London Calling (17 page)

Major Haliday’s face blanched. “Now look here, who are you? And how did you find out?”

“You admit it’s true, then?”

“Seems there’s no use my telling you it’s not,” Major Haliday muttered. His voice was once more resentful, sullen. “And what do you intend to do about it? Turn me in as a traitor?”

James’s gaze rested on him a moment, and then he said, “Not immediately. First, I should like to know how you came to be involved in the scheme.”

Major Haliday hesitated a moment. Then: “Look here,” he said. His tone changed, and became faintly wheedling. He swayed forwards, putting a hand on James’s shoulder. “There’s money in this. A great deal of money. I could let you in on the business.”

“We’ll . . . ‌we will discuss that later,” James said. “For now, just tell me how you became involved.”

James really was very good at this, Susanna thought. His voice was hard, a little over-loud. The voice of a man struggling‌—‌for the moment successfully‌—‌with temptation. But with just enough uncertainty to give Major Haliday hope that he might yet bribe his way out of this.

Major Haliday said, his voice eager now, “It was a few months back. I was hard-up for money. Made one or two unlucky bets on the horses. Lost money at cards, that sort of thing. At any rate, I didn’t know what I was to do, and then, out of the blue, a letter arrived, asking whether I’d like to earn an easy fifty pounds. I was to leave a reply under a certain bench in Regent’s Park. Well, I jumped at the chance, I can tell you. I left a note saying I was ready for anything, and the next day a letter arrived by post, explaining what I was to do.”

Major Haliday ran a hand across his face. His voice was clearer, now; apparently the shock of all this had sobered him. “It was a simple enough business. Nothing to it, really. The author of the notes said he’d got information to sell, and couldn’t do it himself. He enclosed a packet of documents‌—‌some military memorandums and such‌—‌and said I was to take them round to the French embassy and offer them for sale.”

“Go on,” James said.

“Well, the long and the short of it was that we fixed up an arrangement. I dropped the documents off at various places around the city. Sometimes in a park, in a shop. The Blue Fountain was used fairly often. I’d be given money in exchange for the information, and then I’d leave a share of it under that same bench in Regent’s Park. And then, after a bit, there’d be a new set of papers for me to pass on.”

“I see.” James was silent a moment. Then: “You referred to your informant as ‘he’ just now. You know it’s a man, then?”

“Well.” Major Haliday sounded a little taken aback by the question. “Well, now, I suppose not. But it must be, mustn’t it? I mean, what woman is going to carry out a scheme like that?”

James didn’t reply at once. Then: “And did you never try to learn who your informant was? You never waited to watch the bench in the park, for instance?”

“Well . . .” Major Haliday paused, and then evidently made up his mind. “Well, yes I did, in fact. After I’d left the money once I waited about. Hid behind a tree and watched the bench. Didn’t see anything, though. No one came.”

“No one?”

“Well, no one of any interest. Couple of old ladies in shawls. Couple of nurses with kids. A pair of silly, giggling girls. No one important. Queer thing, though. When I went back to look, the packet I’d left the money in had gone.”

“I see.”

James was silent, and after a time the Major said, his voice once again confident, blustering, “Now, look here. What do you intend to do about this? I’ve been honest. I’ve told you the truth. And as I say, there’s a fortune to be made in all this. If you’re willing to keep silent, I’d be willing to cut you in on a share of the profits.”

James ignored that. “Tell me, when was the last message you received?”

“The packet I took to the Blue Fountain was the last. I usually get a message by post, saying that there’s a packet in Regent’s Park to be picked up. Then I know to get it and make the usual arrangements.”

“And when do you expect the next message?”

Major Haliday shrugged. “No knowing. May not be for weeks yet. Sometimes a whole month goes by without anything.”

James regarded him a long moment in silence. Then he said, his voice curt, “Very well. You can go.”

“I can go?” Major Haliday sounded both incredulous and relieved. “You mean that is all?”

“For now. Now get back‌—‌go back to your party before you’re missed.”

“And you . . . ‌do you intend . . . ‌that is, do you want a share of the money?” the Major stammered.

“No. You can keep your business and”‌—‌a faintly derisive note crept into James voice‌—‌“your profits. For the present, at least. Now, get out of here.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Major Haliday stumbled away, footsteps quickening until he was almost running. Susanna waited until he’d gone from sight around a bend in the path, then stepped out of concealment.

