A Death for King and Country (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

In which I have a cosy chat with a farmer’s wife

I flew out of my seat and tried the door. As I feared, it did not budge. My heart was beating too fast, but I tried to slow my breathing and calm myself. I turned round slowly and assessed my surroundings more clearly. There was no other door. The window had a wire net fastened across it. I also noted that the room had cobwebs around the chimney stack and dirt in the corners. I had never been to a pig farm before, but all the other farmer’s wives I had met in my childhood when my father was vicar of Sweet Meadow Parish had taken enormous pride in their homes. Almost as if they were trying to counter the inevitable chaos of the farmyard outside.

This farm did not make sense. There were undeniably many pigs here, but a farmer’s wife who pretended to bake? A dirty farmhouse? A man who did not like his animals to be seen? And even the strange layout of the house. The cumulative effect of these facts made me sure that Fitzroy had been, and hopefully was still, kept here.

What shocked me the most was that a woman was involved in his kidnap. But then I was supposedly the head of his rescue operation.

Now, that was laughable. If Fitzroy was to be believed, which was always questionable, he was one of the chief players in his department and involved in affairs of the nation abroad. That he should have Bertram, Rory, and myself as his rescuers boded ill for all of us. If only he had passed on to us a fraction of his skills as opposed to simply hushing us with the Official Secrets Act. A hairpin that had been dislodged by my leaping up fell to the ground. I picked it up. How hard could it be to pick a lock with one of these?

As it turned out, very hard. I ended up snapping the pin in half and spending what felt like a very long time trying to fish the remnants out with the other half before the farmer’s wife returned and found the lock jammed.

I ended up with one end in my teeth, while I broke several of my fingernails in the lock and dirtied my skirt on the floor. The actual skill of picking locks had to be easier than this. The final piece fell out just as I heard footsteps in the corridor. I kicked the shards into the corner and scurried back to my seat. From outside the door I heard the clinking of crockery shifting on a tray. The much-mentioned cup of tea was finally arriving. However, balancing a tray and unlocking a door is not easy. My instinct was to get up and hold the door open (when it was unlocked) to help, but the more critical part of me rebelled against doing anything to help my captor. Besides, I did not want her to realise that I knew the door had been locked. So I stayed where I was and prepared my most innocent expression.

The clinking became more frantic and just as I was tensing myself for the crash of a dropped tray the door flew open.

‘Wretched thing,’ said the woman. For a moment I thought she was referring to me, but she crossed the room and beamed at me. ‘’Cuse me putting this down on the floor. Derek’s got the table out the back for fixing. We had a big order in recently. Derek was slaughtering day and night, so I ended up feeding the pigs. I’m all behind in the house. What must you think of us?’

I took the cup she offered me. ‘I think that you and your husband run a most successful business. I am sure your produce is excellent.’

The smile grew broader. ‘So you’re the cook of the house. You’re mighty young for such a post. Your employer is a lord, your husband said.’

My brain worked furiously. ‘I wasn’t meant to be the cook,’ I said. ‘I met Rory at the country fair, and with him being in service – well, you know how it is, we had to marry quickly if we wanted to be together. His master was kind enough to offer me a position as an under-cook. His own cook was getting on in years and he thought she could train me up over time to replace her. Only she did not take it that well.’

‘Walked out, did she?’

‘She didn’t like me from the off, nor the thought of being replaced even though she was getting on in years, but when the master said he was set on coming down here it was the last straw. She said there was no way she was moving away from her people. They parted on bad terms and now the cooking is all down to me.’

I opened my eyes very wide and tried to look overwhelmed. ‘The truth is, I can cook a good meal for my own family, but I am spending day and night poring over the old recipes the cook left behind. You wouldn’t have a good recipe for pork belly, would you, ma’am? Only I know it’s one of the master’s favourites and I will have to make it very soon.’

‘Oh, you poor little thing,’ said the woman. ‘What a pickle you’re in. If I didn’t have the kitchen so full of baking I’d take you through and let you copy out some of my recipes.’

‘Oh, I would not mind the mess, ma’am. That would be so helpful.’

