“Hence the 8.75 figure at the end. He’s averaged the crew size across the low-level fleet and come up with 2.5.”
“2.5 times 3.5?” Susie asked.
“8.75,” Rob confirmed. “The number of lives in danger annually if Guiding Light goes into service. Here it is, Susie. Here’s the evidence, in black-and-white.”
Susie turned to Belkin.
“Professor, where is the actual evidence? Do you still have the tapes and the data?”
“I’m afraid we destroyed them, on Squadron Leader Milford’s instructions. But there is something else rather important here. These conclusions are not reliable. There simply wasn’t enough data. Not nearly enough. The true figure, that number at the end, has much that is assumed and extrapolated from a very small sample size. I imagined this would be the beginning of an investigation, not the end.”
Rob didn’t reply; Susie rested a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry if that’s unwelcome news.”
They sat in silence for a while. Rob toyed with the sheet of statistics. He stared at the final figure.
8.75
“Shall we have that tea now?” Belkin said.
The three of them drank from old mugs that looked like they’d seen service in the war. Belkin told them he’d stayed on Lundy with his wife Winifred the year after they were married in 1931. She was hit by a bus and died, crossing the road in Edinburgh in 1942.
“I thought she was safe up there.”
“Where were you during the war?” Rob asked.
“I suppose I can tell you now. I worked at Bletchley Park. Have you heard of it?”
Rob shook his head.
“I have,” Susie said. “Ultra.”
“That’s right. Your friends across the river.”
“We had a couple of lessons on it during training,” said Susie. “It was amazing. They captured the German code machines and cracked them. For most of the war, we were one step ahead. They never did find out.”
“So this was child’s play in comparison,” said Rob.
“Yes, it was a tough assignment. Much pressure on our shoulders and frequent setbacks. Rationing the information was the biggest challenge. If we used too much of it, it would be obvious we’d cracked the Enigma machines and the precious supply would suddenly end.” He poured himself another cup of tea as he spoke. “I never did get used to the idea that we would let a ship sink and all those men die, just to keep our secret safe.”
“But it was the right thing to do,” Susie said.
“Yes, it was. It shortened the war considerably and saved many more lives in the long run.” Belkin stirred in another sugar.
“You think this is how Kilton sees Guiding Light?” Rob asked Susie.
“Undoubtedly. He’s done these figures. With more data, his numbers will be more accurate, no doubt. Maybe higher than 8.75 men a year, maybe lower. But either way, he clearly considers it a price worth paying for the advantage gained.”
“But Mr Milford did not think it a price worth paying,” Belkin said. “And neither do you, Mr May, do you?”
“No.”
They finished their tea quietly.
Just after 5PM Belkin saw them to the door. “I’m sorry I could not provide you with the firm evidence you require. But I think you must ask yourself this. If this is, as your superior must think, a price worth paying to win the Cold War or whatever, why has he felt the need to cover it up? Is that not something you can use to change the minds of those who need persuading? Surely there is enough you have uncovered to at least raise a question mark over the project?”
“Maybe,” Rob said, without conviction.
As they stepped out, Susie turned back to the professor.
“How did you know the number and code name, to contact us?”
“I’ve been at Oxford since 1945. I have my fair share of geniuses passing through my study. It’s always been in the interests of certain organisations to remain in touch.”
Susie smiled. “The Oxford recruiter. You’re a legend at Leconfield House.”
“I doubt that.”
MARY THOUGHT HERSELF A CONFIDENT DRIVER, but encouraging the Laverstocks’ Armstrong Siddeley Sapphire to stay in one place in the road was a challenge. The old car leant around corners and seemed to sway even on the straight.
On the passenger seat was an address near Southampton. Mary was glad of Janet’s officious nature, and she had done well in prising Georgina’s whereabouts out of the vicar.
The sun was still high in the afternoon sky as she reached the outskirts of the city. She turned toward the village of Totton.
It took her a frustrating ten minutes before she found the small close containing the Milfords’ rented bungalow. The old car overheated, and Mary left the vehicle to cool as she approached Charlie and Georgina’s temporary home.
She tapped on the door and waited, looking around at Millie’s car and the small, unkempt front garden.
There was movement inside; she heard a familiar voice call out.
“Charlie! Can you get that?”
He opened the door.
“Hello, Mrs May.”
“Hello, Charlie.” For a moment they just stared at each other. He looked uncertain.
“May I come in?”
Charlie appeared to relax. “Of course. Sorry.”
Georgina appeared behind Charlie. Composed, made up, wearing a red chiffon dress. Positively glowing.
“Mar! Darling!” She raced to the door, brushing past her son. The two women embraced and Mary clung tightly to her friend.
IN THE GARDEN, Georgina poured two glasses of sweet German white wine. Mary wasn’t a connoisseur, but it tasted cheap.
“How are you?” Mary asked.
“I can’t pretend it’s easy, Mar. I try to stay strong for Charlie, but once the bedroom door shuts, I’m a mess. I miss you all so desperately.”
“What did they say to you, Georgina? Why did they ask you to leave?”
“Oh, they considered our house a crime scene, or some such nonsense. I think Rob’s doing his best for us, but Millie obviously got himself in a muddle about something… I just can’t believe they’re taking it so seriously.”
“When you say Rob’s doing his best, you mean that box of papers?”
“I suppose so. He got them away, so the police never actually found anything, but they know something’s missing. What I don’t understand is why Mark can’t put a stop to it all.”
“Kilton?”
“Yes! He’s in charge, isn’t he?”
“Georgina, do you have any idea what’s actually going on?”
“I don’t have the foggiest, Mar. People keep asking me, but as always, the wives are the last to know anything.”
“What ‘people’, Georgina? Who keeps asking you?”
“Rob, of course. Yesterday—”
“You spoke to Rob?”
“Well, yes. He was here yesterday. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No. He didn’t. I’m sorry I had no idea he’d already spoken to you.”
“Well, I couldn’t tell him much, but he asked a lot about what Millie was up to, running up to the crash. I’m afraid I wasn’t much help.” She shrugged. “I said the same thing to Red.”
“Red was here, too?”
“Not here, but he telephoned a couple of hours ago, asking all the same questions.” She took another drink of wine. “I’m surprised Rob didn’t mention it to you, Mary!”