A Time of Secrets (35 page)

I flushed, looked down. My right hand was rubbing my left arm, up and down, in a jerky movement that somehow gave me comfort. I stopped and rested both my hands in my lap. ‘It was a couple of weeks ago. I told him that I knew about him hitting Violet. So he hit me.’ I touched my cheek. ‘There. I had a black eye.’

‘Did you report him?’ Sinclair was leaning forward, as if examining my cheek.

‘No. He lied about it to Captain Deacon, said I’d fallen. I went along with him.’ I realised I was rubbing my arm again and I gripped my hands together tightly. I looked him in the eye. ‘I told Lieutenant Ross what really happened. And another AWAS girl.’

‘You lied to Deacon, though. And it sounds like you provoked Cole.’ Sinclair shook his head. ‘Not much I can do about it now. Do you want me to try?’

‘I – No.’

‘You lied to a senior officer?’ McGurk was also leaning forward, watching me. He shrugged. ‘Silly girl. I’ll check out this Lieutenant Cole’s alibi. He sounds like a nasty piece of work.’

‘Actually,’ I said, ‘you’ll probably think he’s utterly charming.’

McGurk took a slow puff at his pipe, tilted his head back and blew some more smoke. His head came down slowly and we looked at each other.

‘Unlikely,’ he said.

Thirty-one

‘I
t must be the axe attacker,’ said Mary. ‘How horrible. It could have been you, Stella. Or Dolly. How’s your neighbour doing?’

‘Still on the critical list.’

We were sitting in the kitchen at Goodwood, lingering over our lunch the next day. I reflected that Eric would have made short work of any axe attacker who’d come into my flat, but I couldn’t tell Mary that. I bit into my sandwich.

‘What’s the matter?’ Mary was watching me anxiously.

‘Ugh. Fish paste. Army sandwiches really are vile.’

She smiled, shrugged and took a bite of her own sandwich, brought from home.

‘Mum made me mock chicken today,’ she said. ‘Yum. Did you know? Dolly’s having conniptions in the ladies’ room. Says she’s never going back to your flat.’

I knew that. Dolly had had conniptions in my office, in Captain Gabriel’s office and in front of Ross in the hallway. The upshot was that she was moving out of Avoca until Violet’s attacker had been found. I’d told her that I’d stay on in the flat. I doubted that the axe attacker would come back, and I wanted to be there for Mrs Campbell. Dolly had been pleased to hear that I was staying on, but had given me strict orders to keep out of her bedroom.

Ross put his head around the door. ‘Sergeant, could I see you?’

I put down the rest of my sandwich without any regret and followed him up the stairs to his office. Behind his desk, Degas’ dancer spun in the air, washed with light, still observed from the wings by the sinister man in black.

‘Sit down,’ said Ross. ‘Have you heard?’

‘About what?’

‘About the Indigo Alpha men.’

My stomach lurched. ‘Bad news?’

He took his time lighting a cigarette. ‘We lost all of them yesterday.’

‘What? Were they ambushed? Molloy will have to accept –’

‘Their aircraft crashed on its way to the drop site.’

‘Oh, no. All dead? And the air crew?’ Tears flooded my eyes, hot and stinging.

He nodded, drawing deeply on his cigarette. ‘Stella, we’re due to send the Indigo Baker party up there late next week and I’m getting a really bad feeling about this whole mission.’

Indigo Baker was the second of the four groups that made up the Indigo mission. I stared at him. ‘Next week? Indigo Baker isn’t due to leave until September.’

He stubbed out the cigarette viciously. ‘They’ve brought it forward because of the Indigo Alpha disaster.’ He looked up, held my gaze. ‘Eric’s going up there with Indigo Charlie. That’s secret. He leaves here in six weeks.’

Indigo Charlie was the third of the Indigo missions. The men had been due to be inserted by parachute drop in October. Obviously that had been brought forward, too. The final group to be inserted would be Indigo Dog, led by Captain Reg Allott, who was in overall command of Indigo Light.