‘You might not mind it, but I have my pride.’

‘I do understand what with your husband being so busy.’

‘Just married, are you?’ she asked.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘I’m sorry to say it but you will find husbands a right trial. The things they can get you embroiled in if you take my meaning. A sweet young thing like you too.’

‘I am sure Rory will know what is best for me,’ I said though the words stuck in my throat.

‘You be careful, dear. That man of yours is a wrong ’un. Take it from one that knows. Don’t you let him be leading you down the wrong path. Can happen all too easy and all too quick.’ She blushed slightly and turned her face away. Then reaching into her apron pocket she produced two biscuits. ‘Fancy one? I always keep a little treat by me for when I’m feeling low.’

The biscuit she proffered was large and covered with lint from her apron pocket. It looked more like the kind of thing you would feed a pig. I was spared the necessity of taking the thing as the parlour door opened and Derek stalked in, closely followed by Rory. The woman shoved the biscuits quickly back in her pocket.

‘Most interesting,’ Rory was saying. ‘I will be happy to recommend you to my master.’

‘Nothing but the best pork here,’ said Derek. ‘We supply the White Star liners, you know.’

‘Really?’ said Rory, feigning astonishment. ‘That is a very high recommendation and I am even more indebted to you for taking the time to show me over your farm. Come, Effy, it is time for us to go. We have taken up more than enough of these good people’s time.’

I stood up. The woman looked at her husband. Some unseen communication passed between them and Derek moved away from the door. Rory and I uttered our thanks once more and we left. It took all my effort not to run to the automobile. Rory started the engine and climbed up beside me.

‘Goodness,’ I said as he drove down the driveway, ‘I never thought we would get through that unsuspected.’

‘We dinnae,’ said Rory. ‘Did ye not notice they never asked the name of our master nor where our house was. They knew we were not who we were pretending to be.’

‘So why did they let us go?’

‘I have nae idea,’ said Rory. ‘And that’s what’s bothering me.

Chapter Twenty-five

In which Bertram and Rory make a plan and it goes as well as one would expect

‘What did you discover?’ I asked.

‘Not now,’ said Rory. ‘Wait until we are back at the hotel and we can talk freely.’

Rory drove away from the farm for some distance then looped back to pick up Bertram. He and Bertram hefted the alarmingly still carpet into the baggage compartment while I packed up the picnic things as quickly as I could. There was very little food left. Bertram must have made a real pig of himself.

We drove back towards the hotel, but rather than going directly there at one point much nearer the town Rory pulled over by a hedgerow.

‘Stay in the automobile, Euphemia,’ he warned.

‘Yes, no peeking,’ said Bertram.

I coloured deeply, thinking that both men must be going to answer the call of nature and also thinking how very much easier men have it with so many things. I crossed my legs and told myself I would be back soon. The carpet in the back moaned and shifted slightly. I sighed with relief. At least Bertram had not beaten the man to death with his shoe.

The men returned in short order. Now both of them were dressed in poor, well-worn clothes.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ I protested. ‘The hotel will never let you in looking like that!’

‘Now, Euphemia, no complaining. Rory and I have talked it over and it is the only way to deal with the situation.’

‘What is?’ I asked.

‘You haven’t told her?’ asked Bertram.

‘I can hardly do so with him listening.’

‘He won’t be able to hear anything when I close the door,’ said Bertram.

Rory shot him an evil look.

‘Oh yes, well, I suppose there is always a chance,’ babbled Bertram. ‘Better you don’t know for now, Euphemia.’

I would have protested further, but Rory was cranking the engine into life and no one would have heard me. Whatever it was, the men had decided something between them and had determined that I would not like it. The chances were they were right. I felt all the fight go out of me. I had been more on edge than I realised at the farmhouse, and according to Rory it had all been to no avail. I closed my eyes and shut the world out. I felt exhausted and hopeless. Above all I felt unequal to further arguments.

