The Deep Dark Sleep

‘If there’s one thing I’m good at, Mr Lennox, it’s paperwork. And every life leaves a paper trail. When it comes to following documentary traces, I’m like a native tracker.’

‘Let me guess: Henry Williamson isn’t a fictitious identity.’

Fraser shook his head. ‘No. He was a South African, educated at an exclusive boarding school in Natal. Parents both dead, no brothers or sisters, and any other kin distant both in terms of relationship and geography. He served as an officer in the Great War, then nothing much on record for twenty years, other than his being a shareholder in various companies and buying two properties: a townhouse in Edinburgh and a large country property in the Borders. Then, just before hostilities break out, he renews his commission in the army, but with a totally different regiment from the one in which he served during the Great War.’

‘Let me guess again,’ I said. ‘He re-joined the army in Thirty-eight? Right about the time of the Triple Crown robberies?’

‘Exactly. You have to believe me, Lennox, I had no idea until then that the person I had known for all of these years was anyone other than Colonel Williamson.’

‘So when did you meet him?’

‘In Nineteen forty. He had been stationed at Edinburgh Castle and was moved up to Headquarters staff at Craigiehall, sometime between re-enlistment and Nineteen forty he had been promoted to full Colonel. He was put in charge of “special training” for hand-picked units of the Home Guard. I was selected to command a unit and, effectively, he became my senior officer. I tell you, Lennox, there wasn’t a thing about the man that didn’t ring true. There were even officers who remembered meeting him in France during the First War. How he managed that I can’t imagine, and it was the one thing that I still have trouble with. I just can’t reconcile that with him being a fake.’

‘It’s not that complicated. During the First War, Strachan was a deserter and an officer-impersonator, pretty much in the same way as Percy Toplis was. From what I can gather, he was a popular member of the officers’ mess. There were bound to be others who would remember him, whether he used the name Williamson or not.’

Fraser nodded. ‘I worked out that, at some point between Nineteen eighteen and Nineteen twenty-nine, the real Williamson must have died – probably murdered by his imposter, who stepped seamlessly into his life.’

‘That’s my guess too,’ I said. ‘After that, I reckon Strachan merely maintained the identity, without being too active within it. Although his daughters told me that he would disappear for long periods. Anyway, back to the war … what exactly were you and Strachan involved in?’

‘Officially the only Scallywag units were stationed along the south coast of England, where everyone thought the German invasion would take place. But it was worked out that large deployments of paratroopers and amphibious troops could be dropped or landed in the more remote parts of the Highlands and Scottish coastline. So the Duke of Strathlorne was put in command of special operations training for Auxiliary Home Guard units in Scotland.’

‘And after the war, you, Strachan and the Duke all remained tight in your little special forces club.’

‘Something like that. I was proud of what I did, Lennox. You have no idea what we were trained to do. If the invasion took place, we were to carry out sabotage and assassinations. Any senior public official who collaborated with the occupation was to be eliminated: politicians, council heads, even police chief constables. We had hidden arms dumps all over Scotland and enough rations to last us seven weeks.’

‘And what were you supposed to do after the seven weeks?’

Fraser laughed bitterly. ‘It was the same arrangement as the Scallywag units on the south coast of England … they gave us all seven weeks’ rations because they had worked out that we would all be dead before then.’

‘And these arms dumps … have they all been cleared out?’

‘No. Not at all. No one except the units themselves know where the dumps are. It’s the same all across Europe. The Duke is in contact with other organizations, including Gladio.’

‘I see,’ I said. I was beginning to understand.

‘The danger is still there, Lennox. Except it’s not the Nazis any more, it’s the Soviets. And they ground the Nazi war machine into dust; how long do you think it would take them to sweep across Europe? The only defence we have is the bomb.’

‘And the stay-behinds …’ I said. ‘So that is what this is all about. You and your Home Guard chums are still playing at soldiers. This isn’t just about Strachan protecting himself, it’s about protecting the Duke. Including protecting him from the kind of scandal his son was likely to cause.’

‘That’s about the size of it,’ said Fraser.

‘And Strachan – or Colonel Williamson – is in charge of security, is that it?’

‘Something like that. He recruits men straight out of the army: commandos, paratroopers, that kind of thing. New blood.’