Sea Gem (46 page)

‘Well?’ Mary hissed between clenched teeth.

‘Traitor!’ William shot back at her.

‘Eh!’ Mary gasped, taken aback for a few seconds until a chill entered her heart. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You are a traitor to Germany,’ William announced pompously as his eyes gleamed triumph. He had her at last. Now she would pay with a vengeance for all his past humiliations.
‘You are a British agent. I’ve had my suspicions for a long time and I’ve watched your shop carefully but there was no pattern. Now though you meet that old fisherman fairly
regularly, yet he never buys anything, does he? You know this island backwards and have been seen everywhere for no apparent reason at all. Why should someone of your age want to poke her nose
about unless she wished to collect information?’

‘It will look very interesting in a report, won’t it?’ William jeered. ‘Plus the fact you are not island-born either. You’ll get your deportation papers and the
Gestapo will be delighted to talk to you,’ he warned wickedly.

Mary could think of nothing sufficiently cutting to say so she kept silent but her resolve set rigidly.

‘Now we know why you really wanted that shop and flat, don’t we?’ William continued. ‘So what about the girl there? I suppose she’s in it up to her neck as
well!’

Mary did not bother to reply. She simply studied William carefully. How was it that such a magnificent young man could be quite so rotten?

William would do well for himself, she mused. She would be a prime catch for him to parade before the Germans, then she felt a pang. How could her flesh and blood be prepared to drag in innocent
people like Alice, Raoul and Amelia because catch them in his net he certainly would.

‘Where is your proof?’ she asked casually, wondering exactly why she felt it necessary to stall for time.

William hesitated and Mary noted this. That was the trouble, William told himself uneasily. He had not a shred of proof. Once again the old fisherman had simply disappeared into thin air and
even when he took his mother in, he had a shrewd idea she would be a hard one to break.

‘Have you gone deaf too?’ Mary asked quietly. She had been straining all her senses as they stood facing each other. For a fleeting second, some instinct had indicated they were not
alone but strain her nerves and senses as she might, she could pick up nothing to indicate a third party.

William had gone a dull red, Mary noted coolly. His hands were curled into enormous fists and his chest swelled before her eyes. Mary knew he was working himself up to attack her.

‘You are the traitor,’ she grated at him. ‘My God! I did a bad day’s work when I spawned you. You are rotten through and through and have been since birth. You are also a
heinous murderer!’

William took a step nearer and a wicked glow showed in his eyes. After all these long years she was going to come out with it at last. She
had
known, all the time.

‘You killed Edwin, didn’t you?’ Mary asked quietly now.

William laughed. ‘Of course I did! That fool kid thought he was better than me!’

‘That’s what is written down,’ Mary informed him softly.

William froze then. ‘What do you mean?’ he blustered uneasily. His mother stood there just a little too sure of herself when she should be trembling.

‘Take it from me, my deductions were notated years ago. I wonder what your wonderful German masters would think of you if they learned you were a child murderer.’

William quivered from head to toe. ‘I’m going to kill you!’ he announced and waited expectantly for her to panic.

Mary threw her head back and chuckled. ‘You’ll find me more of a match than poor Edwin!’

Very slowly, almost casually, Mary withdrew the derringer from her pocket as William’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. Mary knew he was well within range and she lifted the pistol as
her finger took up the tiny bit of slack.

William pounced forward. The pistol discharged and the bullet entered his chest. He froze and looked down at gushing blood with complete disbelief. His aorta had been ruptured and the blood flow
turned to a pouring dam of brilliant, sticky red.

Mary watched, feeling numb. It was her blood which had brought him into the world. It was her sole right to rid the world of his evil.

‘You’ve shot me!’ William gasped. ‘I’m going to die. I’m your son!’

‘Yes, on all three counts and may God have more mercy upon you than you had upon Edwin!’

Mary continued to stare with fascinated horror. She had never dreamed the human body held so much blood. As William’s knees sagged, she held his eyes. They were starkly terrified. His
mouth moved silently, then he fell down on the sodden grass, bled white. Mary took a deep breath. She had no regrets. Edwin was avenged—at long last.

