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Authors: Graham Ison

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Historical

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BOOK: Hardcastle's Traitors
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‘Now, sir?'

‘No. I think we'll call on him a bit later. Fetch Catto in here.'

‘You wanted me, sir?' said Catto, displaying his usual measure of apprehension.

‘You did an observation on Prince of Wales Drive on Monday, Catto, when you tracked down Captain Villiers.'

‘Yes, sir.' Catto was certain that the DDI was about to find some fault with the way in which that observation had been conducted or that he was about to query the expenses that he and Watkins had incurred.

‘Good. Well, you're about to do it again. I want to be certain that Captain Haydn Villiers is there before Sergeant Marriott and me go traipsing all the way out there to speak to him. Start about six this evening.'

‘But how can I be sure he's there without knocking on the door, sir?' asked Catto, fearing that once again he was to be faced with an impossible task.

‘Then, Catto, you knock on the bloody door. I'd've thought that was obvious. Use your common sense, but don't show out. You are supposed to be a detective, after all.'

‘Yes, sir.' Catto was on surer ground now that he had a specific instruction, and turned to leave. But wondering how he could knock at the door and still not show out.

‘Just a minute,' said Hardcastle. ‘Have any of you learned anything from your informants about Gosling's fencing activities?'

‘Not yet, sir.'

‘Don't forget,' growled Hardcastle.

Henry Catto was far more confident when he was out of the DDI's presence. He rang the bell of Hannah Villiers's apartment and waited.

Having passed the hurdle of Mrs Villiers's maid, Catto was eventually shown into the drawing room.

‘I'm a police officer, madam,' said Catto. ‘Detective Constable Catto,' he added, producing his warrant card.

‘Captain Villiers isn't here, if that's who you want,' said Mrs Villiers with a sigh. ‘He's visiting his lady friend, and I've no idea where she lives.'

‘I'm sorry, madam, but I don't know anything about a Captain … who did you say?'

‘There were two policemen here on Monday. Haven't you come about the same thing?'

‘No, madam, I'm merely warning people in the area that there have been a number of thefts locally by a man pretending to be from the water board. He usually asks the householder to go upstairs and turn on the bathroom taps while he pretends to check the downstairs pipes for leaks. While she's doing that, he steals whatever he can lay his hands on and makes off.'

‘Oh, I see. Thank you, officer. I'll be on my guard, and I'll inform my servants.'

‘If any suspicious characters should call, madam, don't admit them, and call a constable.'

‘Thank you,' said Hannah Villiers again, and rang for Elsie to show Catto out.

Just to guard against the possibility of Mrs Villiers mentioning his visit to her neighbours, Catto called at the apartments on either side of Mrs Villiers's and warned them against the fictitious water board official. That done, he made his way to nearby Battersea police station and sent a message to Sergeant Marriott.

‘A message from Catto, sir. He called at Mrs Villiers's place and she told him that Haydn Villiers was visiting his lady friend, but that she didn't know where she lived. It looks as though Annabel Powell's forgiven him after all. If that's where he's gone.'

‘I just hope Catto didn't blow the gaff,' said Hardcastle, as ever reluctant to give praise, even when it was due.

‘He's a very reliable officer, sir.' Marriott was always finding himself in the position of defending Catto against what he saw as the DDI's unjustified criticism.

‘So you say, Marriott, so you say.' Hardcastle put on his hat and coat, and took hold of his umbrella. Finally, he took his pipe from the ashtray and thrust it into his pocket. ‘We'll pay another visit to Annabel Powell and have a word with young Villiers.'

‘But he might have another lady friend who lives somewhere else, sir.'

‘Judging by the cut of young Villiers, I wouldn't mind betting he's got a whole stable of fillies in London, Marriott,' said Hardcastle. ‘But if that's the case, we'll know soon enough.'

Hardcastle beat a loud rat-a-tat on the lion's head knocker of Annabel Powell's Elm Park Gardens house. To his amazement, the door was opened by Haydn Villiers himself.

‘What on earth are you doing here, Inspector? It's not very convenient at the moment.'

‘I don't suppose it is, Captain Villiers, but I have something of vital importance to tell you.'

‘You'd better come in, then.' Reluctantly, Villiers showed the two CID officers into the drawing room.

