BIGGLES PRESSES ON

More Adventures of Biggles and the Special Air Police

by Captain W. E. Johns

6. THE CASE OF THE AMBITIOUS FISHMONGER (Pages 114 – 133)

“It is natural to associate crime with such obvious objects of value as money, jewels, gold and silver plate, rare furs and the like; and it is on these of course that the professional thief concentrates his attention. But there are exceptions, and one case that came Biggles’ way provides an example. It illustrates also that while not all crooks carry guns there is a type as formidable as those who do”. Air Commodore Raymond hands Biggles a letter. It is from an official of the Scottish Fisheries Board at Elgin in Scotland, called Mr. Sinclair. He is concerned about night flying and believes the Air Ministry knows nothing about it. The letter to the Air Ministry has been passed to Raymond. Biggles agrees to fly up to Lossiemouth, which is only a few miles from Elgin. Biggles takes Ginger, “Bertie having the day off and Algy being busy on other work”. From Lossiemouth, they hire a car to visit Mr. Sinclair in High Street, Elgin. Sinclair reports that his water bailiffs have been hearing an aircraft regularly since April, always when the moon is full or nearly full. Sinclair says the mystery may be connected with one of his own. He thinks the plane may be carrying fish to London. Biggles asks “Do you seriously believe that it would be a sane proposition to transport by air inexpensive consumer goods that could more easily, and much more cheaply, be carried by road or rail? And why do it at night, anyway?” Sinclair answered with a touch of asperity. “Aviation is your business. Fish is mine”. Sinclair soon puts Biggles straight. “Broadly speaking a salmon can weigh anything between six and forty pounds. Let us put the average at ten pounds. The current price of salmon in the London market is fifteen shillings a pound (the book was published in January 1958 and this was therefore written in 1957). A ten-pound fish, therefore, is worth, in round figure, £7. (There were 20 shilings to the pound. £7.00 in 1957 is worth £147.50 in 2025). Five hundred salmon would be worth £3,500 (£73,750.00 in 2025). At certain seasons of the year there might be thousands of fish on one spawning bed”. Biggles looked startled. “You astonish me. I never realized that”. Sinclair goes on to explain that salmon cannot be identified once caught and they have many rivers. “In this area alone we have the Spey, the Dee, the Don, the Deveron, the Findhorn, the Ness and their tributaries”. (This story would have been very close to Johns’ heart. Johns lived at Pitchroy Lodge at Ballindalloch in Scotland from 1947 until 1953. Ballindalloch is only 22 miles away from Elgin and Johns lived alongside the River Spey. He spent a lot of his time salmon fishing as he thought up his Biggles stories. He would often send boxed salmon to friends and family in London and Reigate - however he sent them by train, not by aircraft). Sinclair explains how poachers catch fish by various methods, including poisoning the water of the river. “It kills everything in the river. By destroying the parr and the smolts, as the young salmon are called, the entire stock is wiped out and the river may remain dead for years”. Biggles asks if the poison makes the fish unfit for human consumption. He is told, “No. The flesh is not affected. Only the gills. The fish dies in agony. In a human being it would be like having acid poured into the lungs”. Biggles looked horrified. “For heaven’s sake!” What sort of men are these?” “They’re men who know the ways of salmon; Scots, I’m sorry to say, rough elements from the cities. They don’t carry weapons. They don’t need them. They’re big, rough brutes. It needs muscle to haul in a net of fish from a fast-flowing river”. Sinclair explains that he has men watching the rivers and the roads, and what few police they have co-operate, “but imagine how many men would be needed to patrol one river fifty or sixty miles long! One man is helpless against a gang. We’ve had men beaten up, kicked nearly to death and thrown into the river”. Sinclair is confident that the fish haven’t travelled by road as they stop cars and trucks. “There isn’t much traffic in the early hours of the morning”. In order to get a conviction, they have to catch the poacher with salmon in their possession. Sinclair knows when salmon has got through as the price in London, at the Billingsgate fish market slumps by three or four shillings a pound. He also knows that fish have arrives within hours of a river being poisoned, so they must travel by air. Biggles fingered his chin reflectively. “Now I realize that salmon are, as you say, five pound notes, I think you may be right. Frankly, I had no idea fish were so valuable”. Biggles decides this can only be tackled from the London end. He asks Sinclair to ring him at Scotland Yard if he suspects the poachers are out and he will watch Billingsgate fish market. Sinclair says that under Scottish law, poachers can now be sent to prison rather than just fined and they can seize all vehicles used. Biggles tells Sinclair that is would be better to catch the poachers in Scotland rather than England. Biggles and Ginger return to the aerodrome. “To-morrow morning we’ll have a look at Billingsgate to get our bearings and check the price of fish” says Biggles.

