A Casualty of War: A Bess Crawford Mystery (Bess Crawford Mysteries)

by Charles Todd

  We pulled up in front of the church. Around the village, lamps were being lit in cottage windows as people started their day. And in the east, there was the very smallest hint of a brightening in the sky. Across the green, lamps were being lit in the surgery too. And that worried me, because the surgery looked out toward the church.

  Simon had hardly put on the brake when a shadow detached itself from the deeper shadows of the stair tower and moved toward us.

  Captain Travis said, “I couldn’t sleep,” and got in behind me.

  Simon let in the clutch, turned the motorcar around, and headed for the High. We passed The Pottery and the tea shop, and then reached the bend in the road.

  Sinclair disappeared from our view.

  I passed the sandwiches and the thermos to the Captain, and realized he still had the blanket belonging to The George.

  He thanked me and uncapped the thermos, drinking the hot tea. “There was frost this morning when I first came out. If my great-grandfather hadn’t left England when he did, I would have left myself. This climate and I are not suited.”

  “Would you stay here, if you had the chance?” I asked. “If you had property here or investments?”

  “Very likely not. I’d sell up and go home.”

  Ten minutes later, he was asleep in one corner of the rear seat, and I thought, looking at him, that this must be the first real sleep he’d had for a very long time. His face was slack, his body relaxed, and the jolting over the abysmal roads didn’t disturb him. Like the soldier he was, he’d learned the knack of sleeping when he could, in any conditions, and that was serving him well now.

  We hadn’t solved the question of what to do with Captain Travis, Simon and I. I was hoping that he might stay asleep and give us a chance to talk. But he woke several times, on edge, asking, “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I answered the first time. “We’ve got to work that out.”

  And the second time, Simon asked, “Where would you go?”

  “I’ve no idea. I don’t have the sort of friends here where I could drop in and expect to stay for a time.”

  As the dawn broke, and finally the first brightness reached the motorcar, I looked back.

  The Captain hadn’t shaved for days, his hair unkempt, his uniform rumpled. He looked like an ex-soldier searching for work, and his face was haggard as well. I said to Simon, “We need a place where he can shave while we find some new clothes for him. But how are we going to manage that?”

  “Leave it to me.”

  And so I did.

  As we came into Cambridge, Simon pointed to a small hotel on the edge of town. It had seen better days, but it appeared to be respectable still. I watched as a young couple came out the door, smiling, holding hands. He was in uniform, a Sergeant in a Yorkshire regiment. She was wearing a jaunty hat, a sprig of violets on the lapel of her coat. They were silk, but quite pretty.

  “Newlyweds,” I said, watching them as they laughed and stayed close to each other as they walked up the street.

  “Now let’s find a place where I can purchase what we need.”

  A little farther along there was a shop, and Simon pulled in front of it. Twenty minutes later, he came back with a sack. In the next street was a men’s shop with what appeared to be secondhand clothing in the window.

  Simon was gone longer this time, and he returned with a small valise.

  We drove back to the hotel we had seen earlier, and Simon went inside while the Captain and I waited a third time.

  When Simon returned to the motorcar, he gave me a slight nod.

  “I have rooms,” he said as he came to my door. “One for you and the other for the two of us. Your mother wouldn’t approve, but the rooms are clean and the clientele is respectable enough. I don’t think there will be any trouble.” He turned to the Captain. “You, sir, are my commanding officer, and you got quite drunk when you learned your wife had left you. We found you, and I’ve brought you and your sister here to make you presentable enough to return to your regiment. We’re on our way to Kent, where you’re posted.”

  Captain Travis started to speak, then thought better of it. “I expect it will throw anyone looking for me off the scent,” he said in resignation and prepared to open the rear door.

  Simon opened my door. “Leave the cases, I’ll bring them in.”

  We went in to Reception, the woman behind the desk staring at the Captain, an expression of pity on her face. I smiled at her and followed Simon up the stairs.

