by Leo McNeir
“We’d love to come.” Marnie reached for the desk diary. “Where will it be held?”
“Er, we were wondering …”
Anne turned to Marnie.
“D’you think I’m about to move up from tea-girl to hostess-with-the-mostest?”
“You want to have the party here, Rob?” Marnie asked.
“If it’s not too much –”
“Party?” Danny was descending the wall-ladder in pyjamas.
“She picks up key words by radar,” Marnie explained. “What do you need from us, Rob?”
“Just the use of the HQ barn for putting out refreshments and somewhere to plug in the music machine.”
“No problem. Glasses?”
“No. We’ve got all that organised from the wine shop, better that way.”
“Will the Timeline people be vacating the site as well?”
“Yes, and they’ll be at the party too. You’ll finally be free of us all.”
*
Ralph walked the short distance from Thyrsis to Sally Ann and knocked on the stern door.
“Can we talk, Donovan?”
“Come in.”
Ralph passed through the sleeping cabin, where Donovan’s bedding lay neatly folded on the duvet, into the galley-saloon. On Sally Ann all was rich colours, the red, blue and cream of the Liberty print curtains, the varnished pine tongue-and-groove cladding, the deep blue carpet tiles, the Oriental rug on the saloon floor.
“Not like your colour scheme, I understand. Anne said your boat was like a submarine inside.”
“You mean a U-boat,” Donovan corrected him.
They sat at the table in safari chairs. There was a faint, inviting smell of coffee in the air. Donovan offered to make a fresh pot and Ralph accepted. When they were settled, Donovan pushed the cream jug and sugar bowl across the table.
“So what can I do for you, Ralph?”
“I want to talk over your ideas about the remains in Sarah’s grave.”
“I’m not sure I –”
“Yes, I understand that. But suppose I give you my interpretation of what I think you’re thinking, If you see what I mean?”
Donovan picked up his spoon and began stirring.
“That would be helpful.”
Ralph outlined the points he had made to Marnie the night before. Donovan listened in silence, his face expressionless. When Ralph reached the end of his exposition, Donovan nodded.
“Yes. That’s roughly how I see it.”
“There’s just one thing I couldn’t make out,” Ralph said. “You mentioned a Totenkopf. What did you mean by that?”
“I once saw a photograph in a magazine of a Death’s Head tattoo on the arm of a dead SS soldier on the Russian front.”
“Presumably he was in the SS Division named Totenkopf?”
“Possibly. They normally just had their blood group tattooed, but this could have been a personal thing added later.”
“And you think this man in Sarah’s grave might have been such a soldier?”
“Not really. It’s just an association of ideas. As I said, we don’t have enough evidence to go on.”
“I agree with you on that, Donovan. But you think the man was possibly a Nazi?”
“I don’t believe he’d been in a concentration camp, so I can’t think what else it might be, if it’s relevant at all.”
*
“Hallo, Marnie? It’s Celia.”
Marnie cursed her bad luck in taking the call. Anne was out of the office.
“Morning, Celia.” Bright and breezy. “All well?”
“I wanted to apologise for Hugh disturbing you yesterday. He shouldn’t have gone to see you and make you worry about me.”
Marnie gritted her teeth. “I was sure you’d be fine.”
“Yes. I went shopping in the West End.”
“Are you still finding the smell of –”
“Oh no. It’s not so bad now. With our bedroom completed and the drawing room finished, I’m not so distressed by the contractors any more.”
“Great. They seem to be doing a good job. Anne gave me a report this morning.”
“Anne? You mean she was here, today?”
“Yes. She went up first thing to check that all was well.”
“How sweet of you, Marnie, to send her to find out about me. You really shouldn’t be anxious on my behalf, you know.”
“I, er, well, I don’t know what to –”
“Now I’ve embarrassed you. I’m so sorry. Anyway, I’m pleased with the results so far. I won’t give my final verdict until all the work is done, of course.”
“Of course.” More gritting of teeth.
“Tell me, Marnie, when will you be wanting your next pay?”
Marnie imagined herself hovering deferentially outside the tradesmen’s entrance.
“On a short contract of this sort there are no phased payments, Celia. I’ll let you have a final account when everything is finished to your complete satisfaction.”
Celia giggled. “Oh, I know it will be. I’ve already been telling my friends.”
“That you’re pleased with the work?”
“More than that, Marnie. I’ve been putting the word around that I’m having a Marnie Walker makeover. You’ll definitely be the latest fashion.” She laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were begging me to become your marketing manager as soon as our contract’s completed.”
“An intriguing prospect, Celia.”
Marnie omitted to add, over my dead body.
*
Donovan was checking the oil level in the Beetle when he became aware that someone was standing behind him. He looked round slowly. Dick Blackwood stepped nearer.
“Hi. Did your friend catch up with you in the end?”
“Which one?”
“He didn’t give his name. Sorry, didn’t think to ask. Thing is … well, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I know we were introduced, but I didn’t quite catch your name.”
“What’s that got to do with my friend?”
