A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [115]
“Are you sure it’s not just youthful support for something new? Young people are wont to see the world in black and white, and to be taken with revolutionary ideas.”
“He is almost twenty-five years old! He is not just out of short trousers, and knows very well what he is doing. Men younger than he were laying down their lives in the war—and I am sure they saw a good deal of gray amid the black and white—” Maisie stopped herself, concerned that she had spoken out of turn.
“Point very well taken, Miss Dobbs. You have done exactly as I asked.” He ruffled through some papers as the motor car swung around Buckingham Palace. “Have you observed any activities that might give rise to suspicion that there is Bolshevik activity at the college, or any other college in Cambridge?”
“I have seen nothing to suggest there is a ‘red menace’ at the College of St. Francis—yet. However, in my opinion your department must be on the alert and not simply focus your concern on one strand of political belief. I realize the Communist threat is uppermost in the minds of the Secret Service, but you cannot rule out fascism as the greater threat to peace in the short term.” She turned to face Huntley. “You see, I believe the two go together. There will be those who see the likes of Robson Headley—and, further up the scale, of Adolf Hitler and Oswald Mosley—and they will be angered or scared by their rhetoric, so they will look to support what they believe to be the opposite, which is communism. And I’m not only talking about the young and impressionable, though they are the subject of our investigation at the moment.”
“I see. Well, you’ve made your point in no uncertain terms, Miss Dobbs.” He cleared his throat. “I realize MacFarlane and Stratton are still engaged in the investigation into Greville Liddicote’s death, and of course you were instructed not to become involved, but I know you a little better, I think—do you know who murdered Liddicote?”
Maisie looked at Huntley. “Ah, now that is a good question. I need to uncover some sort of proof, but I do believe I have a good idea of who took Liddicote’s life. However, there are others who are equally culpable.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t think I can tell you that, Mr. Huntley. Not without compromising the very promise I have made to you.”
“Well said, Miss Dobbs. Very well said.”
The black motor car came to a halt alongside Maisie’s crimson MG. She opened the door and exited before the driver could assist her.
“Be in touch, Miss Dobbs.” The vehicle pulled away before Maisie could respond.
She hoped Billy was still at the office; her next stop was Fitzroy Square. It was time to find out if there was news of the search for Sandra.
Chapter Eighteen
Has Caldwell come up with anything?” Maisie had taken off her hat and now sat at her desk, with Billy seated opposite her as she leafed through messages and unopened post. “What did he say this morning when you spoke to him?”
“Turns out this bloke that Sandra was on to is a right one—just like you said. He’s reeled him in, along with Reg Martin, though apparently Reg is as scared as they come. It was protection, as I said—and it went wrong. That poor girl.”
“But does anyone have any idea where she is? She must be terrified—that’s if Walling hasn’t had her picked up somewhere and silenced.” She pushed the pile of paper to one side.
“Miss, you don’t think—”
“I know, I’m not being very rational, am I? I’m terribly worried about her; I hope she’s just gone to ground somewhere—but where?”
They were silent for a while. Maisie was concerned with all there was to be accomplished in just a short time. Tomorrow she would return to Ipswich, and afterward—dependent upon the outcome of her business in Knowsley—straight back to Cambridge to find MacFarlane and Stratton.
“And there was another telephone call from that Miss Robinson at the Compton Corporation again.”
Maisie looked up. “Oh yes, I’m to collect a letter. It seems using a