The Traitor's Bones

by Evelyn James

  Chapter Ten

  Colonel Brandt called on Clara a couple of days after their meeting to say he had managed to make contact with Colonel Matthews and had persuaded him to speak to Clara. The appointment was arranged for the following day in London, where Matthews had his regimental office. Brandt would accompany her to make the relevant introductions and keep Matthews in line.

  They travelled on the early train the next morning, Brandt explaining that Matthews had been reluctant to agree and Brandt had to pull rank (or rather he played on the fact he had once ranked higher than Matthews) to secure the meeting. Clara was extremely grateful, but also concerned that Matthews would only tell her the bare minimum of what he knew.

  They arrived in London in plenty of time for their meeting and walked to the building where Matthews had his office. Brandt took a deep breath as they stood before the tall structure with its fine Victorian architecture.

  “Seems so long ago I was last here,” he said. “That window, third floor, fourth from the right, was for my office. I spent so many hours looking out onto this road. But, my, that must be ten years ago now.”

  Brandt whistled through his teeth.

  “I was damn old before the war, too old to be worth anything to the army. I’m even older now.”

  “You are worth an awful lot to me,” Clara reminded him gently. “And you are not that old.”

  Brandt’s frown lifted and he smiled at Clara.

  “Let’s find out what my replacement has been up to, shall we?”

  They walked in and introduced themselves to the concierge. After he had looked through a book to confirm they had an appointment, he took them upstairs to the third floor and knocked on Colonel Matthews’ office door. Brandt was amused that Matthews now occupied his old office. Amused, but a little saddened by nostalgia too. Matthews asked for them to enter and they obeyed.

  Sitting behind a very grand desk, Matthews looked imposing. He was tall, at least six foot in height, even sitting down he seemed to tower. He had lost nearly all of his hair and this was unfortunate as his ears jutted quite proudly from the side of his head and, without a mop of hair to mask them, this anatomical defect was extremely noticeable. He had a pudgy face, but was not fat, far from it. He clearly took great pride in his physique and Clara noted numerous athletics trophies dotted about the room, along with photographs of Matthews proudly winning races. He had extremely pale eyes that were slightly sinister, especially when they peered from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. He took these off as his guests entered and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “Colonel Brandt,” he rose and offered a hand to his former commander. “And you must be Clara Fitzgerald?”

  Clara was surprised when he offered her his hand too. It was not every day that a man, especially an army officer, shook her hand. In her experience, the military were some of the worst for accepting that women were capable of independence and worthy of being treated as equals. She gladly shook Colonel Matthews’ hand and her impression of him dramatically improved.

  “Take a seat,” Matthews pointed to the chairs before his desk.

  The concierge had retired and the door was shut behind them. Colonel Matthews took his own place and folded his hands together on the table.

  “I have a broad idea of why you are here,” he said, largely to Clara. “Of course, I had your letter earlier too. This is not a meeting I ever wanted to have.”

  “May I just say that I will take everything you say to me in complete confidence,” Clara swiftly promised. “I am seeking out answers, that is all, I am not here to question your actions or your reputation.”

  Colonel Matthews tilted his head, almost surprised by her words, then he smiled.

  “And I shall just say that were it not for Colonel Brandt’s persuasion, you would not be here at all,” he said. “I had no intention of ever discussing that horrid affair, for my own reasons. Personal ones.”

  “Your silence has left people with a lot of questions,” Clara pointed out.

  “What people?” Matthews asked.

  Clara knew that he was implying that he had done his duty by Christian’s father and no one else’s curiosity should matter.

  “Father Lound’s sister has spent the last five years confused and forever wondering what became of her brother. Five years in which she could not grieve properly or know what became of him. Your silence has done her a grave disservice.”

  Colonel Matthews dropped his head and it seemed to Clara that he regretted this. At least she hoped that was what he felt. When he looked up again he seemed resolved.

  “I will answer your questions just this once, and then I shall never speak of Father Lound again,” Matthews told her bluntly. “This is a very delicate matter, the consequences of the truth getting out could be more hurtful to Christian’s family.”

  “You mean to his father’s political career?” Clara was equally blunt. “Which is pretty much finished in any case. I am curious, why do you care about the family’s reputation?”

  Matthews’ smile became wistful.

  “A favour for a favour,” he said softly. “It is really rather simple. Amadeus Lound was not always the selfish oaf you see today. He entered politics because he once cared about other people, and then he lost his way. But I am not here to redeem his character, only to pay him back for a great thing he did for me. He saved my life.”

  Colonel Brandt started to take interest.

  “Really?” He said. “In the army?”

  “Before then,” Matthews explained. “When we were boys we were at the same public school. We were both keen swimmers and there was a lake in the grounds where the boys were allowed to swim. I went out one day as usual. It was cold, but not so cold I was concerned about swimming. I started out just fine, but halfway across the lake I suffered a terrible cramp in my side and stomach. I was incapable of swimming and I started to sink under. I would have drowned that day, only Amadeus Lound swam out and rescued me.