  My room was clean, papered in a floral pattern with chintz slips on the only chair and matching curtains at the window. It looked out at the side of the building across a narrow alley. Simon and the Captain were in the room next to mine. Simon brought up my kit and said, “I don’t expect to stay more than a night. It would look—suspicious—if we left before that. Do you have everything you need?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. What did you buy?”

  “A razor, a shirt—no one will notice under his tunic that it isn’t military issue. And a cane. If he can manage a credible limp, it will help. An officer recovering from a leg wound and accompanied by a nurse won’t remind anyone of the troubled man who walked away from a Wiltshire clinic. Other clinics might have been notified, in the event he was brought into one. Thank God he kept his own uniform. He ought to have a fresh one, Bess, but I’ll ask them in the kitchen if they can do something about his. The problem is, what will we do with him once he’s presentable? He can’t go back to Barbados without his papers. And he can’t hide forever.”

  “I know,” I said with a sigh. “At least they won’t shoot him for leaving the clinic without permission. But his own regiment might consider him a deserter, if he’s not accounted for. And soon.”

  “Let’s see how he looks when we’ve cleaned him up. I’ve sent for hot water for shaving, and he can have a bath as well. I bought scissors to trim his hair. I’ll polish his shoes. They’ve seen rough weather and a good deal of walking, but I’ll do my best.”

  “I didn’t intend to put this on you, Simon,” I said contritely. “If any trouble comes of this, you can blame me.”

  “Hardly,” he said with a smile. “But the Colonel Sahib might need to come to our rescue before this is over.”

  “God forbid,” I said, with a pretend grimace.

  We had hoped to go down to dinner as soon as the dining room opened, before it became crowded.

  Simon came to collect me at six, and I was thunderstruck when I saw the Captain in the passage.

  He was still haggard, and far too thin, but he looked like the officer I remembered seeing in the canteen at the base hospital—it seemed like years ago. His uniform, sponged and pressed in the kitchen, didn’t fit quite as it once had, but he carried himself well, a clean-shaven English officer who bore no resemblance to the wretched figure in the churchyard of St. Mary’s, or the desperate man on the cot in the clinic. Simon had even helped him trim his hair. He would pass inspection, I thought, if the search for him widened. Still, there was a more noticeable resemblance now to the photograph I’d seen of James Travis. If someone looked hard enough.

  We had very little to say to one another as we ate our dinner. The things we wanted to say we dared not, for fear that someone might overhear. But there was a tiny parlor to one side of Reception, and we took our tea there afterward. No one else had come in, and we could speak freely, though we kept our voices low.

  Captain Travis was worried about his future, and I could see that we might well have to turn to the Colonel Sahib to get us out of this predicament.

  “I can’t go back to the clinic,” he said, staring into the heart of the fire that was struggling to take the evening chill from the room. “I won’t. I can’t face it again.”

  “But until you are properly discharged from there, you can’t return to your regiment,” Simon pointed out. “Nor can you leave the country without proper papers.”

  “There’s my cousin—James’s mother. Would she
speak up for me? That might carry some weight. Or her doctor might declare me fit again.”

  I knew how these cases worked. I didn’t think the clinic would dismiss Captain Travis quite so easily, not until they were convinced he was “cured” of his strange obsession.

  I said, “They would insist that you return to be evaluated. And that could take time.”

  “Does Mrs. Travis have a solicitor? He might help me.”

  “Or he might turn you in. There’s a problem, Captain, that you aren’t aware of. After his father’s death, James Travis drew up a new will and made you his heir. I don’t think he expected to die so soon after his father, you see, and he must have remembered his meeting with you.”

  He was startled. “This is the first I’ve heard of an inheritance. Are you sure of this? All the more reason, then, that they might help me.”

  “That’s not quite—there are extenuating circumstances, you see. Mrs. Travis wasn’t aware that you and her son had met. And she feels very strongly that the estate ought not to go to your branch of the family, because of the unpleasantness at the time your great-grandfather chose to leave England.”

