Smoke and Mirrors: The next instalment of the riveting Marnie Walker series

by Leo McNeir

  They sat in the saloon in the monochrome interior, facing each other in the dining unit. The shades of grey, black and white were relieved only by the colours of book spines on the shelves, many of them German. The boat was roughly the same size as Sally Ann and Thyrsis, but there the similarity ended. This craft had an altogether different atmosphere. It felt like being in a submarine, a purposeful travelling machine unlike any other boat Anne had ever known.

  “What brings you back?”

  “You’ve no need to ask that.”

  “But why now? It’s been almost a year.” There was no hint of reproach in Anne’s tone.

  “It was safer that way for you and Marnie and the others, for everyone who’d been in contact with me.”

  “And for you, too?”

  “For me, too.”

  “So you think by now the police will have stopped looking for the person who …?”

  Donovan shook his head. “A murder investigation never ends, not until the police have found the perpetrator. The case is never closed.”

  “You think they suspect you?”

  “I think …” Donovan looked towards the window as if wondering whether the boat might be stormed at any minute. “I think they’re looking for someone like me, but someone in a far right organisation.”

  “You mean someone who dresses like a blackshirt and who might live in a U-boat?” Anne glanced over at the shelves by the window. They contained three pre-war Leica cameras, and on the wall beside them were photos of silver German racing cars from the Hitler time, one of them bearing a swastika symbol. “Smart move, coming back.”

  “According to the press, the police are acting on the assumption that Brandon’s death was the result of an internal power struggle, one faction trying to gain supremacy over the others.”

  “What about your racing car photos? Wouldn’t that swastika be seen as incriminating?”

  Donovan shrugged. “They were taken by a great-uncle I never knew, who was disappeared by the Nazis.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “I had to see you again, Anne.” Donovan spoke simply. “The boat was the best way to get here.”

  “So you were going to contact me?”

  “Yes. Once I knew I could do that without causing you problems. I’ve been reading the papers, monitoring local radio, keeping an eye on you.”

  “Really?”

  He counted on his fingers. “You’ve been up to look at the grave by the church wall. There’s been a girl staying with you. Marnie took her for a run in her old sports car. You’ve installed archaeologists in one of the barns.”

  “You have been spying on us.”

  “Keeping watch.”

  “In preparation for a visit?”

  “That was the plan.”

  “But not now?”

  “I’ve got family coming over from Germany. I need to get back to London. It’s all a bit sudden.”

  “When were you planning to leave?”

  “Tonight.”

  “On the evening tide?”

  He returned her smile. “Something like that. I’ve been resting so that I could travel through the night.”

  “And now I’ve disturbed you.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Anne looked thoughtful. “Do you have to do that?”

  “How else would I get back?”

  “There could be another way.”

  *

  “So he’s changed his plans?” Marnie took another slice of bread from the toaster for Anne.

  “Yeah. I was surprised he agreed when I suggested an alternative.”

  “When will it happen?” Marnie put the toast on Anne’s plate and lowered her head to whisper in her ear. “Under cover of darkness?”

  Anne pulled a face at her. “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously, Marnie.”

  “I don’t mean to mock, but I’m sure the police aren’t searching for Donovan in connection with Brandon’s murder, or anything else.”

  “Donovan says you can never drop your guard. You must always be vigilant.”

  Marnie flopped into her chair. “Don’t you think this is all a bit exaggerated?”

  “You think Donovan likes being a man of mystery, that he’s a fantasist?”

  “I’m not being unkind, but perhaps … just a little.”

  Anne nibbled the toast. “Mm …”

  “So tell me about your alternative plan.”

  “He comes here. I drive him to the station. He gets the train to London and goes home by tube.”

  “Brilliant, Anne!” Marnie rocked with laughter. “No-one but a genius of deception would’ve thought of anything so dastardly cunning.”

  Anne’s expression remained deadly serious. “You sink zat vill fool ze enemy, comrade?”

  *

  Ralph returned mid-afternoon as Marnie and Anne were leaving the office. On the way through the spinney Anne told him about her meeting with Donovan and explained the plan for getting him back to London. They stood on the bank between Sally Ann and Thyrsis.

  “Where will he leave his boat?” Ralph asked.

  Anne pointed. “Over there, I suppose, opposite Thyrsis, same as before.”

  “Really?”

  “What’s the matter?” Marnie wondered if Ralph had spotted a flaw in the scheme.

  “He’s no fool, you know. If he thinks there’s some sort of risk in being noticed, he may well be right.”

  “By the police?”

  “Who knows? By anyone.”

  “You go along with all this, Ralph?”

  “I’m not sure I’m going along with anything. I don’t normally accept conspiracy theory, but I remember how on-the-ball Donovan was in that business with the far right last year.”

  Anne looked worried. “You don’t think it’s a good idea bringing his boat here?”

  “It’s rather conspicuous. You described it as looking like a U-boat.”

  Marnie walked over to Sally Ann. “What if we put X O 2 here, in the docking area?”

  “For how long?” Ralph said.

