The Consequences of Fear by Jacqueline Winspear (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📗

war because they needed more men in uniform—but you’d have found it hard to come across a nastier piece of work than ArthurHackett, and we’ve seen some in this business. He’d been sent down for robbery with intent to kill, plus he even attackeda copper when apprehended for another job. Had a little gang, but seems even they didn’t like him. I’m still chasing downsome contacts. I might have some more tomorrow, but there’s a lot of information missing. Apparently the army records officewas bombed a few weeks ago, and they’re saying that loads of files are gone forever, some are now incomplete and they’re luckyto have collected as many pages as they did before taking them all to new premises. I tell you, it’s a right mess.”

Maisie was thoughtful. “How on earth did that sort of man meet a nice woman like Freddie’s mum?”

“Young girl meets war hero. He probably spun a tale and that scar told a story, though I bet it was the wrong one. He might have got that on a job and not over there in France. She falls for him—and we know a lot of these wide boys have the gift of the gab. And then there’s the other thing to consider—there weren’t a lot of blokes around of the marrying age, so when he asks, she says yes. I’ve got to confirm this, but apparently she comes from a better sort of family—not wealthy, or anything like that, but good, solid working people. He rubbed them up the wrong way soon after the wedding and now they can’t abide him, plus her mum and dad were killed in an air raid. Her brothers would like to see more of her, but Hackett apparently doesn’t let her see her own family. And look at the place they live in. I mean, me and Doreen didn’t have much when we were in the East End, but my family were never in a grotty old back double. Anyway, I managed to talk to her older brother, who said that she’s welcome back into the fold any time, but she’s loyal to her husband.”

“It’s not an unusual story, Billy—as we know only too well. When men cut off a family, it means trouble.” Maisie began tothread the telephone cord through her fingers.

“You still there, miss?”

“Sorry, Billy—I was just thinking.” She shook her hand so the cord dropped away. “Look, I’m going to be back at the officeon Monday morning. I have a feeling I’ll be provided with some information shortly that will help us with Freddie’s murdercase.”

“Find out something, did you?”

“It’s what I might be on the verge of finding out that could add to our evidence, such as it is.”

“Blimey, miss, that sounds important.”

“I hope so, Billy. I hope so.”

 

As Maisie was helping Brenda prepare a late lunch, the telephone began to ring.

“That’ll be for you, Maisie.”

“And I bet I know who it is!”

Brenda tut-tutted and shook her head. “That telephone hardly rings when you’re not here. Just like it was with Dr. Blanche. When he was away in London, it was quiet unless it was him to let me know when he’d be back. But as soon as he was home, off it went, nonstop, all hours of the day and sometimes the night. No peace for you people.”

Maisie laughed as she walked away toward the library.

“Hello Robbie,” said Maisie as she picked up the receiver and put it to her ear.

“You just took the wind out of my sails. How did you know . . . oh never mind. There’s been a development.”

“What sort of development?” asked Maisie, taking care to keep her voice even.

“One of our recruits suffered a fatal fall during the first of the outdoor exercises, not long after your departure.”

“A fatal fall? And why is that any of my business, Robbie?”

“You know very well why it’s your business, Maisie. Come on, it’s time to put our little row behind us.”

Maisie allowed a few seconds of silence to pass before speaking. “Who is the dead man?”

“One of the French bods. A bit older than the others, so probably that was something to do with it. And before you ask, MajorChaput was in the library. We’ve witnesses to his presence.”

“Who were the witnesses?”

There was another silence on the line, this time from MacFarlane.

“Robbie, it’s not like you to go quiet on me. Who were the witnesses?”

“The Algerian and a French Canadian.”

Maisie nodded, as if MacFarlane had been in the room with her. “Do you want me to say the obvious, or will you spell it outfor me?”

“He’s in the clear, Maisie.”

“I don’t doubt he is. But who is he really? And what about the little coterie around him—his witnesses, the Algerian and French Canadian? They’re not with us, but they’re sharing our training and they’re out there with our recruits.”

“The French are our allies, Maisie, and they’re in a rough spot. We’re not an occupied country with the bloody Nazis marchingdown our streets, though god knows it could happen any day—so we’ve got to help them any way we can. We’re putting our peopleinto their country to help lead their resistance, so it stands to reason they want their own agents going in too. We do thebest we can to get the job done in collaboration. It’s a fair arrangement all round.”

“It wasn’t a fair arrangement for the dead French agent, was it?”

MacFarlane’s sigh was audible. “We’re back to work on Monday, Maisie. I may have dismissed you on grounds that you have aconflict of interest between your work for one of your so-called customers and your country, but don’t forget I still havea piece of paper attesting to the fact that you are under my orders.”

“So you reminded me in Scotland. All right, Monday morning it is, Robbie. I’ll be there at eleven and no sooner. I’m comingup from Chelstone, on the train.”

“Go straight to the mortuary in Victoria.”

The line was disconnected. Maisie replaced the receiver and sat for a moment, thinking, before leaving