‘Who was that at the door, Haydn darling?' Annabel Powell, wearing the same silk kimono and slippers in which she had greeted the detectives on their last visit, swept into the drawing room. ‘Oh, my good God!' she exclaimed, as she sighted Hardcastle and Marriott.

Villiers laughed. ‘That's what comes of giving the maid sixpence to visit a picture house every evening, darling.'

‘It's not funny,' said Annabel. ‘Anyway, you know why I give her the evenings off.'

‘Your secret's quite safe with me and Sergeant Marriott, Mrs Powell. I shan't tell the colonel,' said Hardcastle. ‘Right now, we have bigger fish to fry.'

‘Sounds serious,' said Villiers. ‘You'd better sit down.'

‘I have reason to believe that your life may be in danger, Captain Villiers,' said Hardcastle.

‘It has been since the war started,' said Villiers, with a cheerful laugh behind which was an element of cynicism.

‘I'm not talking about the war,' said Hardcastle, and went on to tell Villiers of the desertion of George Tindall. And he reminded him of the threat that Tindall had made against him.

‘Crikey! I'll bet the colonel was in a temper when he found out about Tindall going adrift,' said Villiers.

‘So long as that's all he finds out about,' said Annabel. Resigned to having been caught out, she had taken a seat in an armchair opposite Hardcastle and Marriott. Using both hands, she attempted to restore some order into her untidy hair.

‘Do you really think he's got as far as Blighty, Inspector?' Villiers did not seem greatly disturbed by Hardcastle's information, and that made the DDI wonder.

‘Your guess is as good as ours, Captain Villiers,' said Marriott. ‘But the assistant provost marshal for London District doesn't know where he is, obviously, otherwise he'd've had him arrested.'

‘Which is what I'll do if I find him,' said Hardcastle.

‘I'm going back to France tomorrow,' said Villiers. ‘Not that I'll be much safer over there.'

‘D'you think that this man might come here, Inspector?' asked Annabel. Having heard of the threat that Tindall had made, she appeared more concerned than her paramour.

‘I doubt it very much, Mrs Powell,' said Hardcastle, ‘but be careful when you open the door. I saw that you had a chain on it; make sure you keep it fastened.'

‘Do you happen to know the names of anyone Second Lieutenant Tindall owed money to, Captain Villiers?' asked Marriott.

‘No, I don't. But given that he was a gambler, I can only think that it's a bookmaker.'

‘Watch your back over there, Captain Villiers,' said Hardcastle, as he and Marriott stood up to leave. ‘As well as your front.'

‘Oh, I shall, Inspector.'

‘One other thing, Mrs Powell …' said Hardcastle. ‘Did Captain Villiers in fact spend the night of New Year's Eve with you?'

Annabel Powell sighed. ‘Of course he bloody well did, Inspector.'

Once in the street, Hardcastle paused. ‘I'm going back to the office, Marriott. But I want you to call on Mrs Villiers and tell her about Tindall. It's possible that he might call there. And it would be as well if we posted a man there until Tindall is arrested.'

‘Very good, sir.'

‘And take a cab, Marriott.'

‘Thank you, sir.'
And now he's going to tell me not to forget to take the plate number,
thought Marriott.

‘And don't forget to take the plate number,' said Hardcastle.

SEVEN

I
t was almost half past eight by the time Marriott arrived at Prince of Wales Drive in Battersea.

‘A police officer to see you, ma'am,' said Elsie, Hannah Villiers's maid, when she showed Marriott into the sitting room.

‘Oh, not again! This is becoming a habit. You're the second policeman who's called here today. Is it about this bogus water board person? If it is, I was told all about it by a detective only an hour or two ago. I think he said that his name was Catto.' Hannah Villiers paused as she recognized Marriott. ‘Ah, but I remember you now. You came here with that inspector on Monday.'

‘That's correct, madam, and it's nothing to do with bogus water board officials,' said Marriott, making a mental note to give Catto a word of praise for his subterfuge. ‘It concerns a man who has made a threat to kill your son, Captain Haydn Villiers.'

‘There are thousands of men who've done that, Sergeant, and they're all Germans.' Hannah Villiers laughed, apparently declining to take Marriott's warning any more seriously than her son had done.

