‘Not at all, my dear. What it does mean is that I and MI6 insist that you go up to London next Friday to have a word with Masterson and that you agree to go along with them.’
‘And use Karen?’
‘Sit down! Don’t make a spectacle of yourself.’
He indicated the wine. Hilary shook her head. ‘I haven’t touched a drop of that since I lost my heart and virtue to a liar.’
Mademoiselle Adèle Vigneau’s older brother, and so much for the nuns having taught Miss Bowker-Brown what to look for and expect from a Frenchman. ‘My dear, one woman’s already been murdered. Neither Sir John nor myself would wish there to be another.’
‘Brigadier, you know very well Clarington Hall is on its last legs and that it will all go for taxes when my father dies, and that I will not ask him for anything.’
Hence Cornwall. Gordon took out his wallet and spread fifty pounds in fivers on the table. Glancing round at the others, and shoving the big white bills back at him, she said, ‘Don’t you dare treat me like a prostitute!’
‘What a charming thought. Dandridge will be your coordinator. We must try, though, not to ruin your future insofar as the Germans are concerned. This business of Ashby’s is a pain but you will stay here in Kent and we will watch what happens, and you will go up to see Sir John.’
‘I can’t take Karen with me to London, Brigadier, and I can’t leave her here, not with just Dotty and Albert to guard her. I simply couldn’t.’
Although her outrage pleased him, and she finally did accept the money, he still said, ‘My dear, I can and will tell you only what I feel you should be told and that will have to do, though I must ask one further thing.’
Giving her a moment, he got to his feet. ‘Not a word of this meeting to Masterson or to any of them, most especially Bunny Hacker, but also Captain Ashby. It’s to be between ourselves and I must insist. Lionel will be careful, never fear, and you will tell Captain Ashby that there is to be absolutely no help from us. Is that understood?’
‘But … but why?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. Assume it prudent and govern yourself accordingly. There is a sleeper, Hilary, and we must deal with him as I see fit. Perhaps a picnic would be in order. Yes, let’s settle on that. Take the child somewhere close and do so on Monday, but let Lionel know of the location. Test the waters, so to speak.’
Let AST-X Bremen make their move. Sickened by the thought, Hilary reached for her wine and downed it, and only then realized that she had broken her word to herself.
This time the messenger came from Berlin and arrived at about 0500 hours, Sunday, 5 June, Burghardt complaining about the lack of sleep. Christina von Hoffmann’s daughter had been taken to Clarington Hall, an estate in Kent, near Hollingbourne. Hilary Bowker-Brown, the young woman who had brought the girl there, had met a Brigadier Charles Edward Gordon at a golf and country club.
Again the general’s daughter begged him to send Osier to her. The estate is perfect. Quite isolated and within fifteen kilometres of the sea. Werner could easily take her off once Osier and myself have got her. She had followed this Bowker-Brown girl to that country club and had not only watched the two meet but had then, Bridgwater having been too far for her to use, driven to the embassy, and had got them to send this to him.
Reaching for the telephone, he said, ‘Bitte, no matter the hour, put me through to Berlin, to the residence of Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. If the admiral is not there, try the Jagdschloss Thiergarten. It may be that he is out riding.’
It took the admiral the better part of an hour to return the call, and by then Frau Albrecht had prepared a suitable breakfast for himself and the messenger, but Canaris was impatient. ‘Joachim, what is it?’
‘The Ashby problem. Brigadier Charles Edward Gordon.’
And Osier, Agent 07392 … ‘But … but are you sure of this?’
Burghardt told him that he was.
‘Then tell Fräulein von Hoffmann to be exceedingly careful of the brigadier, Joachim. This one is very special.’
At the embassy, Christina put her back to the tiled wall of the shower bath, and holding her hands up to the nozzle, let the warmth of the water hammer her face. Every bone in her ached. After driving to Croydon to catch Lufthansa’s midnight Ju 52,* the embassy had provided a room, but Burghardt’s response hadn’t come in until 8.10 am. London time. She could sleep for days, but by noon on this Sunday, 5 June, she must be back in Kent, by this afternoon at the latest.