“He turned up again yesterday, at the end of the dig, just as we were packing up.” Dick looked thoughtful. “That was odd.”
“My so-called friend didn’t mention my name?”
“That’s right. He just described you, black clothes, blonde hair, asked if you were on the site.”
“What did he look like?”
“Taller than you or me, thin rangy sort of bloke, very short hair, check shirt, jeans. D’you know who it was?”
“Had you seen him before?”
“I think so, when Timeline first came.” Dick looked thoughtful again. “That’s right! He thought you were with Timeline. I’m sure he did.”
“What did you tell him?”
Dick shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you.”
“Is he back here today?”
“Not so far.”
Donovan closed the engine cover, took out his keys and opened the driver’s door.
“Do something for me?”
“Sure.”
“Tell Anne I had to go.”
He got in the car, started the engine and reversed out. Dick watched as the Beetle rounded the corner of the garage barn and headed up the field track. As the black shape disappeared from view, he realised that he still didn’t know the driver’s name.
Chapter 40
Fleischer
From the moment Marnie walked through the spinney to the office barn after breakfast on Friday, she knew it was going to be one of those days. The Timeline helicopter was doing circuits over the village, and the camera tower-crane had taken up station dominating the field. It was barely eight o’clock.
She walked round to the HQ barn, where several vehicles in the company’s dark green and yellow livery were already lined up, including the producer’s Range Rover. Beyond, at the bottom of the field track, the black OB truck was in position, its satellite dish mounted on the roof. Once the university archaeologists arrived, the invasion would be co
mplete. Marnie was grateful they had just two more days of shooting.
As she headed past the garage barn, she met Ralph hurrying to his car. She envied him his day of meetings in Oxford in the tranquillity of All Saints’ College. Although he was now a ‘visiting professor’, the college authorities had allowed him to keep his rooms overlooking Old Quad. No disruptive elements would penetrate the calm of those ancient buildings. Bliss, Marnie thought. They kissed and she waved him off.
Anne had the office up and running, as usual, and was filing papers when Marnie entered. The printer was rolling. In the background a steady hissing told her that Danny was in the shower; an early start by her standards. Marnie wondered if it had anything to do with the knowledge that Timeline would be in action that day.
Anne said, “I’m running off this month’s invoice for Willards, Marnie, plus the one for the office development in Towcester. What are we doing about the Knightly Court job?”
“I told Celia we’d not send an invoice until everything was finished … to her complete satisfaction.”
“Oh well, that’ll be Doomsday.”
“Don’t worry, she’ll be delighted.”
Anne put down her filing papers and quickly crossed the office. The hissing from the shower stopped. Standing close to Marnie, Anne spoke hurriedly in a whisper.
“I’m worried about Donovan.”
“Did he phone last night?”
“I phoned him. Look, I know we say he’s paranoid, Marnie, but he really is convinced someone is after him. He blames that TV shot of him on the national news, thinks someone recognised him from last year.”
“He is very distinctive.”
“So you think he’s right.”
“I think he’s no fool. Does he have any plans?”
“He says all he can do is lie low.” Anne’s expression clouded over.
Marnie took her arm. “What is it?”
“He said they’d never give up until they’d caught him. He won’t be coming back, Marnie, not ever. He said goodbye. It was for my own good not to see him again, too dangerous for all of us here.”
“Hi!” Danny emerged from the shower room, wrapped in a dressing gown, towelling her hair.
Marnie and Anne turned to face her, their expressions cheerful, determined to look relaxed and carefree. Danny frowned.
“What’s the matter?”
Marnie smiled. “Nothing.”
“You seem all tensed up.”
“Just a normal working day at Walker and Co.” Marnie hoped she sounded convincing. “What are your plans, Danny?”
“Oh, you know, just be around. I was wondering what I should wear today.”
Marnie and Anne answered in unison.
“Not the bikini.”
*
Marnie’s worries about disruption proved to be unfounded. She made uninterrupted progress during the first half of the morning. Anne reported that the Timeline camera crew was conducting interviews, followed around by a small crowd of onlookers. She had been unusually quiet all morning.
She put the kettle on and wandered over to stand by Marnie’s desk. Her manner brought a lump to Marnie’s throat. Anne seemed as forlorn and vulnerable as a lost child. Marnie stood up and hugged her friend.
“I’m so sorry about Donovan, Anne.”
“Yeah.”
“Perhaps, some time in the future –”
“He was definite, Marnie. You know what he’s like.”
“A strong character.”
“Yes. He says we’ve got to be on our guard.”
They walked together to the kitchen area where Anne began preparing coffee.
“It’s hard to be on our guard, Anne, when we don’t know who we’re guarding against.”
“He told me last night that Dick said someone was asking about him. A tall thin man, with short hair. He said he was rangy, wearing a check shirt and jeans.”
“That could be almost any of the male students out there.”
“I know. Donovan said we must be careful not to let anyone know his name.”
“Have you mentioned this to Danny?”
Anne looked startled. “No.”