  “I promised to one day repay the favour. To one day save his life. Well, that day never came, but an opportunity to save his reputation did and I took it. I warned him that his son’s actions could harm him and then I took steps to see that the matter went away.”

  “You hushed it up?” Clara asked, her tone a fraction accusing.

  “No, I did my job, I just didn’t push too hard,” Colonel Matthews did not take her words to heart. “No one was harmed. I would not have allowed Christian’s treachery to disrupt the war effort.”

  Clara frowned.

  “Why did you suspect Father Lound was a traitor?”

  “There had been talk,” Colonel Matthews said. “This is to go no further, you understand?”

  His tone had suddenly become alarmed. Clara just nodded.

  “I understand. I don’t intend to tarnish Father Lound’s reputation this late in the day.”

  Colonel Matthews gave the impression that he didn’t think Father Lound had a reputation to tarnish.

  “For some time I had been aware of rumours that a person connected to Albion Hope was passing information to the Germans. It was not vital stuff, mostly, but information garnered from men visiting the house. To test my concerns, I sent one of my officers to the house with a document in his pocket that supposedly showed our local gun emplacements. Of course, it was all false, but I knew that this paper would tempt out our traitor.

  “My officer pretended to be careless, letting the paper fall out of his pocket in public so its contents could be seen, then hastily retrieving it. The trick worked, when he left his tunic jacket hanging on a hook in the hall, the paper was taken from his pocket. He reported back at once and I arrived at Albion Hope and insisted everyone there was searched.

  “There was naturally a lot of upset. I remember Father Lound stood very calmly and berated me for causing chaos in a house of peace. He did not resist me searching his own office however, and there I found the paper. He would not say how it came to be there. He did not even deny he had ta
ken it. He just said nothing.”

  “Isn’t that slightly odd?” Colonel Brandt interrupted. “If the man really was a traitor, why did he let you search his office when he knew you would find the paper?”

  “He had no choice,” Colonel Matthews shrugged, thinking that was obvious.

  “He gave you no explanation for his actions?” Clara asked.

  “None,” Matthews shook his head, and now he paused, as if a thought had just come to him. “That did seem slightly odd. I thought he might have offered a religious or moral explanation. Something along the lines of pacifism. Priests are always pacifists and that makes them a nuisance among the men. They never understand the point of war.”

  Clara’s mind went back to Father Dobson, she understood how there could be conflict between priests and military officers.

  “But you did not arrest Father Lound?” She said.

  “I was already aware of who Father Lound was, and I had not expected to find the papers in his office and that threw me at first. I had to go away and think about things. Had I not been so shocked I would have reacted better, I would have arrested him at once.”

  Colonel Matthews paused, realising the implications of all he had just said. He had not performed his duty as he should have done. He had neglected it. He shook off the thought and the regret.

  “I had to go away and think about things. By the time I returned, intending to arrest Father Lound, he had vanished. I thought that for the best and did not make an effort to pursue the matter. He could do no more harm now he was exposed,” Matthews paused. “Few people knew about the papers being found in Lound’s office. I could keep the matter quiet. I don’t believe I did anything wrong. I ensured a traitor could no longer operate and protected his family, who were innocent in all this, from being treated like criminals along with him. Can you imagine what would have happened to the Lounds had it become public knowledge their son had betrayed his country? I had to consider all that. His father would have been hounded from politics, his mother would have never been able to hold her head up again. His sister would have been an outcast. His treachery would have claimed far more victims after it was discovered than it ever had before.”

  Colonel Brandt was nodding his head along with this.

  “Sometimes we have to look at the bigger picture,” he mumbled.

  Clara was not listening to them. She was thinking that a single stolen paper in an office did not add up to a criminal case. It was worrying, of course, but did it make sense? Father Lound had never denied or confessed to his crime. He had never explained himself. Also, she wondered if he was really stupid enough to leave the paper to be so easily found?

  “Did you know that in 1918 a body was found in the woods near the town, and it might have been the body of a priest?” Clara asked. “The victim had been shot in the back of the head.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Colonel Matthews replied. “By 1918 I was in another part of the country. I am sorry to hear that was the case. Presumably someone caught up with Lound. Maybe the Germans slew him for his failure.”

  “The man had lain in the woods a long time. Probably he died around the time Father Lound disappeared. Maybe, in fact, that is why Father Lound disappeared?”

  “You are suggesting I had the man executed?” Matthews grasped her implication. “To protect the family name? No, I did not do that. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Matthews, was there any reason, other than the paper, to suspect Father Lound was unpatriotic?” Colonel Brandt asked, side-stepping Clara’s unsettling implication that his comrade might have murdered a man.

  Colonel Matthews paused, the question causing him some concern.

  “To be perfectly honest, no, he is the last man I would have suspected,” Colonel Matthews finally said. “But, then again, that is how these things go sometimes. A good traitor will not make himself obvious.”

  “A good traitor,” Brandt chuckled at the choice of words. “An ironic thing to say.”

