The clouds remember

Biggles

In

"The Secret Bunker."

Biggles and his friends are now retired and living on Guernsey in the Channel Islands.  They own a large estate in the former Fort George, which overlooks the harbour of St. Peter Port.

They accidentally get involved in a plot hatched by former German Nazis.  The KGB, Russian Intelligence, shows a lot of interest in the Nazis and last, but not least, the Israeli Intelligence Service, The Mossad, is also actively involved.

With the help of Erich von Stalhein, for so many years their implacable enemy but now their friend, they manage to help 2 Israeli agents, the beautiful, blue-eyed blonde Merav Manor and her colleague, Mordechai Levi, to solve the so-called “Fritsch Complot” concocted by former Nazis.

The story comes to its climax in the steamy jungle of Dutch Surinam.

Chapter1

Evil practices on the Channel Islands

Former Air Detective Inspector Major James Bigglesworth, DSO, DFC, RAF Retired, better known to his friends as “Biggles”, entered the breakfast room and took a seat at the table, where his friends and housemates, Algy, Bertie and Ginger, were already enjoying breakfast.

“Any news this morning?” he asked the others. Algy lowered the Guernsey Post. “If there's any interesting news in this morning's paper I've yet to find it. Everything is as dull as dull can be.”

“It used to be better when we were working,” grumbled Ginger “If only we still had our jobs at the Yard.”

“I don't agree, old boy," said Bertie with a smile. "Now I have so much more time to play golf.  I think I'm improving my handicap,” he added, spreading a piece of toast with marmalade.

“Can't you lot ever rest?" asked Biggles exasperated. "Why can't you enjoy your retirement in peace? I, for one, can't work forever, I don't know about you," said Biggles pouring himself a cup of tea.

There was no doubt Ginger was right. Things had changed since they all retired from the Yard.

When Biggles reached retirement age, the others, except for Ginger, also decided to retire. Ginger did not want to take charge of the department, so due to Biggles' not inconsiderable influence he was given, exceptionally, extended leave.

The department was taken over by Inspector James “Jolly” Jones and his second in command, Adjutant Kevin Raymond, Air Commodore Raymond’s nephew,

both of whom were pilots with Sergeants “Jumping” Jack Smyth, Dennis Harcourt and Mike Slade backing them up. They all acted as observers.

Also new to the office was the secretary Cindy Trenchard whose duty was answering the phone and running the office administration.

Air Commodore Raymond took this opportunity to retire too and his job was taken over by Sir Alexander Stone, himself also a retired RAF Air Commodore, who had previously been stationed on Cyprus.

Biggles handed over his department after he felt that everything was running smoothly and he could leave everything in safe hands.  He felt he could now look forward into the future with full confidence.  Then, with mixed emotions, they retired.

Back home with time on their hands, they decided to make a World trip and visit all the friends they had made during their previous adventures.  Biggles also wanted to write his memoirs.

During all the years they had worked, Biggles and his friends had amassed a small fortune through their adventures, which they had carefully saved.  Algy Lacey and Bertie Lissie were already quite wealthy, thanks to their various inheritances, although death duties had made serious inroads into the capital sum.

The Mount street apartment was re-furnished and sold to a retired Army Major.
The decision to sell the Mount Street apartment was not taken lightly, but they felt they wanted to live in a fresh and healthy environment and London was far from being that.

Once, during one of their spells of leave, they had visited the Channel Islands, situated between Britain and France, and they had all been captivated by the beautiful surroundings and the sub-tropical climate of the Channel Islands.
They decided unanimously that they would like to live on Guernsey, which was quieter than Jersey.  It had many advantages.  Guernsey Aerodrome was well equipped and Bertie’s yacht, The Viscount I, could conveniently be moored in the harbour of St. Peter Port.

Accordingly, they ordered an estate agent to find them something to suit their tastes.  It took the estate agent a few weeks to find a suitable property for the four friends but finally they settled on a large, centrally heated apartment block in the former Fort George overlooking the harbour and sea. 

The property was equipped with 8 large rooms, 3 bathrooms and a large kitchen and a double garage, built under the estate.
Fort George was one of the many fortresses on Guernsey. Of this fort only the walls were remaining and within these walls, large self-contained apartment blocks with marvellous views were built. A private guard, for security and to discourage unwanted visitors, guarded the fort.

