A frown had settled like a cloud on Madden’s brow. The appearance of the Stratton Hall medico had stirred a memory in him, and as luck would have it, just at that moment his distracted gaze fell on his wife and the young RAF officer she was dancing with.
‘Brian,’ he said, ‘that fellow dancing with Helen — is he by any chance the pilot you were telling me about not long ago? The one whose face was burned and who had to go off somewhere to have it fixed?’
‘That’s right,’ Chadwick replied after he had peered for several seconds in the direction Madden indicated. ‘Tyson’s his name. We sent him to Oxford. There’s a special unit there. They do plastic surgery. He returned a week ago for further convalescence. Poor fellow, he still looks a bit raw, doesn’t he?’
Madden grunted. It was the angry red stripes on the young man’s face that had caught his eye. He waited until the gramophone fell silent and the dance ended, then made his way through the milling couples to where his wife was chatting to her partner.
‘Have you come to beg for a dance at last?’ Helen teased him. Elegant in a simple dark frock set off by a pearl necklace, she had hardly been allowed to leave the floor, and even as they spoke another young officer was positioning himself at a discreet distance away ready to claim her as a partner.
‘Not yet. I’m still plucking up my courage.’
Laughing, she turned to her companion. ‘Paul, this is my husband, John Madden. John, this is Paul Tyson. His family’s from Winchester. They know Luke and Marigold.’
The young pilot had flushed on hearing his name mentioned, and with a gesture that was probably automatic by now had raised a hand to his cheek as he bobbed his head to Madden and muttered ‘Good evening, sir.’ He was in his early twenties with flaxen hair and pale skin which showed the marks of his ordeal all too plainly. Two livid stripes curving from eye to mouth gave his face an unbalanced appearance, while a further mark the size of a half-crown marred his otherwise smooth forehead.
‘Paul’s a wonderful dancer.’
Helen slipped her arm through the young man’s and Madden saw that she was trying to ease his self-consciousness.
‘Can we have another dance later?’ She smiled encouragement at him.
While Tyson mumbled an assurance, flushing once more as he spoke, Madden caught Helen’s eye and nodded slightly. Then he touched the young pilot on the shoulder.
‘Actually, I was wondering if we could have a word, you and I. There’s something I want to ask you.’
‘Ask me, sir?’
Caught off guard, Tyson forgot his disfigurement for a moment. He stared at Madden in open surprise; face to face.
‘Yes, it won’t take a moment.’
As Helen released the young man’s arm, Madden took him by the elbow.
‘Why don’t we go somewhere where it’s quiet.’
‘Oh Lord, yes. I remember that afternoon well. I thought about it a lot afterwards — after I’d heard what had happened to the poor girl. It reminded me of the squadron.’
‘The squadron?’ Madden was puzzled by the remark.
‘I mean, how you could be talking to someone one day, just chatting, and the next day they were dead. It happened all the time.’
Tyson flushed. He drew on the cigarette he had a lit a moment earlier.
‘The police are curious about that train journey, Paul.’ Madden had led the young officer out of the hall into a small ante-room. They could still hear the music and see the dancers through the open doorway, but the noise was deadened to some extent, perhaps by the coats that were hanging on rails all around them. ‘They have reason to believe that the man who killed Rosa boarded the train at Guildford; that he may have spotted her then. Do you remember anything out of the ordinary; anything about that trip that sticks in your memory?’ Madden paused, and when Tyson failed to reply at once — he appeared to be searching his memory — he added: ‘Colonel Chadwick told me you were in the same compartment as Rosa going up to London.’
‘Yes, that’s right, sir.’ The pilot nodded. ‘But we didn’t really talk during the journey. She met a friend on the train, you see.’
‘A friend-?’
‘A girl. She was Polish, like Rosa. They knew each other.’
‘Good heavens!’ Madden made no attempt to hide his astonishment. ‘How strange that she never came forward.’ He pondered a moment. ‘Of course, it’s possible she doesn’t know about Rosa’s murder. There was only a line in the paper about it. Who was she exactly?’
‘I’m not certain. All I know is what Miss Nowak … what Rosa told me …’ Tyson hesitated. ‘You see, I didn’t really know her either. I’d only heard her play at that concert, and when I saw her on the platform I went up to her and introduced myself and she told me her name. I said how much I’d enjoyed her performance, but we only exchanged a few words. She was very shy. Withdrawn, rather. When the train arrived I helped her on with her luggage — she had a basket of food besides her suitcase — and found a compartment with a couple of empty seats. The other girl was already sitting there and they recognized one another at once and started talking — in Polish. They were obviously excited to have run into each other.’
‘Their meeting was a surprise, then? They weren’t expecting it?’
‘Oh, no, definitely not.’ Tyson shook his head. ‘In fact, after a minute, Rosa broke off and apologized to me. She introduced the girl — I’m sorry, I’ve no recollection of her name — and said they had known one other in Warsaw. They’d been at the same college studying to be teachers. I got the impression they’d had no idea they were both in England. Rosa said she was sorry again and asked would I mind if they talked together — meaning would I mind if she didn’t talk to me — and I said of course it was all right and I understood. And that was more or less the end of it as far as I was concerned. We didn’t exchange another word other than to say goodbye when we reached Waterloo. I was in a hurry — I was hoping it wasn’t too late to catch my train to Oxford — and I left them there still getting their things together in the compartment. The other girl had luggage, too. Anyway, it was the last I saw of them.’
‘Tyson stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. But he appeared to be thinking hard, frowning with concentration, stroking the side of his face where the scars were, as though for a moment he had forgotten about them. Madden stayed silent, waiting for him to speak again.
‘You asked if there was anything out of the ordinary, anything I remembered …’
‘Yes …?’ Madden prompted him.
‘Well, there was something. It’s just come back to me. Only I don’t think it meant anything …’
‘ on.’
‘It’s just that they suddenly stopped speaking … the two girls …’
‘Stopped speaking?’ Madden frowned in turn. ‘What do you mean?’
‘They were talking non-stop — in Polish, of course — chattering away as though there was just too much to say, as though they had to cram in everything that had happened to them in the last few years. At least, that’s what I remember thinking at the time.’ Tyson flushed. ‘Of course, you know what happens when people do that in a compartment. Other people get upset, they don’t like the noise.’ A grin came to his lips. ‘ old boy sitting opposite me started coughing and rustling his newspaper, I recall. He was clearly getting fed up with them, but they didn’t realize it and just went on talking … until suddenly they went silent.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m not sure. We’d stopped at a station, I remember, so their voices had seemed even louder until the moment when they stopped. It was as though they’d been struck dumb. The old boy looked up in surprise, I remember, and so did I. I was reading a newspaper and when I glanced up I saw Rosa looking stunned; or surprised, anyway. She was sitting on one of the seats opposite, so it was her face I saw. The other girl was beside me and she’d gone silent, too. Something had happened; but I’ve no idea what.’