145: Electric diner

‘Where are we going?’ I asked, as Charlie veered off the usual route to the Park.

‘Jack’s.’

‘But you filled-up a couple of days ago.’

‘I know. But there have been developments, and I need to show you.’

‘You could have just told me.’

‘Well, no not really. You rely too much on me you know. When it comes to the filling station, the classic car workshop, Jack’s other nefarious activities, Fiona, even Mel these days.’

‘You’re my eyes and ears Sparkwell, give me details.’

‘In case you’ve forgotten, sir, the deal was, all those years ago, that I take care of the car, singular. In exchange for free use. What you neglected to explain, was just what your relationship to Jack really is. I really don’t know, what you need to know. But I do know you need to see this.’

‘Yes, you’re quite right, as usual.’ Having parked in the car park we sat and stared. The name above the entrance to what I still think of as the new pay point, come shop, come cafe and comfort break area at the filling station, had changed. Somewhat larger, and now a flashing neon sign, it read Electric Diner.

‘Very American.’ Was her only comment.

‘But at least it’s not on the roof, projecting to the sky. That would have required planning permission one assumes.’

‘Come on.’ Said Charlie, making to exit the vehicle.

‘There’s more?’

‘Of course, the whole interior is made out like a diner.’

‘You’re telling me Jack has forked out for a full interior redesign just a couple of years after the original was built?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Didn’t come to me for the money!’

‘Maybe he’s doing better than he’s letting on.’

Whilst the pay point and shop looked substantially the same, the cafe area was altogether different. We took seats at the counter.

‘What can I get you folks?’

‘Blimey!’

‘I say!’ I added, as a uniformed Melisa smiled upon us. ‘Still Jack’s general dogsbody I take it?’

‘No!’

‘Skirt’s a bit short.’ Said Charlie.

‘I’m just here for ten days, overseeing the opening, I’m Jack’s right hand these days.’

‘Masquerading as a waitress in a burger joint. Anyway, what do you recommend?

‘Double cheeseburger with extra fries, a tenner each.’

‘What!’

‘Proper big buns, hand-flipped hamburgers.’

‘Flown in a new short order Chef from Vegas, has he?

‘No, same staff.’

‘Still must have cost a bit.’

‘Jack says the filling station is a profit centre.’

‘First in a thousand years! Two coffees, thank you.’

After we’d had a chance to take in the ambience for a minute or two, the truth suddenly dawned. ‘I know where he’s got this from, Eltham.’

‘How come?’

‘He’s been roaming his social media, picked up what’s been developing with recharging for Makepeace’s US EVs.’

‘Well?’

‘There’s three or four now, combination drive-in, or drive-by, rechargers plus burger joints and cinemas, all retro nineteen fifties style. You park, plug-in, order a meal from the car, it’s delivered to you as you watch a movie on the big outdoor screen.’

‘And pay from your device, presumably.’

‘Of course.’

After a few more minutes Mel returned; ‘Sure I can’t get you anything to eat?’

‘No, I have to keep a tight rein on Tony’s appetites.’

‘So, what are you saying Mel, Jack’s training you up as some kind of personal assistant?’

‘Thinks I’m management material. Good at reading people, seeing opportunities for what they are. He also, well, I think he’s sees how you and Charlie operate and...’

‘He’s older than I am! And he’s been married to his childhood sweetheart for over forty years.’

‘I didn’t mean like that, what do you take me for?’

‘He knows Mel, he’s deliberately misunderstanding, he can’t help himself.’

‘So, does he want you to sell cars, or be a female enforcer perhaps?’

‘I don’t know, all I know is it works, I sort of gather information in, and he says he can think aloud when I’m around, bounce ideas of me.’

‘Oh well, if you’re that important, you should be able to name your own price. Anyway, onward and upward, Charlie we must hit the road.’

‘Might see you later then Tony.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, you’re off to your secret session with Tim, aren’t you?’

‘Not so secret it would seem.’

I went in search of George, our senior grounds person. For although I sort a private consultation with Tim, I’d no intention of queering the pitch for him. He was after all, a student under George’s supervision. I found him sitting on one of the new, old-style park benches, on the far side of the pond, finishing his tuck. ‘Afternoon George.’

‘Mr Arlington, sir.’ He said, doffing a non-existent cap and rising to his feet.

