A Time of Secrets (29 page)

‘He – he’s not himself this morning.’

I snapped at her, ‘He’s exactly like himself.’

I got my temper under control, and with it the shaking. ‘Violet, I know the type. Why ever did you take him back? Even if you didn’t want to stay with Lieutenant Ross, you’re so pretty and so talented, you can do so much better than Lance Cole.’

A stubborn expression came over her face. I knew all about that, too.

‘I’m sorry he frightened you,’ she said. ‘He – it was a joke, really. He doesn’t know how strong he is.’

I moved towards the door, shaking my head. She started to ascend the stairs.

‘Violet . . .’ She looked at me, the expression in her eyes defensive and wary. ‘If you ever need to talk, I do understand.’

*

Ross called me into his office later that morning. He’d been given the transcriptions of the wireless reports from Operation Destro and we pored over them together.

About a week into the mission the Australian wireless operator, Bill Ellis, radioed to say that Avila had invited his mistress to join the party, together with servants and porters. The group now numbered around thirty and Bill thought it was too large and too unwieldy to operate effectively. He said that Avila refused to consult him on operational matters and Bill relied on the Portuguese wireless operator, Luis, for information.

By early March, Ellis was obviously very worried and frustrated. He reported that the mission was ‘a bloody farce’ and it was impossible to continue. He begged Cole to send flying boats to evacuate the party. Cole replied that evacuation was impossible, but said that he’d arrange for Bill to be promoted to lieutenant. Cole signalled to him:
Stick it out, Bill. Try to avoid an open breach with Avila. We feel certain Destro will turn out to be a good show
.

A week later Ellis again requested the evacuation of ‘Avila and his circus’, saying that the situation was desperate because the Timorese natives were too afraid to feed or hide them. He said they were starving and he feared Japanese capture was imminent.

I read the transmissions with an increasing sense of horror. ‘He’s in a terrible mess,’ I said to Ross. ‘What was Cole thinking? He should have evacuated them.’

Ross considered this. ‘You’re right, of course, but it takes a phenomenal amount of planning to place an operation like Destro. Cole’s reputation would have been mud if it had been aborted so soon.’

I went back to the papers. After Bill Ellis’s last desperate request to be evacuated, there were no transmissions until, on the twelfth of April, there was a signal from Bill Ellis that read:
12 April 1943. Our position very serious. Are hiding near Obaqui. Have not eaten for three days. Send supplies
.

I looked up at Ross again. ‘This is the transmission sent in clear text, and not in cipher? The one Helen thought wasn’t in his usual fist?’

He nodded.

I went back to reading the messages.

The next day Cole received a transmission from Avila:
Continue big pursue against us. Operator Luis run away. We lost cipher book
.

‘Why didn’t Cole look into it, at least consider the possibility that the mission had been compromised and the messages were fake?’ I waved at the papers on the desk. ‘Doesn’t Molloy think these messages are odd?’

‘He’s seen all of this, and sees nothing wrong. After that everything seemed to settle down. Molloy told me that it was clear Ellis and Avila had their problems to start with, but they’d been resolved.’ Ross’s laugh was short and bitter. ‘Cole would never admit that there was a problem with Destro. Instead he organised a drop of food and supplies. And he didn’t stop my mission, Kestrel, or the later mission, Eagle, from being dispatched.’

‘What actually happened with Kestrel, sir?’

‘We were saved because we landed in the wrong place, about five miles from the drop site. Eric got a bad feeling as we made our way back towards where we thought Bill and the Destro party would be waiting.’ He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘I really should learn to take notice of Eric’s bad feelings,’ he said.

I thought of Eric’s sudden, vivid smile, and grief was like a physical blow somewhere deep inside my chest. Ross was still talking, and I forced myself to listen.

‘. . . so he wanted us to go all the way around and come in from the back. I was worried about the time we’d already lost and insisted that we continue straight to the drop site.’

Ross fell silent. I looked at him.

