Charles Todd - A Bitter Truth

There was a distinctly pleased note behind his words. “I had a small task to perform. Don’t ask, I can’t tell you. But it ended very satisfactorily.”

He’d been in France. It was something he’d been eager to do since the day war was declared. But he’d been set on the sidelines, an adviser, his experience consulted again and again, but his vast talents never put to their full use.

“I’m very glad,” I said faintly. “Are you all right?”

“I will be in a day or two. More important, are you?”

“It’s been a very long four-and-twenty hours,” I answered in my turn, and he was instantly alert.

Roger Ellis was at the door. “Who is it? I told you to send them-” He broke off. “Brandon,” he said in acknowledgment. And then he looked over his shoulder, before adding, “I think it would be for the best if you took Sister Crawford back to The King’s Head. We’ve had a difficult time here, and she may feel more comfortable in other surroundings.”

I turned to him. “I’m not leaving without Sophie. She’s my charge, not yours.”

“Sister-Bess. Give them a few days to get used to the fact she must leave.”

“If I give them a few days, they will have grown so attached to her-and she to them-that it will be impossible to take her away. If you will ask Daisy to pack my things, I’ll go up and fetch Sophie.”

“For God’s sake,” Roger began.

But I said, “You didn’t want her.”

“Dear God, Bess-”

“There’s a solicitor in the Street of Fishes. Go and speak to him, if you want her.”

I walked past him and into the hall. It was going to be very difficult, even for me. But if I left her, for the Ellis family it would be like losing Juliana all over again. And I didn’t know what else to do.

To my surprise it was Henry who came to my aid.

He stood up for me, saying, “It can’t be any other way for now. You must see that. She’s not yours. This child. But if you insist on having her, there’s a proper way to go about it.”

When I came down with Sophie in my arms, there was no one in the hall but Simon Brandon and Roger Ellis.

As Simon escorted me to the motorcar, Roger Ellis brought the valise that Daisy or someone had hastily packed.

I suddenly remembered the Major’s motorcar, but before I could mention it to Simon, Roger Ellis came to shut my door, saying to me, desperation in his voice, “Both Claudette and Gerard Hebert were fair.”

I knew at that moment that he couldn’t accept Sophie until Lydia believed that. And I thought she could be brought around to it, given time. She too would prefer not to dwell on that night with Claudette Hebert. It would be Mrs. Ellis and Gran who would fight hardest to hold on to the knowledge that Sophie was Roger’s child.

And then Simon was turning the motorcar, and we were heading toward Hartfield, leaving Vixen Hill and Roger Ellis behind us.

After we had reached the track, Simon spoke. “You’d better tell me everything.”

I did, ending with what, next to Sophie’s welfare, worried me most. “Who is the murderer, Simon? And is it finished, all this killing?”

“Go back to the facts you know, Bess. Leave everything else out of the equation.”

I smiled. “Easier said than done.”

We were just coming into Hartfield. “What am I to do about Sophie?” I asked as she reached up to touch my face.

“If you really want to return her to the nuns in Rouen, I’ll see to it for you.”

He had the means, I was sure of that. I wished with all my heart that I could leave Sophie’s future in Simon’s capable hands. But the more contact I had with her, the harder it was to be objective.

“Let me think about it. Please?”

“You’ll have children of your own one day, Bess. She isn’t yours. She never can be.”

“It isn’t that, Simon. It’s what I’ve done to hurt so many people. I don’t want to make the wrong decision about Sophie too.”

We had reached the inn, and when Simon had seen to the arrangements, I took Sophie up to my room and settled her. She asked two or three times for le chat, and I told her that Bluebell hadn’t come to The King’s Head.

After she’d been fed and put down to sleep, I went next door to Simon’s room and sat disconsolately on the chair by the window.

“If I could fix it, I would,” he said gently.

I smiled. “Would it were as easy as that.”

Taking a deep breath, I began with the facts.

“George Hughes came here when Alan Ellis was dying. And nothing happened to him. He came again when the memorial stone was to be set in place. And this time he was murdered. It’s possible that he went to meet someone-the note I discovered-or that he encountered someone when he went for a walk that last morning. He often went to Juliana’s grave.”

“All right. Let’s look at that. If he’d prepared to leave first thing-his valise in his motorcar, nothing left but to say his farewells-why did he take the time to walk?”

“Everyone thought to say good-bye to Juliana. And then Davis Merrit, a blind man, went for a ride on the heath after Lydia came to see him and told him what George had said. He often went riding. His horse could find its way back to Hartfield, if the Lieutenant got lost. This time it did just that-but without its rider.”

“I’ll just look in on the child,” he told me and was back quickly. “Asleep. Go on.”

“The police believe Lieutenant Merrit rode out to find George and kill him. But how did he, a blind man as I said, know where in all the heath to find George Hughes? Or that he was walking at all?”

“Had Lydia seen him on her way to Hartfield?”

“She never mentioned it. Nor did the police. So I must assume she didn’t.”

“And it wouldn’t be helpful to Merrit, if she spotted Hughes as she returned home.”

“True. Which must mean that somehow Lieutenant Merrit knew where and when to find George Hughes. And that would explain why George went for such an early walk, even though he was in something of a hurry to leave Vixen Hill and all the embarrassment he’d caused.”

“So far so good.”

I took a deep breath. “Simon. That message I found in the umbrella. What if it was dropped in there after the meeting took place. A good many people were at Alan’s memorial service in the churchyard. Anyone could have passed it to George Hughes then. But that leaves us with another quandary. Why would those two men wish to meet? The police haven’t been able to come up with any connection between them so far. Except Lydia.”

“They didn’t know where to look.”

“Good God, are you telling me that you’ve found a link?”

He nodded. “Actually it took your father’s connections to uncover it. There was a general court-martial two years ago. Merrit and Hughes were asked to sit on it.”

“A court-martial? I would never-but what was the case?”

“A Sergeant, one Albert Halloran, was accused of shooting an officer in the back during an attack across No Man’s Land. It could have been accidental, God knows there’s chaos in a charge, and no one can be sure when he fires who will suddenly step in the path of the shot. But in this case, the Sergeant had had words with the officer, and he was still angry when he went over the top. This was reported, and it was decided to try the man to get to the bottom of it. The court decided, unanimously, that the shooting had been intentional because the slain officer had warned the Sergeant that he was in danger of being sent back for dereliction of duty. He was sentenced to be hanged, but before it could be carried out, he overpowered his guards and escaped. It was thought that he managed to reach Boulogne and sail aboard a hospital ship bound for New Zealand, but when the ship was searched in New Zealand, he couldn’t be found.”