Clifton Chronicles 01 - Only Time Will Tell (53 page)

BOOK: Clifton Chronicles 01 - Only Time Will Tell
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A New York Port Authority tug boat came out to join them and guided the
Kansas Star
safely to its berth on number seven dock. When Harry saw the cheering crowds, he began to feel apprehensive for the first time, even though the young man who was sailing into New York that morning was far older than the fourth officer who’d left Bristol only three weeks earlier.

‘Smile, Tom.’

Harry turned to see Richard looking down into a Kodak Brownie Box camera. He was peering at an upside-down image of Tom, with the Manhattan skyline as a backdrop.

‘You’ll be one passenger I sure won’t forget in a hurry,’ said Kristin, as she walked across to join him so that Richard could take a second photograph of them together. She had exchanged her nurse’s uniform for a smart polka-dot dress, white belt and white shoes.

‘Nor me you,’ said Harry, hoping that neither of them could sense how nervous he was.

‘Time for us to go ashore,’ said Richard, closing the shutter of his camera.

The three of them took the wide staircase down to the lower deck, where several passengers were already streaming off the ship to be reunited with relieved relatives and anxious friends. As they made their way down the gangway, Harry’s spirits were lifted by how many of the ship’s passengers and crew wanted to shake him by the hand and wish him luck.

Once they’d stepped on to the dockside, Harry, Richard and Kristin headed towards immigration, where they joined one of four long queues. Harry’s eyes darted about in every direction, and he wanted to ask so many questions, but any one of them would have revealed that this was the first time he’d set foot in America.

The first thing that struck him was the patchwork quilt of different colours that made up the American people. He’d only ever seen one black man in Bristol, and remembered stopping to stare at him. Old Jack had told him it was both rude and inconsiderate, adding, ‘How would you feel if everyone stopped to stare at you just because you were white?’ But it was the noise, the bustle and the sheer pace of everything around him that most caught Harry’s imagination and made Bristol seem as if it were languishing in a bygone age.

He was already beginning to wish that he’d accepted Richard’s offer to stay with him overnight and perhaps spend a few days in a city he was finding so exciting even before he’d left the dockside.

‘Why don’t I go through first?’ said Richard, as they reached the head of the queue. ‘Then I can pick up my car and meet you both outside the terminal.’

‘Good idea,’ said Kristin.

‘Next!’ shouted an immigration officer.

Richard walked up to the desk and handed over his passport to the official, who glanced briefly at the photo before stamping it. ‘Welcome home, Lieutenant Tibbet.’

‘Next!’

Harry stepped forward, uncomfortably aware that he had no passport, no identification and someone else’s name.

‘My name’s Tom Bradshaw,’ he said with a confidence he didn’t feel. ‘I think the purser of the SS
Kansas Star
telegraphed ahead to warn that I would be coming ashore.’

The immigration officer looked closely at Harry, then picked up a sheet of paper and began to study a long list of names. Finally he put a tick by one before turning round and nodding. For the first time, Harry noticed two men standing on the other side of the barrier, wearing identical grey suits and grey hats. One of them gave him a smile.

The immigration officer stamped a piece of paper and handed it to Harry. ‘Welcome back, Mr Bradshaw. It’s been a long time.’

‘Sure has,’ said Harry.

‘Next!’

‘I’ll wait for you,’ said Harry as Kristin made her way to the desk.

‘I’ll only be a moment,’ she promised.

Harry passed through the barrier and entered the United States of America for the first time.

The two men in grey suits stepped forward. One of them said, ‘Good morning, sir. Are you Mr Thomas Bradshaw?’

‘That’s me,’ said Harry.

The words were hardly out of his mouth before the other man grabbed him and pinned his arms behind his back, while the first man handcuffed him. It all happened so quickly that Harry didn’t even have time to protest.

He remained outwardly calm, as he had already considered the possibility that someone might work out that he wasn’t Tom Bradshaw, but in fact an Englishman called Harry Clifton. Even so, he had assumed that the worst they could do was serve him with a deportation order and have him shipped back to Britain. And as that was exactly what he’d planned to do anyway, he didn’t put up a fight.

Harry spotted two cars waiting by the sidewalk. The first was a black police car, with its back door being held open by another unsmiling man in a grey suit. The second was a red sports car, with Richard sitting on the bonnet, smiling.

The moment Richard saw that Tom had been handcuffed and was being led away, he leapt up and began to run towards him. At the same time, one of the police officers began to read Mr Bradshaw his rights, while the other continued to grip Harry firmly by the elbow. ‘You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney.’

A moment later Richard was striding by their sides. He glared at the officers and said, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you,’ continued the first policeman, while the other ignored him.

Richard was clearly amazed by how relaxed Tom appeared, almost as if he wasn’t surprised to have been arrested. But he was still determined to do anything he could to assist his friend. He leapt forward and blocked the officers’ path and said firmly, ‘What are you charging Mr Bradshaw with, officer?’

The senior detective came to a halt, looked Richard in the eye, and said, ‘First degree murder.’

ALSO BY JEFFREY ARCHER

NOVELS

Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less

Shall We Tell the President?

Kane and Abel

The Prodigal Daughter

First Among Equals

A Matter of Honour

As the Crow Flies

Honour Among Thieves

The Fourth Estate

The Eleventh Commandment

Sons of Fortune

False Impression

The Gospel According to Judas

(
with the assistance of Professor Francis J. Moloney
)

A Prisoner of Birth

Paths of Glory

SHORT STORIES

A Quiver Full of Arrows

A Twist in the Tale

Twelve Red Herrings

The Collected Short Stories

To Cut a Long Story Short

Cat O’ Nine Tales

And Thereby Hangs a Tale

PLAYS

Beyond Reasonable Doubt

Exclusive

The Accused

PRISON DIARIES

Volume One – Belmarsh: Hell

Volume Two – Wayland: Purgatory

Volume Three – North Sea Camp: Heaven

SCRRENPLAYS

Mallory: Walking Off the Map

False Impression

My thanks go to the following people for their invaluable advice and research:

John Anstee, Simon Bainbridge, John Cleverdon, Eleanor Dryden, George Havens, Alison Prince, Mari Roberts, Susan Watt, David Watts and Peter Watts

First published 2011 by Macmillan

This electronic edition published 2011 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com

ISBN 978-0-230-76038-7 EPUB

Copyright © Jeffrey Archer 2011

The right of Jeffrey Archer to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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www.panmacmillan.com
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Table of Contents

MAISIE CLIFTON: 1919

PRELUDE

HARRY CLIFTON: 1920-1933

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

MAISIE CLIFTON: 1920-1936

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

HUGO BARRINGTON: 1921-1936

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

OLD JACK TAR: 1925-1936

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

GILES BARRINGTON: 1936-1938

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

EMMA BARRINGTON: 1932-1939

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

HARRY CLIFTON: 1939-1940

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

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