We stopped. I did not recognise the road. Bertram and Rory lifted out the carpet and carried it off between them. I had no idea what they had planned, but I knew they would not harm the man inside. I hoped they were going to leave their unusual delivery outside a police station. Hopefully, we were far enough away from the town of Southampton that we would not be traced by our descriptions.

It was then I saw a ship mast pass behind a tree. We were by the docks. My first thought was that we were also by the tea-shop. I scrambled down and made my way quickly across the docks to answer my own call of nature. I emerged from the tea-shop’s facilities feeling much more capable of facing the world.

Then I saw them.

Bertram and Rory, the carpet slung between them, trotting up the gangplank of a cargo ship and disappearing into the hold.

I could not intervene without giving them both away, so I made my way back to the automobile. I did not get into my seat, but paced back and forth in front of the vehicle. I worked myself into a furious temper, so when I heard the ring of nailed boots behind me on the road I swung round full of angry accusations.

The words died on my lips as I saw the man who had emerged onto the road from some tall bushes. He was no-one I had ever seen before. A jagged scar ran down his right cheek like a villain out of a story book and in his hands he held a sack. I had hardly time to cry out before the sack descended over my head and my feet were swept out from beneath me.

Of course, I fought back. I kicked and screamed and even tried to bite through the sack. I wiggled from side to side so much I almost fell from his shoulders. I was unceremoniously dumped on a hard floor. Then I felt a blow to the back of my head and everything went dark.

What awoke me was the smell.

‘Pig shit,’ said a familiar voice. ‘Guaranteed to bring the most unconscious person back to the land of the living.’

Cords bound my wrists and ankles. I opened my eyes and a blinding pain shot through my head. I was lying in straw, facing a dirty wall. Light filtered in from bars behind me, making a shuttered effect.

‘So what is the plan to rescue me?’ asked Fitzroy. ‘Knife in your boot? Dare I hope for a gun?’

‘Where are we?’ I asked.’

‘Damn,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Not quite the answer that I was hoping for. We’re on a pig farm, Euphemia, scheduled to be pig food.’

‘They must have followed us when we left,’ I groaned. I began to inch myself up to a sitting position.

‘You came here?’ gasped Fitzroy. ‘I don’t know if I am more impressed by your tracking ability, your bravado, or your damn stupidity.’

I pushed myself up with difficulty on my elbows.

‘How about your stupidity in getting caught in the first place,’ I said. Then I caught sight of his face. His eyes were ringed with black. One was so puffed up the eye was completely closed. There was a deep cut on his cheek. Blood oozed from between his teeth. Under it all he was paler than snow. One arm hung awkwardly by his side, broken. My gaze followed the arm down. The fingers on his right hand were twisted and broken. His shirt was torn open and there was blood on his chest. The cheery voice was misleading.

‘Dear God,’ I said. ‘What have they done to you?’

‘Oh, you know,’ said Fitzroy, ‘just a little bit of torture between friends.’

‘What do they want?’

‘I cannot possibly tell you that. They might still be listening and then all my efforts would be in vain.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I am sorry about this, my dear, but it is not going to end well for either of us.’

‘What on earth do they want me for?’

Fitzroy looked down at his boots with his one good eye. ‘My apologies again.’

‘Oh,’ I said as the truth sunk it. ‘They think you will help them if they promise to let me go free.’

‘I am afraid it is worse than that, Euphemia. These are very ruthless people.’

I looked at him blankly. ‘I suspect,’ said Fitzroy heavily, ‘that they think even if torture has not worked on me if might work on you.’

‘But I don’t know anything,’ I squeaked.

‘No,’ said Fitzroy. ‘they will be counting on me to be the gentleman and save you from your fate.’

‘But you can’t,’ I said.

‘No,’ said Fitzroy, ‘much as part of me might like to, I cannot sacrifice the safety of the nation to save you, no matter what they do.’ He swallowed hard here. ‘Damn it, Euphemia, why did you have to get yourself caught? You’re smarter than this.’

‘It was not intentional,’ I said shortly.

‘My dear girl, you have no idea what they are likely to do to you.’

‘I am not afraid of pain,’ I said.

Fitzroy’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.

‘I fear that will be the least of it. These people are without any moral scruples.’