It had all been quite dangerous and exciting. Elation had flooded through her on locking Colonel Hacker in that little church after having had the pleasure of terrifying Ruth Pearce with that knife Herr Reiss had given her, but finding the estate and then watching the Bowker-Brown girl meet someone at that country club had been far more than either, more still when she had looked down the list of members and had found Brigadier Charles Edward Gordon’s name and had then been able to send that information to the Kapitän.
Again Burghardt’s response, received by the embassy’s wireless, ran through her mind.
OSIER TO MAKE CONTACT CHELTON HOTEL, MAIDSTONE. USE EXTREME CAUTION, PROTECT SECURITY. DANISH FREIGHTER THORSTEIN STANDING BY IN DOVER. ICELANDIC TRAWLER EINAR HELGASON WILL PUT IN TO SOUTHEND-ON-SEA 7 JUNE, 0500 HOURS LONDON TIME.
Next Tuesday. He had finally realized she needed help. She could, she knew, walk right into Clarington Hall and demand the return of her daughter. No one could stop her, but MI5 would only try to take Karen back before she had got her to either of those two ships or the Dover ferry. Now, however, Osier and herself would soon take care of things and Ash would find out exactly how capable and determined was this ex-wife of his!
‘Please, sir, it’s me, Bill.’
Peachey didn’t look up from the motor he was working on, but asked, ‘How’s the world treating you?’
‘Fine, sir. That is, I jolly well think I shall pass the exams this year if all goes well.’
Spanner in hand, he still didn’t look up, but called out cheerily, ‘And so you shall, Bill. With fortitude, determination and the most amazing machine in the world, the human brain. Top of the lot in maths for you. Granted, as were all of the other masters, I was both gratified and surprised, but that’s the way of it.’
Top of the class in MATHS! In spite of all his troubles, and there were many of those, felt Bill, Peachey was grinning.
‘I’ve always had faith in you, Bill, but take a load off your feet and tell me what’s bugging you.’
‘It’s … it’s not a problem of mine, sir. It’s …’
An uncaring hand was tossed, Peachey gathering him in to sit on the coach house steps where the roses grew and gave good cover. Finding himself an ice-cold bottle of brown ale from a hidden bucket, he took a swig then passed it over with, ‘Just a sip,’ the ale crisp and sweet, the moment to be cherished. Kicking off his shoes and pitching his cap and gown into a heap, he loosened that tie of his and said, ‘Well, what do you make of it all? Men trying to kidnap my daughter and killing poor Daisy like that, then sabotaging my car so as to ground me when I need it most?’
‘Don’t let them kill you, sir,’ said Bill with utter gravity, Peachey looking away.
‘You see,’ said Ashby, ‘it’s like this. My ex-wife came over to tell me we ought really to get back together and that she would willingly stay here, and I thought … Well, I really did, Bill, that she wasn’t telling me the truth, but felt I had to give her a chance to prove herself, but then I discovered that she wasn’t there when I rang up her hotel in London. She’d gone off to God knows where, but I soon found out that she was staying in one of our local inns under an assumed name. News like that kind of cuts a fellow to the quick, now doesn’t it?’
‘There’s the rotor, sir. The sabotage …’
‘Did she pull the wool over my eyes, Bill? Did she make a damned fool out of me?’
‘Sir …’
‘In a moment, Bill. Head’s still in a rumble.’
Ashby ran things past himself again. Christina had left the Rose and Thorn, but had she gone down to Cornwall or had she followed Hilary to Kent? Ruth had been giving him the oddest looks at each chance encounter, but did she know something he desperately needed?
Tony had gone up to London to meet with some of the Board of Governors as a preliminary to the annual meeting on Founders’ Day, but old George Crawley and Roger Banfield weren’t convinced. More than this, they were saying nothing of it, and that just wasn’t like them.
