For a moment C.B. was silent again, then he said: 'If that's the case, Mrs. Morden, there's no more I can say; except to express my admiration for your determination and courage.'
'Thank you,' she said gravely. 'I'm glad my confession hasn't made you think too badly of me.'
'Far from it. None of us has much choice about the sort of life we have to lead when we are young; and, frankly, it is a small grain of comfort to me to know that at least you are prepared for the sort of thing it's certain you'll have to face.'
'That's that, then.' She picked up her bag. 'Well, I won't keep you any longer. Thank you for seeing me and giving me such a nice tea.'
Waving her back, he said: 'No, don't go yet. Although I can't give you any official help, maybe I can suggest a way to lessen these risks you are determined to run.'
Her mouth twitched in a faint smile. 'I'll bet that it is to try to make myself look old and unattractive.'
He laughed. 'No; there would be no chance of your succeeding in that. Even a make-up expert couldn't alter your face enough for people not to detect at close quarters that it was a painted mask. Then, how about your figure, and those legs? But I was thinking of the risk to your life, not to your, er - virtue. You won't be able to disguise the fact that you are an extremely attractive young woman, but you could radically alter your appearance and give yourself a different type of beauty.'
'What would be the point of that?'
C.B. put his index finger alongside his big aggressive nose and spoke almost in a whisper. 'Before poor Teddy was done in you can be certain that the people who did the job first found out all they could about him. From the moment they began to suspect that he was spying on them they would have had him followed. That would have led them to his home. It is a thousand quid to a rotten apple that they know you and all about you. The moment you went among them - that is, as your natural self- they would recognize you and realize that you were on their track. Then your number would be up before you had even started. If you are to stand any chance at all you must assume a completely new identity.'
'I see. Yes, of course, you are right. Well, I'll turn myself into a brunette, change my hair-style and do everything else I can think of to alter my appearance.'
'Good! But that is not enough. You must also change your place of residence and live in new quarters under a different name. Would that be difficult for you? I mean, although you tell me you have no family of your own, there are your in-laws. Could you think of a plausible excuse for going away for a while without leaving them your address?�
Mary's mouth tightened, and her voice held a trace' of bitterness. 'I won't have to think up an excuse. Teddy's people are the worst type of middle-class snobs. God knows, I've done nothing to antagonize them. It is just that they had pinned their hopes on Teddy marrying some little piece vaguely connected with the peerage, or at least a girl whose parents had money; and I didn't fit into either category. They had no time for me from the beginning and if I took a running jump into a pond tonight, it wouldn't cost any of them a wink of sleep. I have only to shut up the flat and give out that I'm going back to Ireland for the Mordens to count themselves well rid of me.'
'I would advise you to do that then. Move into furnished rooms or a small hotel in some district where you know no one. Take a new name and open an account in it at a local bank, then instruct your own to pay your funds into it as required and to forward your letters there enclosed in envelopes bearing the name you have taken. Shut yourself off as completely as you can from all past associations, and communicate with no one. That includes myself. If these people know that Teddy was working for me they may be watching this place; so don't come here again or to the office, or telephone either. That is unless one of two things happens. One, you have succeeded in getting something definite for me to act on; two, you believe yourself to be in danger of your life. In the latter case, evidence or no evidence, you can count on me to come with all the King's horses and all the King's men racing to your rescue.'
'Thank you, Colonel Verney. I don't expect you will hear any more of me for quite a time; but when you do, I only hope it will be on the first count and not the last. You've been very kind, and at least I can promise not to call for your help without good reason.'
Five minutes later he let her out of the side door into the narrow alley that ran between the studio and the garden of the house next door. As he watched her, a trim figure, head held high, walking with firm step swiftly away, he wished more than ever that he had been able to dissuade her from entering on this dangerous undertaking, or at least to give her some protection.
Back in his armchair he pondered for a long while whether he should pass on to Barney Sullivan what she had told him, inform him of her intentions, and tell him to co-operate with her. But, each working on his own, neither could bring the other into danger, and they provided two sources through either of which he might learn the truth about the murder of Teddy Morden; whereas, if they were associated, should one become suspect, the other would also. So he decided against letting Barney know anything about Mary's proposed activities.
It was a decision that he was to look back on later with bitter regret.
CHAPTER III A SCIENTIST BECOMES QUEER
It was three weeks later - to be exact, late in the afternoon on Monday, April 4th - that Colonel Verney received a visit from Squadron Leader Forsby. They were old friends as they had worked together during the war, and afterwards Forsby had been seconded to special Security duties. For the past two years he had been responsible for security at the Long Range Rocket Experimental Establishment, which was situated on a lonely stretch of coast down in Wales.
The Squadron Leader was a small, grey-haired man with a kindly face and a deceptively meek manner, for he could be extremely tough when the necessity arose. As he set down his brief case and took a chair, Verney said: 'Glad to see you, Dick. What sort of trouble has brought you up to the great big wicked city?'
'It's a funny one, C.B.,' the little man replied. 'May be nothing in it, maybe a lot. One of my science babies has gone a bit queer.'
'I thought they were all slightly nuts, anyhow.'
Forsby smiled. 'They're a special breed and live in a different world from us. Ethically many of them are quite irresponsible; but this is a bit out of series.'
'Don't tell me we've got another Nunn May or Fuchs on our hands!'
'I hope not, but he just might be. His name is Otto Khune. He's of German extraction but born American, in Chicago. In 1945 he married an English wife. She was a young Wren signals officer, and they met while she was doing a tour of duty at one of the Naval repair bases that we set up in the U.S. during the war. Evidently she didn't fancy the idea of living in the States, as they both came to England in 1946, and he took British nationality. As he had already been working for the Yanks on Rocket projects, and was fully vouched for, he was given a job by the Ministry of Supply; but the marriage didn't last. His wife divorced him in 1951. His speciality is fuels, and for the past eighteen months he has been top man in that line at the Station.'
'What's he been up to?'
'Nothing. It is simply that his colleagues are worried about his mental state. They all have their own quarters, of course, but the unattached ones feed and spend a good part of their leisure hours in a mess. For some weeks past Khune's behaviour there, particularly when it is getting late at night, has puzzled the others. They say that for short periods he talks and behaves as though he were an entirely different person. Did you happen to read that book The Three Faces of Eve?�
C.B. shook his head. 'No, but I heard several people talk about it. I gather it was a report by two professional psychiatrists on an American woman who suffered from split personality.'