Chapter 20 #2
“Towards the end of the War,” the captain continued, “I was billeted in the half-ruined chateau of a charming Frenchwoman. Having had no word of or from her husband since the first German assault on the Marne, she considered herself a widow. She was by no means the only one in what little was left of the village. We became . . . fond of each other. And in that momentary euphoria when the Armistice was declared, we were married. A civil ceremony such as they have in France.” He cleared his throat, stubbed out his cigarette, and lit another.
“The husband came back?” Alec prompted.
“Her husband came back. The mayor who had ‘married’ us was very helpful, swore all records would be expunged. Of course, it was an embarrassment for him, too. . . . What I absolutely cannot fathom is how Rumford found out. I didn’t tell anyone in the regiment.
Our only witnesses were two friends of hers, local Frenchwomen.
But there were troops marching in all directions all over the place, and I suppose the Service Corps was about, busy doing its level best to keep everyone supplied with left boots when what they needed were puttees. ”
“The Service Corps doubtless had dealings with local people. I imagine French villages are as much hotbeds of gossip as are English villages.”
“In other words,” Devereux said harshly, “I’m fooling myself believing Rumford’s the only one who knows.”
“Possibly. Probably. It’s been my experience that once two people know a secret, it’s no longer a secret.”
“No one’s said anything.”
“So many soldiers coming home from the War with stories to tell. Names get forgotten, or garbled. If any of your acquaintances happen to have heard and remembered, they wouldn’t dream of mentioning your .
. . misfortune to you. And, fortunately, blackmailers are few and far between.
If you hadn’t happened to come into contact with Rumford, I doubt he’d have sought you out.
He doesn’t go in for putting pen to paper. ”
“Nothing in writing. Sometimes I wonder if it was all a bad dream. Sometimes the whole War seems like a bad dream. Six . . . nearly seven years ago! Surely no one’s going to start talking about it now.”
“Most likely not. Once I’ve had a word with Rumford, I’d be very surprised if he starts telling tales.
” Yet Alec had seen so many lives ruined by secrets and lies supposedly long buried.
In vain, he told himself he was a copper, not a parson.
It was none of his business to advise anyone of anything but the right to send for a lawyer.
He blamed Daisy’s influence, she who was always taking lame ducks under her wing, to coin a phrase.
“But if it were to come out,” he found himself saying, “would you rather Lady Devereux heard it from a stranger, or from you?”
The captain regarded him with a frown for a long moment.
“I’ll consider the matter,” he said at last. With a return to his usual sardonic manner, he went on, “Now you’ve heard the pathetic tale, you can see why I’d rather it didn’t become common knowledge.
I don’t exactly cut a heroic figure. In fact, I’d be the laughingstock of the regiment. ”
“I’d say it’s highly unlikely we’ll need to use it. I appreciate your frankness and cooperation, Captain.”
“And you believe I had nothing to do with the murder?”
“My belief is neither here nor there. We have to look at the evidence.” Alec stood up. “I’m afraid we may well have more questions for you at a later date, but we’ll let you go back to your marchers now. Thank you for your time.”
“My time is the army’s,” Devereux said dryly. “Anything I can do to help, Chief Inspector, just let me know.”
Alec and Piper left the room. Outside, Lieutenant Jardyne was standing opposite the door, shifting from foot to foot. Alec gave him an enquiring look.
Not meeting Alec’s eyes, he mumbled, “Waiting for Captain Devereux. Ah, there you are, sir!” With obvious relief, he pushed forward past the policemen.
From Devereux, Jardyne received exactly the same raised-eyebrow look he had just had from Alec.
Jardyne went on past him into the small room.
Devereux shrugged his shoulders, raising his eyebrows at Alec with a “What’s got into him?
” expression. But he followed the young man and closed the door behind him.
Conspirators? Surely not!
Alec and Piper found their way out of the barracks. Emerging into bright sunlight, they stopped to watch the marching and countermarching. Time was kept by the tramp of booted feet now, the drummer giving only an occasional rat-tat.
“Sad story, the captain’s,” Piper commented.
“Yes.”
“You reckon it’s true, Chief, or is it a load of codswallop?”
“On the whole, I’m inclined to credit the French marriage.
I’m not at all convinced he really expects his father to take it calmly if the story comes out.
Whether Lord Devereux would be so furious as to cut off his allowance—well, that’s pure speculation.
I hope we shan’t have to delve into his lordship’s temperament! ”
“Seems to me a bit far-fetched, paying out like that to keep his ma happy.”
“I dare say there are a few discreditable details he didn’t see fit to pass on to us—which would make his parents’ reactions the more to be dreaded.
What’s more to the point, as he acknowledged eventually, the story would make him the laughingstock of the regiment.
He’s the sort who likes to deride, not to be derided. ”
“Aren’t we all, Chief!”
“You’re right, of course. In any case, you’ll have to talk again to the sentries who were on duty when the captain made his inspection, to get a rough idea of the time.”
“It’s a pity no one saw him leave the Guard House.”
“Yes, though even if he did his round long after midnight, it won’t prove he didn’t go out earlier and shove Crabtree down the steps. I’d say it would be out of character, though.”
“It’s got to be him, Chief. Unless we can work out how the Governor could’ve got out of his house, or Sarge finds a way over the wall, Devereux is the only one left with means, motive, and opportunity, and enough money to make it worth Rumford’s while to make a push for a big final payment.”
“If Tom finds a way over the wall, all bets are off. But remember, it’s only a theory that Rumford suddenly asked for more, and if he did, that he went for a big sum from just one person. No one has admitted it. Methinks it’s time we had a little chat with the Yeoman Gaoler.”