‘Oh, lord. Not you as well, I get enough of that from Sparkwell.’ I said sitting down.

‘But you do deserve respect, you found these benches, they’re actually comfortable to sit on!’ Now he sat back down again.

‘Thank you. Cost a fortune though, we must devise a way of doing our own repairs in the fullness of time.’

‘We have some wood set aside from the new water pipe business, I’ll keep an eye out. Now then, you’re here to ask me about that young Tim, am I correct?’

‘You are indeed.’

‘Soon as he mentioned he was doing your garden, I thought, hello! Not like we’ve had students before.’

‘Well, how’s he doing?’

‘Fine. Good worker, I’d give him a job. But he, has ideas.’

‘And that’s bad?’

‘No, but he’s no Joseph Paxton, is he?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, we must remember Paxton was only twenty-three when the duke offered him the position of Head Gardener at Chatsworth.’

‘Yes, but in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re half the size of Chatsworth.’

‘But the house is a similar age.’

‘Oh, I get it. You like him because you, think he’s like you.’

‘Where is he by the way?’

‘Chatting up the old biddies in the walled garden.’

I stood a moment, half shielded by the iron work of the gates. Tim was demonstrating something about digging to a group of our bungalow residents. Either that, or it was their way of getting someone else to do the work. Enough I thought and strode forth. ‘Afternoon all!’

‘Afternoon Anthony.’ Said Ada.

‘I need to borrow young Tim here for a few minutes I’m afraid.’

‘You will bring him back won’t you, we’re learning ever so much.’ Said another.

‘Of course.’

Once out of earshot, behind the wall where the lean-to potting sheds used to stand, I asked; ‘Did you get the package?’

‘Yes, I’ve made a start, fascinating read, I hadn’t realised your uncle was really such a distant relation of the original earls.’

‘I was hoping it was the details of the original parkland and gardens that would fascinate!’

He laughed; ‘They do sir, honestly, it’s just, well as the title says, “Cattle Rustlers to Courtiers”, the occupants are intriguing. All my ancestors seem so deferential, even some of the living specimens...’

‘Quite, now then, lets walk. My uncle’s scheme always was restoration, the club, the spa, conference facilities, merely a means to an end. The walled garden, a case in point, a reasonable compromise provided the users don’t develop an allotment mentality. The expansion of the golf course to eighteen holes, an opportunity to reorientate the entire place back to what it once was, a house and park with uninterrupted vistas all the way to the sea. Unashamed anti-modernism if you will, big C conservation and not a windmill in sight. Would your lecturers approve?’

‘Probably not. But you’ll get no objections from me.’

‘Good lad.’

144: Interrogation

‘What are we doing today?’

‘I don’t know. Anything in The Beacon?’

‘No.’

‘Now, let’s see.’ I said, looking at my watch and draining my coffee mug. ‘Might as well drift towards the club.’

‘That’s your answer to everything isn’t? We could go anywhere in the world, but no.’

‘But the club is the centre of the world, the world comes to us.’ At which point the doorbell rang. ‘That's odd, something’s happening.’

Charlie sprang to her feet but was back within a second of looking at the monitor; ‘It’s Casper, what’s his face?’

‘You mean Casper Wieck, with a V.’

‘What do I do? He looks a bit frazzled.’

‘Right, er. Be suspicious, ask him what he wants. Er, give me a two-minute head start. The objective is to get him into the media room. I’ll check the cameras, open the channel to Barmy.’

‘Press the panic button.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Good day to you Ms Sparkwell.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I need to speak urgently with you and your, partner.’

‘Yes, but what about?’ She said, making a show of looking up and down the street.

‘Matters of national security are at stake.’

‘Oh, well, you'd better come in then.’

They moved out of shot, but I still heard a bit more of the now fading audio from my seat in ‘command and control’.

‘May I take your hat and coat?’

‘Yes. Might I use your facilities? I’ve been on the road for some hours.’

‘It’s up the stairs I’m afraid, I’ll show you the...’

‘In here Mr Wieck.’ I said standing by the window, making subtle adjustments to the blinds. ‘Do take a seat on the old chaise lounge.’

‘I see.’

‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’

‘You’ve got cameras everywhere!’ He declared, cautiously sitting down.

