Read Online The Collectors - Book Four: Diamonds and Sand (The Collectors Series 4) by Ron Sewell - Free Book Online Page B

up at him. “Not being able to find any information doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” She continued manipulating the keyboard and squealed as a young girl. “Gotcha. Have you ever heard of the War Diaries?”
                  “Can’t say I have. Why?”
                  Her fingers never stopped hitting the keys.
                  “Where are we now?”
                  “National Archives, Kew, and they are directing us to the War Records of each campaign. Right, we are now in Egypt with the British Army Operations and back to Long Range Desert Group. Small independent units maintained a daily record of events. They were arranged by the command.  Full circle except,” her fingers rattled the keyboard, “if you want the information you need to go to Hereford. What you’re seeking might be there. Wait a minute.” She punched a number into her desk phone, placed it on loudspeaker and waited.
                  A gruff voice answered. “Good Morning, Major Majer, Records. How can I help?"
                  “Good morning, Major, Susan Masters, Imperial War Museum. I have a Mr Kyriades, a writer investigating North Africa and the involvement of Jews in the British Army. In particular, LRDG or Special Forces. Can you help?”
                  “Ah, long time since we last had a chat. LRDG, Ralf Bagnold’s motley crew. Reconnaissance outfit if my memory serves, Bagnold and Stirling were great friends and maybe they were part of a few clandestine ops. I’ll need to check the war diaries to be sure but I believe a couple of units operated independent of the regular army, with orders direct from the top. Give me an hour and I’ll get back.”
                  Mrs Masters thanked him before replacing the handset.
                  Petros looked thoughtful. “I hope he finds something.”
    “If it’s there he’ll find it. Would you like to buy me a coffee in our restaurant while we wait? Old Major Majer will be scurrying around like a rat searching for breadcrumbs. This way.”
    They strolled through the corridors hidden from the public and entered the light airy cafe. Mrs Masters sat at the first empty table and Petros positioned himself opposite.
    A young woman approached and took their order of two coffees, one black with no sugar and a cappuccino.
    “So what do we discuss for the next hour?” asked Petros.
    Her gaze was bright as she said, “What’s the genre of your book?”
    Petros’ expression gave no clues. “Action and adventure. You see these two ex-soldiers retrieve things for clients. At a price, of course.”
    The ir coffee arrived. Petros paid.
    “How long ha ve you worked here, Mrs Masters?”
    “Five years.”
    “And before that?”
    “ Oxford Uni with an army bursary. I studied languages; Russian and Spanish. Got a double first. I joined the army full time, made lieutenant before I jacked it in. Now I’m the records officer in a museum.”
    “Why did you leave?”
    “Afghanistan. Couldn’t handle the idea of being blown to bits. My husband’s on his second tour. I hate it every time the phone rings.”
    They continued to chat until her mobile buzzed. “I have it redirected from my office. Comes in handy. She looked at the screen. “It’s the major. Hi, find anything?” She listened without interrupting.
    She glanced at Petros. “When could you be at Hereford?”
    “Tomorrow. What time?”
    “Thanks, Major. Mr Kyriades will be at the main gate for midday.” She placed the mobile on the table. “He’s found a bundle of documents covering 1941 to 1942. He’ll meet you at the guard house at noon.”
    “ Brilliant. Thank you so much for your help.”
    “You’re welcome. Made today interesting. Saved me from dusting files. Are you really a writer?”
    “Good question but I’ll leave you to ponder the answer. Thanks again. Bye. ”
    Petros walked out of the cafe , across the