‘Eric’s just come back from a mission.’ It was a high, shocked whine of dismay. ‘They can’t send him up again so soon.’

‘He’s in the party. There’s nothing you can do about it.’

I whispered, ‘Then we’ve only got six weeks to find a traitor or a fool.’

‘Didn’t you hear me? It’s not just Eric we have to worry about. The Indigo Baker party will be flying out Tuesday week. We’ve got thirteen days.’

I nodded. ‘Thirteen days.’

‘I can’t lose any more men, Stella.’

I looked up at him. He was sitting back in his chair, watching me. The fierceness was gone from his face and now he just looked tired.

‘What’s happening about Violet?’ I asked. ‘Is there any progress in the investigation?’

He scowled at the desk. ‘Violet was badly beaten and subjected to savage axe blows to the head. The police gave Cole a hard time, because of what you told them, but he’s got an alibi. He was with Sam de Groot all night. They were working on some project together.’

‘Here at Goodwood?’

‘Cole’s lodgings. His batman found them poring over maps when he arrived in the morning. Not that I ever thought it was Cole. Didn’t fit. Why would he use an axe?’

‘So they think it’s the axe attacker? The one who’s attacked the other three girls?’

‘It’s the most likely explanation.’

‘Where did he get the axe from?’

‘A neighbour’s woodpile.’ He fidgeted with a pencil on his desk. ‘Are you intending to sleep at Avoca tonight? Dolly’s not going back there.’

‘I’m sleeping at Avoca,’ I said.

‘Nowhere else to go?’

‘I could ask for army lodgings, but I want to go home, back to Avoca.’

‘I don’t like the idea of you being there alone.’

‘Mrs Campbell’s there.’

His laugh was derisive. ‘Not much use in a scrap, Mrs Campbell.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, I see. You won’t be alone.’

I stared at the floor. Eric and I had plans to meet up tonight, but what they’d lead to, I had no idea.

‘That’s nothing to do with you.’

‘You constantly surprise me, Sergeant. You’re tougher than you first seem. And not such a good girl, after all.’

‘I hope I’m tough,’ I said. ‘Are
you
all right?’

He pulled his eyebrows together. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Well, because . . . I mean, you and Violet were . . .’

‘I told you before. We weren’t serious. And last week she dropped me to go back to Cole. I’m not weeping for the girl.’

‘Still . . .’

The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. ‘Stop trying to find the finer emotions in me. I don’t have them. I like
you
, Stella, but most women are just . . .’

‘A bit of fun?’ I glared at him. ‘Love them and leave them?’ I couldn’t think of any more clichés, so I shut up.

He seemed amused. ‘Look at you, full of righteous indignation for the poor little flowers I crush under my heel.’ He pulled out his cigarettes, shook the packet and extracted one. ‘I don’t seduce innocents. The women I sleep with know exactly what they’re getting.’ He lit the cigarette and looked at me through a stream of white smoke. ‘And they like what they get.’

I flushed, which annoyed me, and so my voice was sharper than usual. ‘Quite. Well then, let’s get back to work, sir. We’ve only thirteen days before the Indigo Baker party is due to leave.’

I was at the door when Ross said, ‘I really don’t like the idea of you being alone in the flat, Stella.’ I turned to see him grimace slightly. ‘If Eric isn’t staying over . . . Look, if you are at all worried – any time – please call me. I’m on Windsor 5953. My lodgings are close by and I can be there in a few minutes.’

I was touched at his concern, and a little surprised. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine, but thank you.’

He nodded and I left the room.

Thirty-two

T
he first thing I noticed when I walked out of Goodwood that evening was that the sky had cleared. Instead of the usual dreary dampness, a bitter frost had developed and the grass by the footpath sparkled white under a full moon. I’d worked late to try to find any evidence we could take to Molloy, but had discovered nothing. I wasn’t the last to leave. A light showed under Ross’s door, I nodded to Captain Deacon on the stairs, and I could hear Mary and Faye in the drawing room. I shouted out a goodbye to them.

