Peace Comes to Honeyfield

by Anna Jacobs

  He would mind, Tez thought ruefully as he hung the phone up. He hated to be dirty in any way. But this was definitely in a good cause, so he’d put up with it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In London, Captain Jordan decided to pretend that the injury to his arm was much worse than it really was in order to do some scouting round. He telephoned the bureau and left a message for Major Butterly, who was in charge of day-to-day administration among other duties, saying he wouldn’t be able to come in for a few days due to an injury.

  To his surprise, he got a phone call back almost immediately, and from the major in person, insisting he couldn’t be spared and telling him to damned well pull himself together.

  That was … strange.

  He didn’t intend to comply, however, so went back to see the military doctor who’d dealt with his wound, a man he knew from school and university, and trusted absolutely.

  His friend listened carefully. ‘I know where you’re working, Ralph, and how important it is. What do you want me to say in the note?’

  ‘That on no account must I use that arm and risk infection or I might lose it. It should advise me to go and convalesce in the country.’

  ‘This job you’re doing must be very important?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Crucial. Why do you think someone attacked me in the first place? The outright war is over, but we’re now facing some serious jockeying for power. Between you and me, they think it’s that group who call themselves Siebenzeit.’

  His friend let out a soft whistle of surprise. ‘You’d think even they would acknowledge defeat, as Germany itself has done.’ He sat down, took out his fountain pen and wrote a medical certificate on headed official notepaper.

  Jordan sent his note to the bureau by messenger and didn’t wait for an answer, but went round to Mr Cotterell’s house to speak to Mathers.

  ‘You work closely with your master, so you must have some idea of where I can look for Miss Cotterell.’

  Mathers stiffened and gave him a suspicious look. ‘No one has informed me of her whereabouts, sir – why would they? – so I’m afraid I can’t help you.’

  ‘Look, this is extremely important, a matter of life or death, and her father isn’t around to look after her. You must be able to make a reasonably accurate guess, given how long you’ve worked for Cotterell.’

  ‘No, sir. I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘Have you been into the bureau since Mr Cotterell vanished?’

  ‘Why would I, sir? My employment was directly with him and my visits there were only to assist him or drive him somewhere if the official chauffeur wasn’t available or else he wanted to use another car.’

  Silence fell, but Jordan wasn’t satisfied. ‘Whatever you say, I’m still certain you have an idea of some possible places to look for her.’

  Mathers shook his head, his face quite expressionless. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t take it upon myself to guess, let alone share those thoughts with anyone.’

  ‘Hell fire, man! How many times do I have to tell you that Miss Cotterell is in very real and present danger.’ He saw the door handle turn slightly. Someone must be standing outside in the hall. Were they going to come in? But the handle turned noiselessly back into place again and he didn’t think Mathers could have noticed anything, because his back was to that door.

  He raised his voice a little as he added, ‘Do you want someone to kill Georgie Cotterell?’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll have found somewhere safe to hide, sir. She’s not a stupid young lady. Now, I must get on with my work. Allow me to show you out.’

  ‘I can show myself out, thank you very much.’

  Mathers sighed and as they both left the room, he frowned at Jordan and ran lightly down towards the basement kitchen, leaving the visitor to use the front door. He paused at the bottom to make sure the door was opened, nodding in satisfaction at the sound of it opening and closing.

  Jordan didn’t leave the house, however. After closing the door again, he slipped into the room across the hall and left its door partly open. Through the narrow gap he watched Mathers come up to the ground floor from the basement, lock the bolts on the front door, then carry on up the stairs to the first floor.

  When he heard the sound of a door shutting upstairs, Jordan crept across the hall and down to the basement. He found Nora standing near the kitchen window, arms clasped around herself, looking upset, so cleared his throat to alert her to his presence.

  She spun round. ‘Ooh, sir, you did give me a shock! I thought you’d left.’

  ‘Not yet. Look, I think you overheard what I was saying to Mathers a few moments ago so I wanted to speak to you as well. Do you have any idea where Miss Cotterell might be?’

  She hesitated.

  ‘Please! It’s vital that we find her. She’s in terrible danger. These people won’t hesitate to kill her. Just like that.’ He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point.

  Nora pressed one hand across her mouth, then pulled it away again and said in a rush, ‘I reckon she’ll be at Honeyfield, sir. Either at the big house or at Pear Tree Cottage in the village. But please don’t let anyone know I told you.’

  ‘I won’t. Thank you. You may just have saved her life.’

  ‘Does Mathers know you’re still here, sir?’

  ‘No. He thinks I left.’

  ‘Then I’d better let you out the back way, sir.’

  When she returned to the kitchen from the mews behind the house, Nora found Mathers waiting for her, arms folded, expression furious.

  ‘I saw who you let out and I know what Jordan wanted to find out. What did you tell him?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, Nora.’

  ‘I couldn’t not tell him, Mr Mathers. He said Miss Georgie’s life was in danger and he is working at the bureau, after all.’

  ‘So is a traitor. Why do you think Mr Cotterell himself went into hiding? What if the traitor is Jordan?’

