LILY PEERED INTO THE DARKNESS ahead of them, though there wasn’t that much to see: just the bone-white surface of the narrow lane they were plodding along, which showed the tracks left by earlier walkers who had made the journey to and from Wickham Manor earlier in the day, Mr Madden among them, or so she assumed. He had turned up in Great Tew that afternoon, according to Bob Greaves, the chap who had lent her the wellington boots that were proving to be such a godsend.
Quite apart from the challenge this Gonzales fellow they were after might pose for them, there was another matter troubling Lily just then, one she wanted to consult both Madden and ex–chief inspector Sinclair on. It had come to light a short while ago when she and Hans Probst had taken their leave of Greaves and were on the point of setting off from the village. At that point the German policeman had put his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a pistol, a Luger of all things, at least as far as Lily could judge from the brief glimpse she had of it.
Before her astonished gaze—she’d been struck dumb by the sight—he had checked the weapon’s mechanism, pulling the breech back with an oiled click, making sure that it was in order, before replacing it in his pocket.
‘What’s that you got there?’ Lily had found her tongue. ‘You can’t go waving one of those around, not in this country.’ And then, as though her words needed further explanation: ‘We’re not allowed to carry arms, you know, the police I mean, not unless it’s authorised, and that doesn’t happen very often.’
‘I’m aware of that, Lily,’ Probst had replied in a soothing tone. ‘But we German police operate under different rules, and I thought it as well to bring my pistol along in case it’s needed.’
‘But . . . but you’re breaking the law . . .’ It was all Lily could think of to say. She knew that by rights she ought to arrest him, but she couldn’t do that. It would turn what was already a dicey enough expedition into something resembling a farce, and she could see herself ending up not simply getting her knuckles rapped for misuse of a police car but actually on a charge, though for what she wasn’t sure exactly, which was why she wanted urgently to seek the advice of two old coppers who, even if they were retired, were still held in high regard at the Yard and might come up with an answer to her dilemma.
‘Yes, yes, I quite understand and you can be sure I will throw myself on the mercy of the authorities when the time comes.’ He had patted her consolingly on the arm. ‘But we may find ourselves facing an extremely dangerous man and having dragged you into this business I would never forgive myself if I let you come to any harm. And now let us be going. There is no time to waste.’
Flummoxed—short of actually putting the cuffs on her companion there was nothing more she could think of doing, or saying—Lily had swallowed her objections, which in any case were too numerous to list, and followed him as he set off. But she hadn’t let the subject drop entirely.
‘Have you ever actually shot anyone?’ she asked as she trudged along in his footsteps.
‘Not to my knowledge.’ The reply was spoken breathlessly over his shoulder. The deep snow made for heavy going.
‘To your knowledge?’
‘I was a soldier in the war, Lily—not this one, the one before. We all had our rifles and we fired at the enemy and they fired at us. Who can say what we hit, if anything? In my case I hoped it was no one, and luckily for me, before I had time to turn into a battle-hardened veteran I was wounded, then captured, and finally spent the last two years of the war in a British prisoner-of-war camp.’
‘Did you really, sir?’ Lily was intrigued in spite of herself. ‘Where was that?’
‘Near the city of Carlisle—do you know it?’
‘Can’t say I do. That’s to say, I’ve never been there. What was it like? How did you spend the time?’
‘I learned English, since you ask, something I’ve never regretted. The language has been a great comfort to me over the years.’
Probst came to a halt. Lily stopped with him.
‘What is it, sir?’
‘I was wondering how much farther we had to go. That man we spoke to in the village said he thought the house was a mile away, did he not?’
‘A little more than that, closer to a mile and a half, he reckoned.’
‘Would you say we’d covered about a mile?’ Probst’s panting breaths were visible in the frosty air, as were Lily’s.
‘It’s hard to say, sir. It feels like more, but that’s because of the snow. It slows you down.’ Lily herself was glad of the chance to pause and catch her breath. The road they were following went up and down like a switchback, but mostly up, so that each time they got to the top of a rise they saw another rise ahead of them, just a bit higher. She’d kept hoping they would see the lights of the manor ahead, but thus far the darkness around them had been unbroken, apart from the moonlight, which was a help as far as it went.
‘We must keep going,’ Probst said.
Lily followed. They were at the bottom of yet another rise and as they reached the top Probst halted again.
‘What was that? Did you see it?’
Lily had caught a glimpse of the same flash of light some way ahead. One moment it had been there, the next gone.
‘It can’t be the house,’ she said.
They stood in silence gazing ahead. After a few moments the light flashed again, but only for a second or two and then vanished.
‘Could it be a car?’ Probst said. ‘If so, it seems to be coming our way.’