With much honor and respect to the late BBC man, Alan Whicker, whom died on 12 July 2013, exactly five years ago, I am posting this blog entry on his rare postwar crime novel. For those interested in reading about Mr. Whicker and his career, click on his name, above. For further information, check out the BBC Obituary and video.
“Some Rise by Sin” was published in 1951 by Stanley Baker Publications Ltd. (16 The Green, Richmond, Surrey). The novel runs 90 pages, and the publishers priced the novel at 1/9 (in the year 2000, this converts to 5.1 Pounds). Most paper-bound novels of this era were traditionally asking 1/- to 1/6, especially for a book of this page length. How did they get away with asking a higher rate when other mushroom publishers were asking less?
For those out there avidly collecting “drug” novels, this one ought to be a dream.
After his good friend, Basil Moore (a top newspaperman) is found dead, floating down the river Tiber, Alan Whicker, of the News-Dispatch, is assigned to the international hush-hush assignment of uncovering the filthy £10,000,000 drug racket that has taken hold of Europe. He must discover and infiltrate the distributors and unveil the identity of the ruthlessly sinister leader, known as Nummer Eins (Number One).
While on assignment, Whicker ends up falling in love with socialite Margo, a dancer and singer at the Golden Monkey nightclub. Sadly, he learns that she has rooming with her another man (Martyn) and they end up getting into a physical altercation. Whicker takes his lumps and ends up badly battered and bloody, but, victor in this embittered battle. He departs the nightclub, and despite Margo chasing and swooning over him, he shoves her affections aside. He has little interest in playing middle man to her love affair.
Wandering the streets and drinking at an all-night eatery, he returns to his quarters to find his bed occupied. He decides to let whomever it is sleep it off, but, realizes something is amiss. Going over to check his health status, he discovers the man isn’t breathing. Furthermore, it is Martyn, shot dead! Realizing that he has been framed for murder, Whicker heaves the body upon his shoulders and removes the corpse from the premises. He drives all over the city and out to the river to dispose of the cadaverous Martyn. Whicker (as author) introduces his fictional self to a humorous episode while trying to ditch the body. He’s pulled over by an International Patrol, which comprises of one British M.P., an American, a Frenchman, and a Russian. He quickly douses Martyn with liquor (in typical cliché form) and the police think he is just another drunkard.
Escaping their clutches, Whicker finally disposes of Martyn. Before doing so, he searches Martyn’s pockets. He finds a secreted document, in German, that reads: “Whicker einrifft Montag abend. Liquidierre ihn. Nummer Eins.” The note also supplies a phone number and the name of a boat. He returns to the late-night eatery to establish an alibi for his whereabouts, and returns later to his room. It isn’t long before local police arrive on the scene to investigate an anonymous tip. Unveiling no hidden dead bodies on the premises, they depart.
The next day, he dials the mysterious number only to discover it belongs to Margo! Is this loving vivacious girl the sinister Nummer Eins? It hardly makes sense. (Nor does it make sense to frame Whicker for murder and leave a note from the secret villain on his person; intentional? or a goof on the part of the author?)
Whicker confesses the all-night episode to his close compatriot, Gerry, whom is a locally stationed high-ranking officer. Together, the two infiltrate a drug den. Realizing they can’t depart without raising some eyebrows, they succumb to drugs. Whicker, unable to control his anxiety, relinquishes control of the situation to Gerry. The story shifts mostly to Gerry’s viewpoint on drugs. Unable to escape, they are offered a choice of “hashish, opium, heroin, a little morphine….” Gerry opts for peyote, much to the proprietor’s surprise. Forking over a thousand shillings for ten grains each, the pair are left in an isolated room, and the attendant injects both men. At the final moment, Whicker panics and begs not to be under the influence. Too late….
While initially loopy, Gerry explains the drug mescaline to Whicker, and its properties. After regaining a semblance of control over their mental and physical properties, the duo sneak out of the room and investigate other rooms. They are startled to see raving lunatics gone-too-far under the influence of cocaine, opium, etc. One room offers maniacs bouncing about from hallucinations. The effects of the peyote begins to finally really take effect, and they stumble back to their room.
Whicker elaborates on the effects of the drug, what he sees, feels, etc, for a few pages. One almost wonders if our BBC man actually has any first-hand experiences with drugs or if he cooperated with contacts that could supply information.
