Cat Carlisle Book 2

‘Her husband didn’t mind?’ Thomas asked.

‘Apparently not. In any event, she caught him with another woman and kicked him out of the house. Despite a wardrobe full of tailored suits, she wouldn’t let him have anything but the clothes on his back. She was spiteful, tried to convince the police that he made off with a rare diamond necklace. Phillip came close to getting arrested, until the lady’s maid – she was rather involved with Phillip too, if the gossip is accurate – found the necklace hidden in her mistress’s desk. So Phillip returned to Rivenby penniless. He spends money like a lord and has accumulated a fair share of gambling debts.’

‘Does his mother have anything in her possession the Germans could use now? Something they would buy? It just seems far-fetched they would come after her now. Codes and tactics have changed since 1919.’

Reginald shook his head. ‘Not sure.’

‘Local police?’

‘Treating it as a homicide. Investigation ongoing. The woman’s name is – was – Win Billings. She’s got a niece she doted on, named Beth Hargreaves. Beth’s husband died six years ago. They’ve got a daughter, Edythe, who is 18 years old. The two have been living with Win. Phillip expected to inherit, but his mother changed her will, leaving the bulk of her assets to Beth.’

‘So if Phillip killed her, it was for nothing? What about Beth? Could she have killed her aunt?’

‘Anything’s possible, but I doubt it.’

Thomas had already made up his mind. Sir Reginald would get his way this one last time. Thomas would do so because of Cat. All he needed to do was convince her to go with him.

‘What exactly do you want me to do? I have no standing, and surely the police are working the case.’

‘I need your eyes, nothing more. This is strictly a watch-and-observe mission, with an eye towards interested parties who may try to influence the investigation or who show an unusual or inappropriate interest in things. There will be plenty of time for you to rest and take care of yourself. The country air will build your strength. The long walks in the woods will put the colour in your cheeks. I told the police you were coming as a favour to me. The DCI in charge, one Colin Kent, knows of Win’s service in the last war. Kent’s a good chap. He understands the lay of the land. He’ll give you no trouble. You can speak freely to him. Mutual cooperation is the operative word here.’

Trust Sir Reginald to make it all sound innocuous.

‘So am I correct in understanding you want me to observe the investigation, keep my eyes open in the village, and determine if anyone involved with Fifth Column operations murdered this woman as a vendetta killing? You’d think they’d have more pressing matters, like the war at hand, rather than the settling of scores from twenty years ago.’

‘It is not as far-fetched as you think, old boy. Win was a dear friend, a brave operative who is – was – respected and admired by her colleagues. I need to know what her son has been up to, or if someone from her past tracked her down and killed her. If that’s the case, other agents could be in danger. Some of Win’s contacts in the last war are in play now. This is important, Thomas. I don’t trust anyone but you to handle this one.’

‘And Cat Carlisle? How is she to be involved in this? How do you suggest I make use of her?’

‘You will simply start working on your next book. I was thinking a detailed study of monastic houses in Cumberland should keep you busy for a few years. Cat is a gregarious creature. Before long, she’ll fall in with her childhood friends. You can accompany her to social functions and get a first-rate view of village life, get a sense for who belongs where.’

‘I thought you didn’t want her involved with our arrangement any longer. You said she – and I’m quoting now – was reckless, inconsistent, and too emotional for this sort of work.’

Cat had worked for Sir Reginald briefly in 1937, when it came to light that a member of her household was stealing her husband’s classified documents and passing them on to a German agent. The mission had ended in disaster, with her husband’s murder and attention from the media.

‘Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep that mess with her husband off the front page of the papers? Mrs Carlisle is like a ticking bomb. She bumps into something – correction, she simply takes a breath – and things start exploding.’

‘That’s a little exaggerated, don’t you think?’

‘Just follow the orders, Thomas. Please.’

‘I haven’t seen her nor spoken to her since April, Reginald. I left – dropped off the face of the earth – without an explanation. I don’t suppose you took the time to let her know I’ve been in hospital recovering from a gunshot wound?’ Thomas didn’t wait for Sir Reginald’s response. ‘I didn’t think so. She’s probably furious with me. There’s a very good chance she won’t speak to me. If I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t.’

‘You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you? My God, I can see it on your face. You’ve fallen in love with her, but the feeling isn’t reciprocated.’ The old man tipped his head back and laughed.

‘My love life, or lack of, is none of your concern.’

‘Ah, but it is. Everything you do is my business, Thomas, and it will be until the day I die. I admit to having a soft spot for Cat Carlisle. She did well for us. But there’s no way she could operate without close supervision. Surely you can see that? And as for you falling in love with her, forgive me for being insensitive. I’ve watched women fall at your feet over the years, old boy, and you’ve been impervious to their charms. Now you find a woman who piques your interest … In any event, you should be glad she doesn’t reciprocate. There’s no room for romantic entanglements in this business.’ He gave Thomas a stern look. ‘She’s not to be involved in this, Thomas. She is not to know about Win’s activities, or why I have sent you to Rivenby. Do you understand me?’

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘That’s not good enough. Surely a man of your abilities can manage a woman, despite your feelings for her.’

‘Cat’s got a nose for subterfuge. She’ll know I’m up to something, mark my words. When my investigation for you comes to light – and believe me it will – there will be hell to pay.’

