BIGGLES OF THE SPECIAL AIR POLICE

by Captain W. E. Johns

VI. THE CASE OF THE REMARKABLE PERFUME (Pages 125 – 145)

“As Biggles entered the office of his chief at Scotland Yard, Air-Commodore Raymond of the Air Section, his eyes rested for a moment on a small, lean, tired-looking little man who sat in the visitor’s chair. He noticed that his skin was of that curious pallor, a sort of neutral tint, that is so often the result of living in an unhealthy part of the tropics”. The man is introduced as Mr. Eustace Cotter and he is a prospector, who specialises in the aromatic oils and gums from which most perfumes are derived, “For which purpose, I should tell you, I am financed by the well-known firm of Goray” (a fictional company, although the word is also an Urdu word for ‘white person’). Cotter goes on to explain the importance of the perfume business and explains the importance of the seeds of plants, including Vanilla. “The word itself is Spanish, meaning a little scabbard, because that is the shape of the seed-pod”. Biggles smiled. “I’ll remember it every time I eat an ice-cream,” he promised. Cotter shows Biggles a small, insignificant flower, pale-blue in colour and tells him it is an orchid. “Okay,” agreed Biggles, without emotion. “If you say so, it’s an orchid. I’m no gardener”. (Johns must have written that with a wry smile as he himself was a very keen gardener, writing a monthly column called ‘The Passing Show’ in ‘My Garden’ magazine from February 1937 to October 1944). Cotter says the flower is worth to the country that first produces it on a commercial scale, at a conservative estimate, twenty million pounds. “And how much do you, personally, get out of that?” inquired Biggles dryly. “Something, naturally, I hope,” admitted Mr. Cotter frankly. “Why, otherwise, should I risk my life looking for such things?” Cotter shows Biggles the seeds of the plant and instantly the room was flooded with the most wonderful fragrance. Even Biggles was impressed. Cotter says the first in the market with that perfume will take the lead over every competitor. Every woman will want it. Cotter explains his problem. The plant grows in the heart of the South American jungle – to be specific in the hinterland of British Guiana (since 26^th May 1966, the independent nation of Guyana) and he spent two years of his life trying to find it after hearing native rumour. When he did find it, it was the wrong time of the year, the seeds were not ripe and he was too ill to remain. Cotter had employed native bearers for his expedition and “in charge of them was a half-caste named Ramon”. He deserted as soon as they returned to civilisation and Cotter has found out that he has gone to a foreign firm who have financed him to go back and “collect seeds of my botanical treasure”. The only way to beat him is to race him to the spot. “Ah!” murmured Biggles. “I get it. Your idea is to fly there and beat him to it?” “It’s hardly a police job,” observed Biggles doubtfully. Raymond thinks it could be: “Stealing the fruits of the expedition makes him just as much a thief as if he had made off with a piece of equipment” adding “Ramon does not hold a Government licence to explore for profit, so he’s breaking the law anyway”. “I agree, if you put it like that,” answered Biggles. “For moral reasons alone the rascal shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. I’m all against rogues prospering”. Biggles says he is prepared to go if Cotter comes with him. (The next part of the story is prefixed with a “II”). Three days later a twin-engined “Scud” amphibian of the Police Flight made a landfall at Natal, in Brazil, having crossed the Atlantic on the regular track from Dakar, in West Africa. In it are Biggles, Algy, Bertie, Ginger and Mr. Cotter. After eating and refuelling they fly on to Georgetown, the capital of British Guiana. Cotter makes enquiries about Ramon, but there is no news of him. There was good reason to hope they were ahead of the “renegade employee”. Shortly after dawn, they take off to fly the last two hundred miles to their objective, following the Essequibo River (the largest river in Guyana). Biggles is careful to survey the stretch of water where Cotter wants him to land. Cotter says that the wood in the forest was so hard that it didn’t float. Avoiding large colonies of wading birds, Biggles makes a safe landing. Cotter is overjoyed by air travel as it took him two months to get there on the last occasion. Ginger decides to go with Cotter to where the orchids grow, as a matter of interest and a chance to stretch his legs. He takes a rifle merely for the feeling of security it gives him. Cotter says “It was unfortunate that Ramon happened to be with me on the last occasion that I used this path, otherwise he would not have known the exact habitat of the orchid. Usually, he stayed in camp, being lazy by nature. The crafty rascal must have had a shrewd idea that the orchid was about here. He knew what I was looking for, of course. Indeed, I made no secret of it”. Ginger smells an exotic fragrance when they arrive and Cotter spends some time collecting the seeds he wants. Ginger hears an aircraft and Cotter suggests Biggles may be moving their aircraft out of the full glare of the sun. They start on the return journey and suddenly come “face to face with two men, one white and one brown, who were striding along the track”. Before Ginger can react, they find themselves staring stupidly into the muzzles of two revolvers. One of the men, Ramon, relieves Cotter of his bag of seeds and Ginger of his rifle. He then says “Come on, Joe” to his companion and they leave, laughing. Ginger is very angry with himself. “I ought to be kicked from one end of America to another”. He should have realised the machine they heard was not theirs and he should have had his rifle ready and not slung over his shoulder. Cotter says it was probably a good thing he didn’t. “Ramon is a dead shot with that revolver of his. I don’t know about the white man. I presume that was the pilot who flew him here”. They both rush back to Biggles and soon meet Bertie coming the other way. “Ginger, in his exasperation, did not waste time in futile greetings, but at once rapped out the story of their disaster”. Bertie said that Biggles had thought something may happen and sent him along to help. They saw the other aircraft land down on the next lake. Bertie suggests they go back and pick more seeds. “Biggles says we’re not to come back without the goods”. They go back and fill Bertie’s haversack with the seeds and fill their pockets as well. Ginger is impatient to get back and when they do, he is annoyed to find Biggles and Algy just “having a cup of tea as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened”. Biggles asks if he has “Got the stuff?” “We’ve got the stuff all right,” answered Ginger, “So has that rat Ramon,” he added grimly. He described briefly what had happened. “Instead of sitting here having a tea-party, what’s wrong with going after him?” he concluded belligerently. “Maybe we can still race him to the coast”. Biggles tells him there is no hurry, Ramon’s machine is still on the water and he's probably having a little trouble getting started. Biggles says the pilot should have watched over the machine. Algy and Biggles went over and had a look at it and removed the spark plugs. Biggles asks Cotter if Ramon can still get back to the coast without an aircraft and Cotter says he is an experienced jungle traveller, but it will take him six weeks. “That, I imagine, would give you time to register the new perfume, and to put it on the market?” “Ample time” replies Cotter. Biggles says they are acting in self-defence to prevent further mischief. The two men have held up Cotter and Ginger at the point of a pistol and stolen Ginger’s rifle. Everyone boards the aircraft and Biggles taxes out to the middle of the lake to take off. Two men rush into the shallows, waving at them frantically. “Save your strength, you rascals,” Biggles told them. “You’ll need it”. He takes off and flies over the jungle. “Fancy having to walk home through that little lot,” mutter Ginger. Biggles laughed. “Did you ever hear of poetic justice? Well, you can call this perfumed justice”. Biggles hummed softly to himself as he set a course for the coast.