As they could not imagine giving up flying altogether, they bought two aeroplanes. A Britten-Norman BN-2 “Islander” and a small Grumman Goose, an amphibious aircraft. Both planes were kept at Guernsey Aerodrome.

Bertie and Algy were making plans to take a trip with the Viscount I.  They had a hankering to revisit old haunts and cruise to Monaco.  None of them could imagine as they made their preparations, that their plans would have to be postponed for a while.

Biggles took a sip of his tea and helped himself to a section of Algy's morning paper and started reading.  Around 9 o clock Sheila Ferris, the housekeeper, entered the room.

“Good morning Gentlemen. Did you all sleep well?” she asked.

“Oh yes, very well, thank you, Mrs Ferris,” replied Biggles while the others nodded their agreement.

Sheila Ferris did not live in.  She preferred her own house nearby in a part of Guernsey called Vale. With her husband Rick she lived in a small cottage of their own near the sea. Next door to the cottage they had converted their garage into a small holiday home for tourists.

During the week she acted as housekeeper and prepared lunch and dinner for Biggles and his friends.  At the weekends the four comrades would go out for dinner in one of the island's many restaurants.

Ginger was the first to leave the breakfast table, intending to catch up on his correspondence while Algy and Bertie were close behind, bound for Viscount I in the harbour, leaving Biggles to finish his breakfast alone.

“If you want to clear away, that's fine with me, Mrs Ferris," said Biggles. "I’ll be off in a minute.”

“You don't have to hurry, sir," she told him. "If you can spare me a minute, I'd like to have a word with you about something strange that has been happening lately to some tourists who are renting our holiday home.”

Biggles folded the paper and threw it on a chair.  "Sit down, Mrs Ferris.  Would you like cup of tea?” offered Biggles.

“Thank you, sir, I'd love one. That's most kind of you.”

Biggles poured her a cup of tea and watched her sip it appreciatively.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, his curiosity aroused.

“Well, Sir," she started hesitantly. "You being a sort of Police Officer, I thought maybe you would understand something about this. As you know, I let our holiday home to tourists during the season.  Two weeks ago, two German tourists booked it for six weeks.  That in itself is quite unusual. Most tourists only want it for two weeks at the most. But it all seemed above board and they paid me in advance.  They even took an option for another six weeks."

Biggles stirred his tea thoughtfully as she continued,  "every morning they would leave very early with their hired car and come back home again very late at night. This went on regular as clockwork until a week last Sunday. They left as usual in the morning, but they still haven't come back. I went into the let last night and all their stuff is still there. They'd left food in the larder and it was all tainted, I had to clean it up.  Last night we had a phone call.  It was my husband, Rick, who answered it.  He said it was a person with a strange foreign accent asking questions about the two Germans.  Whoever it was didn't introduce himself or anything.

When Rick told the caller that we hadn't seen the Germans, they just hung up.”

Biggles lit a cigarette while he thought about what she had told him.

“Can you let me have the names of these Germans, Mrs. Ferris?” he asked her, blowing smoke at the ceiling.

“Yes, of course. I have them here in my handbag, in case you asked.” Mrs. Ferris opened her handbag and after rummaging for a moment or two, handed Biggles two index cards with the names of the Germans filled in.

Biggles thanked her and promised that he would look into it right away.  He studied the names on the cards.
Carl Alfred Schmidt, born Stuttgart, 16th March 1924 and Hans Werner Dietrich, born Travemunde, 29th July 1917. According to the information, they both lived at 118, Brantmeyergasse, Wolfsburg, West Germany.  Both passport numbers had been filled in on the card.
Suddenly the telephone in the hall started ringing. Slightly irritated by the interruption to his thought processes, Biggles stood up and answered the phone.

A moment later he came back into the breakfast room. “That was your husband,

Mrs Ferris," he announced. "He wants you to come home as soon as possible. He said there has been a break-in at your holiday home.”
“ Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her hand on her heart.  "What on earth is happening?” she asked anxiously.

At that moment, Ginger came into the breakfast room, a bunch of letters in his hand.

“What's going on?" he wanted to know when he saw Mrs Ferris looking so worried.

“There was a burglary at her home last night," Biggles explained. Put your coat on and take Mrs Ferris home. You'd better stay and give her any help she needs,” ordered Biggles. “I'll make some inquiries at the Yard. There have been some strange things happening lately at the Ferris home, which I think need urgent investigation.”

