The Suicide Exhibition: The Never War (Never War 1) (39 page)

‘And drawn a few rather obvious conclusions,’ Brinkman added.

‘Like the fact that the crosses inside circles…’ Sarah began, pointing to the nearest map – which showed southern Italy.

‘Are all archaeological sites, yes,’ Wiles finished for her. ‘As you say, obvious.’

‘So obvious it took us three days,’ Sarah muttered.

‘These lines..?’ Wiles asked, moving along the row of maps. He traced one of the lines drawn on several of the maps with his index finger. ‘They were on the German originals?’

‘Significant?’ Brinkman asked.

‘Undoubtedly.’

‘Any idea what they are?’ Davenport asked.

‘Possibly. It’s one of the theories I mentioned.’ He turned, taking in the other maps and charts. The wall opposite where he stood had a large map of the British isles, with the bigger map of the Shingle Bay area pinned to one side. ‘Yes, this will do very well,’ Wiles said. ‘I’ll need a few minutes. And drawing pins obviously.’

Miss Manners got to her feet. ‘I have plenty of those. Anything else?’

‘Reels of cotton. As many different colours as you can find. Thank you.’

Wiles worked quickly, but it was still almost an hour before he was done. He pulled a sheaf of handwritten notes from his briefcase, referring to them constantly as he pinned lines of cotton over the map of Britain. Then he turned his attention to the other maps. He pinned fewer threads on these. Finally he sat down and looked round at his handiwork.

‘You want to explain?’ Brinkman asked.

Miss Manners and Sarah handed round black tea. There was no sugar and they were out of milk.

‘The lines show the paths of UDTs,’ Wiles said. ‘Sometimes we only have a few points, so I’ve extrapolated. We don’t know where they come from, as they just appear. We don’t know where they go as they just disappear. Hence the lines start and stop at the first and last confirmed points of contact.’

‘Appear and disappear?’ Guy said. ‘That’s impossible surely.’

‘I’m talking about RADAR traces and observations. It could be to do with their speed, if they travel too rapidly to be tracked. It could be their height if they move above or below the detection field. Or perhaps they have some intermittent
way of jamming the RADAR and only appear when they want to.’

‘Why would they want to?’ Davenport asked.

Wiles shrugged. ‘I didn’t promise you any answers. Just supposition.’

‘So what do the threads tell us?’ Sarah asked.

‘I think I know,’ Miss Manners said, staring at the map of Britain. ‘I’ve seen lines like this before, drawn out across ancient sites.’

‘They do seem to go through some interesting archaeological areas,’ Davenport agreed. ‘Is that significant?’

‘Possibly,’ Wiles said. ‘You see, I think these UDTs of yours follow Ley Lines.’

Guy shook his head. ‘Sorry – what lines?’

‘They’re ancient paths and tracks,’ Wiles said, ‘I think that’s right isn’t it, Miss Manners?’

She nodded. ‘There is a theory that ancient sites are joined by paths – some of them still used, others hidden or lost. They are generally straight lines, as we have here,’ she indicated the map. ‘A man called Alfred Watkins coined the term, after he noticed that many ancient sites seem to be in alignment – wayside crosses, burial mounds, churches, standing stones.’

‘Some of those would be rather more modern though, surely,’ Guy said. ‘Churches don’t date from the same era as ancient burials and standing stones.’

‘But most churches are built on ancient sites that have a religious or ritualistic significance that predates the church,’ Davenport told him.

Miss Manners nodded. ‘There’s also a theory that these paths have some mystic quality or power. Perhaps that they follow magnetic lines of force on the earth. Dowsers claim to be able to detect them. Someone even suggested that homing pigeons use them for navigation.’

‘Seriously?’ Brinkman asked.

‘It does all sound rather improbable,’ Davenport agreed. ‘Though I suppose the Romans were able to build straight roads so the paths and tracks theory might be on the nail.’

‘I should tell you something else that’s interesting,’ Miss Manners said. ‘And that is that our friend Rudolf Hess had all the Ley Lines in Germany mapped out several years ago. Perhaps we should ask him if that’s significant?’

‘Assuming he’s talking to us again,’ Brinkman said. ‘Or that we can believe a word he says.’

‘Something to look into, I suppose,’ Guy agreed. ‘How close a correlation is there between the UDT paths and these Ley Lines?’

