‘Needs his blasted chimneys sweeping,’ she said.
Not knowing what to look for or what was required of him, Alec sat down behind the desk and watched as Molly and Adam cast about the room. Apart from Molly’s attack on the chimney, they touched nothing, just looked and Alec was reminded again of the instructions his boss had given him at Alec’s first serious crime scene.
‘Stand and look. Then look again and don’t forget the ground beneath your feet.’
He glanced at the desk and the contents of the in-trays. A diary, from the look of it, sat in one. Curious, he picked it up and flicked through, ignoring Molly’s stern look. She obviously thought he was interfering. Apart from hospital appointments and the odd lunch, a note about the church bazaar and a reminder to pay his electric bill, the diary was disappointingly empty. Entries stopped altogether about a month before, Alec noted. Presumably when Joseph went into the hospice.
A handful of letters and bills occupied the other tray and Alec shuffled through. He was a little disappointed to find that they were mostly utilities – marked paid and the payment date noted down. A card from someone wishing him a speedy recovery and a letter from the vicar who had led the burial service telling Joseph that he would visit at the hospice on his – the vicar’s – return. The letter was postmarked Brighton and Alec wondered if he had been the source of the seaside souvenirs. He wondered, if so, were they intended ironically or did he genuinely think that Joseph would like an egg timer with a picture of a beach on it, or a shell-encrusted box, topped off by a picture of Brighton Pier. He fought down the urge to go back to the pub and ask. He guessed the vicar would still be there, toasting Joseph’s memory along with the rest of the locals. It seemed that Joseph – or Joe – had truly found his place in this little community.
The desk itself was modern and cheap, probably a flatpack from one of the big DIY chains, Alec thought. It looked out of place in the room. Too new and too stark. Three drawers, no locks, one deep enough to take files. He resisted the urge to look inside. It seemed rude to start a proper search before his companions (glancing through the contents of a wire tray really didn’t count, Alec thought). But Molly and Adam seemed oddly reluctant to begin.
‘What are you looking for?’ he asked finally as Molly made her third, slow circuit of the room.
‘Anything out of place.’
‘And how would you know? You’ve neither of you been here before.’
‘No, but I know Joseph. Knew, Joseph,’ she corrected herself. ‘You get a feeling for these things.’
Alec raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you even know what you might be looking for? Anyway, you seem to think someone else will have searched here already, so I really don’t quite see the point.’
Impatient, he tugged the drawers open and felt around inside, checking beneath them as well. They seemed oddly empty. Paper, envelopes, paperclips and other stationery supplies, all neatly placed, and the filing drawer held only old bills and the odd postcard. Receipts for a new fridge and DVD player, other random detritus the like of which would be found in any home office or, in Alec’s case, kitchen drawer.
He got up and went to examine the nearest bookshelves. Volumes of poetry and travel, literature and science sat side by side. The company they kept seemed random; Keats beside an old Baedeker Guide to Berlin. A book on Middle Eastern spices next to an atlas that, judging by the binding, appeared to date from the mid-1900s. No rhyme nor reason that Alec could see.
‘Don’t touch anything else,’ Molly warned. ‘If Joseph left us a message, you could ruin the entire meaning by moving something you shouldn’t.’
‘A message? Molly, I think you’re being deluded.’ He sat back down behind the desk and closed his eyes, suddenly very weary with all this cloak and dagger stuff. ‘Don’t you lot ever retire?’ he asked irritably. ‘I mean, old spies, or whatever you all were, surely you eventually retire just like everyone else. Can’t you just leave this to whoever … I don’t know, whoever … the new spies are?’
‘Some of us try to retire,’ Adam said heavily. ‘Some of us thought they had.’
Molly harrumphed and paced the room for a fourth time. Alec felt in his pocket for the photograph Barnes had given to him. He’d meant to show it to Molly that morning, but he’d been a little late getting to her house and she’d been cross and the moment hadn’t seemed to be right. Another moment hadn’t really come. Until now.
