“Staying with friends,” said Millie, not wanting to explain any further. “Uncle Alex, this may come out of the blue but what do you know about Barbara Conrad? Or her husband?”
“Barbara Conrad?” Millie might have imagined it, but there seemed to be a slight pause before Alex answered.
“Yes, I remember James Haxby saying that she was in Argentina, and as you were there too, I wondered if you’d ever met her husband, or knew anything about him.”
“No … No, I can’t say I have. What is all this about, Millie?”
“She loaned me her manuscript, and I’ve found the facsimile of a blueprint stuck into the pages. It’s for a weapon, Uncle Alex! I think Count Chlomsky’s man, Vasily, was looking for it on Saturday.”
“I see. And you think Barbara Conrad is guilty of passing secrets?”
“I’m not sure. You see, she could have just asked me for it back had she known and wanted him to have it. So I don’t think she could know.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. So you think her husband is behind it?”
“Well he’s a bit mysterious, isn’t he? No one seems to know about him, and she doesn’t talk about him very much.”
“No, that’s true. She doesn’t. Look, why don’t I find out what I can about Mr Conrad and get back to you? Where are you staying?”
“It’s alright,” said Millie. “I’ll come up to you.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Alex. “But don’t come to Fazeby Hall. As you can imagine, my dear girl, Mrs Oakengate is not very happy with you at the moment. I’ll meet you at the little café at the bottom of Masson Hill. Perhaps then you’ll tell me where you’ve been hiding for the past few days.”
Chapter Nine
Millie scribbled a hasty note, thanking Helen Haxby for her hospitality, and then asked to be taken to the station. At the back of her mind was the nagging doubt that she should let Jim know what she had found, but she still felt angry with him for underestimating her. With Uncle Alex’s help, she could solve the mystery of who killed poor Hortense Parker-Trent and her husband, and perhaps find out who was passing secrets to the enemy. It might even lead her to the man or men who had framed her father. That it might also make Jim admire her was irrelevant. Or so she managed to convince herself by the time she was on her way back to Derbyshire.
The trip from Kent to Derbyshire was a long one, involving a couple of changes. As Millie could not afford First Class, she travelled in Second Class. On the last leg of the journey, she found herself sitting opposite a vacuum cleaner salesman, who had the mistaken idea that everyone in the carriage would be fascinated by his wares.
“I’ve got a leaflet,” he said, “if anyone wants one.” According to the leaflets, the vacuum cleaners not only cleaned up dust, but also, apparently improved the class of the average woman. At least judging by the picture of an elegant lady dressed in high fashion, happily vacuuming her staircase.
With little else to do to drown out the salesman, Millie pretended to read Mrs Conrad’s manuscript, hoping that he would get fed up of trying to sell to her and turn his attentions on someone else. It was a futile activity, given that so many of the pages were still stuck together, apart from the small openings Millie had made to release the papers. She idly flipped through the pages, then turned to the back page. It was blank, so hardly worth the effort. Millie was just about to turn back to the beginning and start again when she noticed some indentations upon the paper, as if another sheet had been rested upon it whilst someone wrote a note. She held it up the window, before turning to the salesman.
“Excuse me, I don’t suppose you have a pencil I might borrow for a few minutes?”
The salesman complied, after which Millie excused herself and went to the restroom, not wanting others to see what she was doing. Holding the manuscript up against the wall, she gently rubbed the pencil across the page. Part of the message was missing, but there was enough to tell Millie all she needed to know…
By the time she had reached the café at the bottom of Masson Hill, she had managed to compose herself. She had no idea how the meeting would play out, but she knew that whatever happened, she must not climb Masson Hill.
“Millie, there you are,” said Alex Markham, holding out his hands. The small café was virtually empty, apart from a veiled woman sitting with her back to them. Millie looked at her for a long moment, thinking she might turn around. The woman stared resolutely at the wall in front of her. “What can I get you? Tea? Coffee?”
