At Some Disputed Barricade_ A Novel - Anne Perry [110]
Joseph knew exactly why the captain was refusing, and he understood the pity and the revulsion behind it. He liked the man the more for it. “That’s not the whole picture,” he said, meeting his companion’s eyes. “They would be fugitives for the rest of their lives. Never go home again. And I think all but one of them are innocent. I want to give them the chance to come back and clear their names.”
“Of murder and mutiny?” Jones-Williams’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “They’ll shoot them. They’ll have no choice.”
“I think the officer’s father, who is a general, might push pretty hard to get the charge withdrawn.”
“Really?” Jones-Williams still looked skeptical.
“A capital charge has to be pretty thoroughly proved,” Joseph pointed out, “and the defendants given every opportunity to put their case.”
The drone of an airplane broke the silence above, sounding like an angry insect. Automatically Joseph glanced upward as it made its way lower and sank toward the airfield, sputtering now and then.
Jones-Williams chewed his pipe stem a moment. “I’d have thought in this instance those two were rather the same. Their defense that the man was an ass, and a dangerous one at that, gives the prosecution their motive on a plate. Doesn’t excuse shooting him, though, even to save their own lives. On that score they could get rid of half the officers we’ve got!”
“Thing is,” Joseph went on thoughtfully, “General Northrup won’t enjoy having the court-martial drag out and prove each point of his son’s incompetence, and exactly how many men were maimed or killed because of it. Even the surgeon, Captain Cavan, soon to be V.C., felt no alternative but to put him on trial.”
The plane landed at last, and Joseph felt his shoulders ease with relief that it was safe.
Jones-Williams took the pipe out of his mouth. “So what do you want from us? A lift as far as possible along the line to look for them?”
“That’s exactly what I’d like. I realize it’s only a chance I’ll find them, but it’s worth a try. You’d better see my authority.” He fished in his pocket for the paper.
“What?”
Joseph smiled. “Well, I could be a deserter looking for a damn good start eastward myself!”
“No point. Your dog collar could be real or not, but at your age you could reasonably beg out anyway.”
Joseph winced. “Depends how desperate we are. You won’t have them in the R.F.C., but we have fourteen-year-olds in the army. Lied about their age, of course, but we know. Sooner or later they say something that gives them away.” He stopped abruptly.
“That was a bit tactless of me,” Jones-Williams said by way of apology. “Come on and I’ll find you someone to take you up for a look, and drop you off as near to the Swiss border as you think you want.” He turned and sauntered over toward the line of hangars beyond the smaller buildings of offices and control tower.
Joseph followed him, catching up quickly. He glanced once at the three planes drawn up on the strip, including the one just landed.
“Take you in something much bigger than those,” Jones-Williams said cheerfully. “Two-seater. One of the observation planes. Keep low much of the time. Hedgehopping, we call it. D’you know how these fellows of yours went? Got a car or anything?”
“On foot, at least to begin with,” Joseph replied.
“Won’t have got far, then. Hey, Vine!” he called to a slender young man in R.F.C. uniform, goggles and scarf around his neck, flying jacket slung over his shoulder and helmet swinging from his hand.
“Yes, sir?” Vine paused a few yards away from them, more or less to attention.
“Chaplain here is from the army,” Jones-Williams explained. “He’s looking for a hand to find a few fellows gone AWOL. He thinks if they come back they’ll have a chance of doing better than if they keep on running. Wouldn’t like to take him along the lines a bit, would you?”
“Of course,” Vine agreed obligingly, turning to look at Joseph curiously. “How far, Chaplain?”
“Until you find them.