‘Well, that’s difficult to say,’ Wiles admitted. ‘Ley Lines are theoretical, so we don’t really know where they all are, or even if they actually exist at all. But let’s just say that a significant number of the UDT tracks follow generally accepted Ley Lines. And a good many of the remainder can be extended to cover other ancient sites. Take this short line section, for example.’

Wiles pointed to a short green thread on the map. ‘It doesn’t follow a Ley Line that we know of, and it doesn’t pass over any significant ancient sites. But extend the line in this direction, and it goes through Hereford Cathedral. Extend it this way and we find it passes over Tewkesbury Abbey.’

‘Could be coincidence,’ Sarah said.

‘Could be,’ Wiles agreed.

‘Or,’ Sarah went on, ‘they might be navigation markers. When you’re flying you look for waypoints, things you can recognise from the air that give you your position.’

‘Ah, that’s very good,’ Wiles said. ‘So these UDTs perhaps navigate by ancient sites. Or, conversely, ancient sites could originally have been navigation beacons. Points at which to change course, perhaps emitting some signal that we cannot receive or have misinterpreted to give the site some religious or ceremonial significance.’

‘Flight paths,’ Guy said. ‘This is a lot to think about.’

‘Then let me give you something else to think about.’

Wiles pulled a folded sheet of squared paper from his briefcase and unfolded it on the table. The paper had a grid marked in letters down one side of the page, and numbers
along the other. Some of the squares were shaded black and others left empty.

‘You have to squint a bit, but you get the idea.’ Wiles held the paper up for everyone to see.

‘It’s a picture,’ Davenport said. ‘Yes, if you squint it blurs the squares and makes it easier to make out the image. Looks like a face.’

‘So what is it?’ Brinkman asked.

‘Your MI5 chap said that one of his bods suggested some of the intercepted data we shared with them could be a radio-fax signal. It’s a way of transmitting an image by sending a series of instructions about how to reassemble that image at the other end. Basically you break it down into dots, like these squares only smaller, then indicate whether each dot is black or white. This data seems to use a coordinates system rather than just a linear sequence, but even so – we get an image.’

Guy looked at Davenport. ‘Like that poor man was drawing.’

Davenport nodded. ‘That must be it. The transmissions, some of them anyway, are the images that those people see and interpret.’

‘They’re transmissions from an Ubermensch?’ Sarah said.

‘It would make sense,’ Brinkman agreed. ‘Is it possible to triangulate where these transmissions come from and go to?’

‘Most of the data we have is in a different form, and comes from the UDTs,’ Wiles said. ‘It may be navigational, or progress reports, or observations or even comments on the local cloud cover for all we know. These images… Well we have relatively few because we’ve not been looking for them. There are undoubtedly others waiting unidentified amongst the radio traffic that hasn’t been decrypted. There’s a lower priority given to anything that’s not from one of the known Tunny lines.’

‘The what?’ Sarah asked.

‘Oh sorry, enemy communications lines that we’ve successfully penetrated. We name them after fish and sea creatures for some reason – so Jellyfish is the link between
Berlin and Paris. Anything outside those lines, or where we know there’s significant enemy presence, could turn out to be local wireless stations broadcasting the weather forecast, or some amateur with a crystal set. So a lot of it is ignored or discarded. Most of it is probably never picked up at all. We can try to triangulate what we have, but really we need more data. The more the better.’

‘And that will tell us where there’s an Ubermensch?’ Davenport asked.

‘Might do more than that,’ Wiles said. ‘From what I can tell, the people the Germans have who pick up these image signals are merely intercepting the data, just as we are.’

Brinkman frowned. ‘You mean it’s actually being
sent
somewhere else?’

‘Oh yes.’ Wiles started stuffing papers back into his briefcase. ‘Get me more data, and we can find out where your Ubermensch fellows are sending it, and probably where the UDTs are transmitting to as well. Get me enough data and we can find out who they’re really transmitting to.’

AFTER WILES HAD
gone, the rest of them spent some time discussing how they could get more data.

‘We’ve been collecting and collating reports of UDT sightings,’ Brinkman said. ‘That gives us dates and times when there are likely to have been transmissions. The Y Stations will have reported some of them, but probably not all.’

‘You think they discarded them as just background noise or interference or something?’ Guy asked.

‘It seems likely,’ Davenport agreed.

‘Great,’ Sarah sighed. ‘So now we have to go through all the Y Station intercepts.’

‘At least we have dates and times to check,’ Miss Manners pointed out. ‘We’re not just working blind like before. Ah!’ Her eyes widened behind her glasses in realisation.

