“Alice, please return to your duties, that’s a good girl,” Great Aunt Sylvia said. Alice skedaddled. “Now, Williams, what did the inspector mean?”
“I can only think, Lady Pemberton, that he refers to the night Miss Meredith came downstairs to tell us this would one day be a Pemberton household again. She had us fetch an excellent bottle, a 1934 Chateau Mouton Rothschild, in fact. She seemed very happy.” Williams had the look of a man who was glad to have a reasonable explanation.
“That was the night before Peter was killed,” I said. “Her happiness supports Crawford’s claim that she planned this all along. Maybe Helen’s push simply hurried things along.”
“Very well,” Great Aunt Sylvia said. “Please pass all of this along to Inspector Grange when he asks. You are dismissed.” Edgar took that as his own cue and bolted as well.
“We are very sorry, Lady Pemberton,” Kaz said, bowing. “It was not our intention to bring this pain down upon you.”
“The truth is painful,” she said. “But as I have discovered, no more or less painful for having been spoken. At least I spared them the final truth about their mother. It wasn’t illness that took her. It was suicide. There, the last family secret is now told.”
“Did she love Ted Wiley?” I asked.
“Yes. Or was infatuated, perhaps. But his love was not as strong. It only took a thousand pounds and steamship tickets to America to break his bonds with Louise.”
“What about Julia?” Kaz asked.
“She went along with the plan because she knew there was no future for her with Rupert. She did love him, and she played her part well. Although as you heard, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him directly. She let him think the child was his. A kindness on her part, I suppose. The ring came from me. I thought that even a bastard Pemberton should have some acknowledgment of his birthright.”
“You let Meredith think it was Sir Rupert’s child,” Kaz said, as gently as he could.
“Yes, I did,” she said. “I had the Pemberton name to protect, and Louise was born a Pemberton. A sin of omission on my part, but a sin nevertheless. But who among us would not transgress to protect family honor?”
“But it comes at a high price, Lady Pemberton,” Kaz said. “If Peter was not Sir Rupert’s son, he did not inherit Ashcroft. Which means Meredith and Helen won’t either, correct? That leaves David and Edgar with nothing, and the property with the government.”
“Not quite, Baron Kazimierz,” Great Aunt Sylvia said, appearing distressed and mischievous at the same time. “I once told you Louise did not change her will. That was not entirely correct. Farnsworth did not complete it, as I said. But Louise had a new one drawn up in India. She sent it to me, along with her suicide note. That is how I learned of her death, and I have kept that secret from Meredith and Helen to this very day.”
“The will named Peter Wiley as her child and left everything to him,” I guessed.
“Indeed. I have kept it safe all these years. I had no wish for the world to know of these sordid affairs, and I never imagined that the discord between Rupert and Meredith would fester so. However, I also have no wish for the government to take over Ashcroft House. I will take the document to Farnsworth and make certain the family maintains control. Such family as remains. Perhaps there is hope for the next generation.”
“Perhaps Edgar will turn out to be a good father,” I said, seeing no need to add without Meredith. “David needs a purpose in life as well.”
“Yes,” Great Aunt Sylvia said, nodding. “It was Meredith who wanted to keep the children at boarding school, not Edgar. And David mentioned wishing some of his fellow patients could visit. Perhaps healing will be a fitting role for Ashcroft House for the remainder of this terrible war. I shall speak to them both about it.”
“Did you suspect anything?” I asked, taking advantage of her momentary openness. Not that it mattered. I had no desire to put this strong but sad old lady behind bars.
“No, I truly thought I had been seeing things. After all, a minute or so later there was no one there. I must have seen Peter moments before Crawford took him away. I should have questioned Meredith’s sudden kindness in bringing me my morning tea, but I had waited so long to see the good side of her that I fear I set any suspicions aside.”
“It seems that Helen was not as eager as Meredith in this,” Kaz said.
“She was always the meek one. I’m more surprised that she pushed Peter than I am that she went along with Meredith. She always did whatever her older sister said. And it explains her sudden embrace of David, now that I think of it.”
“She needed a safe harbor,” I said. “He was it, scars and all.”
“And now he has another wound to deal with. Gentlemen, I must take my leave of you. I need to consult with David and Edgar about what we will do next. Farnsworth is a reliable family solicitor, but we may need a sharper mind in this matter. Baron Kazimierz, I hope you and David can still be friends. He is a decent man, and he needs what help he can get.”
“Perhaps after some time has passed,” David said from the doorway. “Not today.” He looked away as we passed, leaving us with the memory of his scarred and immobile face.
Outside, Big Mike was waiting for us.
“What happened?” he asked as we climbed into the jeep.
“Mrs. Mallowan was right,” I said.
CHAPTER FORTY
It was a long ride back to London. After we’d filled Big Mike in on what he’d missed, Kaz and I managed to sleep, even sitting on Uncle Sam’s uncomfortable seats. We got to Norfolk House in Saint James’s Square in the late afternoon, and I grabbed a cup of joe and got to work typing up my report.
It wasn’t that I liked paperwork. It was because I knew Diana was in town, and this was her last night before her upcoming mission. I had to see her. I did the two-finger dance over the typewriter keys and ended up with three pages of army-style police report, along with two carbon copies, before five o’clock. Seventeen hundred hours, for those who prefer army time.
“Good job, Boyle,” Colonel Harding said, standing over me as I put the reports in a file to be stored away where no one would ever read them. “And completed paperwork, too. This calls for a celebration.”
At that moment, Diana Seaton entered the office. There were a few rows of desks between us, and the sunlight lit the frosted glass behind her, giving her severe First Aid Nursing Yeomanry uniform an ethereal glow. She stood silently, both of us grinning like schoolkids, neither moving for fear of breaking the spell.
“Sorry, Colonel, I have a date,” I said, rising from my seat.
“Hold on, Boyle,” Harding said, his hand on my shoulder, forcing me back down, his free hand signaling Diana to stop where she was. “I didn’t know Miss Seaton was in town.”
“What’s wrong, Colonel?” I said. “She wrote me a few days ago. She only has tonight before-before she has to leave.”
“That’s a problem, Boyle,” Harding said, facing me and leaning on the desk. “I know she’s leaving on a mission. We have a hard and fast rule here. No BIGOT can have contact with personnel destined for enemy territory prior to D-Day. No exceptions.”
“Colonel, I’m not going to spill the beans, don’t worry.”
“It’s my job to worry, Boyle. And I trust you both. But the rule is for everyone. I can’t make an exception. It’s too important.”
“Colonel,” I whispered. “She may never come back.”
“The answer is the same,” Harding said. “I’m very sorry.” He left to speak with Diana, who stood rigid, moving only to wipe a tear from her cheek. If I wasn’t such a tough guy, I would have bawled my eyes out. But I didn’t. I watched her as Harding left and signaled an MP to stand between us. We gazed across empty desks for ten minutes or so until she turned and vanished behind the opaque glass.