Chapter Eleven

After work, as we waited to go out the gate, Rosalie and I told Marianne that we were going to the train station and would come back by foot and to please have Betty save our dinners for us. She agreed, waving to us from the bus before the other women drove off to Bloomington Grove.

Since we were moving toward the shortest day of the year, it was already fully dark when we left BP to walk to the station. With the blackout, it was completely dark, forcing us to watch our footing both to the ticket booth and then as we started our return journey past BP through the countryside back toward our living quarters.

I could make out the tops of the bare trees against the night sky over BP and the outline of buildings, amazed at how bright the stars were compared to in London before the blackout began. Still, I knew we’d have to guess where the edges of the lanes were and avoid the holes in the road by luck and memory.

We had just reached the entrance to BP when a figure stepped out of the darkness into our path.

I jumped a foot.

“There’s a couple of us who need a ride back to Little Rowanwood. Do you want to ride along?” Simon Townsend’s voice asked.

“Yes,” Rosalie said. “Is there room?”

“We’ll make room.”

“I didn’t realize people were working late tonight,” I said, still unsure about Simon’s purpose there since I’d seen him go into the admiral’s office after me. My heartbeat was now slowing down to normal. “Was it helpful?”

“It’s all helpful,” he told me.

Realizing I sounded as if I were prying, I changed the topic. “It’s really cold out tonight. Windy. Thank you for offering to let us join you.”

“And you’re afraid of the killer loose in the parish,” Simon said. I thought I noted a bit of sarcasm in his tone.

“I am. I think it’s creepy that someone killed Sarah Wycott after she headed back to our living quarters at this time of day. And the police can’t figure out who did it.” I tried to sound worried without sounding hysterical. I’m not sure I succeeded.

“We’ll get you back safely,” Simon said.

We waited for a few minutes, stomping our feet and hugging ourselves, until an estate car showed up. We climbed in and while Simon told the driver we were waiting on two more, I noticed she was the same FANY driver I’d had on Sunday.

Soon George and Peter showed up and we took off for the village of Little Rowanwood. We chatted about the weather on the short ride to the Wren and Dragon, where all three men climbed out. We shouted farewell as the driver took off for our usual stop.

Once we were dropped off, Rosalie started a quick pace along the dark lane and then up the slope of the drive, too fast to carry on a conversation in the cold and wind, and I hurried to keep up. Helen answered the door to our ring and said, “Come in quickly out of that wind. Brr.” She slammed the door behind us.

Maryellen called out from the kitchen, “I’ll put your dinners on the table. Go hang up your coats and get in here.” Behind her, I could hear a piece of ecclesiastical music playing on the radio.

Our quarters were feeling cozy that night with the knowledge that the unseasonably cold weather was kept out behind closed doors and blackout curtains. I went in my room long enough to throw my coat on my bed and hurried back to sit down to my dinner. I tried to wait for Rosalie, but after a minute or two, I gave up and began to eat.

I was halfway done when Rosalie sat down across from me at one end of the table, the knitters clustered at the other end. “I hope you don’t mind that I started already.”

“Not at all. You want to eat while dinner’s still warm.”

“Without a word of thanksgiving,” Aileen said, never missing a stitch while she criticized me.

“I said it silently,” I replied.

After I finished eating and then washed up in the scullery, I retrieved my knitting from my room and hung up my coat. When I returned to the servants’ hall, Rosalie complimented me on my scarf and left to get her book. Marianne and Maryellen sat me between them and proceeded to have me watch their hands and then copy their movements.

My knitting wasn’t getting any smoother.

Fiona shook her head as she rose to tune in the radio to a play. It was a mystery, suitably haunting for the windy night outside.

We hadn’t been working very long when an army sergeant appeared in the kitchen. “Mrs. Redmond?”

“That’s me.”

“Come with me, please.”

“Ssh,” Aileen said.

I hoped it was to see Charlie Adler and not to learn something had happened to Adam. We weren’t having a shooting war yet, but there were always casualties during training. I rose, set down my knitting, and followed him, no one saying a word as they watched us leave. The only sounds were the voices and the background sounds ringing out from the radio and my knees knocking together in fear.

Please don’t call me in about Adam. Please.

We turned the corner from the kitchen and continued on to another short hall on this floor. He opened the door into the office in the main house that I’d seen on Sunday. An army officer stood by the desk, waiting for me to come in.

“Mrs. Redmond?”

“Yes?”

He introduced himself. “I understand you need to see one of our soldiers.”

“Yes.” Thank goodness nothing bad has happened to Adam. I stiffened my knees before I collapsed in relief.

“Private Charles Adler.”

“That’s correct.”

“What is he accused of?”

“Nothing. He was friends with a murder victim. We’re speaking to all of her friends, trying to get a picture of her life. The more we learn, the more we can eliminate false leads.” I hoped he bought my story.

“I’m going to stay.”

I doubted Adler would be as forthcoming with an officer standing there. “Do you believe he’s guilty?”

“Why should I?”

“Why else would you feel the need to listen in on a purely routine inquiry?”

The officer’s mouth opened and closed twice. “No, I don’t think he’s done anything wrong. He’s one of our better recruits. But I don’t want you twisting his words or actions around.”

“There’s no danger of that,” I told him. “Are you going to send for Adler or are we going to him?”

“Sergeant,” he said, turning slightly, “bring Private Adler here.”

