Chapter Sixteen

You must think I’m stupid. Do you not think I don’t know what a copper looks like? You have one warning. If I see him one more time…

Your dog was lucky. The next time, whoever I choose won’t be!

You now have 3 weeks!

Lawrence turned the note over, though as before, there wasn’t anything else. “Not exactly eloquent, is he,” Lawrence stated.

“Here,” Betty said, pushing a cup of hot cocoa into his free hand. “Again, we can’t thank you enough for coming out so quickly, and at such a late hour, too.”

“Ten thirty’s not so late,” he managed to get out before having to cover his mouth as he yawned.

Penny leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, nearly spilling her own cocoa into his lap in the process. “There’s no need to be gallant. We really do appreciate it.”

Ruth and Walter somewhat sleepily nodded in agreement.

“What do you think we should do?” Ruth asked.

“Well,” Lawrence said, after scratching his head for a minute, “for a start, I’d keep a very close eye on Bobby. Whoever this swine is, he’s now made a direct threat against him.”

“Let them try,” Ruth told them. “They’ll not only have me after their hide, but the whole station, too!”

The cocker spaniel in question merely raised his head from its position on Ruth’s lap and treated everyone to a very wide yawn before settling back down, as if safe in the knowledge that what his owner had said was true. Last year, RAF Hamble had been the victim of a sneak raid by a lone fighter-bomber and, largely because of his turning up and barking his head off in warning, there had been no fatalities, though Betty had suffered a few cuts. Ever since then, he’d had free rein to go where he pleased on the station.

Lawrence turned to Betty and asked, “Forgive me, Betty, but I have to ask. Have you thought this through? Do you intend to give this…these people, the money?”

Betty firmly shook her head. “Even if I had it, I wouldn’t. I’ve never given ground in my life, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to start now.”

“Good for you!” Penny declared, banging her mug on the kitchen table.

After a moment’s thought, Lawrence nodded. “Good. Never give in to blackmailers. Now, I’m assuming you’ve been giving some more thought as to who could be behind this?”

“And I still can’t think of anyone specific.”

“Specific or otherwise?”

Betty shrugged. “When we were…active,” she settled on with a wry smile, still trying to be careful even though Lawrence now knew about her role as her jewel thief sister’s fence, “there were too many jobs to keep track of. It really could be anyone. I don’t suppose it helps that a lot of them were decidedly on the dodgy side, so we undoubtedly made a lot of not-so-nice enemies.”

Lawrence took a satisfying sip from his mug before replying, “You’re right, that doesn’t help.”

“We were very careful,” Betty added, not bothering to keep a hint of pride from her voice.

“I’m sure you were,” Lawrence agreed, looking at her over the top of his mug.

“All of which doesn’t help us at all,” Penny pointed out.

“Sorry about that,” Betty answered. “Look, it’s not like I’m trying to be unhelpful, Lawrence. It’s just that I honestly have no idea who it could be.”

“And you did give most of the money you inherited from Eleanor to charity,” Penny felt inclined to add, “so you really can’t give it back anyway.”

Walter summed things up nicely. “All of which leaves us up a creek without a paddle.”

“I’m not quite certain what a creek is,” Ruth remarked, “but I get what you mean.”

“Doris tells me it’s something to do with water,” Walter supplied.

“Never mind,” Lawrence broke in. “I can’t remember if I asked you before, but have you noticed anyone hanging around? Anyone who’s just turned up, out of the blue?”

Betty’s eyes flicked around the room, as if seeing if anyone else was going to say anything before she made up her mind. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this to you, Lawrence, but there is someone new around the village, someone Doris insists she doesn’t like the look of.”

“Who’s this, then?” he asked, leaning forward and setting his elbows on the table.

Penny nudged Betty’s arm, then told Lawrence, “It’s only the new owner of the fish ’n’ chip shop. Doris thinks he looks…fishy!”

Betty lightly smacked her friend on the hand. “Oh, very funny! And how long have you been waiting to use that one?”

Penny wagged her head from one side to the other. “Oh, virtually since the first moment Doris mentioned him. Do you think I could get away with using it with Doris too?”

“Probably,” Betty replied after a moment.

Lawrence ignored the two’s banter. “Nothing’s nothing,” Lawrence muttered, before finishing off his cocoa. “What’s so strange about this man, then?”

A little on the spot, Betty rubbed her forehead before saying, “Well, for a start, he seems to know very little about fish ’n’ chips…”

“And Doris should know.” Penny laughed.

Lawrence looked over at Penny. “Please, not now.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Go on,” Lawrence urged Betty.

“Well,” she began, throwing Penny a glare, “Doris told us he simply stands to one side whilst someone else serves. Plus, the first time she was in there and Doris’s name was mentioned, he just stared at her.”

Lawrence coughed. “If you’ll pardon my mentioning one small fact, she’s rather a stunning young lady. That would explain why he’d stare at her.” Looking around the room, Lawrence added, “Just a thought, but where’s Mary?”

“She’s up in Scotland, with Doris, looking over her family manor,” Jane told him. “They’ll be back tomorrow for work on Monday.”

“You’re a hard taskmaster,” Lawrence said, with a shake of his head and a quiet chuckle.

“Lots of planes to deliver, not enough pilots.” Jane shrugged.

“Well, I’ll check what you said with her when she gets back,” Lawrence told the room. “In the meantime, I’d really like to take a look at this chap for myself.”

“Um, just a thought,” Jane said. “If, on the off chance, this man has something to do with all this, wouldn’t knocking on his door and asking to see him simply prove you’re a policeman?”

“And working on this case, official or not, it wouldn’t matter to them,” Walter added.

