Questionable Results

by R A Wallace

  “You are saying that the United States Army would be interested in such a code?” she asked.

  “Not to mention the Navy,” Wes said. “They are the ones who control a high-powered radio chain that allows communication across a very large area of the globe.”

  “There are stations strategically located to aid in the transmission,” Otis said. “San Diego and Pearl Harbor, for example.”

  “Securing the transmission of communication is vital. Of course, the Navy is already using their own secret code but there is always the chance that it can be broken.” Wes leaned back in his seat. “And unfortunately, the allies aren’t the only ones interested in communicating. Our enemy also sends messages and they want them to remain private. In some cases, the allies have managed to crack enemy code currently in use.”

  “If the enemy should change to a new code that is reported to be unbreakable, the tide could change,” Otis said quietly.

  “And you have entrusted all of this into Miss Markham’s hands?” Once again, her astonishment was clear.

  “Judson is working the case.” His argument sounded weak, even to his ears. “And, as you know, it is important that we focus on finding the fiend who hired Luther Killian to shoot us.”

  Virginia’s eyes went to the clock on the mantel. “If you will excuse me.”

  Wes was relieved there would be no more questions. “Of course.”

  Otis watched Virginia leave the room then crossed over to take a seat across from Wesley. “How was the gathering?”

  “It went,” Wes said. “I believe the new military officers and other personnel were given an appropriate welcome.”

  “At least we successfully managed to keep your sister from the Liberty Loan parade.”

  ***

  Delia nodded a greeting to the police officer guarding Sylvia Chrisman as she approached the front of the cabin. The tired-looking woman opened her door to Delia a moment later.

  “I have more questions.” Delia studied the woman in front of her. It was obvious the stress was working at her nerves. “Perhaps you should sit?”

  Sylvia wrapped her arms around herself. “I cannot seem to settle.”

  “I’ll make you some tea,” Delia suggested as she moved toward the small kitchen.

  After adding water to the kettle from the hand pump in the sink, she set the kettle on the stove and lit the kerosene burner. Sylvia sank rather heavily into a chair at the table. Delia turned to face her.

  “You told me before that Marcus kept his notes with him.” She watched Sylvia nod absently. “The police did not find any notes. Did they ask you for any details about Marcus’s work?”

  “I didn’t tell them anything.” Sylvia stared at her hands resting on the table in front of her.

  It was an interesting response. “Because you couldn’t? Or because you wouldn’t?”

  Sylvia kept her focus on her hands.

  “Tell me about Erby Weegan.”

  “Erby?” Sylvia’s head swiveled quickly toward Delia. Her grimace of confusion appeared genuine. “Why is everyone suddenly so interested in him? Two police officers just left. They asked me about him also.”

  “You went to school with him.”

  “So? I went to school with a lot of people.”

  “You were closer to Erby than most,” Delia guessed.

  Sylvia shook her head slowly. “No.”

  “He wasn’t interested in you?”

  Sylvia’s confusion cleared. “Hardly.”

  The whistling of the kettle caused Delia to turn. After fixing the tea, she carried the cup over to Sylvia. “What do you remember of Erby?”

  Sylvia gave a half shrug. “He had a crush on my friend. I passed notes for them sometimes.”

  Perhaps that was what Mena saw all those years ago.

  Sylvia wrapped her hands around the cup as though seeking the warmth. “The police officer kept saying that Erby killed Marcus because he was jealous but that just doesn’t make any sense. Erby had no reason to be jealous.”

  “You’re certain Erby wouldn’t kill Marcus in a jealous rage?” Delia pressed as she took a seat next to Sylvia.

  Sylvia shook her head slowly, her interest in discussing Erby gone. “I have no idea what to tell my child.”

  “You can tell the child that Marcus was a very intelligent man,” Delia suggested.

  “It got him killed,” Sylvia whispered.

  “The code got him killed.” Delia watched Sylvia’s hand move to her stomach as though to protect her unborn child. “Sylvia, do you have a copy of the notes?”

  Sylvia’s lips pressed together.

  “Sylvia, this is very important. You must tell me. Your life and the life of your child could be in danger.” She placed her hand on Sylvia’s arm. “The police will not be here to protect you forever. You must know that.”

  “I destroyed them.” Sylvia’s lips trembled. “I’ve been so worried that someone would come after me. I’m certain they believe I have copies.”

  Delia hoped that was the case. Her plan depended upon it.

  Sylvia took in a quick breath. “There is a solicitor.”

  The words scattered her thoughts in a million different directions. “Solicitor?”

  “Marcus. He had a solicitor. Someone to approach people and handle the negotiations.”

  Of course he did. She should have deduced it on her own. “I need a name.”

  Sylvia wet her lips. “Granville. Mr. Oliver Granville. His office is in town.”

  Delia left a short while later. After walking the distance from the cabin to the nearest trolley stop, she waited longer than she expected for the car to reach her. When it did, she noticed it was very nearly full. She wedged herself into a seat with two other women, ignoring their indignant looks. There was an air of enthusiasm among her fellow passengers as the trolley car continued along its way.

