We Shall Not Sleep_ A Novel - Anne Perry [128]
“Lock them up,” the leader ordered. “We’ll find the people who say this is the German commandant. Someone must know.”
Before anyone could move to obey him there was a knock on the door. Almost immediately it opened, and Sergeant Hampton came in. He glanced around the faces and stopped when he recognized Joseph. “’Morning, Chaplain. You seem to be in a spot of bother.”
Joseph was weak with relief and astonishment. “Yes,” he gulped, drawing in air as if he had suddenly come to the surface from being close to drowning. “We are finding it hard to prove we are who we say.” Then, like sudden nausea, he realized that Hampton might have come to arrest him for desertion. At least the others could go on!
“Really?” Hampton looked at the Belgians. “Captain Reavley is chaplain with the Cambridgeshires at Ypres,” he said solemnly. “Major Reavley there is with the Secret Intelligence Service. Mr. Mason is one of our most distinguished war correspondents. Miss Reavley is an ambulance driver, and Mrs. Blaine is a nurse. I can swear to this because I have been conducting an investigation in which they were of assistance. Fortunately it is all cleared up now.” He fished in his pocket and brought out his police identification. “Sergeant Hampton of the British military police.” He displayed it but kept it in his hand.
“And him?” the narrow-shouldered man asked, looking at Schenckendorff. “Can you swear for him, too?”
“Of course. He is Colonel Schenckendorff, whom they are escorting to London. I would not like to have to insist that you permit them to go on their way unhindered, but I shall have to become unpleasant about it if you do not.” He had a revolver in his hand and was holding it with the muzzle pointing up, a little toward the middle of the man’s chest. The shot would undoubtedly have killed him. “Let us part amicably,” he said with a chilly smile. “This would be an ugly end to a war that we entered originally on your behalf, in order to keep a rather rash promise we made to you, before…all this.”
The Belgians looked at one another, uncertain now, and embarrassed.
Hampton did not wait. “I suggest you go outside and get back into your ambulance,” he said to Matthew. “I shall follow you, when I am certain there will be no…ill-considered behavior.”
Matthew did not hesitate. He led the way, and the others went after them, Hampton bringing up the rear.
Lizzie looked ill. Judith put an arm around her, half holding her up. Matthew went to the front. “I’ll drive,” he said, giving Judith no chance to argue.
Mason cranked the engine, then, as it fired, got in beside Matthew.
Joseph helped Schenckendorff, who was limping badly. Hampton was the last to get into the back, slamming the door behind him.
They jerked forward, then picked up speed, bouncing and lurching over the potholes in the road and slithering where the surface was wet and covered with mud.
Joseph looked at Lizzie. She smiled at him, eyes bright with relief.
“Thank you,” Schenckendorff said sincerely to Hampton.
“How did you know where to find us?” Joseph asked him.
Hampton gave a slight grimace. “Deduction,” he replied. “And a few discreet questions. You’ve chosen the best route. I did the same.” A ghost of warmth crossed his face, enigmatic rather than friendly. “You have friends.” He said something deeply uncomplimentary about the Belgians they had just left behind. “Won’t happen again,” he added, tapping his gun, which was now in the holster on his belt.
Joseph wondered if Hampton was actually part of some intelligence service rather than merely a military policeman seconded