‘Want to tell me what this means,’ he said, lying the picture down on the desk. ‘DI Barnes said it was found in the filing cabinet at Gilligan and Hayes. They know it wasn’t there before our visit because the whole place had been photographed in microscopic detail. It mysteriously appeared after we let you off the leash for a few minutes.’
Adam glanced across, evidently puzzled. Alec saw Molly square her shoulders, stiffen her back, and prepare to go into denial mode.
Adam came over and picked the photograph up, frowning.
‘Molly?’ he said. ‘Molly? You kept this?’
‘What of it?’ she said.
‘What of it? Molly, these things should have been destroyed. You kept this?’
She shrugged again. ‘Oh get off your high horse, Adam. We all did things we really should not have done. At first it was just an accident. There wasn’t time when we left Leopoldville, so we just gathered what we could and took it with us. Later, well it seemed like, well, we didn’t quite know what to do with it. Who to give it to.’
‘Give it to? Molly, you could just have burned the damn thing.’
‘No.’ Molly shook her head. ‘We thought so, and then we read it. We looked inside and we found … Well, it doesn’t really matter what we found. You can guess. If not the exact details, you can guess what kind of thing we read. Edward realized it could be like an insurance policy. It could protect.’
‘Protect you? You used this for blackmail, Molly?’
She shook her head. ‘Not us. No. Others that had fewer resources, less help than we had. The vulnerable, the lost. Oh, Adam, you’ve travelled the same path as we did. You know what it’s like. You have to be prepared to protect yourself and also, if you have any conscience at all, to protect those who have helped you, worked with you.’
‘Which is exactly why files like that should have been destroyed, Molly. You know better than that. You know exactly how dangerous—’
‘Files like what?’ Alec demanded. ‘Look, the two of you might get off on playing games. I can appreciate it might be hard to give up on all that mystery, all that sense of your own damned importance. It must get to be a habit, maybe even like some kind of drug. But some of us, most of us, just want a quiet bloody life. No dramas, no international crises, no skeletons in cupboards. Molly, for Christ’s sake, will you just tell me what the hell is going on?’
‘I can’t,’ Molly said. ‘I can’t, Alec, because I no longer know. I know what we all did and what the consequences were. Believe me, we did retire. We did hand over to the new, modern versions of ourselves. We did bury our pasts. But some things just won’t stay bloody buried and it’s no good pretending they will. Past isn’t past until everyone involved in it or touched by it is dead and buried and everything that ever touched them is likewise. You can do nothing about that, Alec and neither can I and sometimes knowing more won’t keep you safer or tell you what you should do. It will just make you a target. Just make you into one of those people who have touched those that were there and are, therefore, also a threat. So don’t ask me. I can’t tell and I won’t.’
‘I think it’s a bit late for that,’ Alec told her coldly. ‘I’m already involved and so is my wife. Involved because we care about you and also because you’ve already pulled us in, Molly. You used me to lie to Barnes and you used me to help you plant this file, whatever it is, in Gilligan’s office. Well, Molly, the upshot of that is that Barnes has been told to drop the case. That he’s been told to leave you alone. Been told that this is now a Home Office affair and well above the pay grade of some sim
ple little provincial DI. Is that what you wanted, Molly? Did you get the desired effect?’
The silence in the room deepened as Molly looked away from him, refusing to reply. Alec could see her lip quivering, the Molly equivalent of full scale emotional breakdown. Adam stood silent. Finally he said, ‘It won’t be the Home Office. That will just be a convenient label, a cover for whatever department is now dealing with the deep past. But Alec is right, my dear. We’ve been stupid and careless and the pair of us are far too old and far too tired to take all of this kind of thing in our stride these days.’
He held up a hand to stop her when Molly looked about to protest. ‘Alec, this Inspector Barnes, is he the kind of man that is likely to just let things go?’