James looked up at her approach, and she sensed his alertness, the sudden tension of his muscles. Though he relaxed as he recognized her.

“There you are. I might have known you would want to listen in.”

“You let him go,” Susanna said.

James rubbed a hand along the line of his jaw. He looked suddenly weary, Susanna thought. “Yes, I let him go‌—‌I had to. He’s part of this. But he’s only the messenger. If we are to stop the leaks of information, we need to catch whoever passes him the confidential papers. Arrest Haliday, and we’ve know way of getting to him‌—‌or her.”

“You still think it is Mrs. Careme?”

James lifted his shoulders. “We know it must be one of Admiral Tremain’s household. And she has access to all the Admiral’s things. And according to Major Haliday, this business only started up a few months ago, remember? That must be about the time Mrs. Careme moved into the Admiral’s house. But we still need proof.”

“That is where I come in,” Susanna said. “James, I’m staying in the same house. And Mrs. Careme often goes out for a drive in the afternoons. Tomorrow, while she’s gone, I could search her room. I might be able to find something‌—‌something incriminating.”

James was silent, his face unreadable. “What if she came back and caught you?”

“Then I would think of some excuse. James, it’s the only way. You must see that.”

James was silent a long while. Then: “Very well.” He smiled, a little grimly. “At least Mrs. Careme isn’t likely to try to kiss you.”

Susanna laughed. “You saw the Major’s advances?”

“I saw.” James’s voice was still grim. “And at some future date, when this is all over, I plan on kicking the good Major down a flight or two of stairs before I turn him over to the War Office.”

“What an appealing idea.” Susanna laced her fingers through James’s. Then she said, “James, if I do find anything tomorrow, how will I get in touch with you?”

“We’d best fix up a place to meet. What are your plans for tomorrow evening?”

“Tomorrow? I think there was some talk of going to the opera. Admiral Tremain managed to get a box for all of us.”

“The opera? At Covent Garden? I see. Well, that makes it easier. I shall be there‌—‌as Jacques de Castres, of course. I ought to be able to arrange a meeting. And now, you had best be getting back to the rest of your party.”

“Yes. Yes, I’d better go.” Susanna hesitated, then said, “James, I did get your message this afternoon. But you never said‌—‌that man with the knife‌—‌whoever he was‌—‌did he come back?”

“No. Or if he did, he did not find me. I did just as I told you‌—‌went back to the house only long enough to collect some clothes and all the money I could lay hand on, and went to earth in a seedy little boarding house near the docks in the East End. I’ve got quite a cozy little room. Just me and about a dozen assorted mice, rats, and quite a family of cockroaches. The one whose portrait I took was just a representative sample.”

Susanna couldn’t quite make herself smile, though. “But those men. Philippe, and all the rest of them. They will be looking for you, will they not? And if they tried to kill you once, they may try again.”

She felt the muscles of James’s arms harden, but he said only, “I’ll have to make sure they don’t find me, that is all. Now, kiss me goodnight and get along back before someone notices you’re gone.”

#

The warmth of James’s kiss was still on her lips, but Susanna shivered as she hurried back along the darkened path. The night air was spicy with the scent of the trees around her, and from up ahead she could hear the gasps and exclamations of delight from the crowd as the fireworks show concluded. As she watched, the night sky was illumined with a gigantic pinwheel of showering gold sparks, then a sunburst of green, followed by another explosion of red that seemed to absorb the attention of everyone but Susanna.

Reaching the end of the path, Susanna skirted round the crowd, scanning the sea of faces for ones she knew. At length she was able to slip in beside her Aunt Ruth.

Ruth looked up sharply as she took her place and raised her eyebrows inquiringly. Susanna had time for a brief nod, and then the fireworks concluded, and any words she might have spoken were drowned out in a burst of applause and a clamor of cheers.

When the clapping had died down, Admiral Tremain looked round.

“Ah, Miss Ward. You decided to join us after all. I hope you enjoyed the show?”

Susanna drew in her breath and managed to reply suitably‌—‌and steadily‌—‌first to Admiral Tremain and then to Miss Fanny, who was voluble in her descriptions of what her fears for Susanna had been.