  “Until Donovan can get back up here to move it. Just a short while.”

  Anne was still frowning. “But if it’s going to be at risk here, what difference will it make moving it into Sally’s dock? It would be just as conspicuous.”

  Ralph nodded. Marnie pulled out her mobile and began pressing buttons.

  “I think I’ve got his mobile number entered in here.”

  “Whose?”

  “Here it is … Cardew.”

  *

  Marnie was beginning to think there was a conspiracy to thwart her every goal in life. All her efforts to get on with work were frustrated by other events. Celia Devere seemed to impose on her whenever she felt like it. The call to Rob Cardew had produced nothing. He didn’t have a tent large enough to cover a 45-foot narrowboat. That good idea had bitten the dust.

  She and Anne had returned to the office to try to get on with some work before the next interruption. They expected Donovan very soon, in fact he should have covered the short distance a while ago. Anne put the kettle on to make tea.

  “I think your idea about covering Exodos with a tent was a good one, Marnie.”

  “So did I. The trouble is, Rob didn’t have any spares. Also he pointed out that his tents wouldn’t reach that far. We’d need one big enough for a jamboree! Never mind, we’ll just have to –”

  “Jamboree!” Anne shouted, her face filled with animation. “What about him, you know, that scout man?”

  The previous summer the scouts had been their allies in the struggle against the far right. The local scout leader had been a stalwart of the resistance. Marnie searched her memory for his name.

  “Roberts. Greg Roberts.”

  She grabbed her filofax and flipped it open at the address section. Reaching for the phone, she stopped suddenly.

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s a bit hypocritical of me to complain about interruptions to my wor
k and then phone Greg at his office.”

  “He can only tell you to get knotted, Marnie.”

  “I suppose so. Quite appropriate for a scout leader.”

  Marnie picked up the phone. A secretary put her through. After clarifying who she was, Marnie came straight to her request. Could he lend her a large tent, big enough to cover a 45-foot boat?

  “Tricky one, Marnie. This time of year all our tents are either in use already or about to be used. A busy time for the movement.”

  “I should’ve thought of that. Sorry to bother you at work, Greg.”

  “No problem. In fact, hang on a sec.” The phone went dead. Seconds later he came back on the line. “Forty-five feet, you said? I think I can help you. Where do you need it?”

  “Here, at home, Glebe Farm. That’s in Knightly St John.”

  “I know it. And when do you want it?”

  “Well …”

  “I thought so. Leave it with me. I’ll ring you back.”

  Marnie looked up to tell Anne the good news and found they had a visitor in the office. At first, she didn’t recognise him. The young man was wearing a sunshine yellow T-shirt, light khaki chinos, white trainers and a pale blue baseball cap in support of Manchester City football club. He was carrying a blue denim duffle bag.

  “Blimey! Donovan, is that you?”

  *

  They drank tea together. It was like old times. The previous summer, they had doubted Donovan’s allegiance until he had proved beyond doubt that he was on their side. Now, he was the one in need of help. Marnie outlined how they were aiming to conceal Exodos until he could come back to fetch it. He liked the plan.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a call from Greg Roberts. One of his firm’s vans would be at Glebe Farm by the end of the afternoon. As Marnie was speaking, Donovan thought of a drawback.

  “If this is a tent, how will we be able to put it up? Surely the boat will be in the way of the poles.”

  Marnie relayed that thought to Greg. His reply surprised her.

  “It’s not a tent, Marnie. It’s a tarpaulin, the kind fitted on lorry trailers. We have a spare one from a trailer that was wrecked in an accident. It’s the only thing I could think of that would be long enough. You’ll have to drape it over the boat like a car cover. I’m sending a box of tent pegs. That’ll do the trick.”

  *

  As Anne drove Donovan to the station, the duffle bag lay on the back seat of the Mini. Anne glanced over her shoulder at it.

  “You haven’t got a Luger or anything like that in there, have you?”

  Donovan laughed. “No! I don’t routinely go around armed to the teeth, you know.”

  “I did wonder. When d’you think you’ll be back?”

  “That depends on how long my duties as host keep me at home.”

  “You said you had family coming from Germany?”

  “Yes, probably for about a week. I’ll ring you.”

  “The new gear suits you, makes a change from black or grey.”

  “I paid a quick visit to my tailor.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Got a taxi into town, went to a supermarket, got a taxi back.”

  “A supermarket?”

  “Everyone’s anonymous in a supermarket, Anne. Choose the most bored-looking checkout operator, pay cash and get out. It’s as if you’d never been there.”

  “You take all this concealment thing really seriously, don’t you?”

  Donovan reached up and put a hand over the rear-view mirror. “How long has the big black Mercedes been following us?”

  Anne was deadpan. “That’s amazing. It must be magic. Last time I looked – a few seconds ago – it was a little blue Nissan Micra.”

  Chapter 11

  Tattoo

  On Thursday morning nine o’clock came and went with no call from Celia. Marnie and Anne worked through with only a few business calls until mid-morning when Angela phoned.

  “Have I caught you at a good time?”

  “Sure. Anne’s just made coffee. D’you want to join us?”