Hilary might now have met with her friends in MI6, for they wouldn’t have delayed, but had they agreed to help? A sleeper … Who could it be? Certainly someone who could keep a close eye on him, but somebody at the school? Try as he did, and knowing them all as he did, he simply couldn’t think it possible.
‘Please, sir, it’s about the rotor that I’ve come.’
‘What did you say, Bill?’ he asked, his glasses winking in the sun.
‘The rotor, sir. Finchie and the rest of the Lower Fifth were having a whip-round for you when Spider Lawson said, “Hadn’t we best hunt for it?” That’s … that’s why I’ve come.’
‘You’ve found it, have you?’
The boys were down behind Wetherby Cottage. A thin column of smoke marked a forbidden fire among the osier beds where the sapling shoots stood tall and close, giving an adequate screen. Crouching in their midst, he picked up the rotor, it already having been cleaned and polished. ‘Pitched lightly, sir,’ said one of them—had it been Mark Abrahams?
‘From the edge of the path behind you, I think, sir,’ said Spider Lawson.
‘Must have been,’ said Thomas Barclay Finch.
‘Easy to find?’ he asked.
‘Why … Yes, sir, I guess it was,’ said Jackie Peterson, disheartened by the easy.
‘Who found it?’
‘I did, sir,’ he said.
‘Jackie, what made you chaps think it would be here?’
Quickly, darkly, they looked at one another.
Trust Peachey to go for the jugular, thought Tanner Biggs. ‘Tics, sir. Headmaster’s been seen coming down here a lot these past few days.’
‘Why him? Headmaster’s my friend.’
They clammed up, leaving betrayal by Tics all too evident. ‘Jackie, I’ve got to know something,’ he said.
‘Yes, sir. I understand, sir. We’ve already discussed it and have taken a vote.’
‘Did you tell your dad I’d be in London?’
‘No, sir. My dad’s been too busy to telephone me. He’s …’
The boy glanced at the others. Tom Finch said, ‘His dad’s a ham in his spare time, sir. Like others round the country, he listens in to German spies!’
‘To their cricket talk,’ said Bill, ‘but like the others, he’s not spying for the Germans, sir. None of them would do a thing like that. It’s only a hobby but they all report everything that they hear coming in from Germany.* They know it’s from there because, if three ham sets at different locations here are used, they can, by each drawing a line to the set, pin down the source within a very small triangle. They then tell …’
‘The Secret Service, sir. MI5,’ said Jackie. ‘When I telephoned him this morning, my dad said there’s been steady traffic coming from our area. Well, as near as sticks to it. Bridgwater, sir, and in the small hours, but he thinks that something must have happened because the last message he heard was short and final, but Bremen’s answer was … Well, a little bit longer.’
‘Will he be down for Founders’ Day?’
‘Yes, sir. I expect so. At least, I … I certainly hope so.’
Swearing them all to secrecy, he said, ‘I may need your help again.’
As he walked away, he didn’t bother about the willows, but let the switches hit him or not. Peachey or Dan … There was now no longer any question of it.
‘In the Great War, he saved Tics’s life,’ said Tanner Biggs.
‘And Peachey knows Tics is bent and trying desperately to hide it from everyone, even that wife of his and especially the Board of Governors,’ said Spider, who did know more about such things, an uncle of his having been reportedly that way.
‘Headmaster’s wife is certainly under a cloud,’ said Bill, shaking his head at such things. ‘Seems to me like she wants to tell Peachey something he needs to know, yet can’t find the courage.’
‘Or the grace,’ said Tanner. ‘Grace is sometimes far too high a price to pay when you’ve been wronged like she has.’
When they returned to the school, they could see that Peachey had just knocked at the door to Headmaster House and that Mrs. Pearce had come to open it, and they wished they could hear what was being said but knew they couldn’t, that it wasn’t for their ears anyway.
‘Ruth, I have to know. The gun’s not in my room where I locked it up after Hacker’s visit.’
Was there panic in his eyes, she wondered, but said, ‘I really wouldn’t know, would I, beyond what that bastard tried to make me do with it.’