Eventually escaping the drug den from hell, Gerry and Whicker part ways. Whicker intends to make for Vienna, to follow-up another lead. While en route, he is pulled over and beaten nearly unconscious by two assailants. While delirious, he hears that they are ordered to murder him, but the other person present stays his hand from murder. Whicker later learns that his jeep was used as a means to pass something concealed, across the border. He was used as an unwitting accomplice, and Nummer Eins was at the back of this plot!
Whicker plods on, and chasing the mysterious boat that is preparing soon to leave (the one mentioned on Martyn’s note) he boards the vessel. He meets the captain, and knocks the man out. While out cold, Whicker sifts through the captain’s papers and finds the “case” that had been secreted on his jeep! It is filled with loose gems (diamonds, gold, pearls, rubies, emeralds, sapphires) and jewelry. He shows his newfound worldly goods to Gerry, and the pair return to the Golden Monkey, the club where Margo sings. They are certain the proprietor might recognize some of the jewelry and know who they belonged to originally. Why their interest in this angle? Well, the jewelry would have been relinquished in order to pay for the illegal drugs! So, whomever did so, is on drugs, and should know their point-of-contact. At least, that’s Whicker’s line of thought.
The proprietor, Tibor, recognizes only one piece, as belonging to…Margo! Whicker is stunned and disheartened. He later dines with Margo, and then drops the jewelry before her eyes, upon the table. He confronts her, but she only breaks down and cries. We are left to wonder if she truly is Nummer Eins or only a blubbering wreck because she ultimately knows this person’s true identity, and is afraid to tell the truth.
Dull and beside himself with serious depression, Whicker returns to the Golden Monkey to get drunk. While there, a British soldier walks in and salutes him in passing, while walking to the back, toward Tibor’s offices. Whicker is baffled as to why this man saluted him! True, he himself is in military attire, but, only a new recruit or recent transfer into the Zone would salute him, and, he knows neither are due to this area. Intrigued, he walks in on Tibor and this false soldier, only to find Tibor equally dressed as a soldier!
Tibor draws a handgun on Whicker, and explains the situation. The drug gang are removing themselves from Europe, with all their millions earned, and fleeing before the local governments discover and converge upon them. Irked that Whicker has survived all their murderous attempts, Tibor informs him that he won’t survive this one. The situation becomes stickier when Margo inexplicably walks in. She is oblivious that Tibor intends to murder Whicker. Margo again proclaims her love for Whicker, whom tries to convince her to flee the scene, lest Tibor kills her too.
His whole world ultimately crumbles when she confesses that she is Nummer Eins! However, she never ordered the kills. Tibor did all this behind her back. She was in charge purely for the money. After the war left her husbandless and destitute, she used her charms and allure to establish a foundation for illicit drug-trafficking throughout Europe. Margo never believed she would fall in love again until she met Whicker. Then, she didn’t care about her Nummer Eins identity any longer, or the money. Willing to abandon the whole lot to Tibor and his mad crew, she attempts to save Whicker’s life but is gut-shot for her efforts.
Tibor and the gang flee, but all of Europe are put on high alert. They are found, eventually. Tibor is gunned down and the rest arrested, along with many corrupt political figures, etc.
Margo dies on the floor from the gunshot wound, in Whicker’s arms, whom forgives her for her illegal transgressions. He buries under in her native Austrian lands, under a tall elm tree. Grim and despondent, he leaves her and the churchyard, to return back to England….
Alan Whicker writes a very serious exposé of the world’s ultra secret underworld and drug trafficking problems following the conclusion of the second world war, supplying raw data on various countries, a variety of drugs and their concerns, etc. As the hero of our tale, Whicker must face unscrupulous military men, bed down a variety of foreign ladies, succumb to drugs himself (twice) to maintain his secret assignment (even though everyone seems to already know his assignment), dodge assassination attempts, survive brutal beatings, and get liquored-up repetitively. Initially I was disgusted with the novel and its blasé attitude toward various ethnic groups and countries, but, we must understand that Whicker was writing, on one level, a formula novel, and on another level, a novel rich and colored by the natural biases of the reading public. It is an outstanding literary endeavor and well-worth my time spent reading it.
Inside, on the title page, it says he is also the author of the following:
- International City
- Threat of the Future
- Hell Ship
- Korea Man (in Men Only, March 1951)
I have found that Whicker was a regular contributor to Men Only, appearing in at least 20 issues, perhaps more. It is in all likelihood that all the above entries appeared in that publication. He also supplied at least one short crime tale to Courier (April 1950). I think it would be interesting to read all of his early literary output and perhaps have them collected (with the estates permission).