“Ok,” agreed Ginger, fetching his coat from the hall and accompanying Mrs Ferris to her home.

When Ginger had disappeared, Biggles walked into the hall and dialled the number of the Yard. When he was connected with his former department he asked Cindy Trenchard to put him through to Commodore Stone.

“Hello Biggles,” greeted the Commodore warmly when Biggles announced himself, “Can't keep away, eh?  Are you regretting your retirement already?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but no, sir" replied Biggles, "but I do need some information on a couple of Germans who have gone missing here in Guernsey under very peculiar circumstances.”

Biggles told the Commodore everything that had happened at Guernsey and asked him to run an international CID check on both Germans. The Commodore took all the details and promised to ring back the same day when he had gathered all the information.

Biggles put the phone down and walked into the kitchen to put the kettle for a cup of coffee. A few minutes later he was back in the living room with a mug of steaming fresh coffee on a tray.   He sat drinking reflectively, his mind on the problem.  After he had finished the drink, he went back to the hall and phoned the local Police station and asked for Inspector Snowdon le Cornu. He was lucky to find le Cornu on duty.

“Good morning Snowy, Biggles here. How is life?” he queried.

“Well to be honest," replied le Cornu, "I have quite a tricky problem on my hands right now. We've just pulled a stiff out of the water. An unknown man, 45-50 years of age. He's very dead, but he was shot, not drowned. We haven't got anything to go on. There were no papers in his pockets, no wallet, no ID, nothing.”

“I might be able to help you with this case, then,” Biggles told him. “I'm looking for two Germans who seem to have gone AWOL. Your dead body would fit the age of one of those who've gone missing.”

Biggles filled the Police officer in about what had happened at the Ferris's and promised he would come over to the Station with Mr and Mrs Ferris that afternoon to have a look at the dead man if they agreed. They might recognise him as one of their German guests.

Biggles replaced the receiver and fetched his coat, then realised that Algy and Bertie had taken the Bentley and Ginger had driven Mrs Ferris home in the Austin.

He reached for the phone again and ordered a taxi.

He reached the Ferris's home just as a Police car drove off.  The Austin, he noticed, was parked at the side of the road.  He paid the taxi off and walked towards the house.  Mrs Ferris, who had been seeing the policemen off, waited at the front door and showed him inside. She introduced her husband.   Ginger was sitting on the couch drinking a cup of tea.

“Any news?” asked Biggles.

“The Police think it's just a normal burglary and they're sending their forensic squad to do the usual investigations, finger prints and what have you,” replied Ginger.

Biggles nodded and turned to Mr Ferris.

“I assume that you would recognise your guests?” he inquired.  "Even if they are … dead?" he elucidated, when the man nodded.  There was a shocked silence.  Biggles looked at Ginger with a special look in his eyes.

The young man returned Biggles' gaze, looking a bit puzzled at Biggles' question.

“Yes, of course I'd recognise them. But you said dead? What's happened?” Mr Ferris asked.

“I don't want to tread on any one's toes by taking over this case, but the Police have found the body of a death man in the harbour and an acquaintance of mine in the local Police asked me if you would agree to have a look a the body in the Police mortuary. They think it may be linked with what has happened here recently.”

“By all means. Of course we'll do everything we can to help the Police and clear this mess up,” said Mr Ferris resolutely.

“May I use your phone?” asked Biggles. Mr Ferris pointed to the instrument by way of assent and a few minutes later Biggles was talking to Inspector le Cornu again. He had a brief conversation and put the phone down.

“They are expecting us at the Police station now,” announced Biggles. “Ginger,” he told the young man, “Go straight back to Fort George. I'm expecting a phone call from Commodore Stone so when Algy and Bertie get back you can fill them in with all the details and give the Commodore all the gen on what has been happening here as well. 

And tell Commodore Stone that I'll get in touch with him later after I have finished my business at the Police station!”

They all left the house. Ginger went back to Fort George and Biggles got into the Ferris's Ford along with Mrs Ferris who insisted on taking part in the unpleasant business and wanted to come along as well.
Mr Ferris parked his car near the Police station and together they went in and reported to the duty Sergeant.

Biggles told the Sergeant he had appointment with Inspector le Cornu and the Sergeant gave him directions to his office.