‘No recording, no talk I’m afraid. I take it you’re wearing a wire. You did say matters of national security.’

‘I see. Ms Sparkwell has legal control of all Murchison’s property and possessions; we require the immediate return of all government property.’

‘Who is this we? I see no police vehicles in the street, nor any unfamiliar unmarked cars for that matter, apart from your own. You aren’t brandishing a court order, correct? It seems to me you’re merely a long retired former employee of Daphne’s late father. Besides, I am not aware of anything that might be described as government property amongst Ken’s stuff. Charlie?’

‘Nor am I.’ She’d now swung her executive chair around to stare directly at Wieck, whilst I’d returned to mine, but with half an eye on the screen.

‘You know perfectly well to what I refer.’

‘You’re thinking of these.’ I said as I put up scans of the two passports, full screen on my large wraparound.

‘Good god!’

‘I’m reliably informed they are genuine Swiss passports, real numbers, real names.’

‘None the less, I must insist on the immediate return of the originals.’

I paused, waiting for more. ‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘And in exchange you are offering us...’

‘Nothing!’ He looked genuinely confused.

‘Oh dear, oh dear me.’

‘You’ve upset him now Mr Wieck, he believes in reciprocity.’ Said Charlie.

I flicked another switch, suddenly Barmy appeared on the rest of my screen.

‘Good lord, is he, is this live?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Be reassured, he’s not appearing from the heart of your old HQ, but he can green-screen some very clever backgrounds these days, he’s fully kitted-out since Daphne allowed him in from the cold, from the garden shed you understand, he has the whole of the back bedroom to play with now.’

‘I’m not authorised to make deals Mr Arlington.’

‘No, I imagine not. And it doesn’t occur to you what we, well myself to be strictly accurate, might desire?’

‘No. Besides, the passports are no use to you, now you’ve copied them.’

‘Aren’t they?’

‘I’m not at liberty to add anything.’

‘Well, we can come to that later. Tell me, is this a private enterprise on your own behalf Wieck?’

‘What can you mean?’

‘Trying to save your reputation, or protect others, some almighty balls-up years ago, a last desperate attempt to get the toothpaste back in the tube before you pop your clogs?’

‘Most assuredly not!’

‘So, it is something that’s still live, something official, or an official embarrassment involving others?’

‘I cannot say.’

‘Is that because you are just, small fry, a cog in the wheel?’ He paused, seemingly running out of steam. I continued; ‘You’ve waited over a year to come and see us. Now what does that imply I wonder? All the legal stuff was tied up six months ago. Perhaps you've been investigating us, what have you managed to find out?’

‘I can assure you, nothing that’s not in the public domain.’

‘I seem to be doing all the talking Mr Wieck, is that usual with interrogations? I admit I’m rather new at this game.’

‘I was warned about your wit.’

‘Is Casper Wieck your real name?’

‘Of course!’

‘Not a work name, such as my parents appear to have had?’

‘I could not say.’

‘What are you meant to do with the passports, burn them?’

‘No. They will go to the relevant authority.’

‘Of course, because you don’t know much do you. You know what I think Wieck, you coming here, is their last throw of the dice. You come alone, unprotected, to throw yourself on our mercy, I think they need me. I think I’m the only one with even the remotest chance of recovering the real prize, property, cash, any assets held by the Swiss. I think whatever cosy arrangement that allowed for the obtaining of real passports with which to fake an identity, expired decades ago. But assets, sat in a bank... ‘

‘What do you want Arlington, what’s your price damn it?’

‘Oh, I’m coming to that. But first you must realise that for me it isn’t about money. It may be for your lot, but I’ve had access to all the wealth a man could possibly want for decades. And yet, look around you, a four-bedroom villa and a couple of sporty cars.’

‘Two!’

‘Yes, almost identical. And, of course Charlie and I have a track record as responsible subjects of the Crown. Look on the wall Mr Wieck, commendations from the local constabulary, for recovering and returning crown assets in the matter of the last of the Crimean gold. What I want, is the one thing I don’t have.’

‘Well?’

‘I’ve been an orphan since the age of twelve.’

‘We played no part in that.’