“Tea would be nice,” said Millie, flashing her most charming smile, and summoning up her mother’s spirit to help her with the part she needed to play. Alex called the waiter and transmitted their order, after which he helped Millie into her seat.
“You gave us all quite a fright, young lady,” said Alex, taking his own seat. “Now, do tell all. Where have you been?”
“I went to London, as you know. Then on to the Haxbys’ Farm in Kent.”
“The Haxbys? They know you’re here, of course.”
“Yes, of course.” Millie only faltered slightly. Helen would most certainly have got her note but Millie had not said where she was going.
“Why did you go there?”
“I was hurt whilst in London. Vasily attacked me.”
“Chlomsky’s valet? Oh yes, you mentioned his name this morning.”
“He tried to abduct me, Uncle Alex.” Millie almost choked on the familiar name. “I think he knew by then that I had the manuscript.”
“Where is it now?”
“Here, in this bag,” said Millie, gesturing to a drawstring bag that she had borrowed from the Haxby’s Cook.
“You’d better give it to me,” said Alex. “I can get it to the right people.”
“The right people or the wrong people, Uncle Alex?” asked Millie.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” said Alex. He looked around him. “That tea seems to be taking an age. Why don’t we go for a walk?”
“Up Masson Hill you mean?”
“Yes, why not. Get some fresh air. You look a bit pale.”
Millie put her hand onto the bag. “How much is this worth to you and your wife, Uncle Alex?”
“My wife? I don’t have a wife, dear girl. Remember, I asked you to marry me?”
“Yes, you did, didn’t you? But it occurs to me that a man who’d send his own friend to the gallows would have no compunction about undertaking a bigamous marriage.”
“That’s a rather harsh accusation, dear girl. Who exactly do you think this wife is?” asked Alex, his normally silky voice having become harder and more dangerous.
“I don’t think. I know. It’s Barbara Conrad. I suppose she uses her maiden name, but just added the Mrs to sound more respectable. So, Uncle Alex, how much is this manuscript worth to you?”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, dear girl.” He leaned towards her, and for the first time in her life, Millie became aware of the menace of the man. Funny, thought Millie, how she had never noticed how lizard-like he appeared until that moment. His eyes were narrow slits, and to compound the image, he licked his lips quickly. “First of all I want to know why you think Barbara Conrad is my wife.”
“There’s an imprint of a note on the back of the manuscript.” Millie removed it from the bag, to show him where she had etched over the imprint. The note read, promise me that as soon as we’ve got the money from Vasily, we will go public about our marriage, Alex. With love, Barbara.
As Millie suspected, Alex snatched the manuscript from her. “You’re a silly girl, Millie. Any fool knows that you don’t show the goods until the deal is made. What were you going to ask for? Money? I’ve already offered you that. Provided you married me.”
“No, a pardon for my father. You can do it without implicating yourself. I know you can.”
Alex snorted. “I may be able to, but I don’t want to. Getting your father framed for my espionage is one of my greatest achievements. All I had to do was have him photographed wit
h the right people, then plant the relevant documents on him. Richard was so damn trusting, he never saw it coming. In fact, I don’t think he ever realised.”
“I wondered why you disappeared for two years,” said Millie, her eyes brimming with tears. “Guilt, I suppose.”
“Good Lord, no. Guilt is an emotion only felt by fools. I was ensuring no one connected me to your father. Out of sight, out of mind, sort of thing. You really have to learn not to be so sentimental, Millie. That’s why you’ve failed today. There’s a part of you that believes good old Uncle Alex will want to do the right thing in the end. Believe me when I say that good old Uncle Alex will do the right thing, but only as it benefits him.” He stood up. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I must get this to my buyers.”
“There’s nothing more I can say to persuade you,” said Millie.
“Nothing.”
“Aren’t you worried I’ll go the police?”
“You’d have to be alive for that, dear girl, and I have men surrounding this café. You’ll never get out. Oh, it’s no good looking for the waiter. He works for me too. The rest of the staff was sent off for the day, due to a gas leak.”
