Michael Ridpath - Shadows of War

‘I’m on leave,’ said Conrad.

‘Huh,’ said Marshall with the clear implication that he didn’t believe a word of it.

‘That’s rot, Conrad, and you know it,’ said Isobel, returning from the kitchen.

‘I admit it’s a special kind of leave,’ said Conrad. He knew he would have to tell Isobel everything, and hope firstly that she would believe him, secondly that she would want to help him and thirdly that she would be able to persuade her husband. He didn’t look a pushover, but Conrad well knew it was foolish to underestimate a Blakeborough girl’s ability to push men.

‘I’m after my father. I have to get hold of him before he catches up with the Duke of Windsor.’

‘But the duke is in Paris,’ said Isobel. ‘We saw him only last week. He had dropped Wallis off in Biarritz and returned to duty.’

‘Not anymore, he isn’t,’ said Conrad. ‘He left for Biarritz again first thing this morning. My father arrived from London today to look for him, and I am looking for my father.’

‘What’s all the urgency about?’ asked Haldeman, who did at least look interested, if sceptical.

Conrad told them. About Henry Alston and Lord Oakford’s plans to topple Churchill and replace him with a government that would make peace with Germany. His hosts listened closely. As he spoke, Conrad was aware that Haldeman was a neutral, and an influential neutral at that, and that Conrad had no idea of his views on the war.

‘I see,’ said Isobel when Conrad had finished. ‘So what do you want from us?’

‘He wants our car,’ said Haldeman. He put down his fork and looked straight at Conrad. ‘Don’t you?’

The maid brought in Conrad’s omelette. ‘That’s right,’ said Conrad. ‘I’ll bring it back when I have found my father.’

‘Unless this is a German city by then,’ said Haldeman.

‘Then I’ll find you wherever you are,’ said Conrad. As he did so, he realized that without their car, they wouldn’t be going anywhere.

‘We are planning to stay on in Paris,’ said Isobel. ‘America is neutral, and Marshall’s business is here.’

Conrad was tempted to point out that they wouldn’t need their car in that case, but decided not to. His plan was not going to work.

‘I see,’ he said. ‘Can you spare it?’ He had to try.

‘I’m sorry, de Lancey. The answer has to be no,’ said Haldeman.

Isobel didn’t look as if she was going to argue with her husband. ‘But you are welcome to stay here tonight if you wish.’

‘I understand,’ said Conrad. ‘And thank you for your offer. But I think I should continue my search elsewhere. You don’t happen to know anyone else who might be willing to part with a car? Or who is leaving anyway and has room for an extra body?’

‘No,’ said Haldeman simply.

The American wasn’t being unfriendly, just straight. The chances of Conrad getting hold of transportation were nil.

The bell rang. The maid had just left and so Isobel answered it. From the hallway, Conrad heard the familiar shriek of his ex-wife. ‘Darling!’

‘You’ll never guess who’s here,’ said Isobel, leading Veronica into the dining room. ‘It’s your husband. What a surprise.’ The irony was heavy.

‘Oh, how lovely!’ said Veronica. ‘I knew Conrad was in Paris, but it’s dreadfully lucky to find him here.’

‘Hello, Veronica,’ said Conrad coldly.

‘Here comes trouble,’ said Marshall in a gruff voice, but he couldn’t repress a smile. Veronica had got to him.

‘Veronica, what are you doing here?’ asked Conrad.

‘Don’t sound so cross, darling. I’ve come here to help.’

‘How did you know I was in Paris?’

‘Williamson told me.’

‘But I didn’t tell Williamson.’

‘You don’t have to tell servants things for them to know them, Conrad. Williamson sees things. He hears things.’

‘And then he tells you?’

Veronica’s smile had a hint of triumph.

‘I was just leaving,’ said Conrad.

‘Oh, don’t go,’ said Veronica.

‘He came to borrow our car,’ said Haldeman.

‘Aren’t you going to lend it to him?’ said Veronica.

‘No,’ said Isobel. ‘We need it. There’s a good chance that this city will be German soon.’

‘Why does he want it?’

‘He says he’s got to catch up with his father before he sees the Duke of Windsor in Biarritz,’ said Haldeman. Conrad was glad that he had at least been paying attention.

‘Well, then you definitely must let him have it,’ said Veronica.

‘It all sounds a bit fishy to me,’ said Haldeman.

‘Of course it’s fishy,’ said Veronica. ‘The whole thing stinks. Poor Freddie Copthorne was run down by some horrible MP. You’ve met Freddie, haven’t you, Isobel? Then someone tried to murder Conrad last night. There is definitely something fishy going on and Conrad is the man to sort it out!’

‘I think they thought I was the fishy one,’ said Conrad, impressed with Veronica’s loyalty.

‘He did come asking some rum questions about the Duke of Windsor last time he was here in November,’ said Isobel. ‘You remember I told you.’

‘He claims that his father is planning to get the duke to return to England and persuade the British to sue for peace,’ said Haldeman.

‘Well, then you must definitely help Conrad stop him!’ said Veronica. ‘Look. Conrad might be a stubborn brute, but he’s definitely not fishy. This is your chance to help the war effort, Bel. Do something that really will make a difference.’

Isobel frowned at her sister. But she was listening.

‘Look. I’ll go with him. And I’ll make sure I bring the car back to Paris afterwards. I’m a professional driver now. And Alec taught me some racing-driver tips if we need to go fast.’

‘What if the city is German by the time you get back?’

‘We will only be gone for a few days. And I’ll sneak back in somehow. I promise. On Magic’s grave.’

Isobel smiled. ‘Magic doesn’t have a grave. In fact I dread to think where Magic ended up.’

‘Who is Magic?’ asked Marshall.

‘Magic was Veronica’s first pony,’ said Isobel. ‘He lived to be twenty-six.’

‘There you are then!’ said Veronica, although it wasn’t clear to any of them what her pony’s longevity had to do with Conrad’s need for a car.

‘What do you think, Marsh?’ said Isobel.

Conrad was stunned. It looked as if he might, he just might, get his hands on their car.

Marshall was smiling. ‘I’m impressed by your powers of persuasion, Veronica, but the answer is still no.’

‘You love peace, liberty and democracy, don’t you, Marshall?’ said Veronica. ‘You have to, a nice American like you.’

‘I guess I do,’ said Marshall, still smiling.

‘Well, when the beastly Germans have been goose-stepping around the Paris streets for a year or so, and you are doing your neutral business here, you will like looking back to today and thinking: I did my bit for peace, liberty and democracy. I know you, Marshall. You will like that, I promise.’

Conrad could see that Veronica had got to him. So could Isobel. And so could Marshall himself.

‘OK,’ he said, shaking his head but smiling at the same time. ‘But you make sure you bring it back here by the end of next week.’

‘Hurrah!’ said Veronica and turned to Conrad triumphantly.

‘Thank you, Haldeman,’ said Conrad.

‘When do we leave? Right away?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Conrad. ‘I do want to catch my father up, but the roads will be tricky in the dark. Even with a professional driver in the car.’ He realized that he was now committed to a long drive across France with his ex-wife, but there was nothing he could do about that, and she had done a good job.