‘We walked straight into a nest of Japanese,’ he said. His jaw was tight and he was staring at the papers on the desk with a fixed expression.

I waited for him to continue, and after a few seconds he gave a small shiver. Still not looking at me, he started to talk again. ‘I’d wanted to lead a field mission. I should have been able to do it. I’m fit enough, brave enough, smart enough. I’m not the sort of officer who connects well with the men, but that didn’t matter, officers don’t need to win popularity contests. I thought I’d be fine. Only, when we were in the thick of it . . . Well, it was clear that I simply didn’t have what it takes.’

His face relaxed into his usual expression of rather mocking insouciance as he busied himself with pulling out a packet of cigarettes, removing one, striking a match, inhaling, all the while avoiding my eyes.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

‘Eric opened fire and sprinted off to draw the Japanese away. The rest of us scattered. It was bloody mayhem.’

He drew in a long breath, and blew out smoke slowly.

‘Eric doubled back and caught up with Mike Teague. He left Mike in a position he thought was safe, and asked him to radio base, ask for us to be extracted. We all assumed that Destro had been compromised, you see. One by one, Eric found us and got us into a safe position.’ Ross had a contemptuous look on his face. ‘It was not my finest hour. I’m not the tactician he is and, quite frankly, Stella, I’m not as brave.’

I thought of Eric, drawing enemy fire, keeping the men as a cohesive unit in the midst of chaos.

Ross’s expression had darkened. ‘Eric thought that Mike was safe, but found him near death when he went back for him. Mike had managed to get a radio message through, and because of that they sent the Catalina flying boat to collect us that night.’

‘It seems obvious that the Japanese knew you were coming.’

‘The court martial found otherwise. Messages from Destro indicated that it was just bad luck that a Jap patrol was near the drop site. If we’d landed where we should have, we’d all have been caught immediately.’ He ran his hand across his face in a weary gesture. ‘The Japs destroyed two native villages that were going to assist us. Killed scores of people.’

‘You couldn’t help that.’

He shrugged.

‘And despite what happened to you, the Eagle party were put into position a month later?’

‘The codes for Eagle have all been correct.’

‘But they would be, if they’d been captured as soon as they arrived.’

‘Exactly.’ He stubbed out his cigarette firmly. ‘Will Corporal Avery speak to Captain Molloy about what she told you?’

‘No. She’s terrified of Cole. Thinks Molloy won’t believe her and she’ll be demoted and sent away.’

‘We’ll have to keep looking for some proof, then.’ I could see the fatigue etched in the lines around his eyes. ‘The Indigo Alpha party is due to be sent up there in ten days.’

Indigo Alpha was the first of a major four-part intelligence-gathering operation in Timor, codenamed Indigo Light. Four groups of four men were to be inserted by parachute drop into different areas of the island. Each would stay for eight weeks, gathering intelligence and trying to recruit local people to assist in the Allied war effort.

‘Sir,’ I said, lowering my voice, even though we were alone, ‘do you think Lieutenant Cole is a traitor?’

Ross rubbed a hand across his face and his shoulders seemed to slump. ‘I don’t think so – I don’t know. All I do know is that I don’t want the men of Indigo Alpha parachuting straight into a Japanese trap the way we did.’

He looked up and I was shocked to see the misery in his eyes.

I said, hesitantly, ‘We’ll find something. If Destro has been compromised, we’ll find something to convince Captain Molloy.’

He nodded and as I left his office I had a feeling that, for the first time, I’d had a glimpse of the real Nick Ross. That afternoon he’d been focused and professional and able to discuss his shortcomings without seeking pity. There had been no sign of the ‘lady-killer’ who tried to charm me and seemed always to be playing a role. Did he see me, finally, as a colleague he could trust? I smiled to myself when I entered my office. Perhaps Nick Ross and I might even end up as friends.