‘I don’t suppose so,’ Alec said reluctantly. ‘Being told to back off is a bit like waving a red rag at a bull. He’ll wonder why. He may do as he’s told, but, if he’s anything like I would be, he’ll just get hold of a big stick and poke at the problem from a distance.’
‘Then you need to talk to him. Tell him to let it go.’
‘Before I do that, you need to give me a reason,’ Alec said. ‘Like I said, he’s been in the job long enough to become an Inspector. You don’t do that without being a tenacious bugger.’
Adam nodded. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I think even if Joseph left anything here for us then the chances are it’s already gone. Molly, I think we should all practise what we preach and get out of this mess once and for all. Time to walk away.’
‘You can’t be serious!’ Molly exploded.
‘Oh, but I am.’ He put a finger to his lips and took something from his pocket. To Alec it looked like an ordinary mobile phone. He held it up and showed it to Molly. Alec, watching, saw her nod.
‘One quick look,’ she said. ‘In case we’ve missed something and, Adam, I’d like a souvenir. A book or a … I don’t know, a something to remember him by. Joseph was a part of our lives for so long, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’
Alec, not sure what was going on, said the first thing that came to mind. ‘Who is the beneficiary of his estate, Adam? Molly, I’m not sure you should be—’
‘Oh, Alec, don’t fuss, so. Joseph wouldn’t care what I took.’
Adam shrugged and Molly seemed to take that as permission. Once again she prowled the study, examining the bookshelves and occasionally removing something. To Alec’s eyes her choices seemed random; as random as Joseph’s shelving had been. He sighed, giving in to the moment and sat down again. Molly would take her own sweet time, he was sure of that. He took out his phone and thought about calling Naomi, then put it away, thinking he should wait until he had a sense of when he’d be taking Molly home. If Naomi was worried about anything she would call him.
Glancing up, he noticed that Adam had left the room and a moment later he heard footsteps on the stairs.
‘Adam needed to use the facilities,’ Molly said.
‘So he could hide a file? Molly, what on earth did you think—’
Molly turned on him, her expression fierce. ‘I thought it was time I did the right thing,’ she said angrily. ‘Sometimes, we just have to. All of us, no matter what.’
Alec held up his hands, signalling surrender and Molly turned away, taking another book from the shelf and flicking through the pages. As Alec watched, she paused, removed what looked like a postcard from between the pages and studied it for a moment before replacing it and closing the book.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Well I suppose we should be going. Whoever gets this place will be getting a cosy little home. Maybe you and Naomi should think about it if it comes on to the market.’
‘Not enough garden,’ Alec said automatically. He could hear Adam moving about upstairs and then descending, his footsteps slow and steady.
‘I think we’re ready to go, now,’ Alec told him. ‘Molly seems to have found her souvenir.’
Adam nodded. Alec could see he looked anxious about something, but Molly was hustling them out of the door and so he let it go.
‘What were you showing to Molly? On your phone?’ Alec asked when they were once more out on the narrow village street and heading back towards The Green Man.
Adam took the phone from his pocket and showed it to Alec. It looked like an ordinary smart phone, similar to the one Alec carried. ‘As Molly may or may not have told you, my expertise is in electronics and communication. I made a few modifications to my phone. Added a few apps, as they say in modern parlance.’
He swiped through a few screens, then stopped at one which showed some kind of waveform pattern. It looked to Alec like the track he got on his graphic equalizer at home.
‘And what does that mean?’ he asked.
‘It means that Joseph’s place has been bugged,’ Adam said. ‘I don’t know who by, but whoever it is, the bugs are still active. Whoever it is, they are still listening in.’
‘You talked about saving a child,’ Naomi said. It was warm for early October and she could feel the sun on her face and a light breeze carried the scent of flowers and damp earth. The small amount of light and dark visual perception left to her, suggested they were walking under trees, evenly spaced and grown tall and wide.
‘A child. Yes. Adis. I have no idea where he ended up or even if he kept the same name, but I’m sure Edward ensured he was cared for. Did you meet Edward?’