“Abroad in the Gardens, quite on your own. I was terrified something would happen to you.”

Marianne had already rejoined the group. Her cheeks were still flushed, though, and a faint, inward smile curved her lips. She was, perhaps, the only happy member of the party.

Major Haliday gave Susanna one swift glance and then after that avoided looking in her direction at all. Though to judge from his furrowed brow and a worried look, he was brooding more over the meeting with James than Susanna’s rejection of his advances.

Mrs. Careme, too, looked abstracted. Her lovely face was drawn, and there were faint lines of weariness about the corners of her mouth and shadows about the slanting green eyes. Her gaze strayed frequently to Major Haliday, and once or twice a shadow seemed to darken her face.

Watching Mrs. Careme, Susanna tried to guess at her thoughts, and could not. Did she suspect Major Haliday’s secret had been discovered? Susanna saw the other woman’s face harden, and she shivered again. Mrs. Careme, for all her charm, would be a pitiless foe to encounter. When she thought of the search she must make tomorrow of Mrs. Careme’s room, a lump of ice seemed to settle in the pit of her stomach. But James had been willing to rely on her‌—‌she would not let him down. Tomorrow, come what would, she would find proof of Mrs. Careme’s guilt.

Chapter 18

After the halcyon weather of the last few days, the next morning dawned grey and cloudy, with the threat of rain in the low, sullen clouds that seemed to hover just over the rooftops. Susanna, looking out her window, felt a pang of doubt. Suppose Mrs. Careme didn’t go out driving today?

But evidently Mrs. Careme decided to brave the weather, for the next moment, Susanna saw her emerging from the front door, dressed in an emerald green riding habit with gold frogging on the collar and shoulders. A servant held her horse‌—‌a handsome dappled bay‌—‌in readiness, and Mrs. Careme mounted and trotted off, the servant on his own mount trotting behind.

Swiftly, Susanna crossed to the door‌—‌and then stopped short as Marianne entered the room without knocking, face flushed, her manner distracted.

She said, speaking jerkily and without preamble, “Hawberry has just brought me word that Mr. Foster is here! He is in the morning room now. I do not know what to do.”

Susanna managed‌—‌just‌—‌to contain her raging impatience. “Do? You should go down and talk to him, of course. That’s presumably why he’s come to call‌—‌because he wants to see you.”

Marianne’s eyes were fixed on the floor and her shoulders hunched. “I cannot.” Her voice was sullen. “I would not know what to say. What would we find to talk about?”

“Well, what did you talk about last night?”

“That was different.” Marianne’s look was a mixture of despair and defiance. “If I go down now, I will be unable to think of a thing to say, and that will make me feel self-conscious. And then I will be rude and drive him away, even if I do not mean to.”

“Well, you cannot just leave him sitting in the morning room all day,” Susanna said. “Who is with him now?”

“No one. Father and Mrs. Careme have both gone out, and Aunt Fanny’s still in her room. But I told you—”

Susanna cut her off. She had no idea how long Mrs. Careme might be gone‌—‌she ought to be hurrying Marianne out of here as fast as possible. But sympathy for the other girl made her say, “You can go down and you will be perfectly charming. But wait, just let me tidy you up a bit, first.”

Marianne’s hair was set in its usual untidy fringe, and she wore one of her old gowns of dingy grey. Susanna pushed her into a chair, and, in a few swift movements, had brushed the fair hair sleekly back and secured it into a knot at the nape of Marianne’s neck. She took a pale blue shawl from her dressing table, and handed it to the other girl.

“Here, put this on.” She helped settle the shawl around Marianne’s shoulders, then stood back to survey the effect.

“Will I do?” Marianne looked all at once more uncertain than surly.

“You look just lovely,” Susanna said. “Now, go on down to the morning room and be as delightful a companion as Mr. Foster obviously thinks you are.”

Marianne looked slightly dazed, but she did move to obey. Susanna heard her going down the stairs‌—‌and as soon as the sound of her footfalls died away, Susanna slipped out of her room and into the hall, pausing to listen intently.

The house was still, save for the faint murmur of voices in the morning room below. Susanna sped along the passage to Mrs. Careme’s door and stopped outside. Mrs. Careme had gone out‌—‌but her lady’s maid might still be inside, tidying or seeing to her mistress’s clothes.