Chapter Twenty-six

In which Bertram and Rory cook bacon

‘Maybe Rory and Bertram will rescue us,’ I said.

Fitzroy chuckled. The effort obviously cost him some pain. ‘Ouch, Euphemia. You do know how to keep a man’s spirits up.’

‘Rory told me he knew the farmer and his wife did not believe our story.’

‘That’s good. Does he know how to contact my department?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Not so good then. You do have a way of bringing a man highs and lows in quick succession.’

‘They found the man who was bribed down at the docks.’

‘Ah, I did wonder how you found me. It had to be more than chance.’

‘We worked it out,’ I said with dignity.

‘I apologise. I do not mean to belittle your achievements.’

‘Sadly, they appear to have come to naught.’

‘It is rather nice to have some company,’ said Fitzroy. ‘You are always excellent company, Euphemia. Did you enjoy my letters?’

‘The ones I have read so far were most informative.’

‘I should have known you would not read ahead,’ said the spy with another chuckle. ‘You have such a strong code of conduct. It really is your only flaw.’

‘What do we do now?’ I asked.

‘Wait. Pray for a miracle. I lost my knife carving one of their faces.’

‘That must have been the man who kidnapped me.’

‘I should have been more careful. To think I should have been luxuriating on an ocean liner. I imagine it will be in the US by now. I have had some trouble keeping track of time.’

‘Of course, you do not know!’ I cried. ‘The
Titanic
sank. Less than one-third of the people on board survived.’

‘It sank,’ echoed Fitzroy hollowly. ‘That’s not possible.’

‘It was assumed you were lost at sea.’

‘That’s why no one came. I was beginning to feel somewhat unappreciated … Why did you come, then?’

‘You asked me to check if you were dead. The only way I could think of that meant you were still alive would be if you had not got on board the ship. So we came down to Southampton to see if we could find proof that you had got on board.’

‘Wait a minute. Back up,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Do you mean you brought Stapleford junior and the butler into my private affairs?’

‘I would not be here if I had not.’

‘That’s not a recommendation,’ said Fitzroy. ‘God, what a mess.’

‘Will they really torture me?’ I asked. ‘It felt almost as if the farmer’s wife was trying to warn me.’ I told Fitzroy what had happened in the parlour. ‘That’s good,’ said Fitzroy, ‘we might be able to persuade her to let you go. She doesn’t sound as if she’s one of the Kaiser’s most loyal servants.’

‘Kaiser?’ I asked astonished.

Fitzroy nodded carefully. ‘You have fallen into what we in the trade call a sleeper cell. The people you have met are either English or have lived in England a very long time, but their sympathy is with Germany. This farm has probably been running for decades. It is certainly a large business from what I saw of it. The Germans will have funded them in exchange for future favours.’

‘Treason!’ I exclaimed.

‘From a British point of view, yes, but they may be descended from Germans. They may consider themselves patriots or they may merely be trying to save their skins because they are confident Germany will win the coming war.’

‘Will they?’ I asked.

‘Hopefully British pluck will prevail,’ said Fitzroy with a lopsided smile. ‘But I do expect there will be a catastrophic loss of life.’

‘Can’t you stop it?’

‘My dear Euphemia, what exactly do you think I have been doing with my life? I have no shares in banking or arms. My sole aim has been to serve His Majesty and do my best to prevent war if I can. But I am afraid, my dear, sometimes there is nothing for it, but to fight.’

‘Can you smell bacon?’ I asked suddenly.

‘You can smell it too? I thought I was hallucinating.’

Fitzroy was in no state to stand, so I began to inch myself up into a standing position using the filthy wall.

‘Listen, Euphemia, this is important. If you get the chance, run. Do not think about me. Run and get as far away from here as you can.’

‘I am not leaving you behind.’

‘Very noble, but I am probably already dead from internal injuries. Besides, I signed up for this. You did not.’

‘You are an important asset to His Majesty and as a citizen of His Majesty’s Kingdom it is my duty to do my best to save you.’