In le Cornu’s office Biggles introduced Mr and Mrs Ferris and they went straight to the forensic department where the dead body was temporarily housed in a refrigerated room while the cause of death was being investigated. One by one the Ferrises entered the room and both identified the body as belonging to one of the Germans, Hans Werner Dietrich.

When they went back to the office, a Police officer typed a report and after the necessary paperwork had been completed and signed, they were accompanied out into the street by Inspector le Cornu, who confessed himself very grateful for the help he had received from the Ferrises. Biggles promised he would keep in touch and with those parting words they left the Police station.

The Ferrises dropped Biggles off at his home and then drove off back home to await the arrival of the forensic officer.

Entering the house Biggles found Ginger preparing some food in the kitchen.

Biggles was starving and tucked in heartily to Ginger's sandwiches.

“Any news?” asked Ginger, making himself some more food.

Biggles told him about what happened at the Police station. “I think it is more a local Police matter now,” he opined.  “They'll have to have a good look for the other missing German tourist.”

“Couldn't they have been robbed on a fishing trip?” Ginger suggested.

“I don't know. Don't think about it.  It's not our case,” was Biggles reaction.

Suddenly the door flung open and Algy and Bertie breezed into the dining room.

“Hello chaps. Anything happened today?” asked Bertie polishing his monocle.

“What’s that? No lunch today?” queried Algy.

“Today you'll have to make your own,” said Ginger, tapping Algy's fingers as he went to take one of his sandwiches. “You know where to find the kitchen.”

Biggles told Algy and Bertie to sit down and brought them up to date with what had happened at the Ferrises.

“Oh my God!” was Bertie’s shocked reaction. “To think all this has happened on such a pleasant little island,” he muttered, shaking his head with disapproval as he poured himself a cup of tea. Suddenly the telephone rang in the hall. Algy went to answer it.

“It's for you Biggles," he called. "It's Commodore Stone’s secretary. She's putting you through to him now.” Biggles took the receiver and listened for a long time. When he had put the phone down, he walked slowly back into the living room, plumped down on the settee and lit a cigarette.

“Come on Biggles. Don't keep us waiting. What happened? You've gone very pale.  What's caused that, anger?” asked Algy curiously.

“Listen carefully,” said Biggles. “Commodore stone did some inquiries in Germany. A friend of his there works for Military Intelligence. His name is Major Ferguson. He was also stationed on Cyprus and he told Stone about my questions. This chap Carl Alfred Schmidt is totally unknown to M.I.19 but there was plenty of information on the other chap, Hans Werner Dietrich, the one who was found dead in the harbour.  Dietrich was a former Hauptsturmfuhrer in the SS during the war, holding the rank of Captain, and he was in charge of plundering money and treasures, which once belonged to the people who were massacred by the SS in the Nazi death camps. And now comes the interesting part. At the end of 1942 he was posted to Alderney where he was to establish a small concentration camp on British soil!

The prisoners were forced to build concrete bunkers and when the job was finished they were all eliminated. From Alderney he was sent to Russia to continue his dirty work. Just after the war Dietrich turned up in Jersey and was recognised and arrested. Because the Russians authorities wanted him for war crimes between 1943 and 1944 and for dealing with criminal Russian defectors, he was handed over to them.  He seems to be the only one to know the whereabouts of the stolen money and treasures.  He was sentenced 15 years of imprisonment in a hard labour camp in Russia but managed to survive.  This year he was released and kicked out of Russia as persona non grata and turned up in West Germany. The money and the treasures have still not been tracked down."

“Wow, that’s something,” said Algy when he had finished.

“Where is the money now?” Ginger wanted to know.

“We must look into this case immediately, old boy,” interposed Bertie, but Biggles raised his hands to calm down his pals' enthusiasm.

“Now just relax. We're retired now remember. Besides, Commodore Stone told me to back off this case. He understands our feelings and he told me that if we should get some valuable information by accident, we were to pass it through to him or to the local Police. This case is rather sensitive for the West Germans who have had enough of the after-effects of the war.  Now we have a good partnership with the

Germans in the NATO and we don't want to spoil that.”

“Meanwhile people were killed here on Guernsey,” said a very indignant Bertie.

