“He looked plain mean to me,” Tree said. “You find anything else?”
“Not there. But I stopped in to see Rosemary Adams. Her husband, Malcolm, was killed last night. Hit by a truck.”
“Damn,” Tree said. “Not that I can say I cared much for him, but Rosemary’s had her share of trouble.”
“It is unfortunate,” Kaz said. “But from what I have heard of Malcolm Adams, his wife may be well rid of him. They say he was never the kindest man in the village, and that his wounds only made him worse.”
“Plenty of men have been wounded; maimed and worse. They all don’t take it out on their wives,” I said. “Still, it’s hard to be glad a man has died on a dark road, after surviving a Japanese machine gun.” We didn’t speak for a while. Maybe we were giving Malcolm some respect for his service, no matter what his personal shortcomings. Or maybe we were all embarrassed by how little he’d be missed. I studied my boots for a while.
“They took Major Cosgrove away,” Kaz said finally.
“Who did?”
“Two rather large and very quiet men. In an ambulance, with a nurse to attend to him. They arrived as I did, spoke with the doctor, had him sign something, then put Cosgrove on a stretcher.”
“But you saw him? He was alive?”
“Yes, he was. The men knew who I was by sight, and told me I could say goodbye. Cosgrove was pale, and his voice was weak, but he did say to remind you of what he said about being careful.”
“Yeah, he did.” What I didn’t explain was that he meant Diana. “Did they say where they were taking him?”
“I asked, but they said that information was classified. When they loaded him into the ambulance, the nurse gave him an injection and the men hooked him up to an oxygen tank. While they were busy with that, I walked around to the front of the vehicle. One of the doors was open, and I got a quick look inside. A road map was folded open, and I noticed a familiar town. Saint Albans.”
“What’s there?” Tree asked.
“Saint Albans Rest Home,” I said. “We’ve been there before on a case. It’s a high-security hospital for people with too many secrets. High-ranking officers, commandos, spies, you name it. If you know too much and mumble in your sleep, Saint Albans is the place for you.”
“What the hell is the big secret?” Tree said. “It can’t be Angry or the missing girl, that stuff is all out in the open.”
“And Neville seems to be a non-entity,” Kaz said.
“So the question is, what was so important that Cosgrove was afraid of spilling the beans while under a sedative?”
“But who would even hear him? The doctor?”
“That’s a good question, Kaz. Cosgrove risked his health, if not his life, to not be sedated. What could he have said that would have been so dangerous?”
“Something not even a respected doctor could hear,” Tree offered. “Maybe some military secret.”
“There’s air bases, paratroopers, all sorts of military units around here that are going to be involved in the invasion,” I said. “Even the Six-Seventeenth Tank Destroyer Battalion. Maybe your unit is the big secret, Tree.”
“Hell, we tell everyone we see that the Nazis better watch out for us once we hit France,” Tree said. “We’re the worst-kept secret in England.”
“Perhaps it is something as simple as the date of the invasion, or the exact location,” Kaz said.
“That assumes he knows either of those,” I said. “They’re tightly held secrets, the biggest secrets of the war. Cosgrove might know bits and pieces of the plan, but I doubt he has the whole picture.” The wind freshened and I stuffed my hands in my pockets against the chill.
“What do you know, Billy?” Tree asked me.
“Barely the time of day. They keep us pretty much in the dark. Need to know, ya know?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one plenty of times,” Tree said, getting up from the bench and stretching his limbs. “I hope they put us up front in the invasion. I’ve been hearing that colored folk can’t fight too damned long. I need to set that straight for my father’s sake. The army’s forgotten about how he and the others fought in France last time around. I aim to make sure they don’t forget again after this war.”
“Be sure to keep your head down,” I said. “This isn’t a fistfight you’re headed for.”
“All right, Billy,” Tree said with an easy smile. “I know you’re looking out for me. We got maneuvers coming up in a couple of days. We’re Red Army, attacking Blue Army. You both oughta come out and watch. You can see us in action.”
“I’d be proud to,” I said, and Kaz agreed. Tree left with a bounce in his step, and I knew it would mean a lot to him if I had a front seat as he put his TD through its paces. Hell, it would mean a lot to me as well.
“Well, that at least gives us something to do,” Kaz said. “We can watch the maneuvers and wonder where the killer is.”
“Killers,” I corrected him. “Maybe three of them. We have at least three victims: Stuart Neville, Tom Eastman, Margaret Hibberd, and perhaps Sophia Edwards. Why not three killers?”
“But you don’t really think so,” Kaz said.
“No. I have the nagging feeling there’s a connection between Neville and Margaret. Maybe he knew her killer, or rather discovered who it was.” I told Kaz about the canal man Blackie Crane, and how there was a chance he had seen something that night as he passed by the Miller residence.
“It will be good to pursue that lead,” Kaz said. “But I think you’re straining to find a connection. The fact that Neville told the Miller girl to be careful doesn’t mean anything. It’s the kind of thing any man might say to a young girl.”
“It’s just that Neville left no other trace of himself. It’s like he wanted not to be noticed,” I said. “Anything unusual stands out, and his mentioning that was out of character, which makes me think he had a specific reason for saying it.”
“That’s a fine straw you’re grasping at, Billy. What is our next step?”
“Let’s see if Constable Cook has come up with anything. He was going to check further with Broadmoor and ask Doctor Brisbane if any villagers were committed there, voluntarily or otherwise.”
“You think it might be a pleasure man we’re after?”
“Might be. The whole thing is crazy, after all. Let’s go. After we talk with Cook we’ll get dinner. I’m hungry.”
“Billy,” Kaz said as we walked to our vehicles. “When are we going to hear what finally happened to you and Tree, in Boston?”
“When this thing is wrapped up, and Diana is back. She wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“Neither do I,” Kaz said.
CHAPTER TWENTY — NINE
“Evening, gentlemen,” constable Cook said as we entered his office. He was puffing away on his pipe, his desk a mass of files and paperwork. “I see your Major Cosgrove was taken away by ambulance this morning. How is he?”
“We don’t know,” I said. “The people who came for him are a tight-lipped bunch.”
“I could tell as much from Doc Brisbane,” Cook said, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “He’s a good one for a story or two, but all he told me was that it was best to forget all about the incident. That’s what he called it, the incident. Sounded like he was reading from a script.” Cook raised his eyebrows, inviting us to tell him more.
“Major Cosgrove is involved with security matters,” I said. “Probably normal procedure.”
“Ah, well, perhaps. Not that there was much normal about our major. I suppose you’re more interested in what I’ve found out about Broadmoor. The doc told me he knew of no one who had been committed there for purely medical reasons, so I reviewed the file of criminals from our jurisdiction who ended up serving their sentences there.”
“Anything new?” I asked as he shuffled through his papers.
“Not much. Turns out the chap Sam Eastman arrested back in nineteen thirty-five died two years ago in Broadmoor.”
“The arrest Sam was directly involved in?”