Blackest of Lies (32 page)

Map of Orkney

This book has been rattling around in my head for more years than I care to remember.  I have bored for Britain on the subject and to all those who suffered as a result, I apologise from the bottom of my heart.

My wife and I visited Broome House a few years back and were warmly received by Ms O’Shaughnessy, who showed us around and let us view Kitchener’s bedroom.  It was an eerie feeling to say the least.  My thanks go to Broome for all the help they gave, then and afterwards.  They do weekly tours, by the way – well worth a visit.

My greatest thanks, however, is reserved for my friend since childhood in darkest Glasgow – David Neilson – who heroically trudged through acres of verbal manure to distil the tiny fraction worth keeping.  It constantly reminded me of Marie Curie and her Pitchblende.  Without his help, suggestions and guidance, this book would never have been in a state to launch on a defenceless public.

As for research, the book which started me off was Donald McCormick’s “The Mystery of Lord Kitchener’s Death”, Putnam, 1959.  Copies are as rare as hen’s teeth now but it’s well worth a read.  It will show you just how little was invented to make
Blackest
.

Hansard records of the time were very useful, although I ended up chopping out the House of Commons scenes where attempts were made to reduce Kitchener’s salary.

You can still order copies of the Admiralty White Paper Comd. 2170 “The Loss of HMS Hampshire”.  It is interesting to compare the rather bland assertions of the official report against McCormick’s first-hand accounts.  There is reputed to have been a secret report.  Indeed Sir George Arthur was reputedly offered sight of this report by the First Lord of the Admiralty (Lord Long) in 1920 on the understanding that he would not divulge any aspect of it.  He is said to have refused but, in his subsequent biography, he refers to Kitchener’s voyage to Russia as “the secret of whose journey had been betrayed”.

Various other bits and pieces swam into view from other, less well-known sources but readers are encouraged to visit Jane Storey’s website
www.hmshampshire.co.uk
.  Sadly, the website has fallen into some disrepair of recent years but there are still some interesting photographs to be seen there.  Opposite the actual site of the sinking, Orkney boasts a nice little visitor centre and the monument is worth a visit, too.  Orkney currently (2015) has plans to add to the memorial.  It’s a fair trudge to Orkney but it’s a magical place – a sort of Neolithic navel of the earth.  If you can get there, don’t miss the chance.

Bill Aitken is an IT specialist who served for 20 years as an officer in the Royal Air Force.  It was during a tour with NATO in Norway that he first came across Donald McCormick’s 1959 book “The Mystery of Lord Kitchener’s Death” and he has maintained that interest ever since.  This has expanded into a fascination with the First World War in general, particularly where it involved the Security Services. 

In his spare time, Bill writes too much computer code for his own good and has a soft spot for 19
th
Century fiction.

And that’s it – if you have enjoyed reading
Blackest of Lies,
please take time to jump back to the Amazon page and leave a positive review.

You’ll find the review page for this book at http://amzn.to/198t0OI.

Thank you for buying the book and don’t forget to check out the taster for the sequel on the next page.

Warmest Regards,

              Bill Aitken

1916

Far north of the Arctic Circle, Baron von Rosen delivers arms and food to Finnish rebels, fighting against their Russian occupiers.  This time – well – this time he’s bringing something
very
special, indeed.

              Chris Hubert and Anne Banfield have returned to MI5 after recovering from their ordeal in the waters of the Pentland Firth.  German saboteurs are working in US harbours to destroy ammunition bound for the European Front.  They’re “old friends” of MI5 and the US authorities have asked the War Office to help them stop a planned “outrage”.

              Reluctantly, Hubert and Banfield join forces with the civilian authorities in New York to prevent the best efforts of von Papen and the German Embassy to cause mayhem in the still-neutral county.  But the plot is too advanced and Black Tom pier is devastated by their destruction of ammunition barges and trains.

              In the chaos surrounding them, Banfield takes hold of a new thread – a programme of bio-warfare devised and managed by Doctor Anton Dilger to spread anthrax and bubonic plague in Europe.  Horses and mules, destined for the Front, are being infected with anthrax by German sympathisers.  Baltimore harbour is where it starts.

              But Dilger is not a man to be easily caught and he slips back to Germany, leaving Hubert and Banfield to mop up his operations while he continues to weaponise his cultures for the Kaiser.  His newest creation will change the course of the war.

              Von Rosen keeps his promises to the Finnish rebels.  Dilger has presented him with boxes of sugar cubes, each containing its own tiny ampule of anthrax.  The Russian mules will love them and, when they become infected, so will their masters.  But Dilger, of course, wants something in return – a repeat performance on
English
soil.

Hubert, supported by MI6, head for Finland, following a tip-off by the Norwegian Secret Police, while Anne remains behind in London.  Hubert breathes a sigh of relief when they recover the anthrax but, in each box, one cube is missing.

Captured members of the von Rosen group reveal that a human subject in England is to be victim number one – some woman from the Security Services. 

Dilger bears grudges …