A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [120]
“I understand there’s been an increase in this sort of thing, Maisie,” said Douglas Partridge.
“I had a similar case just recently,” added Maisie. “Only the villain in that one was a loan shark who had expanded his business interests.”
“This is all making me very nervous, Maisie,” said James.
“Me, too,” said Priscilla, turning to James. “I’ve been telling Maisie for a long time that she should find something less threatening to do.”
“Oh, but that wouldn’t be Maisie, would it, darling?” James leaned across and squeezed Maisie’s hand, while Maisie smiled at Priscilla, who rolled her eyes.
“Walling had acquired some motor cars needing repairs—likely all of them were stolen,” said Maisie. “He asked—by which I mean he told—Reg Martin, Eric Tapley’s employer, that he had the job, and was to complete the work in a very short time—or else. Reg and Eric were working flat out.”
“I would have thought that, on the contrary, they might have had time on their hands—aren’t those sort of businesses having trouble at the moment?” said James.
Maisie shook her head. “If you’ve decided not to buy a new motor car, you have to spend more on keeping the old one on the road, so Reg wasn’t doing too badly, but he was worried about taking on another mechanic to help out, only to lay him off when this influx of work from Walling dried up. To cut the story short, Reg ran late with a job, he complained that it was more than they could take on, and Walling had equipment tampered with, just to scare Reg. But Walling’s men obviously took things a bit too far, because Eric was killed. And Sandra was not going to let it go. She had been suspicious for a while, because she had been doing the books for Reg, then he had suddenly told her he didn’t need her to do them anymore. She realized what had transpired, and broke into Walling’s offices—to go through his books—only to discover that he was sending money overseas. Of course, little of this came out when she was held at Vine Street. I asked Billy to speak to a Scotland Yard man we know, and apparently they’ve had their eyes on Walling for a while. He’s increased his activities to enable him to send as much money as possible to relatives in Spain—his mother is Spanish. Surprisingly, it wasn’t for reasons of criminal intent, though there are people in Spain who would think so. It was to help family members, people who had become dispossessed due to the political turbulence over there.”
“This is the sort of talk that rather scares me, to tell you the truth,” said Priscilla, extinguishing a cigarette, then placing another in the long holder, lighting it, and inhaling deeply.
At that moment, Douglas and Priscilla’s sons came bounding into the dining room, and it seemed the four walls echoed with the sounds of childhood exuberance.
The three boys clustered around James Compton—the fact that he had been with the Royal Flying Corps during the war had made him a firm favorite with Priscilla’s airplane-mad boys. Maisie looked at James as he pulled the youngest, Tarquin, onto his lap and fielded their questions. She turned her attention to Priscilla, who was seated next to her, and realized her eyes had filled with tears.
“I get so inexplicably scared at times, Maisie,” Priscilla whispered to her friend.
Maisie took her hand, knowing the memory of losing three beloved brothers in the war sometimes filled Priscilla with a dark dread of the future.
“Look at the time. I suppose you ought to be on your way, Maisie.” Priscilla stood up, squaring her shoulders as if she were prepared to take command of the world once more. “Right, you three toads. I don’t know what made you think you could return from the park and rush straight into the dining room without washing hands, or while grown-ups are talking. Elinor doubtless has