  Her mouth fell open and she stared at him in horror.

  ‘Miss Georgie may be in even greater trouble now, so you’d better tell me exactly what you revealed!’

  She told him, then burst into loud, noisy tears after she’d finished her tale.

  She couldn’t believe it when Mathers walked out of the kitchen without another word.

  ‘What have I done?’ she whispered and began crying again. ‘Oh, Miss Georgie, what have I done?’

  For once, Mathers made no attempt to comfort Nora. He was too angry with her. He went to his master’s study, unhooked the telephone earpiece and waited for the operator to respond. He asked her for the special number he was only allowed to use in emergencies.

  When he heard someone clearing their throat at the other end, he gave a little cough, the pre-arranged password, and said, ‘Something’s come up. I need to speak to you know who and it’s urgent.’

  He waited impatiently while his employer was fetched to the phone.

  A voice he recognised at once spoke suddenly. ‘It had better be important.’

  ‘It is, sir.’ Mathers went through what had happened and waited as silence greeted the information.

  ‘You were right to contact me. We’ll have to speed things up. I’m just getting proof of the main person involved, because he’s too well connected in the upper levels of society to be accused otherwise. If I do this carefully, we can act at once. What worries me most is whether your recent visitor is also involved. I haven’t been able to confirm J’s role either way yet, not to my own satisfaction, anyway, though I think he’s all right, just rather tactless. Sadly, the country’s needs must come first if …’

  His voice trailed away but they both knew what he meant.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ If the worst came to the worst, his master would sacrifice Georgie’s life to his country’s needs.

  ‘Get the car ready for action and pick me up here, at the side entrance, tomorrow afternoon. Bring all the guns from my special cabinet with you.’<
br />
  ‘What shall I do about Nora?’

  ‘She can stay there tonight with you. You’ll be quite safe because I’ll arrange for a guard to be posted both front and back. Tomorrow you can leave her here when you pick me up.’

  Mathers was startled. ‘What about after we leave? This place will be totally unprotected, sir?’

  ‘Not quite. That will be taken care of. We may even trap one or two minor fish in our net there.’

  Mathers knew he’d get nothing further out of his master unless and until he needed to know so asked simply, ‘Is that all, sir?’

  ‘Hmm. Oh yes. I was just starting to think over the details for speeding up the next stage. Be careful tonight, but you ought to be all right.’

  The phone line went dead. Mathers sighed. Mr Cotterell could be very frustrating to work for, given the way he rarely confided in anyone. On the other hand, it felt good to serve your king and country, even if what you did would never be publicly acknowledged. He was very proud of playing his part.

  At least this matter was in the best possible hands. Mathers was very fond of Miss Georgie. If anyone could keep her safe, it was her father.

  And if anyone did hurt her, he would be as keen as her father to make them sorry. By hell he would! He had grown very fond of that young woman in the two years she’d been living with them.

  He went to find Nora, who looked at him apprehensively.

  ‘Mr Cotterell has need of me tomorrow.’

  Her voice wobbled. ‘Will I be left here on my own?’

  ‘No. We’ve found you a place of safety.’

  ‘Thank goodness!’

  ‘People will be on guard outside this house tonight, too, but just in case anyone gets past them, I suggest you and I sleep in the same bedroom. The guest room with twin beds next to the master’s would be the most suitable, I think.’

  She flushed.

  ‘You will have a separate bed, woman, and I for one will not be getting undressed.’

  She relaxed a little. ‘Then I won’t, either. Sorry. I’m being silly. It’s all getting me down, especially the worry about Miss Georgie.’

  He hated to see her looking so subdued and fearful, and was glad she’d be out of this whole messy business from now on. She was a very capable housekeeper, could turn her hand to almost any job indoors, but she was too fond of Miss Georgie to think clearly about this problem. Look at what had happened today!

  ‘I don’t think Captain Jordan is a bad ’un, Mr Mathers, I really don’t,’ she volunteered suddenly.

  ‘I don’t think so, either, but one can’t always tell. Even the master isn’t sure about him.’

  From Mr Cotterell’s house Jordan went straight to a place where he could occasionally take refuge or change clothes if necessary. The room was in a sleazy area and had been rented for him by the bureau. He intended to pack an overnight bag and leave London within the hour.

  As usual he paused at the corner to look along the street before he went any further, and what he saw made him step hastily back against the wall, sucking in his breath in shock.

  He hadn’t left his bedroom curtains like that last time he was here! He always placed one curtain in a certain position when he left – always! It moved to a very different position if anyone touched it or even just brushed against it accidentally. He’d been told the trick by an old colleague years ago.

  Its position today showed clearly that someone had been in his room, might even still be there. Only one person at the office could have got hold of the information about this bedsitter, which settled his worries about whether to act independently today or not.

  He went into the newsagent’s on the corner, relieved to find no other customers there. ‘Can I use your special rear entrance, Burtill?’ He slapped a half-crown down on the counter, the price agreed.