  With some trepidation I tried to explain what was happening in Suffolk, and he listened intently.

  “And so the first thing she would do, if you arrived on her doorstep, would be to summon the Constable to take you into custody.”

  “But—I’m grateful to James, it was a gesture of respect to trust me to take over the estate and care for his mother. Still, I have property of my own in Barbados, I like it there, and I prefer the climate. What would I do with The Hall?”

  “There’s no one else. At least, that appears to be the case.”

  He got up to pace. I could see that the wound in his back was still bothering him, for he moved stiffly. Sleeping in an awkward position, first in the cold church and then in Simon’s motorcar, hadn’t helped.

  “Look,” he said finally. “I’ll go to Mrs. Travis, tell her I have no interest in the estate, and if she’ll help me escape that clinic, I’ll sign everything over to her.”

  “I don’t know that you can. And what will happen when she dies? Who will she leave the estate to then?”

  “Oh, good Lord. Then I need to speak to her solicitor.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Captain. I don’t think you’ll have much joy there either. I don’t know that you understand just how strong their feelings are. You’ve become—they think the worst of you. And her solicitor seems to be afraid to press her to accept the terms of her son’s will. To be fair, Mr. Ellis isn’t well enough to fight her. Even the local Vicar is afraid to speak up. Have you received any letters from Mr. Ellis, informing you that you’re James’s heir?”

  “I’ve received no correspondence at all.”

  “Oh, dear. He must be afraid of losing her as a client. She’s very influential.”

  “The estate has to be settled sooner or later. One way or another.” He turned to look toward Reception, where we could hear voices, then said, “I came to England to fight for King and Country. I brought letters from my bank in Barbados to a bank in London, to ensure that I had the funds I needed, but I have no other connections here. As soon as I finished my training, we were given a few days’ leave, and then met our train to Folkestone. I know Paris better than I know London. Perhaps the best course open to me is to speak to this man Ellis. At least as the Travis heir, I will have more standing in England than I do now. It might be the only way I can get clear of my own problems. I don’t see any other option. Could you take me back to call on this Ellis? And vouch for me? It might work.”

  Before I could answer him, the door opened, and the couple I’d seen earlier in the day came in, smiling and greeting us as they chose the two chairs in the corner.

  And any answer I might have given Captain Travis would have to wait.

  Chapter 16

  Captain Travis was still very tired, and he went up to bed after our dinner. That gave me an opportunity to speak to Simon privately.

  We walked for some distance along the street outside the hotel, shop windows lighting our way where they were still open and patches of shadow falling across our path where they were not. Ahead of us, a church tower loomed against the night sky. People were making their way home or stopping at the last minute to make purchases for their tea. They paid no attention to a soldier and a Sister in their midst.

  After several minutes, Simon broke the companionable silence between us. “Travis has a point, Bess. He can’t hide forever. But I think he’s looking in the wrong direction, if he expects help in Suffolk. You could ask the Colonel Sahib—or even Melinda Crawford—to straighten out this business with the Army and clinic. I’d afraid you won’t have time to finish what you’ve started. Your leave is up in less than a week.”

  I could imagine Cousin Melinda going to war for Captain Travis. She had a soft spot for those in trouble, and for a moment I considered traveling on to Kent to ask her for help. As for my father, I had no idea where he was—for all I knew he could be in France, involved with the negotiations going on there. Time was our enemy just now, and Captain Travis’s as well. While he was a fugitive, regarded as dangerous, he was still a serving officer. Eventually the Army would find him and might well consider him a deserter.

  “I don’t think he realizes just how passionate Mrs. Travis is about this matter. And then there’s Ellis, and heaven only knows where he stands,” I answered slowly. “Captain Travis could have made this wretched journey from Wiltshire for nothing. I’m still astonished that he did such a thing. It must have taken enormous determination.”