‘Handle it, Thomas. That’s an order. Cat Carlisle’s your problem, not mine. Bigger things are in play here than your affection for some woman.’

Thomas wanted to scream that Sir Reginald certainly didn’t feel that way when he asked Cat to drug her husband and switch his papers. This parry between Reginald and him had been ongoing for years. They had both grown used to it, expected it. But Thomas didn’t want Reginald issuing edicts where Cat was concerned. Because of Cat’s involvement – and his desperation to be near her – he’d take the mission. Didn’t he always?

‘A few ground rules before you go,’ Reginald said.

‘I’ve been at this a bit too long for ground rules, don’t you think?’ Thomas picked up the folder and walked out of the shop.

* * *

An hour later, after a stifling bus ride and a somewhat circuitous cab ride in the gruelling sticky heat, Thomas stood in front of Cat’s house in Bloomsbury, gathering his courage to walk up the steps and ring the buzzer. What if her attitude was ambivalent? Could he cope with her utter lack of caring? All he needed to do was lay his eyes on her and he would know how things stood between them. If she harboured the slightest affection for him, he would be able to see it on her face. And if he didn’t see anything? It was time to level with Cat, and, if necessary, walk away, Reginald be damned. He wouldn’t torture himself by continuing to work side by side with this woman. Unrequited love didn’t suit Thomas, and he had no intention of suffering through it. No, if Cat didn’t want him, he’d end the relationship. After they moved north and Cat and Annie were safely away from the impending disaster that would be London, Thomas would rescind his request for an easier job and let Reginald find him something all-consuming and dangerous, a job that would require all of his focus just to stay alive. Once he forgot Cat, he would end his relationship with Sir Reginald for good. If he survived.

He took a deep breath, hurried up the stairs and was met there by Annie and Aunt Lydia as they stumbled out the front door. Cat’s aunt illustrated a popular children’s book series. She claimed she did this to pay the bills, but that her still-lifes were her passion. An influential collector had become enamoured with Lydia’s work last year, and now she was enjoying success. He watched the two women, surprised to find that he had missed them as well. Each of them carried a canvas under one arm, an easel under the other, along with matching tote bags slung over their shoulders. The box that held Annie’s gas mask threatened to fall out of her tote. Lydia – as was her custom – wore a pair of men’s dress trousers in a grey pinstripe, covered with a loose-fitting button-up shirt. At one time, the shirt was a fine custom-made affair, probably worn by a solicitor or banker. Thomas often wondered where Lydia obtained the fine men’s clothing that she painted in. He had asked Cat about this once. Her comment had surprised him. ‘Oh, from her lovers, probably. She’s had her share of them.’ He shouldn’t have been surprised. Splotches of paint cascaded down the front of this particular shirt. Lydia’s hair, as wild and curly as Cat’s, was piled on top of her head and held in place by two criss-crossed paint brushes.

Annie Havers had started out as a maid in the Carlisle house before Cat’s husband was murdered. After the case was solved, Cat had taken Annie with her, offering her a job as a paid companion. They had become close, and now Annie was Cat’s ward. Cat confessed to Thomas that she wanted to adopt Annie, but Annie was loyal to her mother. The girl was 16 years old now and blossoming into a young woman. Thomas watched her fuss with her tote bag. Her movements held an acquired grace that Thomas recognized as a mimicry of Cat’s easy elegance. Cat’s influence was further reflected in the fine yet understated linen skirt and blouse Annie wore. The sight of Annie, the way she had grown stronger while under Cat’s care, touched his heart.

‘Hello, Annie.’ He smiled at her.

Her face broke into a big smile. ‘Oh, hello! You’ve come back. Miss Catherine will be ever so pleased. I’ll just go and tell her.’ She dropped the canvas and easel and ran into the house. Thomas just saw her duck down the staircase which led to the basement kitchen.

Thomas cast a sheepish glance at Lydia. ‘How is she, Lydia?’ Thomas had learned early on not to mince words with Cat’s aunt. The woman had the intuition of a witch, coupled with a rapier wit and an equally sharp tongue.

‘Lonely. Missing you,’ Lydia said. ‘And don’t act so surprised. She’s been out of her mind with worry. We read about the King’s harrowing escape, being chased across Norway in the snow with Nazis on his trail. I assume you were involved in that?’ Her eyes went to his shoulder.

‘I got shot. Infection. Forced hospitalization.’

‘You could have written,’ Lydia said.

‘May I come in?’ Thomas asked. He wasn’t in the mood for Lydia’s diatribes. They had a tendency to be blunt, prescient, and to the point.

‘Of course.’ Cat’s voice rang through the dark hallway. She appeared out of the dim gloom of the hallway, with Annie at her feet. His heart squeezed at the sight of her. ‘Lydia, let the poor man in.’

She came towards him, hands outstretched, a smile on her face. ‘Thomas—’ She took one look at his shoulder and stopped in her tracks. ‘What’s happened?’

Lydia said, ‘We’re going. We’ll be back later. It’s too hot to eat dinner, so don’t bother with it.’ Lydia ushered Annie out the door, shoving the canvas and easel into her arms.

‘Be careful,’ Cat said.

‘We will. Don’t worry,’ Annie said. She held up her gas mask, smiled at Thomas, and trotted after Lydia.

Cat and Thomas watched as they walked down the sidewalk.

‘Come in. Let’s go down to the kitchen. It’s cooler down there.’