We faced each other in silence across the office for a few minutes. The flocked wallpaper in a deep rose and light pink seemed an amusing choice for a military facility, but then, these were borrowed quarters and there was a war on.

Charlie Adler, when he arrived, turned out to be a tall, broad-shouldered blond man in his early twenties. He had a wide face and a tendency to try to shrink his body whenever he glanced in the direction of the officer.

I asked Adler to take a chair and sat across from him. The officer, a major, was about to object until I shot a threatening look at him. He must have decided it wasn’t worth the effort and sat on one of the nearby desks.

“Now, Private Adler—may I call you Charlie?—I understand you were friends with Sarah Wycott.”

He nodded, his mouth clamped shut. His gaze seemed to travel through the wallpaper and into the past.

“You’ve heard what happened to her?”

“She died.”

“She was murdered.” There was no way to soften my news.

“What?” He half-sprang from his chair.

“Sit down, Charlie. I want you to help me figure out who killed her.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“I didn’t think you did.” I waited until he subsided into the wooden desk chair. “I want you to help me. You were her friend, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I want to help.”

“Good.” I tried to sound encouraging. “But to help, you need to be completely honest.”

He nodded.

I faced the officer. “Major, I want Adler to be truthful and I don’t want him to face any consequences from you for anything he might tell me. If you can’t guarantee that, then I want you to find me another officer who can.”

He turned bright red.

“I’m serious, Major.”

He looked away, considered his options, and then turned back to me and nodded.

“I want to hear you give me your word.”

“Oh, for—all right, I give you my word as an officer that I will not seek any disciplinary actions against Adler for anything he may say here. And on your head be it.”

“Thank you.” His annoyance told me he’d stick to our agreement. “Now, Charlie, how long had you known Sarah?”

“Ages. We were in school together. Then after I left school to go to work at the boat factory, both building and repairing them and earning a good wage, and Sarah stayed in school, I’d see her at chapel or in the village. Then she went away to university, and I only saw her on holidays, but we still made a point of seeing each other whenever we could.”

“Tell me about her. About her childhood. What was she like?”

“She was the best, smartest student in our school. She was a leader in her Girl Guides group. Everyone in our town loved her. She was nice and kind and loyal.”

“Were you sweethearts?”

A big, wistful grin spread across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

“How did her father feel about that?”

“He thought we were too young, but he didn’t stand in our way. He only asked we wait a year or two, and then the war came, and Sarah had to come here.”

“Did you know she was here?”

Charlie glanced at the major, who was staring at the blackout curtains. “When she came up here for her interview, I rode up and back on the train with her. I knew where she was working. Then I enlisted.”

“And found yourself stationed here.”

“Marvelous piece of luck. I had no idea she was staying here in the house until I saw her one morning walking down the drive. I whistled, and she turned around. She signaled me to be there at six that night. There was nothing on at that time here on the base, so I slipped away and met her.”

He could easily have convinced her to walk down the lane with him that night and kill her, but I didn’t believe he had. Either that, or he was the best actor I had ever seen.

“Did you continue to meet with her?”

“Of course.”

“Where?”

“Here and there.” He shrugged.

“Did you meet her the night she died?”

“No.”

“Were you supposed to?”

Charlie glanced at the major, who was still looking at the blackout curtains, pretending he wasn’t listening. “Yes.”

“At what time?”

“I’d rather not say, ma’am.”

“I’d rather you did. It’s important. Major, could you get me a glass of water, please?”

The officer glowered at Charlie. “Answer her questions, Private.” Then he rose and strode out of the room.

I gave him the ten seconds it took his footsteps to retreat across the house before I said, “Quick. What time?”

“Eight-thirty. There’s a half-hour from eight-thirty until nine when this office is empty. I would come in here, unlock the door to the other side, and wait. That night she didn’t show up. I figured she was busy at work and couldn’t make it, so I locked the door and left.”

“When did you see her the last time?”

“You mean before Monday night?”

“Yes.”

The major walked in and set the glass of water on the desk next to me.

“The night before.”

“How did she seem?”

“Distracted. I asked if there was anything I could do, but she just shook her head. I figured it had to do with work. I knew she couldn’t talk about that, so I just dropped it.”

“How long did you talk?” I glanced at the major, who had taken up his post staring at the curtains again.

“Just a few minutes. Then she said she had to get back.”

“Did you make a date to meet the next night?”

He grinned. “Yes. She said she’d have everything all sorted by then. That she wanted to see me without this hanging over her head.”

I leaned forward slightly, feeling that we were making progress. “Were those her exact words, Charlie?”

“Yes. ‘Without this hanging over my head.’”

“Did she give you any clue as to what she was referring to?”

“No. I just assumed it had to do with her work.”

“What else did she say? What else did you talk about?”

“I told her I received a letter from my ma. My sister’s baby had been sick, but appeared to be doing better. She didn’t seem to pay much attention, and that was unusual. She and my sister are—were—close.”

There had to be a clue. Something that would tell us why she was distracted. “What else did she say? What else did you say?”

He looked at me, the pain of his loss showing in his eyes. “It’s important, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Charlie, it is.”

“She asked me if I thought what we were doing, standing up for Britain, is important. I told her of course it is. She just sort of nodded to herself. Then she said, ‘The Germans can be stopped. We can’t let them win. I’ve seen something, Charlie, but I don’t know what it means. I must do something, but I don’t know how to stop it or if I should stop it. I could be wrong. I probably am wrong, in which case I don’t need to do anything. This whole thing makes no sense.’”