  ‘Yes, sir. You know the way.’ The coin vanished quickly into the shopkeeper’s hand even as he lifted the end of the counter. He set it back into place immediately the captain had passed through.

  When two men burst into the shop a couple of minutes later, Burtill gaped at them, not needing to pretend to be startled, they looked so fierce. They weren’t from round here, that was sure.

  ‘Where did he go?’ one of them asked sharply.

  ‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

  ‘The man who just came in – where did he go?’

  ‘He went out of the side door, sir.’ He pointed to a door to one side of the counter. The shop was on a corner and he liked to catch potential customers going both ways. The third door, accessed from behind the counter, led into the rear and out into the back alley, but they wouldn’t know about that.

  The men strode through the shop without a word of apology, slamming the side door open and leaving it banging to and fro.

  Burtill didn’t even try to close it but retreated hastily to his living room, where he locked the solid wooden door between it and the shop. He half-expected them to try to kick it in when they didn’t see any sign of his recent visitor, but they’d have difficulty doing that quickly. It was a very solid door, chosen on purpose.

  Picking up the earpiece of the phone, an extravagance that had paid off a couple of times already, he telephoned the man to whom he paid regular protection money, getting through straight away.

  ‘Burtill here. There’s trouble from two men I don’t recognise. Can you come round straight away, Andrew? And better bring a gun. I think they were carrying weapons from the way their jacket pockets bulged.’

  ‘On my way.’

  When the two men returned to the shop a few minutes later after a fruitless search of nearby streets for Captain Jordan, they found a burly man standing behind the counter.

  ‘Where is he?’ the taller man snapped.

  ‘Who, sir?’

  ‘The shopkeeper.’

  ‘I’m the shopkeeper, sir. Oh, you mean my friend. He was just minding the shop while I nipped out for a snack. What would you like: cigarettes, pipe tobacco, matches?’

  As they hesitated, exchanging quick glances, one of them moved a hand towards his pocket, trying not to show what he was doing. The man behind the counter had his own gun out before the other could complete the move, pointing it at them.

  ‘Keep your hands away from your pockets. Bit rough, this area, so I’ve learnt how to protect myself. We don’t welcome outsiders causing trouble here, so I think you’d better leave my shop. And don’t come back to this district, either, if you know what’s good for you. I never forget a face and I have some good friends round here.’

  They looked astounded at this curt ultimatum.

  He watched them hesitate, look at the gun he was pointing steadily at them, then leave without a further word.

  When they’d gone down the street, he called in a low voice, without turning, ‘I think I’d better stay here with you for a while, Burtill. You were right. Nasty-looking types, those, and definitely not from round here. They’d better not try to poach on my employer’s territory. Powerful man in this district, Mr G, and doesn’t like others intruding.’

  ‘I was never so glad to see anyone as when you arrived. Thanks, Andrew.’

  ‘That’s what you pay protection money for. Don’t say you didn’t get your money’s worth today.’

  ‘I got excellent value today, Andrew. I’m grateful.’

  ‘I’ll stay on here for a while, just to make sure. You wait in the back. I can serve any customers who come in.’

  The shopkeeper let out a huge sigh of relief and stayed where he was. The takings in this shop were good, but at times the area round it could get a bit … difficult … well, let’s face it, downright rough.

  He hoped Mr Jordan had got clean away. Always polite, that gentleman was, and bought cigarettes here regularly.

  The neighbour who owned the house along the street said he was a good tenant. Only used the room now and then, kept it clean and paid his rent on time. What more could you ask?

  Burtill wished he had a tenant like
that in his own upstairs room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tez let Cole into the garden through the secret back door of the summer house for a moment but didn’t lock the gate. ‘I thought we’d go through the orchard. That way, perhaps?’ He pointed in the opposite direction to the way Cole had come. It would be easy to slip unseen along the rear wall of the neighbouring orchard, even now when the branches were bare of leaves, because it was about six foot high.

  ‘Fine by me. But I think it’d be better if you changed into these first, Mr Tesworth. Your clothes are too clean for a poacher, and they’re gentleman’s things, anyone can see that at a glance.’

  Tez shuddered at the smell of the bundle that was thrust into his hands and made one last protest. ‘But if we stay in the shadows no one will see me that clearly.’

  ‘They might see enough to make them suspicious if it was them villains looking at who’s out and about. Please, sir. Just to be safe.’

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Tez took off his outer garments and put on the borrowed ones – baggy clothes with large inside pockets to contain small game like rabbits. The smell of sweat and dried blood made him gag.

  Hoping he now looked like a poacher, he followed Cole out into the orchard again and in the opposite direction to Honeyfield House, locking the gate to his own garden carefully behind them.

  When they got to the lane, they clambered over the low gate and started on a circuit of the outer parts of the village. At first they saw nothing but dark cottages presumably full of sleeping people.

  Then Tez’s hunch about needing someone more used to the country at night to help him track down the intruders paid off, because it was Cole who spotted a very faint light flickering in an abandoned labourer’s cottage on the far side of a field. Tez had barely glanced at the cottage, knowing it to be a near ruin.