the police car had now turned in pursuit, slightly ahead of Gimlet. Now one trio of lights was being pursued by another.

This continued for some minutes before the first set, now in close order, stopped. There was a small settlement here and Bertie was able to see figures moving swiftly towards the water. Soon afterwards a boat set off into the harbour. The cars dispersed in different directions.

'Quite a fast craft,' Bertie assessed, picking up its outlines from the lights of the harbour opposite. 'Some kind of modern yacht, I should think.'

'Looks as if we should have something on the water to pursue it,' reasoned Algy, 'but we'd better make sure they're not trying the same kind of stunt they pulled in the park. They might be in the boat but equally they might still be in the cars or even on foot, hiding behind a tree again'

'Too true, old boy,' murmured Bertie, watching the yacht's lengthening wake as it progressed towards the sea. 'They must know we're here.'

He listened carefully to the radio for a moment and acknowledged the message.

'Biggles is back at base,' he told Algy, 'debating what sort of plane to fly and lamenting the loss of the Gadfly. They're preparing a fast police launch to chase the yacht but Biggles agrees with us that this might be another decoy, though we can't ignore it in case that's what we're meant to think. Wonder if Gimlet will find anything when he arrives.'

Following the directions from above, Gimlet stopped at the berth where the two policemen from the patrol car were looking around. Copper pulled up beside him and Gimlet came over.

'Take a look, Trapper. See if there are any signs. Cub can go with you, Copper. Carry on for a bit and see if you come across anything. No point in all of us stooging around here.'

With Cub now beside him, Copper drove on slowly. Gimlet and Trapper went over to the two policemen. They had a brief conversation before Trapper studied the area around the tiny wharf. He reached for his torch and stood up.

'There are many footprints here,' he said. 'Two women. Ah,' he added. 'They come up to the berth and then they move off to the right.'

There was a narrow path running through bushes by the water's edge. Trapper followed this carefully for a few minutes until he reached another small wharf. Some boats were tied up against this but one berth was empty.

'The tracks finish here,' he announced.

'A second boat,' Gimlet concluded. 'The police estimate they arrived within a few minutes of the yacht sailing so this other craft must have set off very soon after or they would have heard it. What sort of vessel, I wonder – and where is it? I've lost the lights of the yacht amongst those of the harbour.'

There was a sharp bark nearby. Looking round they saw an elderly man walking his dog, a black Labrador.

'Gudday,' he greeted them cheerily. 'Looking for a boat?'

'I am but I haven't found it,' Gimlet confessed, ruefully. 'Are there any others usually tied up here?'

'There's been an old fishing-boat there for the past few days. That's missing. Can't have been gone long. She was there earlier this evening.'

At Gimlet's urging he gave a very brief description of the vessel.

'You've been very helpful,' Gimlet said at length. 'Thanks very much.'

'She's right,' said the man, whose dog was becoming restless, and the pair continued on their way. Leaving Trapper to see if he could find any other clues, particularly anything that might suggest that the man was mistaken, Gimlet returned to his car and reported what he had found and heard. Before he had finished, Copper drove up.

'Found one of the cars,' he announced. 'The one we chased through Christchurch. Just a little way up the road – abandoned.'

Gimlet added this to his transmission and signed off. Hearing Copper's news the police decided to inspect the car.

'Leave Cub and the ladies here and take Trapper with you,' Gimlet decided, explaining quickly where Trapper could be found. Copper's passengers alighted and Copper drove off, the police car behind him.

'Not much of a role for us in all this,' complained Worrals, as she and Frecks slid into the back seat.

'The activity from now on is likely to be air and sea,' commented Gimlet. 'You may be needed aloft.'

Biggles came through again.

'Algy thinks the old fishing-boat might be the one that was brought over on the ship from the Chatham Islands carrying all the Mig parts,' he said. 'We know it was transported to that makeshift assembly line they had but we never checked on whether it came back or not. Evidently it did. Steeley confirms there was no sign of it during his little visit.'

'That looks like the answer,' Gimlet agreed. 'While the yacht makes all the waves and draws the pursuit, the fishing-boat chugs quietly out to sea, probably without lights. Lots of cloud too. Just what they want.'

'Yes,' Biggles agreed. 'It might take some finding.'