‘Oh you ridiculous girl,’ said Fitzroy, half laughing, half angry. ‘There is no way …’

He stopped as we both heard a bolt being drawn back.

‘Quick, Euphemia, pretend to be unconscious,’ whispered Fitzroy urgently. As I had just reached standing height there was no way I could obey before the door opened. The farmer’s wife stood in the doorway. She had a kitchen knife in her hand. She threw it at me. I tried to dodge but I was tied up tight.

The knife landed at my feet and the woman vanished, leaving the door open.

‘So she’s not prepared to leave us to burn. Nice woman. Or weak stomach, depending on your point of view,’ said Fitzroy, stretching out his leg towards the weapon and falling short. ‘Don’t just look at it, Euphemia, kick that knife over here.’

I managed to nudge the knife in his direction and within seconds he had managed to free himself. He cut my cords. ‘Go on, get out of here.’

I put one arm round his waist and slung his other over my shoulder. He was so weak he could not resist.

‘We are both leaving,’ I said.

‘Other side,’ commanded Fitzroy. ‘My left arm still works. I can throw the knife if need be.’

‘I can’t put your broken arm…’

‘Yes, you bloody well can. If you are going to try and rescue me it will be on my terms or not at all,’ yelled Fitzroy in my ear.

I did as I was bid, though I heard him grunt with pain. I headed for the door. The smell of bacon was stronger now and there were sounds of animals panicking.

‘They’ve set the damn place on fire, haven’t they, your boyfriends?’ said Fitzroy. ‘I hope to God they have some idea of where we are. I’d hate to have gone through all that only to end up like a kipper.’

I dragged us both out into the passageway. Fitzroy was trying to support himself as much as he could, but he was very heavy against me. We could not move quickly. I prayed that Bertram and Rory had set the fire some distance from us. There was no possibility of us being able to outrun flames if they were close by.
[23]

At the end of the passageway I could see the outside. The woman had left the door open behind her.

‘Where are we?’ I asked Fitzroy.

‘At the back of the house block,’ he answered. ‘If you go for that door we will have to make our way around the entire building.’

‘You want us to go further in?’

‘Let us hope the fire has not been set too close to the house. Our best chance is the side door. It leads directly on to the driveway.’

‘The way we came in. But which direction? I am all turned round.’

‘That way,’ nodded Fitzroy. ‘Let us hope everyone else is out saving the pigs.’ He gripped the knife in his hand more firmly.

We edged along the corridor. Then from up ahead came shouts. ‘Back! Back!’ commanded Fitzroy. ‘We’ll have to go out the other way.’ He put on a surprising turn of speed. We made it out of the open door and into the sunlight. Fitzroy breathed heavily and almost fainted.

‘Not sure I can go much further,’ he said.

Behind us from the house I could hear the sound of running feet. In front of us were rows upon rows of pig pens. Smoke was drifting across them. I could not see the actual fire, but I smelled burning pig flesh. The animals were going mad in their stalls. ‘Come on,’ I said to Fitzroy. ‘We’re almost there.’

‘You are a most annoying girl,’ muttered the spy, and gritted his teeth, but it was clear his strength was failing. I could not hold him. He was slipping from my grasp, when miraculously Bertram appeared running round the side of the building, quickly followed by Rory.

‘Help me!’ I yelled. They rushed over and took an arm each to hold up Fitzroy.

‘We have to go that way,’ said Bertram, indicating the way they had come. ‘The fire’s taken hold on the other side.’

I needed no further encouragement and led the way, with the two of them half dragging, half carrying Fitzroy. Behind us I could hear footsteps. I took a turn to the left, hoping to lose our pursuers by not taking the most direct route. This proved to be a major mistake.

I ran down the row, thinking to turn at the corner, except there was no corner. We had come up against the back fence of the farm. It was wood and brick, like the sides of the sties.

‘Back!’ I yelled to the others, ‘back!’ But it was too late. Derek, plus the scarred man, and three other men looking equally fierce, blocked our exit. We were trapped.

[23]
I did not doubt Rory and Bertram had set the fire. The plan was so ridiculous and flawed it had to be theirs.