Millie looked to the figure in the corner, but had already guessed who she was. The woman stood up and turned. Her movements were slow, awkward, as though she were in pain. She slowly lifted her veil.
“What?” Alex Markham staggered backwards. Even Millie was surprised. It was not Barbara Conrad as she had thought. The young woman looking at them was Hortense Parker-Trent.
“I heard you,” said Hortense. “I heard you and Mrs Conrad talking about Millie’s father. Then that man – Vasily – pushed me over the cliff.”
“You were dead.”
“Not quite,” said a familiar voice from the kitchen door. It was Haxby, and he held a gun in his hand. “Hortense was badly hurt. We only said she was dead to put her killer off his guard. By the way, your man is out back there, nursing a sore head. He seems particularly keen to help us with our enquiries as does your wife since she heard that you asked Millie here to marry you.”
Alex Markham grabbed Millie around the waist and held a gun to her head. “If you try to interfere, I’ll kill her,” he said to Jim. “Now, get your people out of the way, and let me leave.”
“Let Millie go,” said Jim, pointing his gun at the ground. “And then we’ll talk.”
Alex edged towards the door, dragging Millie with him. “I’m leaving and taking her with me. When they pay me for these documents, I’ll have so much money you’ll never find me.” He opened the door. “Tell them to bring me a car.”
“Take the documents, but leave Millie alone,” said Haxby. “Then we’ll get you the car.” Millie felt Alex Markham shake his head behind her.
“No. You won’t shoot me whilst I’m holding her. Besides. I’ve a fondness for young Millie here.”
“I despise you,” said Millie, her whole body shaking in fear and revulsion. “You killed my father.”
“No, my dear, I didn’t,” said Alex, pressing Millie closer to him. She felt sick at his touch. “The government did that for me.” He pulled her outside, where a car stood ready. Several men, including Simon Brady stood around, but kept their weapons facing down.
Markham opened the door, and tried to push Millie into the car. At that point, she kicked against him and managed to break free. She ran back towards the café, hearing shots ring out and fly over her head, then the sound of the car revving up, and driving away.
“I think I got him,” said Jim, catching Millie in his arms. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I don’t understand, about Hortense. How?””
“Calm down, I’ll explain to you later. But first we have to get after Markham before he takes those documents away.”
“You really think I was that stupid, don’t you?” said Millie, stepping back, angrily. “To hand them over to him after I found out he was involved.”
“No, of course, I don’t think you’re stupid, Millie It was a beginner’s mistake, that’s all. You were incredibly brave, coming here alone to deal with it. We all think so.”
“Please don’t patronise me,” said Millie, glumly. It hurt her to realise that nothing had changed.
“I’m not, darling. All I’m saying is that…”
“Jim,” said Brady, “we don’t have time for all this. We must get that facsimile before it falls into the wrong hands. Come on!”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said Millie, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Markham doesn’t have it.”
“Where is it?” Jim asked.
“At a safe deposit box in the bank. I took it there this morning, before I came to the café.”
“So what does Markham have in the book?”
“Let’s just say that I’m sure foreign governments will be fascinated by the possibilities of a new brand of vacuum cleaner,” said Millie.
Chapter Ten
“It was Jim’s idea,” said Hortense Parker-Trent, when they assembled at Fazeby Hall to share information. She looked different than she had on the first day Millie met her. Devoid of make-up, Hortense’s face looked younger and fresher. There was no doubt she was a very pretty woman, and as the heir to her late husband’s fortune, desirable in more ways than one. There was something else different about her. She had lost the frightened air she wore whilst in her husband’s company.
They all sat around the dining table. Jim Haxby, Simon Brady, Hortense Parker-Trent, Henry and Cynthia Fazeby, Mrs Oakengate, and Millie, who was doing her best to avoid Mrs Oakengate’s furious stares. She knew she would have to face her employer’s anger at some point, but the assembled company’s interest in the revelations was buying her some time.