Twenty-six

I
took Mrs Campbell’s hand in mine and gently stroked the paper-thin skin that was covered in a mass of wrinkles. The hand was older than any I’d ever held before and I was in awe of it. Mrs Campbell had been born in 1854. Queen Victoria had been on the throne for only seventeen of what would be sixty-four years as Queen and Empress. Women had worn corsets and crinolines; there had been no motor vehicles, no aeroplanes, no telephones, no wireless. The world had been an entirely different place.

She’d asked me in for a cup of tea when she saw me returning from work that evening. We’d been having a delightful time together until she mentioned hearing noises at night, near her back door. When I’d pressed her on the issue, she’d tried to change the subject by talking about her childhood near Loch Lomond in Scotland.

‘We’d put out a saucer of milk on the back step every night for the brownies,’ she said. ‘My mother always did when I was a child. And it would always be gone by morning.’

‘The brownies?’

Mrs Campbell took another sip of tea and nodded vigorously. The jet beads in her bonnet jiggled around her face when she did so and there was mischief in her eyes. ‘Wee elves. My father would be angry that she did it. He said it wasna a Presbyterian thing to do.’ She smiled. ‘I think it was probably the barn cats that drank it, but my granny swore it was the wee folk.’

‘Mrs Campbell, we both know there are no elves or brownies. These noises you’ve been hearing . . . do you think that real intruders – human intruders – are coming in at night? Is anything missing?’

Mrs Campbell’s face closed up in a frown. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. Maybe it’s a dog sniffing around the bins.’

‘Maybe,’ I said.

I was worried about her being alone in the flat at night. I stood and went over to her large display case. When I peered at the shelves, there seemed to be less silver than when I’d last looked, but I really couldn’t tell for sure.

‘Is the caudle cup there?’ Her voice was crisp and there was no vagueness in
that
question.

I checked. ‘Yes. It’s there.’

‘So much silver,’ she said. ‘I canna remember it all, sometimes. They’re my husband’s treasures. He bought them all.’

I nodded in response. There was a great deal of silver jumbled together on the shelves, but I couldn’t help the nagging feeling that there was less than when I’d looked some weeks ago. The really valuable pieces still seemed to be there, though. I rubbed the back of my neck to relieve tight muscles.

‘Do you mind if I check the windows and doors to make sure that they’re all secure?’

I left her sitting on the sofa as I went through the flat to check the locks. I could see no evidence of anyone having broken in. It all seemed very secure. Too secure. Now I was worried about how she’d get out of the place if there were a fire.

I went back into the lounge room. Mrs Campbell was perched on the side of the sofa, surrounded by books and plucking at the fabric of her long woollen dress.

I sat beside her and took her hand again. ‘Would you mind if I held a spare key to your flat? Then I could drop in whenever I was worried.’ I didn’t want to mention fire, in case she became panicked.

She turned her face towards me. Her eyes were small and set deeply into a wrinkled face and the pupils were a bright golden-green colour that reminded me of sunshine in leaves. I thought they were beautiful.

‘I lost the spare key,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to have another cut.’

‘Do you have an inventory of your silver and books?’

She nodded. ‘Our solicitor, Mr McLaughlin, he has an inventory.’

‘Good. Should we write to him and ask for a copy, just to make sure that it’s all here?’

‘If you think it’s best, dear.’ Her face brightened. ‘Another girl was attacked by that axe man on the weekend.’

‘Really?’ I said. ‘Was it in the paper?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Mrs Campbell. ‘On Wednesday night. At a boarding house in Albert Park.’ She put her head to the side, as if she was considering. ‘A twenty-five-year-old shop assistant. She’s in critical care.’ She shuddered. ‘They’re so difficult to remove from linen, bloodstains.’

‘First St Kilda, now Albert Park. He’s getting closer to us, this axe man,’ I said.

‘Make sure you keep your flat locked up tight and I will, too. Now, Stella, sit here beside me.’ When I sat next to her, she was very serious. ‘I want to talk to you about that horrible man.’