At Some Disputed Barricade_ A Novel - Anne Perry [97]
Most men simply said they had no idea of Judith’s whereabouts. Others had observed her in at least half a dozen different places at the time of the escape, all miles from the farmhouse. She and Wil Sloan were the only ones about whom such a variety of lies were sworn to. All other V.A.D. staff were in one place only.
These men were not very sophisticated liars. If Joseph could follow that trail so easily, so could Faulkner, once he thought where to look. Then there was only one possible end: Wil and Judith would be arrested and charged. All the lies in the world would not help, because the truth was obvious. He had thought only a little while ago that it was someone extremely clever; now he thought perhaps only supremely brave, and trusting in the loyalty of the men. The guards might even have been party to it.
He walked in the late afternoon mist, his boots sodden and sloshing in the mud. He moved slowly because he had no wish to arrive. The gunfire sounded far away, over the rise and beyond the woods toward Passchendaele itself—or what was left of it. All along the Ypres Salient there were miles of mud and blasted tree stumps, craters with corpses floating in the stagnant water, some still wreathed in the heavy poison gas.
He could imagine the scene at night: Judith and Wil Sloan arriving in the ambulance, possibly even two ambulances. They would stop. One would get out, probably Judith, tired, tense, her face pale in the headlights, skirts heavy and dark with mud. She would have gone up to the guard and asked for something—perhaps fresh water or another blanket.
Wil might have waited until they were occupied helping her, and crept up. Or had they simply been honest and said what they wanted, and asked for help? Joseph might never know, and it did not matter. Without thinking about it at all, he knew if they were ever facing trial, they would say they had done it by violence and deceit. They would see that no one else was blamed.
Joseph reached Colonel Hook’s dugout. He pulled back the sacking and saw the light burning inside. He knocked on the lintel.
Hook looked up and waved Joseph in. Fear was in his eyes for an instant, then he mastered it. “Yes, Captain Reavley? Have you found out anything about the escape?”
“Nothing at all, sir,” Joseph said instantly. “It could have been anyone at all. The only answer is to see if we can find the escaped men. I am quite certain that only one of them is guilty of murder. The others did no more than…than behave insubordinately, provoked by extraordinary circumstances. Then we could have a court-martial that would be fair and reasonable…sir.”
“We have no chance of finding the men, Reavley. They could be anywhere. Unless—” Hook stopped. “Do you believe you can?” His face puckered, gaunt with weariness. He did not daresay it, but he was begging Joseph not to tell him what he did not want and could not afford to know.
“I believe so, sir.” Joseph stayed standing to attention. “If I have your permission, I would like to try. Immediately.”
“They have several days’ start on you,” Hook pointed out.
“I know. But I think the Royal Flying Corps might give me a little help if I explain. And if you give me orders…sir?”
“Try,” Hook said quietly. “And God help you!”
CHAPTER
NINE
The day after Wheatcroft’s death, Matthew received an urgent summons from Dermot Sandwell. He had asked for Sandwell’s help, but he had not expected to hear from him so soon. He went eagerly, even with a sharp flutter of excitement. He found his heart beating hard as he strode along the pavement, bumping into people unintentionally, having to apologize. He had spent three years seeking the identity of the Peacemaker, moving from one fear to another, hoping and yet also dreading the moment when he could no longer deny that it was someone he knew and liked. It had to be someone his father had once trusted, and that trust