‘Yes, I came to that conclusion myself some time ago. But what I want Casper, is to know my parents. I’m in late middle age, my childhood appears in uninvited memories, with ever greater clarity, with every passing day. And I’d rather like to know why Daphne’s daddy and Kenneth Murchison thought I might as a young man, become an asset of some description to the secret world. There’s something called the ‘thirty-year rule’ is there not? I even have a good degree in history from one of our older universities, I could almost be passed off as a legitimate researcher, at a push.’

‘Yes, yes I begin to see.’

‘Here’s my card, if you give us warning next time, you might receive a warmer reception.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Comments, Barmy?’

‘Just that I see no reason to share anything I’ve learnt today, for now at least. I’ll lock it down and back it up. We have our own channel Casper, Tony and I. We are our own server, so to speak.’

When he was gone, Charlie appeared with the pair of tweezers from her bathroom kit; ‘What on earth are you doing?’

‘I’m going to extract all those photos from the gunk of Ken’s old plastic album. As you said back along, there’s bound to be some info on the back of them.’

143: Road to nowhere

The new year may start slowly for some, but for us it had a vigour, not to say a vim. So far, my role within the new, old railway, had been one of facilitation and enlightened self-interest. Now, with more disruptive works coming, I needed to assert myself more. Any public discontent would not be ameliorated by consultation, only by practical evidence of improvement. Setting the right tone, the psychology of our restoration if you like, was paramount. As a non-executive director, I normally attended all the meetings that now took place in our boardroom at the Abbey station. But then came the day, when all the other board members foregathered without me, in expectation of watching a televised news conference, which they knew would happen, but which the rest of the county and the nation, most assuredly did not!

Charlie was driving me to this media event, which was being held at the headquarters of the national park, located in that modest town which serves as the main southern gateway to the Moor. On the way we were held up by traffic lights, due to restoration work underway at the town’s old railway station, the principal stop on the line to Morestead. Part of the works involved actually narrowing the road, Walpole having achieved a major coup by establishing that fifty years ago the local authority had acted illegally by pinching a three-foot-wide strip of land from the old British Railways.

Just as we were creeping forward, thinking these lights will change again any second, our dashboard screen sprung alight; ‘Blimey!’ Exclaimed Charlie.

‘Here we go, here we go, here we go...’

‘Shut-up!’ She said as we just escaped on amber. Then on the screen I could see a police patrol car appear from behind a hedge and take up position, up our arse, so to speak; ‘What does he want?’

‘Well,’ I speculated; ‘They’re not flashing at us, perhaps they’re here to escort us.’

‘There will be loads of VIPs, you’ll probably be the dodgiest one there.’

‘Quite. And we should be mindful of the fact this may be Sonia’s last chance, to have a go.’

‘Are you worried?’

‘Barmy and I have had contingency arrangements in place ever since he started doing government work.’

After being waved into our allotted parking, there was an almost immediate tap on the driver’s window from a suit, and as the window descended, so did a smiling face; ‘Charlie! Great to see you.’

‘Oh no, not you again.’ I groaned out loud.

‘Back by popular demand, with royal protection, sir. I’ll come round and escort you in.’

‘It’s because he’s an ex-marine.’ She said in our last moments of privacy.

‘I didn’t know that.’

On our way into the park authority building, security said; ‘The national park are hosting today, at your suggestion I’m told, so you’re alongside HRH as the major landowners, but slightly off to one side. The minister is the only speechmaker and the press haven’t been briefed, so questions will be limited. Speak later.’

‘I understand you are old friends, Anthony.’

‘In a manner of speaking, your royal highness.’

‘He’s back at the wife’s insistence, must be glad to be shot of the politicians. Be my feed when you think I need it. How’s Charlotte?’

‘Fine, in amongst the press, using the Trust’s mobile to take background pictures for The Countrywoman, but under embargo until after Kensington Palace, of course.’

‘Thank you. You’d be surprised how many Duchy farm kitchens have a copy of that mag open on the table.’

‘May I pass that on, sir?’

‘You may.’

The nation’s transport supremo could be seen bustling through the melee towards us; ‘Your royal highness. Arlington, I want you to know I’m only going along with this because Brenda has me by the balls!’

‘Brenda Radnor, sir. Our local MP, and the minister’s new PPS I understand.’

‘How I’m supposed to square this circle I don’t know.’

‘I find just sticking to the speech as written usually works.’ Said HRH with a glint in the eye.

