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

were still evacuated. In fact, half the school buildings had been taken over by the army, the blokes from the Royal Engineers who sorted out unexploded bombs. One of them had told him that the Germans were deliberately dropping some bombs that didn’t detonate straightaway, because they knew it made everyone terrified. People would see the bomb sticking out of the ground or down in a big hole, its sharp fins a sign of the threat lying in wait for someone to make just one false move. And then they were frightened to even breathe while soldiers moved along the cordoned-off street, one careful step at a time, to reach the bomb, climbing down into the hole to take out the detonator—sometimes it was so tricky the bomb went off, and those lads never came out again. Blood on the streets wasn’t such a strange thing to see anymore.

As terrified as Freddie had been half an hour ago, he felt a bit braver now, and couldn’t resist retracing his steps, justfor a quick look. He legged it along the streets until he reached the spot where he’d seen the struggle between two men. Butwhere was the other one? Where was the dead body? Crump-crump-crump. Bombs were falling across London, but Freddie could not hear them. He looked around, then knelt down, squinting as the skieslit up above him. Where the blimmin’ heck was the body? As he stared at the ground, hoping that an incendiary might drop justclose enough for him to see a bit better, but not so close that he was hurt, it was clear to Freddie that there was nothingthere. No blood, no nothing. He felt sick again, and he knew that if he didn’t start running right this second, he might haveanother accident and then his trousers would really stink. That, and he wanted to go home, to see his mum and give her theextra half-crown before the old man walked in the door, drunk as a lord.

And as he ran, his legs pumping like pistons in the bowels of a ship, Freddie Hackett knew that he had to tell someone about what he’d seen, because he was sure it wasn’t his imagination. He couldn’t keep this to himself. He had to do the right thing, like his old grandad used to tell him before he was killed. The trouble was, he wondered who he could tell, because as far as he could see, there wasn’t anything to prove the two men had even been there. He’d have to think of someone. Someone who could do something about it. Someone who would believe him.

Chapter 1

“When will you be back, Mummy?” The little girl’s brown eyes were wide as she stood at the playground gates.

“On Wednesday, darling. You’ll have just two sleeps, two nights of sweet dreams, and I’ll be home.” Maisie Dobbs knelt downand put her arms around her daughter. “And Grandad will be getting Lady ready for the show on Saturday, so you’ve got a lotto do. Your first gymkhana! Grandad will be ready to take you out to practice when you get home.”

The child grinned, revealing a gap between her two front teeth. “Do you think we’ll win a rosette?”

“I think you might. But remember, it’s your first show, so just going along is winning, in my book.”

“Will Uncle Mark come to watch?”

“Yes, he said he’ll come for a Friday to Sunday, so he’ll be right there with us cheering you on, Anna.”

“I hope he doesn’t cheer too loud. He cheers loud. He cheered loud when we went to see Tarquin playing cricket.”

“Well, Anna, Uncle Mark just gets very enthusiastic about games—”

The sound of aircraft approaching interrupted Maisie. Looking up, Anna put her hands over her ears as a trio of Hurricanesflew overhead.

“I hope that doesn’t happen on Saturday, Mummy—it might scare Lady.”

“Oh, I think Lady is well used to that sound by now, don’t you? Nothing much unsettles that little pony.” Maisie smiled again as a teacher came out of the school and began ringing the morning bell. “Now then, off you go. You’ve a cheese sandwich for lunch and a nice russet apple. And you might find another surprise in there from Uncle Mark.”

“Chocolate!”

“Wait and see, my darling. Grandad will be collecting you after school—and remember, two sleeps and I’ll be home.”

The girl gave her mother one final kiss and ran into the playground, turning once to wave before calling out to a friend.

 

As Maisie walked the mile home from the school to the Dower House at Chelstone Manor, her thoughts drifted to Maurice Blanche,the man who had been her mentor since girlhood. She had once been his assistant and was trained by him in the art of criminalinvestigation. In his day, Blanche was a renowned forensic scientist, yet he was also an esteemed psychologist and philosopher,and therefore much of his teaching was not simply the nuts and bolts of his work but the importance of seeing the whole personin the perpetrator of a crime as well as the victim. She thought of the many lessons learned in Maurice’s company, and howshe might imbue this child she loved so much with the very best of her mentor’s wisdom. She sometimes wondered if her fatherand stepmother were doing a much better job, simply by being steady fixtures in Anna’s life and enveloping her with a joyouslove laced with discipline and a down-to-earth foundation—the very foundation that had anchored Maisie when she was a child,long before she ever crossed paths with Maurice Blanche.

“Oh, it’s all such a rolling of the dice, the bringing up of children,” her friend Priscilla had counseled. “And let me tell you, as the mother of three boys, I know what rolling the dice is all about!”

Yes, Priscilla knew all about that gamble, with one son in the RAF, and another having lost an arm as he brought home strandedsoldiers from Dunkirk.

As soon as Maisie entered the kitchen, looking up at the clock as she