I could have shouted for sheer joy at that superbly executed symbol of victory. It lightened my spirits. I took it as an omen. It was one of the very first occasions on which one of our ‘planes had shot down a Jerry at night. I picked the ‘plane up again circling leisurely to the south of the ‘drome. It passed behind me and came in beyond the flare-path, two pin-points of light, one red, one green. Then suddenly there it was gliding along the flare-path, its brakes squealing as it slowed up. At the end of the runway it turned and taxied back across the field to the dispersal point a hundred yards to the north of our site.
A few minutes later I saw the pilot walking slowly along the road. I got the glasses out and watched him. He still had his flying suit on and I could not see his face. But I would have recognised that lithe yet curiously shambling gait anywhere. It was John Nightingale — no doubt about it. He was walking on the same side of the road as our pit and would pass within a few yards of me. It was strange to see him alone after having accomplished something so big. I felt that the least the C.O. could have done would be to come out and meet him in his car.
As he came abreast of me I said, ‘Squadron-Leader Nightingale?’
‘Yes.’ He stopped.
I saluted. ‘It’s John Nightingale, isn’t it?’ I asked.
‘That’s right. Who’s that?’
‘Barry Hanson.’
‘Barry Hanson?’ he repeated. Then, ‘Good God! Barry Hanson — of course.’ And he came over to the parapet and shook me by the hand. ‘What strange places one does meet people now.’ He grinned.
I could see his face in the diffused light of the moon. I should never have recognised him by his face, it was so changed. When I had last seen him he had been a fresh-complexioned lad of eighteen. Now his face was tanned and leathery, there were little lines at the corner of his eyes and he wore a small moustache along the edge of his upper lip. There was a white scar across his chin and the left cheek was disfigured by a burn. But his smile was the same. He smiled with his eyes as well as with his lips, and there was the old flash of gaiety and recklessness in it.
He vaulted to a seat on the parapet. ‘So you’re a gunner now? What were you doing before the war?’ I told him.
‘Well, well — so you didn’t like the insurance business. That was where you went from school, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘but it was too dead for me.’ And I told him how I’d cut out on my own. Then I asked him about himself. He had done his five years and then been accepted for permanent service. He had been promoted to squadron-leader shortly after war broke out, and had led his squadron in France.
‘What about your escapade tonight?’ I asked. ‘That crazy roll you did when you came in meant, I suppose, that you’d shot one down?’
‘Yes,’ he said with a careless laugh. ‘I was lucky. There’s only a thin layer of cloud at about two thousand. Above that it’s bright moonlight. I went up to twenty thousand, which is the height at which they were coming over. I figured that, as they were using a definite route, if I hung about right over the ‘drome I’d be sure to see one of them sooner or later. I hadn’t been up more than fifteen minutes when a Heinkel blundered right into me. I very nearly crashed it. I twisted on to his tail. I simply couldn’t miss him. He was like a great silver bird in the moonlight. Absolute sitter. After getting him, I hung about for a further half-hour in the hope of picking up another, but I had no luck, and in the end I had to come down. I gather they had stopped coming over.’
Then he went on to talk of old school friends that he had met. He was full of news of those who had joined the Services. And as we talked I was turning over in my mind whether to take him into my confidence and tell him of my suspicions about Vayle. It seemed such a heavensent opportunity. R.A.F. officers were given plenty of freedom. He probably had a car. He would have plenty of chances to ‘phone a wire from some exchange at a reasonable distance. He might even be going up to Town the next day, in which case he could ‘phone Bill Trent direct. And yet I was chary of getting myself into further trouble. Not that he was the sort of fellow to report anything I told him — but I did not know how discreet he would be.
At length he said, ‘Well, I must be getting along, I suppose, or they’ll be sending out a search party.’
I looked at my watch. It was just on two.
‘You’ve passed my guard nice and quickly for me,’ I said.
‘Good.’ He got down from the parapet. ‘Look, you must come and dine with me somewhere soon and we’ll have a really good talk over old times.’
I laughed. ‘I should like to,’ I said regretfully. ‘But I’m afraid it’s not possible. We’re not allowed outside the camp, and at the moment I’m confined to my site.’
‘Oh, have you been getting into trouble, then?’
I hesitated. And then I told him the whole thing — or rather, not quite all. I didn’t mention the plan for immobilising fighter stations. I didn’t want to run the risk of being thought too credulous again. But I told him about the pilot’s story of a raid on Friday and how the man had shut up like a clam as soon as he saw Vayle. I told him what I had learnt about the librarian and the attitude Winton had taken when it was discovered I had been wiring a colleague for information about Vayle. I explained, too, that a plan of the ground defences of the aerodrome had been found on a Nazi agent.
‘Yes, I heard about that,’ he said. ‘It’s rather extraordinary, because it was more than just a plan. It gave the approximate number of rounds on each gun site, and a complete plan of the wiring of Ops., Gun Ops. and the runway lights. The plan was made out by someone who had access to a great variety of information that is not usually available.’
‘That points to someone in authority,’ I said. ‘Vayle could get details like that. But I’ve got nothing on Vayle — nothing definite at all. It’s just that I’m suspicious, and I shan’t be satisfied till I know for certain whether my suspicions are justified or not.
“Is this fellow short with a rather fine head and iron-grey hair?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Long, almost sardonic features.’
That’s right. I met him tonight at the Spinning Wheel. It’s a sort of farmhouse turned night club up on the other side of the valley. He was there with a Waaf.’
‘Did he talk to anyone?’
‘Oh, he said cheerio to a number of pilots. The place practically lives on flying officers. Yes, he did have a chat with two fellows from Mitchet. But most of the evening he spent with this girl Elaine.’
‘Elaine?’ I was interested. I remembered what Kan had said. Promiscuity might be very useful to an agent.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘Can you get a message through to a fellow called Bill Trent on the Globe?’
‘Well, you know the ‘phones are very difficult and I believe there’s great delay on telegrams.’ He hesitated, and then he said: ‘But I might run up to Town tomorrow evening. I could ‘phone him then, if that’s any use to you. Mind you, I can’t promise. But I should be free. Anyway, I’ll do what I can. What do you want me to tell him?’
‘Just ask him to get all the information he can about Vayle. Tell him it may be of vital importance. You needn’t worry about him being indiscreet.’
‘O.K. I’ll do it if I can. What’s his home number?’ I told him. ‘Right. Well, I’ll be seeing you.’ He raised his hand in salute and strode off towards the officer’s mess. I went across to the hut and called Chetwood, who was my relief guard. It was two-fifteen. In a few minutes he came out and took over. I was so concerned about the steps I had taken to contact Bill Trent that I forgot to tell him anything about John Nightingale’s escapade. The atmosphere in the hut smelt stale behind the blackout curtains after the fresh night air. But I was too sleepy to worry about it as I tumbled into bed.