Riptide

§ 53

Inspector Drew held the ration book up to the light. Then he took a large magnifying glass from the top drawer of his desk, and scrutinised it. It was a full minute before he spoke. ‘It’s as though he’d signed it. The silly sod.’

Stilton said nothing. He liked Drew. He was his opposite as a copper-young, technically-trained, a desk and paper man, a meticulous man with a field of expertise at his fingertips, not the shoe-leather, brown mac and make-it-up-as-you-go-along copper he knew himself to be. More than he liked him, he admired Drew. It was hard not to. In his way he was the English, the civilised version of that lunatic Pole Kolankiewicz out at the Hendon lab. You admired Kolankiewicz, you respected his talent, but you’d never say you liked him.

‘It’s perfection. What the Ministry of Food aspires to and will never attain. So silly. It would be a piece of cake for him to make a messy one, but no-he has to turn in a work of art.’

‘He?’ Stilton said. ‘Who’s he?’

‘Forsyte. Lawrence Forsyte. It’s his work. I’ve no doubt about it. Best in the business. Least he was till I nicked him in ‘37. Five to seven years for forging five-pound notes.’

Stilton found this confusing.

‘We didn’t have ration books in 1937. And this is bang up to date.’

Drew put the paraphernalia of his trade down and chewed a moment on the end of his pencil.

‘Walter-what I have to tell you must go no further. You do understand that, don’t you?’

‘O’ course.’

‘Forsyte served less than three years. He was paroled in January last year.’

‘Then it’s time we yanked on his leash. He could go down for another stretch for this, as well as the one he hasn’t finished.’

‘No, Walter. That’s just it. He can’t and he won’t. Forsyte works for us now. Or to be more accurate, for your lot.’

‘The Branch?’

‘Not quite-but you do have the same masters. Penny dropped now, has it? Good. Larry forges all the German stuff we need to send our chaps into occupied territory. Travel permits, identity cards. They’ve even got him at work on Reichsmark notes. Whatever he’s done, he’s pretty well untouchable.’

‘What he’s done is forge ration books. If that’s for the war effort I’m a monkey’s uncle!’

‘Well-I’m sure he’d say the temptation was too great. I keep an eye on him, of course. Helps to let him know he’s not entirely ignored by the Forgery Squad. But most of the time they use your colleagues in the Branch as nothing more than go-betweens, and the truth is they let him do what he wants-orders, naturally-and with that kind of freedom he’ll dabble in this sort of thing just to see if he can do it. I shouldn’t think it bothers the spooks-if they have to turn a blind eye to it, then of course they will.’

‘I took this off a dead German agent two nights back. How do you explain that? Is that dabbling?’

‘I don’t explain it. And I’m inclined to take it as seriously as you do.’

‘Then you’ll tell me where I can find him?’

‘If I do-two things. First, you never got his address from me, and second, you can threaten him all you like, but you can’t pull him. Shout at him, let him taste the back of your hand, tickle his ribs with a truncheon, if you like, but if you go after Forsyte all you’ve got is one big bluff.’

‘Story of my career,’ said Stilton.

Even now Drew was still thinking about it, teeth clamped onto his pencil, little flakes of yellow paint sticking to his lip.

‘OK. He has a printing shop in Silver Place. Nothing more than an alley at the end of Beak Street. You’ll find him in the cellar.’

‘I’ll find him? You mean you’re not coming?’

‘Sorry, Walter. You’re on your own. Whatever you do when you get there, I don’t want to know. And if he picks up the phone to Military Intelligence, I shall want to know even less.’