  “He has to face his situation sometime.” Then Simon grinned down at me. “Shall we toss a penny and see whether it’s Melinda or the Colonel Sahib?”

  “Convincing the Captain to trust Melinda might be a problem. He doesn’t know her the way we do. He’s so certain he can reason with Mrs. Travis or Mr. Ellis.”

  We turned and walked back to the hotel. Its tiny pub was busy, but the dining room was nearly empty. We climbed the stairs without speaking.

  As it happened, I was right. Captain Travis was a man accustomed to ruling his own life in the islands and commanding men in battle, and the prospect of letting others fight for him instead of taking charge himself was as foreign to him as it would be to Simon or my father. As I listened to his decision the next morning, I couldn’t help but think that men sometimes preferred to meet trouble head-on, while women looked for an easier way.

  In the end, of course, Simon and I could only agree to try, despite our trepidation.

  “You realize, sir, that if you’re taken up by the Army, it will make it all that much harder to get you clear of the clinic?” Simon asked.

  “Yes, Sergeant-Major, and I know it seems to be the wrong course of action to go to Sinclair before I’m free of it, but if this man Ellis will help, that should go faster. He’s legally bound to abide by the terms of James’s will, and whether he likes me or not, he will have to represent me. I’m not in Wiltshire now, where he can ignore my existence. I’ll be in Suffolk.”

  That settled, after our breakfast we set out for Bury St. Edmunds, where we could find Mr. Ellis.

  But when we got there, late in the afternoon, we discovered that he’d left only an hour earlier for Sinclair and The Hall.

  “Well,” Captain Travis said philosophically, “I expect we’ll have to beard the lioness in her den.”

  “I don’t know that that’s the right strategy,” I told him.

  “Bess, I shall have to face her sooner or later. And it forces Ellis, whatever his personal feelings might be, to choose between us. I’m his client now. He knows I could take my business elsewhere. Will he risk that?”

  Only half-convinced, Simon set out for Sinclair. And when we came up the drive to the house, we saw what must be the solicitor’s motorcar already in front of the door.

  Simon pulled up a little behind the other vehicle, and we got down, walking without spea
king to lift the knocker and wait to be greeted.

  The maid who answered our knock stared at the three of us on the threshold, and then started to close the door in our faces, her own face a picture of shock.

  Simon caught the door before she could swing it more than halfway, and he said gently, “It’s rather important that we speak to Mrs. Travis. We mean her no harm.”

  But she was staring at Captain Travis, and I realized that she must know, just looking at him, who he must be: the man her mistress refused to accept as the new owner of the estate. The resemblance to Lieutenant Travis was slight, but there would have been gossip below stairs about the cousin from Barbados, and Mrs. Travis’s quarrel with us over the heir.

  “I can’t announce you,” she said, finding her voice, looking up at Simon with pleading eyes. “She’ll be that angry, I’ll lose my place.”

  “Then we’ll announce ourselves,” Simon told her, and he set her aside. We followed him into the handsome foyer.

  Captain Travis was staring in his turn, looking around with surprise and some respect. “I hadn’t realized . . .” I heard him say under his breath.

  Hadn’t realized what he was giving up?

  Fine as the house in Barbados must be, with its wide veranda and bright gardens, The Hall was elegant. And his own great-grandfather had walked away from here to make his own way.

  I could hear voices coming from the drawing room. Taking a deep breath, I walked ahead and tapped lightly on the door. When I heard Mrs. Travis impatiently call, “Come!” I swung it open.

  Her shock was ten times stronger than the maid’s.

  Her gaze on Captain Travis’s face, she rose from her chair and stood there, staring at him as if she’d seen a ghost. Tall, fair, blue eyes—he must have reminded her of her son, if only for an instant. And then, collecting herself with an effort, she said, “What is the meaning of this?”

  The thin figure closer to the hearth rose as well, and I recognized Mr. Ellis. He stepped at once toward the bell pull and said, “Let me deal with this, Mrs. Travis.”