“For nearly three weeks no word came from Scotland, and Ginger was beginning to think the case had fizzled out when, one night, just as he was going to bed, the long-expected call came through from Mr. Sinclair. Actually, he phoned the Yard, but in accordance with Biggles’ instructions the message was passed on to him. It was brief. The gist of it was, the plane had been, and was last heard heading south”. Biggles and Ginger do not need to hurry to Billingsgate as they have to wait for the plane to fly down. They go to Billingsgate where they have previously noted those dealers who dealt largely in salmon. “It was just after 6 a.m. when the expected happened. They were standing in a position from which they could watch a number of stalls when a rough-looking man arrived at one of them, with a sack marked Bikstein Brothers on his back. As he tipped it, a pile of salmon slithered on to a slab”. Ginger follows the man to a Ford station wagon and sees him collect another load. He gets the number. The price of salmon has already dropped a shilling a pound by the time he returns to Biggles. They overhear the man say “That’s the lot. I’ll be in with another load in the morning”. Back at the Yard, Biggles and Ginger ascertain the station wagon was in the name of Hugo Bikstein of Bardswell House, Essex. A check of registered pilots shows an ex F/O R.A.F. called Hugo Bikstein. He holds a B licence and bought an Auster B.4 just over twelve months ago. He is an antique dealer who regularly flies to the continent. Biggles and Ginger drive to Bardswell House and pull in on a grass verge nearby. Biggles goes to explore the hanger. “If anyone stops us we’re looking for mushrooms” he tells Ginger. In the hanger is the plane. Biggles checks it to find the engine’s still warm, the tank nearly empty and the hold stinks like fish. Biggles also finds a map and a compass course still pinned to the instrument panel. “Amazing how careless people get when they think they’re so smart that there’s no danger”. They drive off.

“It was just after lunch when they walked into the Scottish Fisheries office at Elgin to find Mr Sinclair at his desk talking to a man whom he introduced as Captain Mackenzie, factor of a big estate through which flowed the River Findhorn”. Biggles is told that the poachers have raided the River Findhorn. Biggles explains what he has found out. “I’d rather you dealt with the whole bunch under Scottish law. It seems to be more effective than in England, where I’m afraid poaching is still regarded as a trivial offence. The ideal thing would be to catch the plane with the fish on board and confiscate it. Aircraft being the price they are that would hit the ringleader where it hurts most”. Biggles says he has reason to believe the plane is returning that night and asks if they know Culbin Sands. They do, it is where the Findhorn flows into the sea. Sinclair expects at least five or six men in the gang and Biggles asks him if he can lay on enough men to deal with them. “Don’t you worry about that,” said Sinclair, grimly. Some of my bailiffs who have been beaten up have been waiting for this moment for a long time”. “So have some of my gamekeepers and ghillies,” put in Mackenzie. The telephone rings and it is Algy for Biggles. He has been watching the aircraft and confirms that it has just left the ground. Biggles and Ginger go to have something to eat. “If this comes off,” said Ginger, as they went out into the street, “these fish poisoners are going to have an awful shock”. “Don’t fool yourself that it’s going to be easy,” replied Biggles, seriously. “Have you ever seen Highlanders fighting?” “No”. “You will,” promised Biggles. “And when you have you won’t forget it”.

“Ginger squatted on a tuft of rough grass in a slight hollow and gazed across a cold expanse of sombre sand to a lonely sea beyond. Nearby sat Biggles, Mr Sinclair, and a police sergeant and constable with the uniform Scottish check bands round their caps. They had been sitting there for some time, since seven o’clock”. Elsewhere are other groups of gamekeepers, ghillies, water bailiffs and the like, all hidden. A Land Rover arrives. “Now you know why you didn’t catch the car on the road,” Biggles told Mr Sinclair softly. “That Rover doesn’t need a road”. Then comes the purr of a light aero engine on half throttle. A torch is shown and the plane lands and taxis up to the light. Biggles’ party advances and Biggles says “Don’t blow your whistle until they spot us”. “Oddly enough, they were not seen until the last moment”. The whistle is blown and all the men close in on the plane at a run. “Make for the plane,” Biggles told Ginger, crisply. “We mustn’t let it get away”. Ginger jumps in the rear loading door and skids on a mass of fish. He is then punched in the face and knocked backwards out of the machine. (“A fist struck Ginger squarely in the face (page 132)” is the illustration opposite page 128). There is a struggling mass of humanity and Ginger is knocked down twice more before Biggles drags him clear. “What are you trying to do – get your teeth kicked in? Keep out of it. This isn’t our party”. Biggles says the constable has the pilot. “The fool started up, so I threw him out of the cockpit and switched off before someone got his skull sliced open with a metal airscrew”. The poachers fought hard, but the odds against them, with men as tough as themselves, were too great, and when they saw they were beaten they packed up”.

“That, as far as the Air Police were concerned, was the end of the inquiry as unusual as it was unexpected. It was also the end of as ambitious a gang of poachers as ever invaded the Scottish Highlands. Not only did they all go to prison, but Bikstein, with relatives in the fish business, who had worked out a plan for making what must have seemed like easy money, also lost some valuable property, which included an aeroplane and a motor-car. All Ginger got out of it, apart from a new respect for salmon, was a black eye which, when he returned to the office, provided an object for mirth for some days. “How’s the fishing to-day, old boy?” Bertie would ask. “How about a nice salmon steak for lunch?” Algy would inquire, with an air of innocence. “Or shall we make it sardines? They’re easier to handle”.