Blackest of Lies (11 page)

Fitzgerald, although annoyed by the interruption, surprised them both by agreeing.  “You are right, of course, Hubert.”  He turned to Farmer.  “
You
, then, were born on ...”

**********

At about half past three that afternoon, Kell received a telephone call in his Strand office from Miss Joan Thorpe, Kitchener’s secretary, to request an immediate interview.  Fifteen minutes later and she was sitting in front of him, looking slightly dishevelled.  Kell spent some minutes settling her down and ordering tea.  It was one of the few anomalies of his character that he was cold, logical and calculating when dealing in matters of duty but was considerate to a fault when interacting professionally with ladies – particularly so, in this instance.  Her red eyes told volumes.  It was an open secret at the War Office that she had been
very
fond of her employer.  Like Fitzgerald, she had no love for the idea of making use of an impostor but understood the practical realities of the situation.

“Now, Miss Thorpe, you had something to discuss?”

“Indeed I have.  I don’t know if you have heard that the Russian court has been angling to have Lord Kitchener pay them a visit?”

“I have not.  I am surprised, nevertheless, but I’m responsible only for
internal
security, as you know.  What happens beyond our shores is handled by Cumming and MI6.  But carry on.”

“I know that Lord Kitchener received a personal invitation from Czar Nicholas to go to St Petersburg and that His Lordship had indicated that, although he was agreeable to the proposition, it was a matter that could not be contemplated in our current emergency.  One could hardly expect the Minister for War to go off on a trip in the current crisis.  But he could not make the decision on his own.  It would depend on both Governments discussing matters.  All that was set in motion before … before ...” She lowered her head by slow degrees and, from nowhere, a handkerchief appeared, unbidden, in her hand.

“Please don’t distress yourself, Miss Thorpe.”

“Thank you.  I’m fine, Major Kell.  Excuse me.”

“Please don’t apologise.  Now then, you were saying.”

“Yes.  I was saying that initial approaches were made to secure the visit.  The point is that we have just been informed that the Foreign Office has prepared a mission plan for higher authorities to approve.  I’m afraid it might expose the realities of the situation.”

“When is Lord Kitchener supposed to arrive in Russia?” asked Kell.

“Around the ninth of June.”

“This could be just what we need,” said Kell, half to himself.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, Miss Thorpe.  I was talking to myself, I’m afraid.”  He tidied an already tidy pile of documents.  “How advanced are the arrangements?”

“As far as I am aware, nothing firm has been done at this early stage.  Of course, the Prime Minister will have to sanction the trip.  Possibly even the King, himself.”

“Absolutely.”  He paused in thought.  “Well, Miss Thorpe, I am extremely grateful that you brought this to my attention.  You know that ‘Lord Kitchener’ will be with you tomorrow?”

“I do,” she said, without enthusiasm.

Kell felt the mercury dropping.  “Do give him all the help you can, Miss Thorpe.  He is, I believe, a decent man out of his depth – which he knows – but he is also a man in great danger.”

“Danger?”

“Well, dear lady, you don’t think that the IRB will just give up once they work out that we are using a double, do you?”

**********

Farmer’s head was buzzing with facts and figures.  He had spent all morning trying to absorb details of Kitchener’s life – a brief history, which foods he preferred, how he walked, how he talked.  One day was not enough – nowhere
near
enough.  Fitzgerald had disappeared on estate business and Farmer was left, therefore, in the company of Hubert.

“Chris, this won’t do.  I’m struggling to remember even half of the things Fitzgerald’s been drumming into me!”

“Relax.  We’re not expecting you to start spouting off an autobiography as soon as you walk into the office.  Remember, you’re the taciturn one.  You speak only when necessary and, even then, short and to the point.  You give
orders
not explanations.”

“Really?”

“Well, of course you do!”

“I can’t even get
Shaw
to do what she’s told!”

Hubert laughed out loud.  “I remember it well!  Look, facts and figures are important – of course they are.  But what is more important is that you acquire the
character
of Kitchener.  That’s what will carry the whole thing off.  Just believe yourself to be the man and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

“Wish I had your confidence, old man.”

“I know, Henry.  It’s easy for me to rabbit on about what you should do, when it’s you that’s in the firing line.  But I’m here to advise.  I can
see
you – I can put myself in the position of someone meeting you for the first time in your character of the Secretary of State for War.  The question is – do I believe in you?  Or, if not, what do you have to do to convince me?  That’s where I make my contribution, if anywhere.  Does that bother you at all?”

“No, no, Chris.  All contributions gratefully received, as they say.  Am I finished for the day?”

Hubert grinned wolfishly.  “No! And nothing like it!  There’s a lot more in store for you.”

“Oh, God!  What, for instance?”

“Well, you are just about to take a turn around the grounds with me.”

“But I thought that I was supposed to be hush-hush, and all that.”

“
You
are but Kitchener isn’t.  You’re going out as himself.  And, if that goes well, we’ll take a stroll around Barham later on.  It’s not far.”

Despite Farmer’s continued misgivings, they went out on to the terrace and stood there for a while, absorbing the sunshine.  They went down the steps, past the ornate fountain and wandered off towards the rose bushes.  A figure was down on his hands and knees, grubbing about in the soil.  As they came closer, Hubert could see that it was Dudeney.

“Here’s your first real test, Henry.  If anyone, apart from the family, is going to see through you, it’ll be Dudeney here,” whispered Chris.  Then, in a louder voice, he said, “’Afternoon, Dudeney.  How’re the roses coming along?”