  Excited voices interspersed with sudden bursts of laughter could be heard all around her. Delia tugged on the edge of her skirt to free it from its confines between the woman sitting next to her. Her eyes scanned the many posters inside. Though she saw all of the familiar messages supporting the war, there were new ones as well.

  Rather than a reminder about silence being golden, a new message implored readers to be patriotic and avoid sneezing, coughing, or spitting in public places. The sound of a muffled cough behind her caused a noise of disapproval from the woman beside her.

  Delia was happy to step down from the car when she reached the stop nearest the solicitor’s office. The number of people walking along the sidewalks and in the street was far greater than any she had seen before. It took her a moment to remember the parade had probably just ended. No wonder the town was bustling with activity. It appeared that nearly everyone in Glennon had turned out for the Liberty Loan parade in a show of patriotism.

  She mentally crossed her fingers when she reached the office of Oliver Granville that he might be in. She breathed a sigh of relief when the doorknob turned in her hand. Though the small outer office was empty, she saw a man sitting at his desk in the office beyond. Without hesitation, she crossed over to his open door.

  “Mr. Granville?” Delia introduced herself as she took a seat in front of his desk.

  He looked very much like a solicitor. He had the distinguished gray at his temples. He removed a gold pair of pince-nez glasses from the bridge of his nose as he offered a polite, but reserved, smile of greeting.

  “May I help you?”

  “I am certain that you are aware of Marcus Sidehill’s death.” Delia watched a look of wariness enter his eyes. “If the police have not yet spoken with you, I am certain they will soon.”

  Oliver kept his eyes fixed on hers as he nodded once. “I shall be happy to speak with them.”

  “I understand that Marcus Sidehill procured your services to act on his behalf in negotiations,” she said. “Specifically, negotiations regarding the sale of a secret code to the highest bidder.”

  His
chin came up as a cold look entered his face. “I cannot confirm such allegations.”

  His response gave her pause. “You will admit that Marcus hired you for the negotiations.”

  “Marcus Sidehill was my client,” he agreed cautiously.

  She wondered at his response. “Mr. Granville, my former employer was Admiral Hobart Jennings.” She saw the recognition in his eyes. “It is at his behest that I visit you now. Although he has also dispatched two representatives on behalf of the government officially, it is imperative that the reason for Marcus Sidehill’s death be ascertained with utmost haste.”

  “Admiral Jennings, eh?” He was studying her with more interest now. “It is rumored that the president relies on his intelligence gathering.”

  “I was his amanuensis,” she said with a pointed glance around his office. There were filing cabinets everywhere. She knew they were filled with sensitive documents that were typewritten and filed by the solicitor’s assistant. “As you might understand, I was privy to very sensitive naval intelligence.”

  He hesitated for only a moment. “Marcus had no intentions of selling to the highest bidder.”

  She watched him stand and move over to a filing cabinet. His movements were swift and determined as though defending Marcus’s patriotic wishes held great importance to him. After opening a drawer, he pulled out a file then returned to his desk.

  “I have it in writing. Marcus instructed me to only negotiate with allied governments.” Oliver flipped open the folder and pointed at the bottom of a page. “I have his signature right here to prove it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  She gave up trying to find a seat on a trolley car. Delia turned toward the campus and began the long walk back. All around her, people intent on wringing every bit of enjoyment possible from the excitement of the Liberty Loan parade given in honor of the soldiers were moving about or gathered in groups as they boisterously talked. Every few moments, she had to check her course and find a way around another cluster of them.

  She ignored the sound of the motor car horn at first. It took several more blasts of noise to rise above that of the people around her. At first, Delia assumed the motor car keeping pace with her as she slowly made her way along the sidewalk was part of the parade. It took her several moments to realize that the woman trying to gain her attention was Wesley Glennon’s sister, Virginia Gray.

  Virginia motioned toward the passenger seat of her motor car. Delia didn’t hesitate. She quickly moved into the street and climbed in.

  “Thank you so much.” Delia adjusted her hat.

  “When Wesley told me that you went into town, I thought perhaps you might be in need of a ride back.” Virginia put the motor car into motion.

  Delia’s hands froze in the air above her head. “You came into town just to give me a ride?”

  Virginia spared a quick glance at Delia. “I just heard that you have been working to preserve the good name of Glennon Normal School. I thought it was the least I could do.”

  “I should have expected all of the excitement, I guess.” Delia rested her hands in her lap. Watching the happy residents of Glennon from inside the relative safety of the motor car seemed like a luxury in comparison to walking among them.

  “Were you able to learn much?” Virginia asked as she slowly navigated her way along the street.

  The sidewalks were filled. Pedestrians had spilled into the street and taken it over. People were darting around the motor car from every direction.

  Delia wondered exactly how much Virginia Gray knew. “You spoke with the captain?”

  “For a change. I am tired of being kept in the dark about important matters involving my family.” Virginia sounded her horn in an attempt to clear the people in front of them from her path. It didn’t work.

  “I wish I knew my way around a bit better.” Delia twisted in her seat. “Perhaps there is some sort of shortcut to get away from here?”

  “Brilliant!” Virginia abruptly turned into a very narrow alley between two tall buildings.