“Well let me think about it chaps. Maybe we might be able to do something about it,” were Biggles' parting words before he retired to his room.
As Mrs Ferris was not available for preparing dinner, Biggles invited them to join him in one of their favourite local restaurants.

“Now listen chaps, I have an idea,” said Biggles when they were all seated at a table in their restaurant. “Tonight when we return home I shall get in touch with Erich von Stalhein in London. I promised him that I would invite him for a visit once we were settled and this is an excellent opportunity for him to come over to Guernsey for a visit. After all we've done for him in the past, he might be able to help us now with this case. With his background being a former member of the German and later Russian intelligence he's bound to know more about this case.”

The others agreed with Biggles' proposal and when they were back at home, Biggles immediately phoned von Stalhein in London. He explained the situation to von Stalhein and asked him to take the first available flight the following morning on the Channel Airways service from London Gatwick.

Von Stalhein in turn promised Biggles that he would ring and let Biggles know his ETA early the next morning.  Biggles and von Stalhein ended the talk and Biggles returned to the others in the living room.

Ginger had lit the fire and with a drink at their elbow, they discussed the case. After a final drink, they all retired to their bedrooms to get some sleep.

Von Stalhein called early in the morning from London Gatwick. He had managed to get a seat on the plane, which was due to arrive at 10:30 AM at Guernsey’s international Airport.

At 10 o’clock Biggles and Algy took the Bentley and drove off, heading for the airport. Ginger and Bertie stayed at home to prepare lunch because Biggles had given Mrs Ferris the rest of the week off to settle her problems at home.

Meanwhile they could have an undisturbed talk with Erich von Stalhein on the antecedents of the case.

The plane arrived with only a couple of minutes' delay and after the custom formalities Biggles, Algy and von Stalhein shook hands again in the arrival hall at the airport.

“Hello Bigglesworth, Hello Lacey,” von Stalhein greeted his former enemies enthusiastically. Biggles and Algy returned the greetings and they walked to where the Bentley was parked. Von Stalhein’s suitcase was put into the trunk drove off.  When they arrived at Fort George, von Stalhein complimented them on their choice of house and the superb surroundings. Algy parked the car in the garage and they all went into the house where Bertie welcomed them.

“Nice cottage,” complimented von Stalhein. “But where is our young friend, Ginger?”  he wanted to know.

Bertie presented Ginger's apologies; he was out shopping in St Peter Port.

They walked into the living room from where they had a magnificent view over the bay and harbour. Bertie served coffee and when it was finished Biggles explained to von Stalhein why he had been invited a little earlier than was planned.

“I know that you dislike talking about the war but we've had some strange things happen these last few weeks here in Guernsey which all had something to do directly or indirectly with the war!”

“Well, Bigglesworth, suppose you tell me all about it,” encouraged von Stalhein.

Biggles told von Stalhein everything and when Biggles mentioned the name Dietrich, von Stalhein stiffened for a moment but gestured to Biggles to continue.

When Biggles had finished his tale, von Stalhein sat back and fitted a cigarette into the long amber holder and lit it.  He inhaled deeply before he started to talk.
“Well, Dietrich,” began von Stalhein. “I have heard about him during the war. As a matter of fact I interrogated him after the war when I was working for the Russians. This man was one of the worst war criminals ever.”

Von Stalhein drew on his cigarette again and continued.

“This chap operated in the background. He left the dirty work up to others.

He gathered the money and valuables from the people who had been killed in the death camps and he sold their possessions. All this money was supposed to be handed over to his superior officers who in turn were supposed to hand it over to the German State Treasury.  He always gave the impression that he was a loyal Nazi, who believed in the Third Reich, but when the war started to go in the Allies' favour and Germany was being pushed back, Dietrich handed less over to his superiors although there were more people annihilated in the death camps.

The Gestapo wanted to have a talk with him somewhere in Russia but Dietrich killed the Gestapo Officers who were sent to arrest him and his accomplices. Well this was assumed because no evidence was ever found to prove this. In Russia everything was in chaos at that time. The frontline was changing daily and Dietrich was suspected of operating behind the Russian lines with Russian criminals.
The Germans hushed this up due to the chaotic state of the nation at that time and they never cleared up the case. After the war they ordered me to interrogate him but he refused to talk. He just kept on smiling. He knew that the Russians would never kill him and they sentenced him to hard labour for a long time, hoping he would reveal the whereabouts of his treasure to them. Even the Russians must have tried to get him to talk but although their methods were hard it seems that he has never given in. Well, I have not heard about him since, until you have raked it all up in my brain again.