‘Frau!’ grunted a voice from just behind her and Mary felt as if she leaped three feet into the air.

‘Give me that pistol, Frau!’

Mary whipped around, trying to collect her shattered wits as the soldier lurched towards her, his right hand outstretched. His trousers were undone. He had obviously been out drinking and gone
into the trees to relieve himself. He was not too drunk though to fail to take in what he had seen. He moved a pace nearer, his eyes focusing as the killing removed the beer fumes and military
training took over.

Mary’s brain slid into top gear. Without any hesitation she lifted the pistol, sighted high and fired the last bullet. It hit the soldier in the middle of his forehead and he collapsed in
an untidy heap only a few paces from William.

Mary stood unmoving, senses alert, her mind appearing to work in two directions. The big shadow. The two red fires, the two bangs—
this
was the nightmare. She found she had been
holding her breath and let it out slowly, acutely aware of her appalling peril. It was bad enough to kill a civilian but to murder a German soldier was enough to send the occupiers on a rampage of
revenge.

She looked at the two bodies. Think, she berated herself furiously. An idea flashed into her mind which, at first, filled her with repugnance. She turned it over quickly and shook her head. She
could come up with nothing else at such short notice and she guessed even German troops were not immune.

She took another deep breath and bent over the soldier. Grimacing with distaste, she pulled his trousers down and then his underpants. His penis lay limp. She straightened and studied how
William lay. Thank God he had fallen within useful range of the soldier. She took the pistol and, with the rag she used as a handkerchief, carefully wiped her fingerprints away. Then she bent over
William and forced the pistol into his right hand, clenching the fingers in what she prayed looked a natural position. She backed a pace and studied the faked homosexual scene. William had been
importuned against his will. He had struggled. From somewhere the German had produced a small pistol and shot him. William had managed to grab this and kill the German in turn before he died.

It all looked so horribly flimsy and set up that Mary shook her head, but what else could she do? Then something else hit her. Their footprints which lay starkly clear on the wet grass. She
looked at her watch, then studied the sky. With luck—and God knew she certainly needed some—the dawn would wipe them away. Even a tiny shower of rain would be a Godsend because there
were no domestic animals near a quarry to obliterate three sets of tracks.

Mary looked once more at William. He had a strangely peaceful expression on his face that startled her. She waited for remorse to touch her heart but there was nothing. It was the end of
something that had begun years ago.

She looked at her watch with a sinking heart. It was impossible to get home before curfew and she gritted her teeth, making herself think clearly. She must tell Raoul. If she failed to show up
he would only set out looking for her, running impossible risks. Mary scanned the area yet again. Why did she feel an odd prickle at the nape of her neck? She shook herself, dismissed the
sensation, then carefully stepped into the soldier’s tracks.

She knew she was not far from home, which meant the German had to be one stationed at Cobo Bay. It crossed her mind to wonder where he had been drinking, then she pushed that puzzle away. She
had enough problems without extra ones.

Mary reached the lane, stepping along it silently, looking around once more, then set off walking as quickly and quietly as she could. The observer never moved. The whole scene had shocked and
astounded him, freezing his body into immobility.

It was with relief that Mary skirted her home and approached the Ozanne cottage from the rear. She stood and eyed the upstairs windows dubiously, then reached to pick up a light stone. She
tossed it in an arc and, more by luck than judgement, it tinkled a glass pane with what seemed to be a sound of thunder.

She waited, biting her lip anxiously. Wake up, Raoul, she prayed and threw a small second stone. Finally his face appeared at the window, looking down at her with shock. Mary gesticulated wildly
before stepping into a pool of deep shadow. Finally the back door bolts slid back, the door opened and Mary shot inside.

‘What the—?’

‘Ssh!’ Mary hissed. ‘Amelia?’

‘Sound asleep. What is it?’

Mary walked into the sitting room and fell into a chair. Raoul studied her, shocked and frightened. She was white-faced, her hands shook and he could see she was near to tears. Without a word he
went to a cupboard, delved at the back behind humdrum objects and produced a precious half-bottle of brandy. He poured her a generous tot and handed it over.

