Barbara Cleverly - Tug of War

‘Number four. Ah. . Now I see why I’m here and about to ruin my first holiday in three years!’ Joe cocked an amused eyebrow at the Brigadier. ‘Madame Clovis Houdart. Of the champagne house near Epernay The invalid could be her husband, Clovis, posted missing in 1917. Do you wish, at this point, to declare an interest, Sir Douglas?’

‘Well, of course!’ He rapped sharply on the desk. ‘But an interest in finding out the truth! You must hear, Sandilands, the facts of the matter. . be aware of the pressures and expectations then you won’t fall foul of them. I was approached by my friend, Charles-Auguste, when he heard of the involvement of the British authorities. He appeals to me to do what I can to ensure that the widow’s claim is rejected. Proved false. He is quite certain that the man in question is not his cousin. And he is deeply suspicious of the widow’s motivation in all this. Aline. Her name’s Aline. It’s no secret that the two in-laws do not get on well but more than that I can’t tell you. They’re perfectly polite to each other in their French way but you never can tell what’s bubbling under the surface, can you? Awkward, what!’

‘Sir, it occurs to me that we have the same theme running through each of these claims. And I don’t refer to the affection they may or may not have for a dear and supposed departed one.’

‘Go on.’

‘A very prosaic and unromantic but deeply compelling motive. And particularly so in these hard times in France. Money, sir. I fear each of these claims could be based on financial gain.’

‘What an unworthy thought! Had the same one myself. Mm. . yes. . been researching this. Save you some time. If he is ever identified to the authorities’ satisfaction, the man will, of course, even though he’s out of his head and unaware of anything, be qualified to receive a very generous allowance from the state. A sort of war pension, calculated from the time of his vanishing to the present day and beyond. Froggies are quite a bit more open-handed than we are when it comes to paying for damages. His family, whoever they are proved to be, can count on receiving — shall we say — eight years’ back pay. A fortune to some of the names on that list.’

‘Park the poor fellow in a rocking chair in the corner and they can go on drawing his pension as long as they can keep him alive,’ said Joe. ‘I would expect he qualifies for a disability allowance? But your friend Houdart? Some other financial advantage there, surely, I would guess? If the widow’s claim were to be upheld, “Clovis” would be restored to the family estates and Charles-Auguste’s presence would be in question, probably redundant. “Thank you so much, dear cousin, but you may leave now. I will do all that is necessary from now on.” Not confident I could navigate the intricacies of the Gallic laws of inheritance but obviously spanners would be thrown into works with a resounding clang.’

‘In a nutshell. Yes. It may come down to inheritance.’

‘But you mentioned something, sir. . just now. . which intrigued me. You say your friend contacted you with his plea for assistance after the police and the British authorities were made aware? We may assume his approach to be subsequent to — and perhaps dependent on — the official representation? I’m wondering why they should be bothering you with this affair at all.’

Redmayne was happy with Joe’s perception and his increasingly obvious involvement with the puzzle. ‘ Rem acu tetigisti , Commander. Spot on the problem!’ He leaned back, confident that his investigation was launched. ‘This director of the asylum, you had correctly identified as a good egg. Scientist by training, medical man, student of Charcot and Freud, I understand, not a civilian placeholder. You’re to liaise with him. He’s the target of much sniping from various French government departments for reasons you can probably guess but he has an interesting tale to tell. He got his voice heard largely because the new information he had to offer rather suited them, I’m thinking. But then, I have a very suspicious mind.’

Joe remained silent waiting for the final twist and jerk that would land him firmly in Redmayne’s net.

‘This medic has lavished care and attention on our mystery man, whose case seems to have caught his imagination. He has made copious notes on his condition and tried, by experiment, not electrical shocks — the doc is a humane man, it would seem — to find out the nature and cause of his illness. One night, a week or so ago, he was called by a nurse to the man’s room. The patient was reported to be having a particularly alarming nightmare and crying out in his sleep. Fascinating, of course. Normally completely dumb, perhaps, under the influence of the nightmare, he might well reveal some information? A useful name or two. . “ Odile, mon amour, tu me manques! Maman, ton fils, Robert, te cherche! ” Something of that nature.’

‘Yes? And did he make out any words?’

‘He did. Most surprising. And how lucky for us that this director is an educated man. He recognized the language at once. The patient was screaming out a stream of words.

And this is where we find ourselves involved, Sandilands. The words he was screaming were English .’

As Joe paused in the doorway to readjust the bulky file under his arm, Redmayne called out: ‘By the way, Joe. . a last word of advice. The name “Houdart”. . know what it means?’

‘No idea, sir. I’ve never heard it before.’

‘No. Most unusual. Charles tells me it’s a very ancient one from two Germanic roots.’ He frowned in an effort to remember. ‘ Hild , meaning combat and hard meaning. . well. . hard. Hard in combat. Tough fighter. And although Aline wasn’t herself born with that surname — I believe she started out as a de Sailly — she’s certainly grown into it. Oh, and Aline Houdart, you’ll find, is a damned attractive woman.’

The glance he directed at Joe was avuncular, amused. ‘Have a care, my boy!’

As Joe ran downstairs towards the open door of the breakfast room he glanced at his luggage, set in the hall the evening before ready for an early start. His two suitcases had been joined by one Gladstone bag and a pile of books done up with string.

Cheerful voices and a clatter of dishes warned him that breakfast was well under way and he checked his watch, annoyed to note he had overslept by half an hour. He paused by the door to collect himself and prepare for the good-natured teasing that would greet his late appearance. As he listened he took a furtive step back, startled by what he was hearing.

‘Well, my money’s on this Houdart woman,’ Lydia was saying firmly. ‘Sounds to me like someone who knows what she wants and gets it. She’ll do a deal with the authorities, pull strings. . pull Joe’s strings too, I shouldn’t wonder! And she’ll have this poor man for her nefarious purposes.’

‘Can’t say I’d mind being had for nefarious purposes by a glamorous champagne widow,’ said Joe’s brother-in-law. ‘She can have her wicked way with me any day. Oh, I don’t know. Let’s add a sporting dash of excitement! Why not? I’ll go for the dark horse. . Mademoiselle from Armentières. . what was her name? Pass me that sheet, Dorcas.’ There was a rustle of paper. ‘Mireille, that’s it. Yes, if you’re making a book put a tenner for me on the Tart from Reims.’

‘Marcus!’ Lydia protested automatically. ‘Language! Ladies present!’

‘You’re both wrong,’ said Dorcas. ‘Aunt Lydia — do I still get my weekly pocket money while I’m in France? Good! Then, will you put a shilling for me on the Tellancourt family?’ Raising her voice, she said casually, ‘I’ll pour some coffee for Joe and ring for more. I’m sure I heard him come downstairs just now.’