‘Once or twice. At Alec’s family gatherings. He seemed like a nice man. Mild and quiet compared to Molly.’
‘They do say that opposites attract. They were reputed to be the perfect team, though, professionally speaking. I understand they were also genuinely in love.’
‘Oh, I think that’s true, but what do you mean, professionally speaking and why was this child so important?’
Gregory considered for a moment and then responded to her second question. ‘Adis was the first of many,’ he said. ‘Mostly children, but Molly was a stickler for loyalty. She believed that if someone put their life on the line to help you, then you were obliged to do the same in return.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Naomi said. ‘What people?’
‘It’s complicated,’ Gregory told her. ‘This is a lovely place, don’t you think? Funny how full of life these cities of the dead can be.’
‘Necropolis,’ Naomi said. ‘I always did like the word. But you’re right; this place is filled with birds.’
‘And rabbits and foxes. I suppose being right in the middle of nowhere, like this—’
‘But you’re dodging my question. What kind of people? You can’t start on a story and then try and distract me.’
‘It’s more that I’m not much of a storyteller. I’m not sure where to begin, but I suppose the Adis incident is as good a place as any. That incident took place in 1961.’
‘The Belgian Congo.’
‘As it was, yes. As I told you before, there were many forces jockeying for position that summer and Edward was in the thick of it. You’ve got to remember, the UN was only about fifteen years old at that time. It was an organization still looking for its role in the world. Edward had acted as a liaison officer for the UN a couple of times before. I don’t know if you knew, but he spoke about a dozen languages, had grown up in Africa and understood the situation on the ground far better than most Europeans ever could.’
‘So … hadn’t the president been assassinated or something?’
‘The first elections had taken place, but there were so many conflicting interests moving in, all ready to stake their claim on the minerals, the resources … Anyway, Adis senior was a local interpreter, Edward had recruited him and the two of them had worked closely for, perhaps, six months. Then Adis was killed, violently killed. Molly witnessed his death. I understand, so did the boy. Edward and Molly fled and they took the boy with them. He had no close family and they knew, as the son of a collaborator who’d been killed for working with the wrong people, the kid’s life would not have been worth a damn.’
‘I’m not sure I understand,’ Naomi sa
id. ‘Surely, it was just a job.’
Gregory sighed, paused for a moment and then said. ‘OK, let’s turn it around, take a more extreme example. In the Second World War, in Vichy France, those who worked with the Nazis, even as interpreters, even if their lives were under threat if they did not, were at best shunned by many of their countrymen. At worst, some were tried for war crimes. Logic and quiet consideration of circumstance and consequence don’t happen when you’re stuck in a war zone. People react, people jump on whatever bandwagon happens to be passing, or they act according to what they genuinely believe is the justice of the moment.’
‘But the Nazis were different. That was—’
‘That was a time of crisis. Of invasion, of all out war. The disturbance in what had been the Belgian Congo might not have been on the same scale. It’s most famous victim might have been Dag Hammarskjöld, but tens of thousands died or were displaced, or were forced into actions that might have seemed inconceivable just a year or so before. The only real difference is that the invading forces were not cohesive; they were a mix of big corporations and political factions. Ours, the Americans, the Russians, factions native to the country and factions from outside. Not some easily identifiable, single force, like Nazi Germany. Those that suffer most in the aftermath of such a process are those that were seen to take sides, to get involved, and then get left behind when whatever force they backed or employer they worked for moves out and moves on. People like Adis.’
‘I heard something about the first Gulf War,’ Naomi said. ‘That there were journalists and interpreters who had helped the US forces. Or maybe not even helped them just did their job as interpreters or got involved in some way and they were executed. Is that true?’
‘It’s true of many places and many times. Naomi, you’ve probably seen film of when the US forces pulled out of Vietnam. The fall of Saigon. You’ve probably seen film of the evacuation of CIA personnel from the rooftop of the US Embassy. But how many civilian employees, friends, lovers, common law partners do you think got left behind?
Secrets Page 19