‘This one is closer to home, Mrs Villiers. He's an officer in your son's regiment. In fact, in your son's battery.' Marriott explained about the threat, and that Second Lieutenant Tindall had deserted from his brigade. ‘It's possible that he's now in this country.'

‘Good gracious! An officer deserting? But that's unheard of, surely?' Hannah Villiers put a hand to her mouth. ‘Tindall you say? Oh, my God!' she exclaimed, suddenly remembering. ‘He was here.'

‘When was that, Mrs Villiers?'

‘I think it was the day after Boxing Day. He called one evening and I'm sure he said his name was Tindall. He said that he was a friend of Haydn and that they were each on leave at the same time.'

‘Did he say what he wanted?'

‘He said something about having arranged to meet Haydn for a drink, as they were both in London. But I told him that I didn't know where Haydn was or when he'd be returning.'

‘Did Tindall come back again?'

‘No. He said that he'd catch up with Haydn at some other time. He didn't seem at all bothered that Haydn wasn't here, but now you say he's intent on murdering my son.'

‘Did you mention Tindall's visit to your son, Mrs Villiers?'

Hannah Villiers gave a guilty laugh. ‘No, I must admit it slipped my mind. I didn't think it awfully important at the time. D'you really think it's a genuine threat, Sergeant?'

‘Whether it is or not, madam, we're inclined to take such a matter seriously. My inspector and I have just spoken to your son—'

‘How did you know where to find him? He didn't even tell me where he was going, other than to say he was visiting a lady friend.'

‘He gave us the lady's address when we first spoke to him, Mrs Villiers.' That was untrue, of course, and Marriott did not mention the woman's name, thinking it unwise to tell Hannah Villiers that her son was bedding his colonel's wife. ‘We know that Captain Villiers is returning to the Front tomorrow, but my inspector thought it might be a sensible precaution to post a police officer here, just in case Tindall should turn up looking for him.'

‘D'you really think that's necessary, Sergeant?'

‘Better to be safe than sorry, madam. But obviously it'll only be until your son leaves for France. Tindall will probably know that Captain Villiers's leave expires tomorrow.'

‘Very well, but where will this man of yours be? In my apartment?' Hannah Villiers did not sound enamoured of the idea.

Marriott had not given that any serious thought, but immediately made a decision. ‘In the entrance hall downstairs,' he said. ‘In that way, he'll be in a good position to challenge anyone entering the building.'

‘If you think that's best,' said Hannah Villiers, ‘but Lord knows what my neighbours will think.'

‘They'll not know why he's there, madam, and he'll be in plain clothes. Should your neighbours query it, you could always tell them it's in connection with this water board impersonator that the local police warned you about.' Marriott took his leave and descended to the ground floor.

‘All correct, Sergeant.' Detective Constable Gordon Carter was waiting in the entrance hall to the apartments.

‘What are you doing here, Carter?' asked a surprised Marriott.

‘Mr Hardcastle sent me, Skip. He said that Mrs Villiers's apartment needed to have an eye kept on it in case this Tindall chap turned up.'

‘But she's only just agreed to have someone posted here.'

‘The DDI said he thought she would, Skip. But he said I was to keep watch here whether she agreed or not.'

‘I presume you're posted here for the night, Carter. What arrangements has the guv'nor made for relieving you tomorrow morning?' Marriott, unlike the DDI, was always concerned about the welfare of junior officers.

‘I don't know, but I hope someone will turn up.'

‘Right, well you can stay here in the entrance hall. Question anyone who looks suspicious, and if Tindall turns up, nick him. In the meantime, I'll make some arrangements for your relief.'

‘Do we know if Captain Villiers is here, Skip?'

‘No, he's not, but I doubt if it'll be long before he shows his face. He's due back from leave tomorrow, and I suppose he'll have to do some packing.'

Carter did not, however, have long to wait. Half an hour after Marriott had departed to make his way back to Cannon Row, an officer in the uniform of the Royal Artillery entered the lobby where Carter had stationed himself.

‘Mr Tindall?' queried Carter, taking a chance that he was right.

‘Yes.' The officer stopped and turned. ‘Who are you?'

BOOK: Hardcastle's Traitors
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