In the Teeth of Adversity (17 page)

The General had remained standing. Now he began to pace the room. He knew we were there, but I wondered if he knew who we were. There was no particular recognition in the sharp glances he slanted at us as he paced past.

“I must ask you to keep what I am about to tell you in strictest confidence,” he warned us, evidently coming to some decision and sitting down in the chair opposite us. Even Pandora stirred uneasily at that; the knowledge that it boded no good was in the air.

“There has been a strange woman lurking about headquarters recently,” he continued. “Behaving in an odd manner. I'll be candid – I suspect espionage.”

“You see,” Gerry muttered, “I knew we'd get around to Mata Hari sooner or later.”

“What's that?” The General pounced. “Do you know her?”

“No. No.” Gerry hastily declined the honour. “Behaving oddly, was she? Most women do.”

Poor Adele. It occurred to me that not the least of Tyler Meredith's charm in her eyes might have been that, having stolen his partner's wife, he would have had to move her to different premises. Whether or not the partnership was dissolved, he could hardly maintain her in his resident flat. A desperate woman might do a lot to escape this booby hatch, especially if she had been trapped here for any length of time. No wonder she was behaving oddly. The wonder was that anyone so odd as the General himself was able to register it.

The General was still regarding us expectantly, but we let the silence drag on. Perhaps it's cynicism, or perhaps it's a natural consequence of being in PR, but we've found that people seldom confide in you without actually expecting you to
do
something about the situation.

We waited for the crunch. It wasn't long in coming, delivered more in sorrow than in anger, as though he has expected better from us. We weren't shaping up as the fighting force an ambitious General had the right to anticipate leading.

“What are we going to do about it, eh?” He paused only fractionally, as though suspecting he wasn't going to get an answer from us. At least, not a useful one.

“I'll tell you. We'll set a trap. Catch her in the act. And then we can deal with the little traitor.”

How far was one expected to go in humouring a client's relatives? A grotesque vision of a blindfolded Adele facing a firing squad rose up before my eyes. I balked at visualizing the possible members of the firing squad. That would be above and beyond the call of duty, and besides, Zayle seemed quite fond of his wife for some obscure reason. Humouring his father to that extent wouldn't gain us any gratitude.

Unlike me, Pandora was soothed by the flow of conversation. She was a companionable little cat and very fond of social gatherings. The new human on her horizon was worth investigating. She dropped to the floor, stretched luxuriously, and strolled over to the General.

“What we'll do...” the General continued. It was easy to see that there was going to be no nonsense about asking for volunteers this time. We were being given our orders and that was that.

“Prrow?” Pandora was not accustomed to being ignored when she chose to exert her charms. She reared up, placing both front paws on the General's knee. “Prrow?”

“Eh?” Momentarily diverted, the General looked down at her, and then accusingly at me, as though what might have been reasonably expected to be a secure piece of my clothing had come adrift.

“Pandora,” I called. “Come here.”

“Pandora,” the General said thoughtfully, making no response to her overtures. “A bit on the thin side, isn't she?”

“I think she's just built that way,” I said defensively. “She eats like a horse.”

“Perhaps she'll fatten up.” The General leaned down and prodded a tentative forefinger into her ribs.

“Pandora, come back,” I said. “Don't bother the General. He doesn't like cats.”

“Nonsense!” the General boomed. “Of course I like cats. We often had them in the front lines.” He prodded Pandora again. “Quite tasty, they were.”

Pandora flinched away from the prodding finger and backed toward me, a thoughtful light in the eyes she kept fixed warily on the General. She backed until she bumped into my ankles, then, with an “Aaar-ahh!” she whirled and scrambled for my shoulders. She seemed to feel that she was adequately protected when she placed my neck between herself and the rest of the world.

The General frowned at her judiciously. “Keep at her,” he said. “Fatten her up properly and she'll do you two or three days.”