The old man took some time to get to his feet, groaning and creaking.  He turned round slowly.  “They’re comin’ along right proper, sir.  His Lordship would’ve been …”

At that point, he stopped and caught his breath.  He staggered a little so that Hubert had to dash forward and catch him.  Helped by Farmer, he sat him down on a garden bench a few yards away.

“Sorry, old man,” said Hubert, “we were too sudden for you.”

“I thought ... I thought …” whispered Dudeney, pointing at Farmer. Then, in a stronger voice, he nodded at Farmer and said, “I thought that you
were
His Lordship.”

“
Thought
, Dudeney?” asked Hubert.

“Just for a moment, sir, I thought his ghost was back with his flowers.  You’re very like him, sir.  Maybe there’s no-one else here that could spot you weren’t him.  But I could.” he said proudly.  “The Master and me were close.  ‘Cause of the roses.”

“Well then, Dudeney,” said Farmer, touched by the old man’s affection, “be close to me, too.  I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

“That I will.  You’re a brave man, an’ a good one, to do it.  The likes o’ them buggers won’t win, then.”

“So what gave me away?”

“Nothin’ particular, sir.  Just the way o’ standing, maybe.  It’s nearly there – enough to gimme a turn, I can tell you – it just needs a little practice.”

“What about his voice, Dudeney?  That’s not his own voice.  He’s trying to speak like Lord Kitchener.”

“I can see that, sir, and it’s good.  Fool most people, I reckon.  It’s just the way he stands and looks at you.  You know, his ... his
presence,
what you might call.  But His Lordship’s voice was a little higher than yours, sir.  That’s really the only thing.”

“Thanks for that, Dudeney,” said Hubert.  “That’s good advice.  I’m sorry we startled you but I knew that if any man could spot him, it’d be you.  And I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, sir.  That you were.”

“Now, look. I’m sure you can see that this is all to be kept quiet.  As far as you and everyone else is concerned, the Master is still alive and well.  That’s why Special Branch has kept everyone on the grounds.  No-one outside these walls knows what happened.  And that’s the way we want to keep it.  ‘His Lordship’ here is going to walk around a little more, just to get the feel of things.  Just keep an eye on us from time to time.  If he does anything that you think would give him away, let me know.”

“Right, sir.  It’d be a real pleasure.”

“Thanks.  If everything goes well, I intend taking him for a walk around the church at Barham.  That’ll be the first
real
test.  But I don’t want to do it unless
you
are satisfied that he’s up to it.  Understand?”

The old man fairly swelled with pride.  “Anything I can do to help, sir.  Just
anything
.  I’d be that proud to help.”

“Right, then”, said Hubert, “We’ll see you later.”

The two men walked off in silence.  Henry nodded in what he considered a suitable ‘Lord of the Manor’ fashion to other members of the ground staff, receiving astonished stares in return before the automatic tug of the cap appeared.  “You know, Chris, that was a fine thing you did for the old man.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know very well.  Letting him think he had an important part to play in all this.  It’ll take his mind off what happened here.”

“OK, that was partly my intention.  He’s a good old stick and deserved to see off the few years remaining to him in his Master’s service.  But there was more to it than that.”

“Oh, yes?” said Farmer, archly.

“Oh, yes!” mimicked Hubert.  “He
has
known him for some time.  That’s valuable.  He saw through you. 
Why
he did so, is important.  It’s obvious from what he said that you have the essentials already.  Not surprising, really, for you do look uncommonly like him, Henry.  Much more so than I remember from Netley.  You must be quite a thespian.”

“No need to call me names.”

Hubert chuckled and said, “Right, then.  You’re on your own.  Wander around a bit.  Talk to Dudeney again if you like but be seen by the staff in general.  When you’ve finished, come back in and we’ll have something to eat before going to the village.”

**********

Early evening not being the best time to find villagers in the streets, they had popped into the Barham pub – something that Kitchener never did, but which Hubert thought worth the risk in order to get Farmer seen.  The customers were utterly awe-struck to find Kitchener walking in to their local and the landlord was beside himself.  ‘Kitchener’ stood a round of drinks and his health was well and truly toasted before they managed to escape an hour later.

“Well, then, Henry my lad.  You did well, there.  Any remaining doubts about looking like the real thing?”

“No, you’re right.  I
must
look reasonably like Kitchener to get away with the sort of thing you chaps want me to do – the odd appearance and so on.  Just don’t ask me to direct a major offensive.  The only niggling thing is the office, tomorrow …”

“Which the elderly and capable Miss Thorpe will manage for you.”

Back at Broome House, Fitzgerald was waiting for them.  “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“Gallivanting,” said Hubert and then hastily added a ‘Sir’ in response to Fitzgerald’s frosty stare.

“You are meant to clear exits from the grounds with MacLaughlin.  We were about to notify Sir Basil just as you walked in.”

“Oh, dear,” said Farmer.

“I thought we needed to have Colonel Farmer test out his Kitchener impersonation under fire, so to speak.”

“And how, exactly, did you do that?”

“We went off to the pub.”

For a moment or two, Fitzgerald sat still, thunderstruck.  “You went
where
?”

“To the pub.  There was no sign of intelligent life anywhere else.  I’ve no doubt that some estate workers were there among the villagers and certainly no-one questioned his identity.  Or if they
did
have any doubts, they kept them to themselves.  Which is precisely what would happen in London and Colonel Farmer needed to know that for himself.”

Fitzgerald enunciated his words with care.  “You will refrain from further ...
excursions
conducted on your own discretion.  Do you understand?  I have agreed to help maintain the illusion of his continuing existence but I must insist on being able to preserve his
reputation
, too!”