Chapter Six #3
‘I wonder how long it will take to find out anything about Tony.’
It was twenty minutes before anyone came to see them, but it wasn’t a doctor or nurse. It was a brown-haired man in his late forties, the grey in his temples matching the grey moustache, who appeared in a doorway, looking at them warily.
‘Parham’s here,’ whispered Gwen, seeing him.
‘Himself,’ said Iris softly. ‘We’d better be careful. The Act still applies unless we’re given specific permission to reveal anything.’
Parham motioned for them to follow him with a quick nod towards the corridor. They got up and trailed him as he turned off to the right. There was an empty office. He beckoned to them, then closed the door.
‘Miss Sparks, Mrs Bainbridge, I must confess I’m surprised to see you here,’ he said, pointing them to a pair of chairs, then perching on the edge of the desk.
‘As we are to see you,’ replied Sparks.
‘Surely you must know that this is a matter for the police. Why the surprise?’
‘That it’s you, Detective Superintendent, and not one of your subordinates,’ she said. ‘Why is that?’
‘The victim works for His Majesty’s government,’ said Parham. ‘There is a certain protocol for such affairs.’
‘Not to mention your having a higher security clearance,’ said Sparks.
‘That as well,’ he said. ‘As the two of you are very much aware given our previous history together. What is your connection to Mr Danforth?’
‘He’s an old friend from Cambridge,’ said Sparks.
‘And he signed up at The Right Sort,’ added Mrs Bainbridge.
‘When?’
‘Last week,’ said Sparks.
‘Could you tell us how he’s doing before we get any further into this?’ asked Mrs Bainbridge. ‘That is our immediate concern.’
‘He was badly burned, I’m afraid,’ said Parham.
‘Mostly on his back. He was lucky to be facing away when it happened. Had it reached his lungs, this would be a homicide investigation. He spent several hours here in a saline bath. They’re deciding now whether to proceed with debriding the burned skin immediately, or to stabilise him to the point where they can safely transport him to the burn facility in East Grinstead. ’
‘Oh, God,’ whispered Mrs Bainbridge. ‘The poor man.’
‘How did it happen?’ asked Sparks.
‘A petrol bomb, thrown through the open window,’ he said. ‘What the tabloids like to call a Molotov cocktail. How well do you know him, Miss Sparks?’
‘We were good friends at university,’ she said. ‘He went east to teach in Singapore before the war, then got caught up with events there. I hadn’t seen him since he left, then bumped into him last week.’
‘Where?’
‘Maggs Brothers, the bookshop. We went out for drinks, and he decided to enrol with us.’
‘I see. Do you know his family?’
‘Never met them,’ said Sparks. ‘I think he was estranged from them, especially after being gone for so long.’
‘What about his involvement with The Right Sort? Had he gone out with anyone there?’
‘He had his first date last night,’ said Sparks. ‘With a Miss Evelyn Lowle.’
‘Last night,’ he repeated. ‘I’ll have to speak with her. You don’t happen to have her contact information, do you?’
‘Not with me,’ said Sparks. ‘We could call you in the morning if that’s acceptable.’
‘That should be fine,’ he said. ‘I’m going to stay here in case he says anything else.’
‘Anything else?’ repeated Mrs Bainbridge. ‘You mean he’s able to speak?’
‘He’s been drifting in and out due to the morphine,’ said Parham. ‘The one thing he said clearly made no sense whatsoever.’
‘What was it?’ asked Sparks.
‘Something like “I forgot to praise her hat”,’ said Parham.
Sparks gave a sharp, quick laugh. Parham looked at her, an eyebrow raised.
‘His date,’ she explained. ‘Sorry, that laugh was inappropriate, but it caught me by surprise. I had told him that women liked having their outfits admired. I can’t believe that’s what was on his mind.’
‘Morphine will do that,’ said Parham. ‘Very well. Leave Miss Lowle’s information with my secretary. You know the number.’
‘We have it memorised,’ said Mrs Bainbridge. ‘If Mr Danforth wakes, please tell him that we were here, and that I will be praying for him.’
‘Of course,’ said Parham. ‘Goodnight, ladies.’
They left and exited the hospital.
‘He should know what’s really happening,’ said Gwen.
‘I agree, but it’s still an ongoing operation,’ said Iris.
‘Surely this must take precedence.’
‘We end up in prison if we tell Parham without clearing it first,’ said Iris. ‘And there is one more problem.’
‘Which is?’
‘What if the Brigadier was behind this? What if our Miss Lowle learned enough to condemn Tony to immediate execution?’