‘What is it?’ Brinkman asked.

‘Dates and times – that list I got from Jane, of the dates and times that Aleister Crowley held séances.’

‘I thought Wiles already had the intercepts for those,’ Guy said. ‘Isn’t that how he knew they were related?’

‘There was a match for some of them, but not all. We can check the other dates and times.’

‘How serious is Crowley about this occult mumbo-jumbo?’ Davenport wondered.

‘Deadly serious,’ Miss Manners said. ‘Given his reputation,
I’m surprised you need to ask.’

‘No, no – I mean is he meticulous? Or is it all in the moment, as it were?’

‘In what sense?’ Brinkman said.

‘Does he keep records?’

‘He is absolutely meticulous,’ Miss Manners told them. ‘He views it as a science, so he records everything.’

‘Including the information that comes through at these séances?’ Davenport asked. ‘Because if he does, then maybe we don’t need to go hunting through pages and pages of Y Station intercepts. Maybe Crowley already has it all recorded.’

There was a brief silence while this sank in.

‘It would be in a very different format though, surely,’ Guy said at last.

‘A different form of transcription,’ Miss Manners agreed. ‘But the same data, nonetheless.’

‘I’m sure Wiles would be able to interpret it,’ Brinkman said. ‘And it would give us a complete list of dates and times. Good thought, Leo. Very good.’

‘There is a rather more intractable problem, however,’ Miss Manners said. ‘We seem to be assuming that Crowley will happily hand over his notes and observations.’

‘I wasn’t intending to ask,’ Brinkman said. ‘But I think Crowley is the key here. Not only will he have additional information we can pass on to Wiles, but he may be able to shed some light on how he intercepts the Vril transmissions. Our own efforts so far have met with limited success.’

‘But we have had some success,’ Miss Manners pointed out.

‘Maybe he has some artefact,’ Sarah said. ‘Something to focus the transmissions, like the bracelets.’

‘He certainly seems to have some link with them,’ Guy agreed. ‘Possibly even a way to contact them – in which case we could use that to generate more data by provoking further transmissions.’

‘By somehow goading Crowley into contacting the Vril,’ Davenport said. He gave a short laugh. ‘Trick him into giving us what we want? I like the notion of that.’

‘Can’t we just raid his place?’ Sarah asked. ‘Go and take what we need?’

‘There are rules about that sort of thing, despite the war,’ Brinkman said. ‘We’re not the police. We could work with them to get a warrant, but that takes time.’

‘What about the Emergency Powers Act?’ asked Guy. ‘We could invoke that to justify going in heavy.’

‘Either way might tip Crowley off,’ Brinkman said. ‘He has friends and contacts in pretty high places, you know.’

‘Perhaps our friends in MI5 could assist?’ Davenport suggested.

‘You’re right. Alban is a good person to ask,’ Brinkman said. ‘He can probably help us get into Crowley’s place.’

‘I’ll go,’ Guy said.

‘I’m game,’ Davenport agreed.

‘Not this time,’ Brinkman said. ‘He’s met you, Guy, remember. Same reason why Miss Manners can’t go in – you’d both be recognised at once. You too, Leo.’

Sarah started to speak, but Brinkman cut her off immediately.

‘I’m not sending you into that den of depravity, Miss Diamond. Don’t even think about it. I shall go myself.’

‘You?’ Sarah said before she could stop herself.

‘You think I like driving a desk? Anyway, I’ll take Sergeant Green with me. Between us, I fancy we’ve more frontline experience than anyone else here – even you, Major Pentecross. Unless anyone has any better ideas?’

‘Just a suggestion, Colonel,’ Miss Manners said. ‘If we can wait for New Year’s Eve, Crowley will be having a party. The place will be packed, lots of people who don’t know each other. You should be able to get inside while it’s busy. Crowley himself will be… distracted. So you can bet he won’t be in his study. I can tell you exactly where he keeps all his records and notes.’

‘Thank you. That’s a good suggestion.’

‘Only…’ Miss Manners hesitated. ‘I should warn you, however experienced you are, prepare to be shocked.’

‘There’s no need for you to come,’ Brinkman assured Alban. ‘If you can just give me something to pick the lock to Crowley’s study and his filing drawers…’

‘Certainly I can, but not the three-week course you need to know how to use it,’ Alban insisted. ‘I’m coming too – no argument. I’m sure it won’t surprise you to know that I do have some experience of getting into houses that don’t belong to me.’