‘Charles Shepherd’s widow,’ said the inspector. ‘And according to the women from the stables, her daughter is married to some German bloke.’
‘Ah,’ said Cox, as if that explained everything.
Everything in the house was perfectly normal, apart from one thing. An envelope marked Two tickets for a ferry to the Hook of Holland rested next to the condiments on the kitchen table. When the inspector opened it, inside he found a hastily scrawled note which said, Thanks for the memory.
The inspector glanced up at his constable. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
Constable Cox shrugged. ‘Buggered if I know, sir.’
Chapter 39
When the shutter went down, Freddie was left standing with his mouth open. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had no intention of taking Agatha and Pearl with him, because the plan was that he should meet Christoph in Harwich, then Christoph would try and get him aboard a ship. So where was Christoph? Come to think of it, there was no sign of anyone from the embassy. Had they already gone? He could feel a rage welling up inside of him. Had they deliberately left him? That he was going to do the self-same thing to Agatha and Pearl was one thing, but to leave him behind after all that he’d done for the Fatherland – it was monstrous; unthinkable!
For a moment or two he was completely stunned. What should he do? Where should he go? He was on the horns of a dilemma. He couldn’t stay in England. What would happen to him if they did declare war? If they found out what he had been doing, he’d be in big trouble or, worse still, hung. He felt sick to his stomach. Right now, he was so upset he couldn’t even think straight. He had to make some other plan. Drive somewhere perhaps – Scotland or maybe Wales. Bloody hell – he’d just sold the car!
Back at the garage, the mechanic was unsympathetic. ‘Sorry, mate, I already had a buyer lined up. He came almost as soon as you’d left. The car’s already gone.’
With nowhere else to go, Freddie was forced to return to the hotel. What was he going to tell Agatha and Pearl? He’d only brought them along to humiliate them. When they all got to the gangplank, he would have turned to them and said, ‘Show them your tickets then.’ He’d enjoyed thinking about their expressions as they said, ‘But you’ve got them, haven’t you?’
‘No,’ he would say, ‘I left them on the kitchen table for you. Don’t tell me you didn’t pick them up.’
It would have been a sweet moment.
Oh, why the hell had he let them come with him? It had delayed him, and now he was well and truly stuck. He should have just set off straight away alone in the night, then he wouldn’t have had to face their questions either.
His wife and mother-in-law were sitting on a comfortable settee in the foyer when he got back. They were both looking up at someone. Freddie couldn’t see who it was until he came round the side of a huge flowerpot with a massive aspidistra and by then it was too late. His heart sank as Agatha turned to him and said, ‘This police officer says we have to go back home. There’s been an incident.’
Freddie’s face paled. ‘An incident? What incident?’
‘There’s been a fire on your property, sir. A cottage has been badly damaged.’
Freddie decided to leg it. The policeman was the wrong side of fifty and very overweight. He turned sharply, but found himself facing another, much younger police officer. ‘That’s too bad,’ he said, regaining his composure, ‘but it doesn’t really concern me. I’m sure my mother-in-law has already told you the property belongs to her.’
‘To Millicent,’ said Agatha.
Freddie blinked. ‘You never told me that.’
‘It was none of your business,’ Agatha snapped.
‘That may well be the case, sir,’ said the constable, ‘but that doesn’t account for the body. It looks like there’s been a murder.’
Freddie’s jaw dropped. Agatha took in a noisy breath and Pearl fainted.
Seebold and Lena were still in a state of shock when they arrived at the mortuary in Broadwater. There was some paperwork that needed to be done and a police officer accompanied them down a corridor as they set off to view the body. As they drew nearer to the door at the end of the corridor, Seebold began to drag his feet. He stopped walking and shook his head apologetically.
‘Sorry, Lena love. I know I’m being a wuss, but I can’t. I can’t look at her all dead. Not now . . . not yet.’
Lena was desperately upset as well, but she was clearly made of sterner stuff. She simply nodded and continued to follow the undertaker and the policeman.
Seebold sat on a chair in the corridor and, leaning forward, put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes. His chest felt like lead. He could hardly breathe. She’d died never knowing how much he loved her. He should have told her. Lena told him to tell her, but he was too afraid. What an idiot he’d been. He always thought having her close just as a friend was better than not having her at all, but now he wished he’d told her. He sensed a movement above him but he didn’t look up. Then a soft voice said, ‘What’s going on, Seebold? Why are we here?’
The voice was hers, but it couldn’t be her, could it. She was behind that door, under a sheet, all cold and dead. I’m hallucinating, he told himself. It’s the grief.
But when he felt a light touch on his shoulder, he started. His head shot up and, as soon as he saw her, he cried out in shocked surprise.
At the same time, the mortuary door opened and closed and Lena came running towards them. ‘Milly!’ she said, her voice choked with emotion. ‘Where have you been? Dear God in heaven. The body – we thought it was you.’
Seebold rose to his feet. ‘I thought I’d lost you, duchess,’ he said, grasping her hands. ‘I couldn’t bear it if I’d lost you.’
Milly frowned. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He’d obviously been crying. ‘I’m sorry. I stayed with one of the girls in Worthing last night.’ She paused. ‘I don’t understand. Inspector Young came to Hubbard’s and told me I had to come and identify a body. They said we’d had a fire and someone had been found dead. For one ghastly moment, I thought it was you.’ She was looking at Lena. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry. So who is it? And what were they doing in the cottage?’
They both turned towards Lena. By now she was visibly upset too. Milly’s heart was thumping.
Seebold put his hand gently onto Lena’s shoulder. ‘Did you recognise the person?’
Lena nodded her head. ‘It was Nan.’ She gave an involuntary shudder. ‘Oh Milly, poor Nan is dead. Someone banged her on the head and then set the cottage on fire.’
The next few hours were terribly painful for all of them. The girls spent the night with the people at the stables, then Seebold drove them back to Nan’s cottage the next day. The worst thing was going to be having to tell Cyril. It was obvious that he was completely unaware of what had happened because he had been in Horsham visiting his sick brother.
When they all walked in, they knew Cyril was already back home. ‘Come in, come in,’ he said. He was twiddling with the radio knobs. ‘Sit down. I’ll soon have this thing working.’
‘Cyril—’ Milly began.
‘Shh, girl,’ he said. ‘Mr Chamberlain is about to speak. Tell me what you’ve got to tell me when he’s finished.’
The familiar voice of the prime minister came through the crackling radio.
‘I am speaking to you from the cabinet room at 10 Downing Street. This morning the British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o’clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.’