Gwen turned pale.
‘Do you mean to say that was a possibility when we embarked on this?’ she asked softly.
‘I didn’t think so at the time,’ said Iris. ‘But I’ve been out of the loop for a few years. Things may have escalated since then.’
‘How can we know?’
‘Only one way to find out,’ said Iris. ‘Had you any plans for the evening?’
The Brigadier was reading a report as Carruthers drove him home. He looked up as the Bentley slowed to a halt some distance from the entrance to his house.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘We may have a problem, sir,’ said Carruthers. ‘How would you like me to handle it?’
The Brigadier looked through the windscreen to see Sparks standing at his gate, glaring at the Bentley as if she were trying to stop it telekinetically.
‘How do you think she knew your address?’ asked Carruthers.
‘She makes a point of knowing about things she shouldn’t,’ said the Brigadier wearily. ‘Let’s find out why she’s here.’
Carruthers pulled up in front of the house, then got out.
‘What do you want?’ he asked.
‘I want to talk to him,’ said Sparks. ‘Now.’
‘You going to make a fuss, Lollipop?’ he asked.
‘Only if you get in my way, Carruthers.’
‘Tell her to get in the car,’ said the Brigadier from inside the Bentley.
‘Not a chance,’ said Sparks. ‘I’m not putting myself in any situation where there are locks on the doors. You get out of that car and talk to me. Right here, right now.’
The Brigadier hesitated, then opened the door and stepped out.
‘Do we need to frisk you for weapons, Sparks?’ he asked.
‘I’m carrying the usual in my bag,’ she said. ‘They’ll be staying there. This will be a brief conversation. Sir.’
‘Very well,’ he said, approaching her as Carruthers stepped to one side. ‘What do you want?’
‘Did you do it?’ she asked. ‘Has the office sunk to this point?’
‘Do you really think we did?’
‘I don’t think anything. I am asking you.’
‘Then the answer is no, Sparks. We didn’t make an attempt on Danforth’s life.
We needed to find out if he was working for the enemy.
We still do. All Miss Lowle did was make the preliminary contact.
She was not expected to do anything more than that, and you should know that is not how an operative would work in that situation. ’
‘No, but she’s new to this,’ said Sparks.
‘Further reason for her to take things one step at a time,’ said the Brigadier.
‘And you should consider this: if we wanted him dead, he would be dead. We certainly wouldn’t resort to such an inefficient mechanism as a petrol bomb.
There is no guarantee of success, as you’ve already seen. Danforth lives on.’
‘For the moment.’
‘Yes.’
‘You should speak to Parham. Or let me speak to him.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Why not? He’s cleared specifically for these types of cases but he’ll be working solo because of that. He needs all the help he can get, especially if …’
She hesitated, not wanting to complete the thought.
‘Especially if Tony dies and it becomes a murder case,’ she concluded.
‘It’s premature to be asking that,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Danforth isn’t dead. And frankly, we hope that he survives. We wish to continue the operation until we know more. In fact, I would like you to arrange a visit to his bedside for Miss Lowle to encourage her continuing rapport with him.’
‘He may not live through the night, and you’re already plotting the next phase?’ she asked in disbelief.
‘If he dies, then it’s a waste of a good cover story for Miss Lowle,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Valuable training for the woman, though. But we all hope he lives. Don’t we, Sparks?’
She looked at him, then nodded slowly.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘We’re done here. And if I ever see you at my gate again, I shall direct Carruthers to shoot you on sight and bury you where you’ll never be found. Understood?’
She nodded again, glancing at Carruthers, who smirked at her.
‘Then I will bid you a good evening, Sparks,’ he said. ‘Go home. Report to me if you succeed in visiting your old friend in hospital.’
He turned, opened the gate to his house and walked inside.
‘You wouldn’t really shoot me, would you?’ she asked Carruthers.
‘Nah,’ he said. ‘It’d be more fun to break your neck, Lollipop. Now get out of here. I’ll wait until you’re gone.’
She turned and walked away. Carruthers watched as she vanished around the next corner, waited, then opened the gate and knocked on the Brigadier’s door. It opened a moment later.
‘Any further instructions?’ he asked.
‘Search Danforth’s flat,’ said the Brigadier. ‘See what you can find.’
‘Yes, sir. What about Sparks? Should we keep an eye on her?’
The Brigadier snorted.
‘If I had three men capable of following Iris Sparks without losing her, I’d be running England,’ he said. ‘We’ll leave her be for now. But let me know if she causes any more trouble.’
‘Yes, sir.’