‘Get that down you before you talk, Mary!’ he ordered firmly.

Mary was unused to spirit and she drank the lot in one gulp. The brandy bit into her throat as liquid fire, but she felt the trembles steady. Raoul looked at the time. It was midnight!

Mary sat a few moments, eyes closed, letting herself relive it all again but, most of all, she tried to check the fake scene. Would it pass muster?

‘I’ve just shot William dead and a German soldier too,’ she said quietly.

‘Bloody hell!’ Raoul exclaimed then, reaching for a second glass, poured himself a drink. His mind spun with horror. This was the worst he had ever imagined.

‘Tell me everything,’ he demanded with genuine fear.

Mary did as he asked while he listened speechless.

‘If the bodies are not found until morning I have a good chance of getting away with it all. The tracks will have vanished naturally.’

‘What can I do?’

Mary shook her head. ‘Nothing!’ She paused, then pulled a face. ‘I’ll have to be on my way.’

‘What! Where?’ he cried protestingly.

Mary turned to him. ‘Back to the flat, of course.’

‘What on earth for?’

‘To make myself an alibi,’ Mary pointed out. ‘So that I can say I spent the night there. The Germans will know I’ve not been home. They’ll come and ask if I was
here. Amelia is a rotten liar so if I spend the night at the flat, there’ll be no problem!’

Raoul saw the sense of this and he hastily stood. ‘You’re not going back that long walk alone,’ he growled. ‘Give me five minutes!’

Mary lowered her head but was grateful. The very idea of trudging back the way she had come was almost too unbearable to contemplate and she would have to go a longer way around to avoid the
bodies. She could easily make the excuse she’d been forced to stay at the flat because of the curfew hour; that she had been so involved doing her paperwork she had not noticed the time.

Raoul came back down the stairs fully dressed in shabby, dark clothes. ‘Amelia woke. I just told her I had to go out and not to worry if I was late back,’ he grinned a little.
‘Fortunately she doesn’t have a curious mind!’

Mary eyed the brandy bottle and decided against asking for another drink. She viewed the coming walk with gloom. Her legs were already weary and her mind was starting to numb.

‘You know the way better than me,’ Raoul whispered as he opened the door. ‘So you lead.’

‘We’ll go over the fields again but not near—them,’ Mary hissed back, mentally reviewing another route.

‘Do you know the times of all the town patrols?’ Raoul asked uneasily, as Mary unerringly led him from the back of the cottage, skirting her own home in a wide sweep.

‘No,’ she confided. She had never been in town at night.

‘Well,’ Raoul said slowly, ‘we’ll just have to be extra careful. No talking. Be careful where we place our feet and, if we are spotted, run like hell in different
directions. Divide and rule. If anyone should, by bad luck, spot me in the shop when I leave at six, we can say you’ve been stock taking and I stayed to help as you were not too
well.’

Mary nodded. It was an astounding improvisation from dour Raoul and she threw him a tired smile of approval. Then something occurred to her and she looked at him with concern.

‘What about Amelia?’ she asked with worry. She would never forgive herself if she was the cause of trouble between husband and wife.

Raoul gave a low chuckle as they strode over yet another soaking field. ‘My wife has the most innocent of minds and she thinks the world of you too so there’s not a problem
there,’ he assured her.

With that worry removed, Mary felt a tiny flame of hope. Perhaps she could get away with it? If not, the immediate future did not bear contemplation.

They arrived at the flat unscathed and Mary fell on her pull-down bed and went straight into a deep sleep. Raoul watched her as he slumped on the settee. He shook his head
wearily. How much longer could she carry on like this in safety? She was living on a knife edge.

Mary woke with a start and found Raoul grinning down at her holding a hot cup of exceedingly weak tea. Mary knew the leaves had been used four times already and in reality it was nothing but
coloured water but at least it was hot.

‘It’s just after six, ‘Raoul told her quietly. ‘You’d better let me out so I can get back home. Then I suggest you go back to bed so that your shop girl wakes you
up. She can help make your alibi even better!’

‘Good idea,’ Mary replied, getting up. She felt washed out though she had slept well for a few hours.