“When I fell, Jim – Mr Haxby - climbed down, and I told him about the man who pushed me off, though I didn’t know the man’s name. Jim told me to play dead, so I did. I did tell him to let my husband know the truth,” she added hastily. “If only I’d known he was going to be in danger,” said Hortense, lapsing into silence. No one said anything, allowing her the moments to compose herself. “Arthur and I had a complicated relationship, but we loved each other very much. I will miss him dreadfully.”
If Hortense wanted to believe that, then no one in the room would contradict her. It was Millie’s belief that Hortense had a lucky escape from Arthur Parker-Trent, but it was fitting that Hortense did not criticise a dead man.
“Where was I?” said Hortense.
“You were telling us about Jim’s plot,” said Simon Brady, gently. He looked at Hortense with open admiration.
“Yes, as I said, Jim suggested we pretend I was dead, and I think he talked the doctor into saying the same. It seemed a very exciting thing to do,” she said, enthusiastically. “Like in a book. Erm… I don’t know what happened after that.”
“You fainted,” said Jim, picking up the story. “Hortense was unconscious for several days,” he told the others. “Not surprising really, considering her fall. So it was a waiting game, until she came around and was able to remember more about the man who pushed her off. She also remembered that it was Markham and Barbara Conrad she’d heard talking about Millie’s father, Richard Woodridge.”
“Yes,” said Hortense, “I was in the corridor near to Mrs Conrad’s bedroom, before you came to see her, Millie. Sir Alexander was with her. She was saying how it was unfair, because you’re such a nice girl and asking him if there was some way he could undo it. He laughed at her and told her not to be so sentimental.”
“That’s why I was called away from Haxby Farm,” Jim said to Millie. “To get Hortense’s statement. Now we can say what we know about Alexander Markham. Oh, any sign of him yet, Brady?”
Simon took a moment to answer, so obviously enchanted was he by Hortense. “Oh, no, nothing yet. He seems to have disappeared.”
“Alexander Markham was an arch manipulator,” said Jim. “People trusted him, and he always ensured that there were others to
take the blame for him.” Millie swallowed hard. “Including your father,” said Jim, reaching across and covering her hand with his. “In Richard Woodridge’s case, it was done without his knowledge. Barbara Conrad, however, did the things she did for Markham because she was in love with him. She’s in custody now, and it was from her we got most of our information, though I don’t think everything she said can be taken as gospel. She’s obviously trying to save her own neck by putting most of the blame on him. They met in Argentina, where she went to write her first novel. Markham seduced her then married her. We have reason to believe that the marriage is not legal. In fact there may be several Markham brides dotted around the globe.” Millie blushed and thanked God she had the sense to say no to Markham. “The blueprint was one that came through Markham’s office.”
“He saw the potential immediately,” Jim continued. “He had no intentions of holding the facsimile himself, so he talked Barbara into hiding it in one of her novels. She was to be the one who did the trade off with Vasily. Now, either because she wanted to hold Markham to ransom, or get more money for both of them out of Vasily, she gave the novel to Millie. She refuses to elaborate on that point. But whatever happened, if the facsimile was found, all suspicion would fall upon Barbara Conrad, and Markham would have no part in it whatsoever. We believe that had Barbara Conrad not found out that Markham proposed to Millie, she would have happily taken the blame for him.” Jim’s eyes darkened slightly.
“But what about Chlomsky?” asked Millie. “What was his part in all this?”
“Chlomsky was, and is, entirely innocent,” said Jim. “Markham just used him as another scapegoat by planting Vasily as his valet. Believe me when I say that Markham was a man who knew how to cover his tracks. If he couldn’t have framed Barbara Conrad, he’d have framed Chlomsky. No one in Britain trusts a foreigner. Particularly if you place him alongside a pillar of the community such as Markham. As it is, Chlomsky is a good man, and has been helping us piece together the facts about Vasily. Vasily was an intermediary for a foreign government intent on getting their hands on the weapon.”
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