As Lawrence got up to leave, Jane said, “How about, until this mess is over with, you meet up with us in my office on the station? I’m aware,” she hastily added, upon seeing the expression which had come to Lawrence’s face and correctly reading its meaning, “this means you can’t see Mary around here for a while. I’m sorry, but I feel this is the best way forward.”

Lawrence mustered a weak smile. “You’re right. I’ll be at the guardroom about six.”

“I’ll leave orders to the effect you’re to be admitted with as little hassle as possible, until further notice,” Jane told him.

“Ruth, should I assume you and Walter will be meeting up at the ops hut too?”

“Try and keep us away,” Ruth replied.

“Right, fish ’n’ chips for”—he paused to do a count—“six it is.”

****

Lying in her bed that night, Doris flicked on her bedside light and turned to face the now illuminated face of her friend. “Are you awake, Mary?” When she got no response, she pulled out one of the pillows from beneath her head and threw it at Mary, whose eyes immediately flicked open. “Ah, good, you’re awake.”

“Well, I am now,” Mary grumbled, sitting up and throwing the pillow to the floor. “What’s wrong?”

Picking up the pillow, Doris hugged it to her chest and let out a squeal. “I can’t believe I’m sleeping in a castle!”

Mary propped herself up on an elbow. “Firstly, it’s not a castle, and secondly, you woke me up to tell me that?”

“Well, to your uncultured American cousins, it’s a castle,” Doris told her, still sporting a grin.

Mary peered at her watch. “Okay, at three thirty in the morning, it’s a castle. Now, do you mind if we go back to sleep?”

“Go back to sleep?” Doris said. “I haven’t been to sleep!”

Mary’s flailing hand found the switch for the light between them and switched it off, plunging the room back into darkness. “Please try. I’m tired.”

After a few minutes, Doris switched the light back on, and Mary groaned.

“Sorry, sorry,” Doris told her, flinging her blankets and sheets back. “I’m going for a wander. I’m just too excited to sleep.”

“Just be careful, and don’t disturb the patients. At least they’re asleep,” she finished, grumbling and throwing her covers over her face as Doris pulled on her robe.

Five minutes later, Doris had managed to locate the torch she always carried in her bag. Opening the door to their rooms, she was greeted by the long, silent corridor which led toward the main staircase. Listening carefully, she could detect no noises apart from the odd low groan coming from downstairs. Switching on her torch, Doris padded her way along the wooden-floored corridor, thankful she’d remembered to pack her slippers. Shivering, she tightened the cord of her robe, which didn’t help any. Mary hadn’t been joking when she’d said the house got very cold in winter, let alone at night.

“Maybe just a quick scoot around,” she mumbled to herself.

Coming to the top of the stairs, she paused and listened once more. The temptation to go down and have a mooch around was tremendous. However, Mary as well as Captain Wood had asked—nay, ordered—her to keep away from anywhere medical. In this house, that literally meant everywhere, except the rooms they occupied and the attic spaces. Doris remembered the relief on Mary’s face when she’d asked about the attic, without specifying her childhood rooms, and been told that the officials had looked at those areas when they first moved in, but had decided it would be too awkward to use them for patients. Some of the medical staff had initially moved in to some of them—but not hers, he believed, though he wasn’t a hundred percent sure—only to declare them too drafty. They had been much happier taking up residence in the Nissan huts erected for the personnel in the grounds. As Nissan huts were notoriously cold, this said something about how cold the attic rooms were. Once out of earshot of their new army friend, Mary had wiped her brow in relief.

A rapping noise startled her out of her reverie. Looking up, Doris shone the torch beam before her, trying to locate the source, and then turned around when she saw nothing and shone it back the way she’d come. Whilst her head was turned, it came again, this time from directly above her head and slightly behind her. With the torch beam fixed upon the ceiling, Doris took to her heels, the rapping noise insistent but low enough that she doubted it would reach the lower floors. Coming to a door, she pulled it open without even thinking it could be locked and was halfway up a narrow set of stairs before she turned around, briefly wondering why it wasn’t locked. Then, not thinking of any reason it should be locked, dismissed the question as not worth dwelling on.

Nevertheless, when she came to a door at the top of the stairs, she stopped to push it rather than rush through. Closing it behind her, she found herself in a long, bare corridor. With no carpet upon the floor and only bare plaster walls, these had to be the attic rooms Mary had so fondly talked about when they first met. Flashing the beam of light down it, so far as she could see, nothing was around which could be making the rapping noise she could now hear more clearly than ever.

Suddenly, a flash of light came from the far end of the corridor. Taking to her heels, Doris hurried toward where she thought it had come from. Only when she found herself outside the last door on her left did she realize the noise had stopped. Holding her breath for as long as she could, she listened harder than she’d ever done in her whole life. Something told her this wasn’t normal and could be important. By the time she had to take a breath, the rapping still hadn’t come back.

“Well, this is going to be an interesting subject to talk to Mary about later,” she told herself. Only then did she shine the beam of the torch around, searching again for what could have caused that flash of light. On the walls, she now noticed there were candle holders, but none had any candles in them…plus, she knew it hadn’t been candlelight she’d seen. Apart from those, nothing else was of any interest in the corridor. Turning around, she noticed another door directly opposite the one she’d come through at the other end of the corridor. Surmising this could only lead back down stairs, she tugged on the handle and wasn’t surprised to find this one was also unlocked.

Facing the door on her left, she placed her hand on this door handle and found it to be locked. Deciding upon a little test, she turned and walked back down the corridor the way she’d come, trying every door handle of each room. They were all on the same side as the locked one, and as she went, each opened, though all proved to be of no interest, containing not even a stick of furniture. She turned and made her way back toward the locked room. Bringing the torch beam up, she shone it around, quickly finding something to pique her curiosity. Taking a step closer, she read the sign on the door.

Mary’s room. No admittance!