‘Your Royal Highness, ladies and gentlemen. It is highly appropriate that today’s announcement of government investment should be made from the headquarters of the national park, located as we are in the town which will see the most immediate benefit. And alongside the Duke of Cornwall, Anthony Arlington, together representing the major landowners involved and whose cooperation has made today possible. For I can tell you now, this county will see, the completion of its motorway all the way to its western border. Detailed printed plans will be available after I have spoken. Over the next twenty-five years, with great care and sensitivity to the current and future needs of this rural environment, plus the need to correct the mistakes made when the current dual carriageway was constructed, the economy and environment will be enhanced. Within weeks work will begin on this short section, before moving east towards your great cathedral city. Let no one be in any doubt, the widening will be to the south side of the existing road. The eastern end will be elevated to allow a bridge over the new, old railway. With proper earth embankments, with tree cover, and the bridge constructed from the same stone as the original railway, from a disused quarry on Duchy land, allowing it in turn to be flooded and a wetland conservation area created. The current gateway junction to the Moor, will be reversed with the carriageway on top, the access roads underneath. With the growth of electric vehicles, noise and air pollution will take care of itself. The rainfall from the road itself will be collected to create new wetland conservation areas. The modifications to the road’s route will allow the size of the national park to increase, with all the protections for the environment and communities that affords. Access to the temporary roads required for construction will be given to the railway too, allowing ballast, sleepers and short rails to be delivered, the trialling of dual construction, cost-saving techniques for the more challenging work coming later to the east. Within weeks of the bridge’s completion, train services will return to this town...’

Once it was all over, with HRH gone skyward, the minster off with a police escort to the next stopping train with a first-class carriage, the national press in the car park searching for a decent signal, I wandered back towards our vehicle. I was met by the sight of Charlie leaning against the car, arms folded and looking decidedly miffed. I assumed, because she was being blocked by a police patrol car beside which stood none other than the Chief Constable herself.

‘Home Sparkwell and don't spare the horses.’

‘Not so fast Anthony.’

‘Sonia! Couldn’t resist a last fond farewell? Congratulations on your retirement, today your last public appearance?’

‘Next week, actually. But you, are going to be seeing a lot more of me in the future.’

‘Excellent! Your place or mine?’

‘I could impound this vehicle.’

‘Really?’

‘Using an unlicensed communications network to impede the work of law enforcement.’

‘Oh, come now, the Moor is covered in dead zones, and the park authority’s car park is notorious, something to do with overhanging tree cover in a hollow, so I’m told. You’ll find the local press tend to slip down the road to the pub car park. But your lads could have told you that.’

‘Charlotte told me she uploaded twenty high-definition pictures in seconds to her magazine via the car and your so-called “media room”. Explain!’

‘You left out, “via one of Eltham Makepeace’s satellites.”

‘Ha! Condemned out of your own mouth.’

‘Everything is legal, until the Crown makes it otherwise.’ Then I took out my phone.

‘What are you doing?’ She said as flashing dots lit our car’s interior in the winter gloom.

‘I just pressed my panic button. I confess that having a satellite channel does cause a little disruptive noise to terrestrial users that get too close, yet you noticed HRH got away without a hitch. You remember the double royal visit, oh no you weren’t there. Anyway, proof of concept, state security working alongside our drones and the Don’s moving cameras both operating on Eltham’s satellite internet. There need be no law when an unwritten, informal hands-off, unspoken agreement works perfectly well. We’re not in Europe anymore, their system is too old, too slow, not good with fast moving objects in close proximity. And no need to worry over Charlie’s photos, they’re embargoed until the palace have posted.’

Then Sonia’s work device pinged; ‘Sir? Yes, sir. No! I mean yes, at once. Thank you, sir.’ She looked at me with that film noir, curled lip. ‘Get him out of my sight Charlotte.’

‘I can’t until you move your vehicle, ma’am.’

‘Very well.’ Then another ping. ‘That’s my own mobile now. How’s that possible? “Eltham Makepeace is following you.” Oh, God. “Eltham Makepeace posted on your profile” Hell! “Congratulations on your retirement” Balloons and everything. I’ll delete it.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that. Whoever your retirement project is with, would be most unhappy. You’re going to be a major league media influencer within hours.’

End of season eleven