“I think she was just startled when you drew back the curtain. The situation was scary. Don’t you think?”
“I’m not so sure.”
Viv
Viv barely looked where she was going when she left the ward. She was seeking a quiet spot to make a phone call. A recess where some empty wheelchairs were parked would do. She tucked herself in beside them and pulled out her phone.
Finally, she had information. Anya Brown had met with her father to work on part of his manuscript collection that was up in Scotland, and she didn’t want her mother to know. Sid was suspicious of Anya’s colleagues. These were golden nuggets of information, both highly valuable to the Kats, she was sure of it.
Information is precious. Their motto.Hermotto, too, since she’d joined the Order.
Her heart was racing. She put her hand to her chest and felt it pound. This was exhilarating, because it had been a long time coming. Not that she’d minded caring for Rose Brown. Being of service was a special sort of calling, and Rose had been an uncomplaining patient and surprisingly good company in spite of her views on men and marriage. But a breakthrough like this was what Viv had been waiting for.
She made the call. When her mentor answered she heard herself gabbling as she relayed everything she’d learned and held her breath as she waited for the reaction.
“This is excellent work,” Judith said.
Viv had never met Judith, but she liked to imagine that she had a beautiful home, a detached house with a large garden, thoughtfully decorated. A real home for her and her family. Judith hadn’t told her many details about her private life because the Order had strict rules about privacy. All Viv knew was that she was married.
As Judith talked, Viv basked in the praise, and her fingertips found her favorite charm on her bracelet: St. Katherine’s wheel. They traced its small circumference, bumping over the nubs along its outer edge. What comfort it gave her. What strength.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Judith said. “Stay close to them, keep your ears open, and report everything, especially information regarding the manuscripts. Pay extra attention to that, please. I’m going to let everyone know about your superb work. You’ll be very well rewarded for this.”
Her words made Viv feel warm and wanted. She was invisible to so many people, but never to the Order.
When the call ended she made her way back to the ward. Her expression soured as she went. Anya Brown really got on Viv’s nerves.
If Anya were a proper, dutiful daughter, who took responsibility, then she’d stay home and care for her mother instead of chasing a career. Even worse, was Anya’s attitude to her boyfriend. She didn’t know how lucky she was to have a good man like him, and it was a disgrace the way she put her career before her relationship. It was Viv’s opinion that Anya should have modified her ambitions to support his. But it was all take, take, take with Anya. She’d made that lovely man trail after her in a way that must be humiliating for him. And what’s more, Rose was paying a small fortune for Viv’s services while Anya was away doing whatever she wanted. Did Anya never think that her mother might prefer to get the cottage roof fixed? Or to take a holiday when she was well enough?
If Viv had ever had the chance to get a man like Sid, she’d have done everything to support him. He was handsome and clever and kind. Life with a man like him was all Viv had ever wanted. For decades she’d dreamed of it. Babies. A family. A passport into the world of married couples. But most of all, a man who she could support and, when necessary, gently guide.
The bones of men are the scaffold on which we hang our power.
Such a powerful phrase from the Order. It thrilled her.
The Order had promised her they would do what they could to help her find a suitable match if she worked hard for them. She’d simply had bad luck so far, they assured her, but they planned tochange that. Many men became newly available for marriage in their fifties, dumped by selfish, impulsive women who saw married life as drudgery. Some of those men, sadly, would be snapped up by much younger women. Everyone knew that, and it was unfortunate for the older widows and spinsters, but it was a part of man’s nature that they simply had to accept. They would do their best to find Viv a husband as soon as she’d finished this assignment successfully.
She’d reached the door of the ward, and she pressed the buzzer. The plan was to apologize for rushing away so abruptly. She would explain that it all just got too much for her, that she should have listened to Anya’s advice to rest more. She’d got emotional, she would say, but she was fine now.
They’d swallow that explanation easily because they thought she was just another middle-aged woman fulfilled by a life of service. That was fine by Viv. It was the reason the Order was so effective. She muttered another of their maxims as she waited:
“Service is our camouflage. Invisibility is our strength. We build power in the shadows.”
She loved that.
A nurse answered the intercom. “I’m here to see Rose Brown,” Viv said, facing the camera. The door buzzed open, and she entered the ward.
She was ready to do whatever was necessary. When her mentor had explained what her final instructions might include, Viv hadn’t balked. As Judith knew, it wouldn’t be the first time Viv had helped someone over to the other side.
Chapter Eleven
Clio
Clio met DC Izzy Adefope at the evidence-storage facility. Diana Cornish’s clothing and belongings had been bagged up and were laid out on a table.
Clio liked Izzy immediately. They were of a similar age, and Izzy was doing the job Clio would have gone for if she hadn’t landed her role in the Art and Antiques Squad. The Murder Squad wasn’t for the fainthearted, and Izzy had an implacability about her that Clio admired and recognized as a necessary requisite for any woman who wanted to succeed in criminal investigations.
Gloves on, she looked through Diana’s belongings. The dress was badly made, unlined, and made from cheap fabric, the sort of minimum-quality stuff you’d invest in for a fancy-dress party or for Halloween. The headscarf was also cheap: an unhemmed strip of muslin that could easily be purchased by the meter.
