Chapter XI - The Diary

Radnor Road was in a new part of Lychford. The Bowles’ house was a large, modern one. There was a high fence around the house and garden.
The four friends walked up to the front door. Jack rang the doorbell twice, but there was no answer.
He turned away from the door and began to walk to the back of the house. He had to het inside. The others followed him.
At the back of the house, there was some white furniture in the garden. And there were two tall glass doors, which led into the house. They were not locked. Jack pulled open one door and took a step into a large room.
‘Wait for me here,’ he said to the others.
The room was an office. Jack could see a desk, a computer, a metal cupboard and lots of bookshelves.
There was a strange, frightening feeling in the room. For a moment, Jack wanted to leave. Then he saw a small green notebook on the desk.
‘That’s the Squadron Leader’s diary,’ Jack said to himself. ‘I must read it’
He walked slowly towards the desk. It was very difficult for him to move now. Something wicked was trying to stop him.
Jack’s fingers touched the diary. It was very, very cold…

Suddenly, it was night – dark, dark night. After first, Jack couldn’t see anything. Then he knew where he was. He was standing in the middle of Lychford Green airfield. He was near the control tower. But it wasn’t a ruin, covered with grass and weeds. It was a new control tower. There were other new buildings nearly. Jack heard a car passing a few metres away. Then he heard people walking about. He was back in 1940!
Two hundred metres away, Jack saw some large shapes. They were black against the dark sky. He had seen the ruins of these buildings from the air, earlier that day. Aircraft were kept in them. He knew that. He walked towards them.
When he was near the first building, Jack heard a sharp noise inside it. He went quietly into the building. There were several Spitfires inside.
Jack stood under the wing of the nearest Spitfire. A man was working on the plane. Immediately, Jack knew something about him. He was a wicked man!
Jack waited. After a while, the man finished his work and he turned around. Jack could see the man’s face now. The boy had seen that face before – in an old photo at the museum. It was the face of Squadron Leader Leighbridge-Smith. The Squadron Leader was the traitor at Lychford Green airfield!
‘This Spitfire is Glen Loostthawk’s plane,’ Jack thought. ‘Today is the 23rd of August, 1940. on the 24th, Glen’s plane will crash. He will die and so will the four evacuees. The Squadron Leader broke something inside Glen’s plane. He is a murderer!’

‘… and what are you doing in my house?’ a woman’s voice was shouting. ‘How did you get in here?’
Frankie, Tom and Regan were in the room with Jack now. The woman who was shouting at them was wearing a bathrobe. A towel was tied around her head.
‘We rang the front doorbell,’ Tom said quickly. ‘There was no answer, so we came round to the back of the house.’
‘You walked into my house while I was taking a bath!’ the woman shouted. ‘I’m going to call the police.’
‘No, please don’t do that,’ Jack said. ‘My name is Jack Christmas. I phoned you yesterday. I wanted to talk to your husband.’
‘My husband is busy at the airfield,’ Mrs Bowles said. ‘He isn’t going to speak to you.’
‘He’s at the airfield?’ Regan said. ‘Does he work for Facelift Construction?’
‘My husband owns Facelift Construction,’ Mrs Bowles replied. ‘Now get out of my house – all of you!’
There was nothing more that the children could do. They walked slowly down Radnor Road. As they were walking along, Jack told them his story.
‘So the Squadron Leader was the traitor,’ Regan said. ‘Mr Bowles must know about it. He knows what’s in his grandfather’s diary. He understands the code. That’s why he doesn’t want us to see diary.’
‘But why did the Squadron Leader kill Glen?’ Frankie asked.
‘Glen found out the truth,’ Tom said. ‘So the traitor killed him. It’s simple.’
‘And the proof of the traitor’s wickedness is under the ground somewhere on the airfield,’ Regan said quickly. ‘Mr Bowles knows that, and he is looking for the proof too. But we must find it first!’