Beside me, I heard Gerry gag quietly, but I was too stunned to do more than murmur, “Yes, sir.” The General's notion that I was packing Pandora as some kind of emergency rations was too mind-boggling to be taken in. I resolved I wasn't going to let her out of my sight while we were in this house. And if the General made one false move toward Pandora, I'd break his arm even if I was court-martialled for it.

“We'll deploy our forces.” Dismissing the subject of Pandora and serenely oblivious to our reactions, the General went back to his strategy. “Use our men to the best advantage.” He frowned. “It's a nuisance Geoffrey isn't here – I was counting on his help.”

I was wishing he were here myself. With the General in this mood, I felt our side needed all the reinforcements it could get.

“He may be on his way.” Gerry stood up hopefully. “Perhaps, if I went and looked for him –”

“Sit down!” The General could recognize a shirker when he saw one, and Gerry wasn't going to get out of it this time.

“It was just a suggestion.” Gerry smiled weakly, relapsing into his seat.

“Now, you” – the General indicated me – “will take sentry duty on this floor and the floor below. Patrol the entire area – but keep out of sight.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, trying to figure out the mechanics of that one.

“You” – he glared at Gerry with distaste – “will have to take the upper floors – and the roof.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Gerry said, getting his Services rather unfortunately muddled.

“I'll take the ground floor myself.” The General frowned again. “I wish Geoffrey were here – he's the only man I'd trust on the back exit.”

Pandora rumbled something low in her throat. The General glared at her, but obviously realized the impracticability of trying to discipline a cat for insubordination.

“You're sure you're perfectly clear as to your duties?” he queried.

Gerry and I nodded dumbly. We were as clear as we'd ever be.

“Very well.” The General stood up. “Let's get to it!”

Penny was just emerging from the surgery as we marched downstairs to station me at my post. I thought there was a slightly strained air about her. The General simply nodded to her brusquely, then swept Gerry back up the stairs, presumably to install him – and perhaps drill him in his duties – before taking up his own post in the lower regions.

Oddly, Penny didn't nod back – nor did she speak to any of us. She moved toward the stairs as though oblivious to us all. It wasn't like her. I moved forward and intercepted her, forcing her to look at me.

“Penny,” I said. “Are you all right?”

She looked at and through me. “Yes,” she said vaguely.

“We came as soon as we could after you telephoned. I'm sorry, but we got waylaid by the General. We were here in the house, at least, if you needed us. Don't be angry –” I broke off. There was no anger there. In fact, there seemed to be nothing at all there – not even Penny. I began to get worried. More worried, that is.

“Penny, what's wrong?”

“I want a breath of air.” She tried to move past me. “I must go for a walk. A long walk.”

“Penny!” I caught her arm, pulling her back. “Penny, what's the matter?”

“I must go for a walk,” she repeated. “I must have air.”

“Penny –” Cold panic seized me. “You haven't been sniffing that new anaesthetic, have you?”

She looked at me blankly. “I must go for –”

“All right, all right. I heard you the first time. Penny, just tell me this. What frightened you? Why did you telephone?”

“Telephone?” It might never have been invented. She said the word as blankly as though she were living in as distant a world as those the General inhabited. For an unsettling moment, I wondered if it were catching. Then I pulled myself together.

“Penny! – PENNY!” It was ridiculous to shout at her, still more ridiculous to want to shake her. I had her gaze on me, but I didn't have her attention. I couldn't even begin to guess where that might be focused. “Penny –”

“I must go for a walk,” she repeated mechanically. “I must have air.”

“At least, put your coat on.” I capitulated, letting go of her arm. “It's getting cold outside.” Perhaps, after she had had her walk, she would be more herself. Pandora shifted on my shoulder and grumbled restlessly. She didn't like it, either.

“I must have air.” Still unseeing, probably unhearing, for she made no move to get her coat, Penny began to descend the stairs. “I must go for a long, long walk ...” Her voice trailed away.