  “You get my point,” Matthews looked mildly embarrassed. “I was greatly disheartened to find it was a man of the cloth behind such activities. Perhaps more so because I felt that Father Lound had a deep concern for the troops and was keen to support them. He cared, or so I had imagined, and it seemed odd that he would be doing something that put them in harm’s way. If he had passed on that information about the guns, and had it been accurate, then he would have been setting up his own nation’s men to be slaughtered by the Germans in a ranged attack. I still find it hard to imagine he would do such a thing.”

  “Might there have been a mistake?” Clara asked as delicately as she could. “Might Father Lound have realised the paper had been left in a dangerous place and removed it for safekeeping?”

  “Then why did he not say as much when we raised the alarm about it being missing?” Colonel Matthews said.

  “The other possibility is that the good Father was protecting someone,” Brandt mused.

  That caused everyone to briefly fall silent. Clara shook her head.

  “That means he willingly protected a traitor. It seems just as unpatriotic as stealing the paper on purpose.”

  “He would have been an accomplice to the crime,” Colonel Matthews added. “I would find it hard to have sympathy for a man who acted in such a way. Protecting a traitor who has caused harm to the very men attempting to protect Belgium? It beggars belief.”

  “He might have had a reason,” Colonel Brandt continued with his train of thought. “Not everything is black and white. Maybe the traitor was not a willing one. Perhaps they were being blackmailed by the Germans?”

  “That is a supposition based on no evidence,” Colonel Matthews dismissed the idea out of hand. “From my perspective, it seemed, and still seems, that the traitor was Father Lound. His reasons I do not know. I should have arrested him there and then, but I explained why I did not. I am even prepared to admit, all these years after the war, that there was a part of me that hoped he would run and spare me the complication of charging a priest with treachery. In that regard, he behaved as I expected.”

  “There has to be something more to this,” Clara frowned. “Or am I just trying to hope too hard that Father Lound was not a black-hearted traitor prepared to sell out his own people?”

  “Every traitor has his reasons,” Colonel Matthews said quietly, his hands still folded on the table before him. “None of us is privileged to look into another man’s heart and know what lurks there. Whatever the logic Father Lound used to convince himself to do what he did, I certainly do not know it and, as it seems he is dead, no one ever shall.

  “You ought not to chase these shadows, Miss Fitzgerald. They will only cause you disappointment and misery.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Clara had come to the end of what she could achieve in England. Colonel Matthews had not provided the answers she had hoped for and she was not prepared to tell Emily what she had learned without being able to supply a reason for Father Lound’s actions. She was hoping for an answer that was kinder to his memory than that he was simply out for money or believed the Germans should win. In any case, she had not resolved what had become of him, and there were those bones in Belgium that troubled her.

  Clara sent a message to Emily to let her know that there was now no choice, Clara needed to go to Belgium to continue her case. Emily wrote back, enclosing an open ticket for a steamer to the Continent. It appeared she had purchased it in advance, expecting Clara to need it sooner rather than later. There was nothing left to do but buy tickets for Tommy and Annie.

  “Colonel Brandt has said he would like to come with me,” Clara told Tommy the day she was going to get the tickets. “He hopes he might be of use. That means you do not need to come, if you so wish.”

  Tommy had hesitated long enough to indicate to Clara that he was tempted by the offer, then he sighed.

  “Got to be done,” he muttered under his breath, then louder to Clara. “Buy us a ticket, old girl.”

&nb
sp; The following day, with the sun shining down upon them, they headed for the steamer. Colonel Brandt was dressed in his best tweed suit and had a stylish new walking cane. He seemed quite jolly about the whole thing. Tommy was quiet and his silence became more noticeable the closer they came to the steamer. Annie took his hand and squeezed it.

  “I haven’t ever been abroad before,” she said with a twinge of nerves. “What are foreign people like?”

  Tommy was nudged out of his doldrums by her agitation.

  “They are just like us, Annie,” he promised. “They just speak a different language.”

  “I saw this article once, in one of my magazines, about gangs of thieves and murderers who roam the countryside in foreign countries. I hadn’t thought about that until right now.”

  “The Belgians are very civilised,” Tommy promised her. “I wouldn’t pay much heed to that article, at all.”

  “Well, as long as I am not going to get murdered in my bed,” Annie gave an awkward laugh, then she became serious. “I’m not going to get murdered in my bed, am I?”

  Clara was not paying attention to the ongoing discussion between her brother and Annie. She was only vaguely aware that Tommy was attempting to convinced Annie that they were not about to go to Belgium and be murdered. Clara had other matters on her mind, namely the papers she had brought in an attaché case. She had gone through Gerald Priggins file once again and added to it from the loose papers in the box Emily had supplied. She now had all the relevant items in her case and at her disposal should she need them. She could not help wondering what she was going to find in Belgium.

  She came to a pause at the foot of the walkway up to the steamer. Glancing behind she realised she was alone. Annie and Tommy were intensely conversing about survival abroad, while Colonel Brandt was busy organising the careful stowing of his travelling trunk. Clara almost smiled to herself. Funny how always on a case, eventually she had to go it alone. There seemed a certain significance to the fact that she would be striding up the gangplank on her own. The burden of discovery was always on her shoulders and no one else’s.