  “Love to, but I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes. Look, Marnie, there’s something I want to tell you. I found out by accident – sort of – and I don’t want to break any confidence, but, could I see you a bit later on?”

  “I’m here all day.”

  “I’m not sure when I’ll be back exactly. Then Randall might be coming over some time this afternoon.”

  They juggled diaries for a while before agreeing to meet for a drink at six.

  *

  Ralph returned from his latest meeting in Oxford in time to help prepare for Glebe Farm’s social event of the evening. While Anne mixed a jug of Pimm’s in the galley on Sally Ann, he put up the parasol over the table on the bank. It was a mild, still evening, punctuated by the occasional bleating of sheep from far-off.

  Angela had sounded edgy on the phone that morning, and Marnie suspected that she and Randall would not be bearing good news. It was time to lighten everyone up. Marnie had asked Anne to prepare a rose-bowl of blooms cut from the bushes growing semi-wild in the farmhouse garden. Around this she set out long-drink glasses and matt black Japanese side dishes. Into these Anne tipped macadamia nuts, pretzels and olives stuffed with anchovies and pimento. The Pimm’s, in a Dartington glass jug, took pride of place. Anne added a festive touch of her own, leaving the tiny blue borage flowers with the leaves nestling among the sliced fruit and cubes of ice.

  But it was not the table that immediately caught Angela and Randall’s attention when they came through the spinney.

  “What’s happened to Sally Ann?” Angela asked. A huge tarpaulin covered the boat in the dock from end to end. “Is there a problem?”

  “That isn’t Sally,” Marnie said. “She’s over there, alongside Thyrsis.”

  “But why?”

  “We’re looking after Donovan’s boat for a few days. He doesn’t want it known that he’s here.”

  “Oh?”

  “He has his reasons. Come on, let’s have something to drink. I’m gasping.”

  When they were settled round the table they drank to a successful dig and waited for Angela to reveal her news. Marnie gave her an opening.

  “Any joy with the Archdeacon?”

  It was Randall who responded. “Huh! That old fossil!”

  Marnie grinned. “Is this Christian charity in action?”

  “He wouldn’t know Christian charity if it bit him on the bum.”

  This official pronouncement from the Rural Dean of Brackley provoked laughter round the table.

  Even Randall smiled at the thought. “Well, he’s such an old stick-in-the-mud. He seems to be against everything that’s new. He opposes women in the priesthood, though he knows it’s not acceptable to say so these days. He opposes gays in the priesthood, though he’s what the newspapers used to call a confirmed bachelor.”

  “Confirmed as a nine-bob note?” Ralph suggested, grinning.

  This official pronouncement from the visiting professor of economics at Oxford University and Fellow of All Saints’ College brought out more laughter.

  “Got it in one, Ralph.”

  “But that isn’t what’s bugging you, is it?” Marnie steered the conversation back to Angela.

  “Well it does bug me, of course it does,” Angela sounded weary. “But we’re used to his attitudes on most things. No, it’s the Sarah question that’s getting us down. He’s trying to manipulate the body-in-the-grave situation to prevent us from moving Sarah. If he has his way, she’ll be stuck outside the church wall forever.”

  Marnie failed to see where this was leading. “But surely you’ve known this all along. He opposed it from the start and only gave in when he was over-ridden by the bishop. Isn’t that how it was?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So what’s new that you wanted to talk about?”

  Angela glanced quickly at Randall. “I sort of overheard something, a conversation.”

  “
Yes?”

  Randall stepped in. “It was something confidential.”

  Marnie got the point. “And you don’t think Angela should be talking about the affairs of the church with outsiders like us.”

  “It wasn’t about the church, not directly. It was police business.”

  “The body-in-the-grave police business?”

  “Yes.”

  Angela suddenly reddened and began speaking in a rush. “Randall, I know what you said on the way down, but this concerns all of us one way or another. It’s going to come out anyway, and it’s not as if what happened has anything to do with us, not remotely.”

  Ralph raised a hand. “Look, you don’t have to tell us anything if it makes you uncomfortable, Angela. We’re just enjoying a drink together on a summer’s evening. If whatever it is is going to come out sooner or later, then that’s fine. Unless it’s a threat to us – in which case it would be nice to be forewarned – we can wait until the time comes.”

  Angela sipped her Pimm’s. When she spoke again her voice was calm. “Cathy Lamb came to see me yesterday, just after she’d talked to you, Marnie. She wanted to go over the points in my statement as well, such as it was. While she was at the vicarage, Rob Cardew called in to tell me how things were going with the dig preparations. I’d more or less finished with Cathy and I offered him tea. When I came back from the kitchen he was telling Cathy about the analysis done in the laboratory on the remains in the grave.”

  “By his wife?” Marnie said.

  “Yes. He said you’d somehow guessed she was involved. He thought that was very clever of you, Marnie. He told Cathy that the report on the findings had been sent to the police. The body was confirmed as being in the ground for over fifty years. It was a male, young to middle-aged, too badly decomposed to indicate how he’d died.”