Must.
It was an unlikely word to keep using. Perhaps that was what made me uneasy. I stared after her retreating figure. Should I let her go, or should I –

“You're not on guard!” The General's crisp complaint whirled me about to face him. “I came down those stairs, not trying to be quiet – practically stamping my feet – and you don't even glance my way. Fine sentry! The enemy could slip up behind you and slit your throat and you wouldn't know a thing.”

And
that
was just the sort of cheery thought for the night that I needed right now. I wondered if the General had ever heard the word “morale” – or whether he thought it didn't apply to the troops under his command.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” I muttered. Pandora added a couple of embellishments of her own to my remarks, but the General ignored us both. The lower ranks weren't supposed to have feelings – only duties.

He pulled himself up, drew a deep breath, and I was obviously about to get a practical demonstration of the technique that had made him the terror of the troops when the front door slammed. He instantly forgot me and turned toward the stairs. “Is that you, Geoffrey?”

I was right behind him. It wasn't like Penny to slam doors. Unless the wind had wrenched it out of her fingers and slammed it shut. But there had been no wind when we came in.

“Geoffrey?” There was no answer; the hall was dark and silent below us. “Geoffrey?”

“I think it was Penny going out,” I said.

“Late.” The General glanced at his watch. “Very late. I can't understand what's keeping him.”

“The conference, sir,” I reminded him. “Very important. At the War Office, I think.” With a sinking feeling, I wondered if I was going to have to keep reminding him all night. How firm was his grasp on anything he was told?

“War Office!” The General snorted. “War Office! They –” He glanced at me sharply and bit back whatever else he was going to say. Obviously, officers kept their worst opinions of their colleagues from the lower ranks.

“Nevertheless,” he continued pettishly, “Geoffrey
ought
to get here as soon as possible. I particularly impressed upon him how urgent it was. Vital to the war effort. A matter of national concern. Life and death.”

“He'll break away as soon as he can, I'm certain.” I wondered if Sir Geoffrey was in the telephone directory. It might be a good idea to nip into the living quarters and warn him that he was expected to rally round, present arms, and play hunt-the-spy. On the other hand, perhaps he was weary of these alarms and excursions and might more kindly be left to port and cigars by his own hearth. The General, I had already noticed, expected rather a lot from his friends.

“Quite right,” the General said. “True-blue, Geoffrey. Never shirks his duty. He'll be along.”

Down below, the front door slammed again. I beat the General to the top of the stairs. “Penny?” I called. “Is that you?”

“No.” The voice was too deep for Penny and there was a military precision to the footsteps marching across the hallway as though in time to martial music.

“Gone missing, has she?” Sir Geoffrey mounted the stairs at double time. I spared a moment to hope I had that much energy at that age. I doubted it, though. I hadn't
that
much energy at
this
age. Obviously, the military was a healthier life than public relations.
Any
life must be a healthier life than public relations.

“Lost her, have you?” Sir Geoffrey pulled up in front of me, eyes sparkling, not even breathing deeply, ready for any adventures the night might bring.

“No, nothing like that,” I protested feebly, wondering how I could resign my share in any adventure to him – he was far better able to cope with it. “She just stepped out for a breath of air, that's all. I just wondered if she –”

“That's the little girl you've had helping Endicott?”

I nodded. Penny wouldn't have relished being described as a “little girl,” but to Sir Geoffrey, anyone under forty was obviously a babe-in-arms.

“Saw her as I came along the street,” he informed me. “Didn't look too well.” He frowned professionally. “Seemed almost in a daze. Spoke to her, but she looked right through me.” He brightened. “She might not have recognized me and thought I was trying to pick her up.”

“No time for that, Geoffrey.” General Sir Malcolm advanced upon us. “She's not the one we've got to worry about. This was going on before she appeared on the scene.”

“Eh?” Sir Geoffrey swung his alert attention to his friend. “What was?”

“Back to your post!” the General thundered at me. I backed up smartly. Pandora, who hates loud noises, made a suitable comment for both of us.