‘Yes, I know, and I’m sorry, but Tony might have thought it best to take the gun back and lock it up himself.’
Then why did Anthony wait? she wondered, wanting so much to ask it but saying, ‘He might have done, but why didn’t he simply ask you to return it?’
‘Ruth, please.’
Stepping aside, she held the door open, and when he paused on the threshold to look steadily at her, she wanted so much to say, Do you know how I feel about myself, having been married for years to a man who could never love me as a husband should? But she held her tongue.
‘Is Tony coming back from London tonight?’ he asked.
Was he that desperate to know? she wondered, wanting now to tell him she had met his wife and that the woman had scared her to death, but instead, she somehow found the will to angrily say, ‘How should I know what he does? Perhaps he’s staying over. Telford would be the one to tell you, not me. Perhaps Anthony’s found someone up in London. He’s certainly made enough calls from that study of his.’
‘I’ll just take a look in there, then.’
‘You do that,’ she said, closing the door on the world out there, shutting the two of them in, she wanting to tell him everything about that wife of his, yet wanting to hold it back. ‘Tea?’ she asked. ‘The keys to his desk and things are in that clay pot he brought back from Greece, the one with the paintings of centaurs and warriors, circa 560 BC, but a fake, if you ask me, and at one hell of a cost we could ill afford.’
Hating what he had to do, Ashby knew Tony couldn’t be the sleeper. Even if he did find the gun, it could mean nothing more than that Tony had felt he had every right to take it back, and being too embarrassed and afraid of any further fuss, had decided it best not to say a thing of it, but London … Why had he really gone up to the city? To meet with Christina? Had she telephoned him, he to then ring her back several times? He did know where Karen was now staying, and removing the rotor from the MG would have been child’s play to him.
There were the customary stacks of exercise books and half-set examination papers in folders marked ‘confidential.’ When he opened the centre drawer, the usual sorts of things appeared, but then, too, a photograph of himself, young and in Blues’ uniform.
Slamming the drawer shut, he went through the rest of the desk in a hurry, completely ignoring the list of telephone numbers, thought Ruth, he now pausing to look in anguish through the leaded glass windows at the boys out there playing
cricket. He wouldn’t know that she had met his wife and had told her where their daughter was staying, nor could she even say, Beautiful though she is, that wife of yours is very frightening, Ash. As I retreated from her, I nearly fell down the stairs, she grabbing me by the wrist but holding the point of that knife against my stomach, my saving myself only by blurting, ‘Is one murder not enough? Kill me and you will never get your daughter back.’
‘Tea’s on,’ she said, startling him.
‘How long have you known about that photograph?’ he asked.
His distress at having found it was all too clear. ‘Long enough. It wasn’t always kept in his desk. Until quite recently it was upstairs in his bureau.’
‘And the gun?’
‘It’s not here. I’ve … I’ve already looked.’
He went upstairs anyway and she heard him rooting round futilely. Then he was at the telephone in Anthony’s study, taking chances with it. ‘Hollingbourne,’ she heard him saying. ‘Yes, Operator. Clarington Hall. A Miss Hilary Bowker-Brown. Please hurry. It … it may be urgent.’
For all of five agonizing minutes he waited, Ruth then hearing him say, ‘Hilary, it’s Ashby. Did you manage to speak to those friends of yours?’
To the girl’s answer, whatever that was, he gave no response but warned her that company might be on its way, describing Anthony for her and then that wife of his, but added, ‘I don’t honestly know about either’s intentions, but Christina was staying near here and didn’t bother to tell me.’
When he came back, they had their tea in silence, not in the house, but outside under the magnolias until at last Ash said, ‘Ruth, the friends of the girl who’s looking after my daughter won’t help me, nor am I to go anywhere near her.’
‘And Karen?’
‘Is still finding everything difficult but liking it a little more. To get her out of herself, Hilary said they were going on a picnic. When I told her it was far too dangerous, she replied that she really had to do everything she possibly could to get Karen to believe her a friend.’
The Sleeper Page 16