"I think that he must have had accomplices," mused von Stalhein. "Billions must have gone through his hands. In the Third Reich, everybody was checked by members of the party and they always kept a close eye on these kinds of enterprises. Only if somebody at the top who had a great deal of influence was covering him would there be a chance of keeping any money back.”

“But where was his position on that ladder Erich? On the top or at the bottom?” asked Biggles. “I personally think that his position was somewhere in the middle,” said von Stalhein. “The upper rank Nazis did not survive the war and to the lower ranking Nazis his work was unknown.  I do not think that the plunder has ever turned up anywhere." “Maybe the key to this case is to be found on the Channel Islands here,” suggested Algy. “Remember that Dietrich was arrested on Jersey just after the war.” “That is a good point, Lacey, but how on earth did he get there. The Channel islands were isolated after the Allied forces landed in France in June 1944,” Von Stalhein objected. “The only supplies to arrive here came by U-boat and very rarely by plane. "“If Dietrich had such a lot of money he might have bribed people to get him to his destination and keep him out of the hands of the Gestapo and the Allies!” interrupted Biggles.

“That’s jolly good thinking, Biggles,” said Bertie. “We just have to find out why he went to Jersey and not to other countries in South America where most of the Nazis fled,” continued Biggles. “He didn’t. Why did he stay here on Jersey?”

“Maybe he got stuck on Jersey and could not continue,” suggested von Stalhein.

“I think we should start our investigation on Alderney first. We know that he was a Commanding Officer of the Sylt concentration camp, which was established by the SS in 1943. At the end of 1943 he suddenly turns up in Russia and stayed there till the Gestapo wanted to arrest him and then he vanished till he turns up in Jersey in 1945,” said Biggles and the others agreed. “Let's start the investigations here on the Channel Islands. We can have a look into the archives of the community and talk to people who are researching the history of the bunkers and fortifications that can be found on all the islands!” suggested Algy.

“That’s a splendid idea,” said Bertie. “Our trip to Monaco can wait.”

“But, you are retired,” said von Stalhein surprised. “Haven’t you had enough adventure in your lives?”

“Well Erich, speaking for myself I must say I'm not keen on spending my days just reading books and walking to the harbour. I think I could do with a little excitement.  What about you chaps? We're not dead yet, we're only retired,” was Biggles answer and the others agreed.

“It's in our blood, Erich. Isn't it in yours too?” continued Biggles.

Von Stalhein flushed. “If I can be of help you then I offer my services for this job,” von Stalhein answered determinedly.

“Well Erich, that is the only answer I like to hear. Let's think of a plan so we can start this investigation,” said Biggles and he lit a cigarette.

“Where is Ginger?" asked Biggles, irritated, looking at his watch.  “He should have been home ages by now.”

“Now you mention it, old boy, it is a bit odd. If his car had broken down he would have given us a call," said Bertie concerned. “Shall I go out and have a look for him?”

“Thanks for offering, Bertie but I think Ginger will manage alright,” Biggles reassured him.

“Well, I'll put the kettle on and fix us some sandwiches,” said Bertie and he went to the kitchen.
Biggles and von Stalhein both lit another cigarette and were looking out of the windows.

“I want to ask you something, Erich,” said Biggles suddenly. “I'd like you to go to West Germany with Algy. You can visit the German intelligence department and make inquiries about this Schmidt chap. Meanwhile Algy can visit Major Ferguson of MI19 and ask him more about Dietrich. I will ask Commodore Stone to introduce you both in Germany.  And when you both have finished your task you can both go to the German Military Archive - in Freiburg, I believe it is?” said Biggles inquiringly.

“Yes, that is correct, it is in Freiburg,” confirmed von Stalhein.

“Meanwhile Ginger, Bertie and I can make some inquiries here on the islands.

We can share the information we have gathered later when we can make our final plan. Do you all agree?”

The others all nodded and Bertie and they all went to the dining room for tea.

While they were having their tea they suddenly heard the front door slam. A few moments later Ginger entered the dining room. There was utter silence as they looked at him horrified. With blood staining his face and clothes, Ginger stumbled to a chair, threw himself down and put his head in his hands.