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

diplomatic straitjacket.” He cleared his throat, and came to hisfeet. “By the way, you might like to know that both those young ladies you’re particularly interested in are now in France.So far, so good. Miss Jones sent over her first radio communication this morning. We’ll be giving them orders via a messagetucked inside a BBC broadcast tonight.”

Maisie stood up, making sure her voice was low. “And Miss Evernden?”

“She’s where she should be. We’ve no reason for any concern about her.”

“I appreciate your letting me know, Robbie.”

“You’re off the hook in the meantime, Maisie. No more recruits to analyze. I’ll be in touch though.”

“Of course.”

“By the way,” said MacFarlane, opening the door for her, then joining her on the pavement outside. “You want to watch thatJamieson. I think he’s sweet on you.”

Maisie pinned her hat. “Robbie—for goodness’ sake, you think everyone’s sweet on me.”

“Just observing. I’ll be off now. Be careful, Maisie—just be careful. You’re on your own time for a few days, but you’re stillon my watch.”

 

Maisie took Billy into her confidence, inasmuch as she could, discussing with him a certain element of synchronicity thathad occurred during a recent meeting. She was not specific about the details, that the meeting in question took place in amanor house in Scotland where recruits for a secret intelligence section were being put through their paces.

“So what you’re saying, miss, is that you think you know who killed the bloke in the street, the murder young Freddie witnessed.” Seated at the long table in Maisie’s office, Billy leaned forward, his notebook open.

“I—I believe so. But here’s the thing—assuming the body retrieved from the Thames is that of the man Freddie saw murdered,both the pathologist and I believe that at least one of the two men—either the man with the knife or his victim—was a professionalkiller, and I wouldn’t rule out the second either. The pathologist agrees that the victim might have been an assassin, basedupon wounds to his body—they were consistent with someone who has been in serious scrapes.” Maisie went on to recap the postmortemfindings on the man who rose to the surface of the river at the same time as the Spitfire. “I know that at first blush itsounds like a wild suggestion based upon supposition, yet in my experience speculative comments from experienced pathologistsreflect what may at first seem like a guess, but they’re really an intuitive response rooted in their depth of knowledge.”

“And what do you think of this French major, the one you met at a party?”

“I’m not sure. He’s not one for talking—though his command of English is excellent. He is an observer, though.”

“What do you mean? An observer?”

“He keeps his eye on everyone around him, all the time. Now, to be fair, that’s his job—it’s the mainstay of anyone workingin his position,” said Maisie, aware that she could only share so much information with Billy. She was sure he had more thana passing clue about the real nature of her work, though. “But his level of awareness seemed rather intense. He seemed asif he was always expecting the devil to walk in, or to appear among the company.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of something himself—fear could be his devil, couldn’t it? Do you want me to see what I can get on him?”

“I think you’ll have trouble there, Billy. We’ve a diplomatic angle to consider, and I don’t want MacFarlane around here shoutinghis head off.” She pointed to Billy’s notebook. “Now then, any more on Freddie Hackett?”

“Sporting a nice blue-and-purple bruise across his left cheek, apparently sustained when he fell while running an errand.He might have got a bloody nose in the same so-called fall.”

“Oh dear Lord.” Maisie rubbed a hand across her forehead, before consulting her watch. She stood up. “Right, I’m going overto the school—I should be just in time for the children to be leaving.”

“You would stand more of a chance of catching Freddie by going straight along to the Albert Embankment—when I talked to himon the blower, he told me there’s a big office along there where he’ll usually go first, then the porter tells him where torun to next, perhaps Baker Street or that fancy hotel. He’ll be setting off as soon as that school bell goes, so he can pickup his first job. He’ll probably be running from there to Baker Street again. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t sneakout of his classroom to get there on time.”

“Billy, would you come with me? You’re the father of boys, and he trusts you.”

Billy nodded. “I’m glad you asked, miss. I like the boy and want to do right by him. For a start, I know about a certain noseI’d like to rearrange, if I lay eyes on the owner’s dial.”

 

“Freddie Hackett?” repeated the porter at Freddie’s regular first stop. “Hasn’t turned up yet—the little bugger is late and I’ve got something to go out in a hurry. Mind you, it’s the first time. He’s usually here bang on four. He pops home after school to see his sister, if he can, then he comes straight here, and I don’t think he was told yesterday that he’d be starting off somewhere else today. I usually send him to the caff down the street for a bacon sandwich as soon as he gets here—we’ve got a kitty here to make sure the messengers get something inside them, what with all that running. Poor little Fred—probably the only decent food he gets in a day.”

Even before the porter had finished speaking, Maisie and Billy had begun to move toward the door, with Billy calling back,“S’all right, mate—don’t worry, we’ll catch up with him, wherever he is.”

Chapter 9

Billy gave the taxicab driver directions to follow the most likely route that Freddie would have taken from school, to home,to the Albert Embankment, just in case they saw him running along the pavement. Their first stop was the school, which wasquiet, as all the children had gone home, though an army lorry was