He handed me an envelope. Nice paper. Expensive. A relic of the family’s past. Grandfather sitting in his study writing important letters to important clients. I opened it. The letter was written in a barely legible scrawl. Three generations, they say, to go from rich man to poor.
The note was a threat. Not particularly intelligent. I could take it to Neesham and it would give him all he needed. But that would be the coward’s way out. If a job’s worth doing, Blakeney used to say, do it yourself. And this was a job that was well worth doing. The note read:
Your next
The grammatical error blunted the message. Harder to take a man seriously when he lays his lack of intelligence in front of you.
Someone was next, that much was true. But it wasn’t going to be me.
Margaret gave me a quizzical look as I took the drinks back to the table. I passed her a pint and a shot and took my place between Constance and Miriam. There was a pregnant pause.
‘What did I miss?’ I asked.
Everyone looked at Vaughn. He was clearly the one pulling the strings.
‘The thing is, Cook,’ Vaughn said, talking in a low murmur, ‘we reckon there’s a higher than fifty per cent chance you’re a plant. Sent to egg us on until we’re in it up to our necks.’
‘Margaret gets a pass, I suppose.’
‘We know Mags,’ Vaughn said. ‘We don’t know you.’
‘Difficult to prove a negative,’ I said.
I drank my beer and looked each of them in the eye, ending with Vaughn.
‘You’re right not to trust me,’ I said. That got Vaughn’s attention. He exchanged a look with Freddie.
‘People look at me, they see a farmer,’ I said. ‘Suits my purposes nicely, let’s me move about the countryside, talk to people. Keep my finger on the pulse.’
I leant in, and everyone else around the table followed my lead.
‘A month ago I was up in London to see an old friend for a pint. Army man. Knows what’s really going on. Knows how tenuous the whole thing is, especially since they locked up Mosley.’
I sipped my pint, gave it a long pause for dramatic effect.
‘I’ve been given a job,’ I said. ‘Keep an eye out for agitators. Report back to the authorities. It gives me access.’
Vaughn nodded.
‘I was told to infiltrate your unit,’ I said. ‘Margaret was the way in. Seduce her, get her to introduce me to you.’ I looked at Vaughn. ‘There are a lot of people high up in the War Office who’d like to see you brought down a peg or two. You’ve got them worried. They know if the invasion starts and you’re here, you’ll be a rallying point for right-minded people.’
Vaughn looked at Margaret.
‘She doesn’t know,’ I said. ‘Like I said. I’ve been using her. Not such an odious task, as you can imagine.’
Margaret got up from her chair. She looked shocked. I doubted she was buying my story. I hoped she wasn’t. Hoped this was her acting. If it was, she was doing a decent job.
She slapped me. The crack of it silenced the pub. Acting or not, it hurt like hell.
‘Margaret,’ Miriam said, getting up from her chair in support. Margaret rushed out of the pub, and Miriam followed.
I watched them go. When the door closed behind them, and the evening’s chatter resumed around them, I looked back at Vaughn and Freddie.
Vaughn was hooked. I could see the part about me using Margaret had got into his head. Probably imagining us together. Realising that was over, and she was available.
‘We’ve got an opportunity,’ I said. ‘I’ve got no love for the Germans but if it’s them in charge instead of us going through another four years of war, that’s a price I’m willing to pay. I was there last time. I’ve seen what war looks like.’
Vaughn leant back, thinking. I had him interested. He’d seen the bait, but he hadn’t decided whether or not he was going to bite.