“Go and fetch her. Tell her coffee’s ready. Make sure she knows the situation.”
The phone began to ring.
“You go, Anne. I’ll deal with things here.”
*
Anne found Danny almost at once, standing on the edge of the group of onlookers a short distance behind the camera crew. She took her by the arm and led her off towards the HQ barn.
“Danny, have you spoken to anybody?”
“Like who?”
“Any of the visitors?”
“Said hallo to a few. One boy asked me if I’d been here before.”
“What did he look like?”
Danny shrugged. “Dunno. He was about twelve. I asked him why he wasn’t in school and –”
“Anyone else? Any men?”
“Men? What is this, Anne, the third degree?”
“Just tell me.”
A pause. “Dick. I’ve spoken to Dick. He said he almost didn’t recognise me with clothes on. You know what he’s like.”
“Anyone else?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Okay. Go to the office barn for coffee. Tell Marnie I’ll be back in a minute.”
With that, Anne sped off to the HQ barn where she found Dick Blackwood examining a tray of stones. He looked up.
“Dick, I need to ask you about visitors. There are quite a few out there. Donovan said a man had been asking after him.”
“Donovan,” Dick repeated. “Of course. That’s right, yesterday.”
“Have you seen that man today?”
“No. I’ve been stuck in here most of the time.”
“Will you come and look now and tell me if he’s on the site?”
Dick got up and followed Anne out. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he scanned the slope. Eventually he pointed to the far side.
“That might be him, green T-shirt, faded jeans.”
Anne screwed up her face and stared into the distance.
“By Rebecca’s trench?”
“That’s the one.”
“How certain are you?”
Without a word, Dick turned and jogged back to the barn, reappearing a moment later with a pair of lightweight binoculars. He adjusted focus.
“That’s him. Have a look.”
Anne studied the man for several seconds.
“D’you know him?” Dick asked.
“No.”
“Just a friend of Donovan’s?”
“I don’t think so.” She lowered the binoculars, deep in thought. “When’s break time?”
“About ten minutes.”
“Great.” She thrust the binoculars at Dick and sped away. “I’ll be back.”
Anne nearly ran into Danny in the doorway of the office barn as she emerged backwards carrying a tray of mugs for the builders. She rushed in and scaled the wall-ladder while Marnie looked on. After a minute of scurrying about in the attic, Anne slithered down the ladder.
“Marnie, can I borrow the Polaroid?”
“Help yourself.” Marnie observed that Anne had changed into the old jeans and sweatshirt she used for working on the boat. “What are you up to?”
“Tell you later.” Anne grabbed the camera and bolted. “In a hurry.”
Her curiosity piqued, Marnie went to the door and was surprised to see Anne run round the side of the farmhouse into the untamed garden. Anne placed the camera on the paving slabs and knelt down on bare soil. She shuffled forwards on her knees, got up, dusted herself off and dashed back, clutching the camera. Without a glance in Marnie’s direction, Anne ran up the field track and disappeared from view.
“What was that about?” Danny was walking back across the courtyard with the empty tray. “I was just giving Bob his tea when I looked round and saw Anne doing a Toulouse-Lautrec impression in the shrubbery. Weird or what?”
Danny shook her head. “She looks as dirty as the students on the dig.”
Marnie nodded. “That must be it.”
Up in the field, Anne went quickly to the farthest side and took a photograph in one of the trenches. The students looked up, recognised her, smiled and got back to their scraping. A young man in a green T-shirt was standing beside the next trench watching the students at work. Anne raised the camera and snapped again. While the Polaroid photo slid out from the base, she walked round to the other side of the hole.
“I’ll get a shot from this angle, better with the light behind me. Rebecca, can you just move over a bit.”
“Sure. There’s not much to see, Anne, just a few stones.”
“It’s just for the records.” Anne raised the camera and they all heard it click. “Bother!” she exclaimed. “I touched the button too soon. I’ll do it again.”
She peeled the photo out and held it in her fingertips while she took more care with the next one. Tucking the first two photos in her jeans pocket, she showed the students what she had taken. As they looked on, a cry went up from the bottom of the field.
Rebecca screwed up her face. “What did he say?”
Anne said, “Sounded to me like, spruce up your goose! Dick’s getting demob happy.”
They all laughed. Anne turned and set off quickly while the students tidied the trench and their tools.
When Anne reached the HQ barn she thrust a photo at Dick Blackwood.
“Pin this on the board.”
Dick looked doubtful. “It looks like a load of –”
“Dick, please, just do it. If anyone asks who I am, say I’m one of the team.”
He grinned at her. “You sure look scruffy enough. What have you been doing?”
“Tell you later. I’ll fetch the water.”
She jogged off round the garage barn while the students gathered for their break.
*
Danny climbed down the wall-ladder, placing each foot with caution on the rungs to avoid the risk of treading on the beach towel slung over her shoulder. She was wearing her bikini.
“I know what you’re going to say, Marnie, but I’ve had all I can take of looking at stones in trenches, even if the place is being filmed.”