  Delia grabbed on to anything her hands could find to steady herself as the automobile shot through the alley. She glanced to her side and discovered there were mere inches of space between the side of the motor car and the unyielding brick building. A quick look at the driver’s side told her it was the same story over there. Although it seemed to take hours, she knew it was but a matter of moments before they emerged at the other end. The street they turned onto next was much quieter.

  Delia adjusted her hat again. “That was interesting.”

  “Wasn’t it though?”

  It was the first time Delia could remember hearing genuine humor in the other woman’s voice. “I imagine growing up in Glennon offers all sorts of benefits.”

  “Such as knowing the best shortcuts,” Virginia agreed. After navigating through several more streets, she glanced at Delia. “You are avoiding my question.”

  Delia met Virginia’s gaze for a moment. “No, I am not. I just do not have an answer for you as yet.”

  “Was anyone from the normal school involved in that man’s death?” Virginia asked bluntly.

  Delia thought of the many things she had learned. Then her mind shifted to the plan put into motion for the evening. “Perhaps I will have a better answer for you in the near future.”

  “You give me your word that you will not keep me in the dark?”

  “Yes.” Even as she agreed, she wondered how much of the truth she would share.

  “I will hold you to it,” Virginia said as they reached the front of the campus.

  After thanking her driver, Delia climbed out of the car. She didn’t make it far before she heard her name called. The two men moving quickly to catch up with her were unfamiliar to her, but their manner of dress left her no doubt. She waited for the government agents sent by Admiral Hobart Jennings to reach her.

  “Miss Markham,” one of them said breathlessly.

  “Miss Delia Markham,” the other emphasized. The two men shared a look.

  One turned back at her with a wry smile. “We have already met your cousin.”

  “We made the mistake of assuming you were one and the same,” the other said.

  Delia wondered how well that had worked out for them. “You bothered Hazel in her kitchen while she was working?”

  “It was a mistake we never intend to repeat,” the first said. “I’m Orville Harbison. My partner, Herb Lauder.”

  Delia murmured her greetings. “I was just arriving from a trip in town.”

  “We can walk with you,” Orville suggested.

  As they were near the trolley stop, it was probably one of the busier places on campus. Students were coming and going from all directions. She nodded her agreement.

  “Your cousin explained that you used the trolley,” Herb said.

  “Since we couldn’t find you on campus, we thought we would wait for you there,” Orville added.

  “You are here about the situation with Marcus Sidehill,” Delia prompted as she began walking around Glennon Hall.

  “I must say, your contacts in D.C. are quite impressive.” Herb’s voice sounded envious. “We were sent from the White House.”

  “After a certain admiral made a telephone call,” Orville said.

  “Hobart Jennings is known for the intelligence he provides to the highest levels.” Herb’s voice was lowered to ensure no one around them heard.

  “You used to be his yeoman.” Orville slanted her a sideways look. “We’re sure you know more about that than most.”

  Delia’s smile was polite, but distant. “You were sent here for a reason?”

  Herb looked disappointed but switched to the subject at hand. “Indeed. As you know, our government was contacted about a code that could potentially alter the course of the war if it fell into the wrong hands. We were scheduled to meet with Marcus Sidehill’s representative about a purchase.”

  “When?” She watched them share a look of confusion. “Was it
possible your arrangements to meet triggered the death?”

  “Good point,” Orville acknowledged. “I see what you mean. No, I don’t believe that was the case.”

  “We weren’t yet scheduled to meet,” Herb explained. “But we were very interested in seeing what Marcus had.”

  “You believe it to be as good as the rumors imply?” Delia asked.

  The two men shared a look again before Orville spoke. “You’ve heard of the Navy’s high-powered radio chain?”

  “The one that allows transoceanic wireless communication,” she murmured as her mind raced. “It is of the utmost importance that all messages sent along the chain are secure. Not only for wireless telegraphy with sending telegraph signals by radio, but also the newer method of sending voice with radiotelephony.”

  “The Navy believed the code developed by Marcus Sidehill was the answer.” The disappointment in Herb’s voice was obvious. “Now that code is missing.”

  “And no one knows which country is in possession,” Orville added. They stopped walking. “Admiral Jennings has placed his hope in you.”

  Delia felt a familiar jolt course through her. She missed her spy work for the admiral.

  “We don’t have to tell you how critical this is,” Herb added. “Our higher ups have informed us to stay out of your way.”

  “That means we’ve been called back to Washington.” Orville’s eyes scanned the campus as he spoke. “Pity, that.”

  “Should you require any assistance,” Herb said. “Your contacts there will know how to reach us. We can be back here by the next morning, if necessary.”

  “You do realize it may take quite some time to discover the truth,” Delia warned. “This is a rather complicated situation.”

  “Good luck,” Orville said as they turned to walk away.

  Delia walked slowly toward the rear entrance of Glennon Hall. She reached her classroom just a few minutes before the hour. The class sped by quickly. She carried the papers she would need to grade with her as she left her classroom for the last time that day. After a short period at her apartment grading assignments, she made her way to Hazel’s house.