THE ORDERLY AT HIS HEELS, TYLER HURRIED OUT TO the front entrance to look for Constable Mortimer. She’d know where this church was if anybody would. She was standing at the west gate chatting with Constable Mady. Tyler gave them a quick précis of Hughes’s sordid story.
“Do you know what church this might be? Old. Small. Norman probably.”
“Yes, sir, I believe I do,” answered Mortimer. “It has to be St. Clement’s. I attended services there when I was a child, but it’s hardly used at all these days.”
“I think Shirley got into a boat. There were gouge marks on the bank at the end of the footpath. Is it possible to access the church by way of the river?”
“People did sometimes come in by boat when the road was impassable. There’s a private dock for that purpose.”
Before Tyler could proceed further, Sister Rebecca came out of the house.
“A Mr. Grey is on the telephone, Inspector. He says you have been trying to reach him.”
“Damnation. Please tell him to hold on. I’ll be right there.” Tyler turned to the constables. “I’ve got to talk to this bloke. It’s urgent. Mortimer, I want you and Mady to proceed to the church. Use the motorcycle. For God’s sake, be careful. For now, I just want to know what’s going on. Don’t take any action unless you consider it a matter of life or death. Understood?”
They both stared at him with round eyes. “Yes, sir,” said Constable Mortimer.
“As soon as I’ve taken this call, I’ll follow. Constable Mortimer, give me directions.”
“The church is about a quarter of a mile west of here. Go across Dinham Bridge and follow the road that runs beside the river on the castle side. You’ll pass a red barn, and about a hundred yards farther on, you’ll see a lane veering off to the right. There’s an old faded signpost that says, Church Lane. You can just make it out. The lane bends twice. You’ll see the church on your left as soon as you take the second bend. It’s in a little dip surrounded by a copse of trees; there’s a gravel lane leading up to it.”
Tyler turned to the orderly. “Does that sound familiar, Hughes?”
“Yes, sir. I do remember the river and the little lane. It was bumpy.”
“Okay. Get back to the patients. I’m sure you’re needed. Keep your mouth closed. I don’t want anybody told anything at this point. Understood?”
Hughes’s face was utterly miserable.
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
Tyler turned to the two constables. “Okay, go! When you get there, keep out of sight. This is strictly a scouting mission. Got that?”
“Yes, sir,” said Mortimer. “I should say, however, that the church stands in the middle of a clearing, and it might be a problem to approach without being seen.”
“Suggestions?”
“It will be best to park at the bottom of the lane and walk up.”
“Okay. Do that.”
She set off towards the motorcycle with Mady trotting at her side. Tyler called after them, “Be careful.”
He hurried to the office, Sister Rebecca behind him.
“Sister, I’ll need to commandeer your car,” he said over his shoulder.
“Of course. I’ll bring you the key.”
She’d rested the receiver on the desk and he picked it up.
“Hello, Tyler here.”
Grey’s familiar mumble greeted him.
“Tyler? ’Bout to hang up.”
“Sorry, sir. I was outside.”
“Yes, well, I apologize that I wasn’t available when you rang before. Business in London, don’t you know. Most disagreeable.”
He didn’t elaborate as to whether it was London or the business that was the problem and Tyler had to bite his lip not to burst out impatiently. Grey continued.
“You asked my assistant, Nesbitt, about the special training unit that is up in Scotland. You said you wanted names of the men who were based there since December last.”
“That’s right, sir. There definitely seems to be a connection with the commando unit in Ariscraig and my case.”
“Does there, indeed? Well, I followed up as best I could, but they’re a closed-mouthed bunch at the War Office.” Tyler heard him drawing on his ubiquitous pipe. “The first two chaps I got refused to open up until they’d consulted with another higher-up muckety-muck. Good thing probably, these days, but it can be aggravating. When I emphasized blind man, child, and nun, all killed, they got a move on. Finally I was connected with a chap by the name of Hubbins. Turns out we knew each other at Oxford, so I got clearance and we didn’t have to go through tiresome identity checks. I said I was trying to track down a commando, first name possibly Rudy, who had gone overseas in December on a special mission. He was a foreigner, but I didn’t know what sort. With me so far, Tyler?”
“Yes, sir. With you.” And for God’s sake, hurry up.
“I know I’m rambling, but I want you to get the whole story.”
“Yes, sir. The rigmarole in high places is always fascinating.”
“Don’t get sarcastic with me, Tyler, I’m not in the mood. I’m surprised I got that much information, with Göring’s boys interrupting us constantly.”
“Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to sound sarcastic. It’s just that I’m very concerned about the whereabouts of a young girl from here. She’s the daughter of the murdered man and she’s about to give birth. I think she’s been lured away.”
“Good Lord. I’ll get to the point then.”
“Thank you, sir. That would be helpful.”
“Tyler! Well, anyway, Hubbie was as helpful as he was able. There was a special mission into occupied Europe right around the time you mentioned. Codename Operation Anthropoid. Where they come up with these names, beats me. Anyway, a handful of commandos were sent over, all trained at Ariscraig. They were Czech, and part of the manifest was to show Mr. Churchill the Czechs were onside and not eating out of Herr Heydrich’s paw. They were parachuted into Moravia in December for the express purpose of assassinating the blond butcher himself.”
It was Tyler’s turn to draw in his breath. “Bloody hell. They succeeded. Big brouhaha in Nazi circles. Heydrich was buried with hero’s honours and all that.”
“That’s right. Herr Hitler was most ticked off and ordered severe reprisals. As is his wont. Apparently, the Gestapo thought they had tracked down the assassins’ collaborators. Wrongly as it turned out, but they’re never too fussy about evidence. They descended on a nearby village and ordered every male over the age of sixteen to be shot.”
This had to be the incident the letters referred to. The villagers being stood against a wall and shot. The devil referred to in the second letter, the one whose death might be worse than his reign, must be Heydrich.
Tyler gritted his teeth, waiting for Grey to go on. He was not a man to be rushed.
“After this bit of brutality, the local police, who were helping out, loaded the remaining women and children into lorries and took them off. The story we’ve got from one of our operatives in Prague is that the mothers and children were separated.” Grey paused to draw on his pipe. “Very nasty business, Tyler. Very nasty. According to our source, all but four of the children were gassed.”
“My God.”
“Quite so. The four who were spared, presumably because they have an Aryan appearance, have been taken to the Fatherland for Germanization.”
“And the mothers?”
“They have been sent to concentration camps; the Nazis’ idea of inflicting a slow, miserable death on innocents.” Grey paused again. “There were some pregnant women in the village and they were taken off to Prague. We don’t have the complete story yet, but rumour has it that the newborns have also been removed, probably to Germany as well.”
Letter number three.
Tyler rubbed his head hard. He felt icy cold.
“I read that the commandos were caught.”
“Oh, yes. They were tracked down to a church where they’d taken up hiding. They held out, but eventually they were all killed. Brave men, Tyler. Worst thing is, they might have escaped, but they were betrayed by one of their own. Turned in by a commando who was on the mission.”
Tyler bit his lips, holding back his impatience. “Do we know who it was?”
“We do. The traitor was a chap called Rudy. Rudy Pesek. There was only one man named Rudy who went on that mission. I’d say it’s the man you’re looking for.”
Tyler whistled. This was an unexpected turn of events. “Could he be back in England?”
“No. He’s received a handsome reward and is being feted by the Nazis.”
“And all the other commandos died?”
“Those who went over with the operation did. However, given the situation you’re dealing with, Tyler, I thought I should follow up on any man who was connected with Operation Anthropoid, no matter how peripherally.”
Thank you, Mr. Grey. You hold the position you do for good reason.
“Hubbie did a check for me,” continued Grey. “There was another fellow who went through the training with the group, but at the last minute he didn’t go on the mission. He was injured.”
Tyler could hear Grey tapping the pipe bowl on his desk following a bout of coughing.
“Did you get the name of this particular bloke?”
“Well now, and here’s the disagreeable side of my trip that I mentioned earlier. Hubbie and I had barely concluded our conversation when we were interrupted by an air raid warning. He had to get off the telephone. And I had a train to catch, which was itself delayed for an hour.”
Suddenly, Grey’s voice faded away completely.
The telephone had gone dead.
Tyler bellowed into the receiver. “Sir? Mr. Grey?”
Damn. He jiggled on the cradle and abruptly Grey’s voice came back on.
“Tyler. Sorry about the damn telephone. There’s a loose wire somewhere. Anyway, as I was saying, the chappie who didn’t go on the mission ended up in East Grinstead with serious injuries. Got treated there but apparently he healed fast and recently he asked to be transferred to, guess where?”
“St. Anne’s?”
“Bang on, Tyler! Said he had a girlfriend who lived in the area. He was released just over three weeks ago.”
“What’s his name? Do you know what his injuries were?”
The line went dead. Tyler jiggled the cradle desperately but with no luck. He slammed down the receiver and raced out.