The brownout had ended and streetlights were back on, but for some reason they weren’t working in the block leading to Park Road, so I used my torch to light the footpath in front of me. Although I could appreciate the beauty of the evening, the cold air caught in my throat, and despite pulling my greatcoat closer around me, I felt chilled to the bone. I longed for a poached egg, a cup of tea and a quiet night by the wireless. It had been a long day.

I’d telephoned Eric from work and cancelled our evening out, saying, truthfully, that I was simply too tired. He’d protested a little, saying that I shouldn’t be alone in the flat. I’d held firm and we’d agreed to go to dinner and dancing the following night. I was happier about this when I realised that there was a slight wheeze in my breathing. Going to a smoky dance hall would not have been a good idea. Nor would energetic exercise with Eric in bed, although he’d hinted that he’d turn up at the flat anyway some time that evening.

I walked, head down, watching the cracks in the footpath as they were illuminated by my torch, and smiled a little, remembering the night before. But it wasn’t long before memories of finding Violet intruded, and I shivered. I pulled my scarf up to cover my mouth and nose, to warm the air before it reached my lungs.

Footsteps were loud behind me and I moved closer to the side of the footpath to allow whomever it was to pass me more easily. It was clearly a man’s tread. Some sixth sense warned me, and I tensed, just before he came up close behind me and slid his hand under my elbow in an odd gesture, as if I was an elderly aunt he was escorting home.

For a second I thought it might be Eric – but only for a second. I tried to shake him off, but he had my arm in a tight grip. When I twisted my body to the left I could make out the uniform of an Australian officer, tall and broad-shouldered. I thought it might be Ross, teasing me, trying to scare me for some reason.

‘Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone in the dark,’ he said. His voice was flat and nasal and familiar. Lieutenant Lance Cole. ‘Don’t you remember Leonski? And now there’s this axe attacker to worry about.’ There was a laugh, a snorting sound without any mirth in it.

Fumbling a little, I shifted the torch into my left hand and shone it at him. The light danced over his handsome, dissolute face.

I shook my arm free. ‘It’s perfectly safe,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘I’m nearly home.’ I glanced around me. I couldn’t see anyone else nearby.

He slid an arm around my waist. I pushed it aside. It came around my waist again. He squeezed me tightly against his body, and I smelled the wet wool of his greatcoat and the booze he’d obviously been drinking. I twisted out of his grip and moved a few paces away. My scarf had unwound from my face so the air was too cold and I was breathing too fast. The familiar tightening in my chest was a warning.

‘Stop that,’ I said.

‘You told the police all sorts of lies about Violet and me. Were you listening to us, late at night? There’s a name for that.’

‘She’d been attacked. I told them the truth.’

‘I loved that girl. And you spoiled it all.’

He stepped closer and I wondered what he was intending to do. It crossed my mind that I should cry out, or run away. But I couldn’t run without setting off my asthma. Then, all at once, it was as if the world had shifted, and I remembered how Frank had looked before he’d strike me. And then I was afraid.

In a quick movement Cole was again standing too close to me. I stepped back. My torch was still in my left hand, and I shone it straight in his eyes, making him wince into the glare. My hand was wrenched as he grabbed the torch. The sharp pain in my wrist made me cry out and I was shocked into immobility. He threw the torch into the bushes beside us, where I could see it lighting up leaves and twigs. I stared at him stupidly, hearing the wheeze in every inhalation and in each puff of white air that escaped from my lungs. I tensed to run, but before I could get away from him, he slid both hands around to grab my bottom and he pulled me hard against his body. I felt his arousal and my fear intensified.

‘What’s the matter, love?’

I snapped, ‘Let go of me,’ trying to sound tough, unafraid. I tried to shove him away. He didn’t budge. I pushed again, but it was like pushing against rock. Now I was furious at myself, at my helplessness, at my fear of this strong man who stank of alcohol and who was hurting me, in a dark place with no one around. Men like him were just too damn strong, I thought. I was sick of feeling small and helpless. Anger gave me courage, and I pulled my hand free and slapped him hard on the cheek. That had an effect. He winced, and the hold on my bottom tightened painfully.