To Die but Once (Maisie Dobbs #14)(20)

“I wonder if you might be able to help me,” said Maisie. “I’m looking for someone who can tell me if the painting crew is still here at Andover, or even in the area if they’ve moved on. You probably saw them—from Yates and Sons in London. They’re applying a fire retardant to the buildings. My friend’s son is among them—he’s a young apprentice—and they fear he’s ill and needs to return to his home.” She passed a calling card and her identity card through the open window of the Alvis. The guard flipped from one card to the next. “As you can see,” added Maisie, “I’m an investigator, and as I was in the area on a personal matter, I said I would try to find out how he is.”

The guard looked around at his fellow serviceman, who was now standing outside the guardhouse.

“Call the ops room—ask Captain Michaels if he can come down, would you? Unexpected visitor. Civilian.”

“Oh, and if you would like additional confirmation of my identity, you can call Detective Chief Inspector Caldwell of Scotland Yard.”

“Just pull over there, Miss Dobbs. You won’t have to wait long.”

Five minutes later a motorbike approached the other side of the gate, its rider clad in a leather jacket over a distinctive blue-gray uniform. He cut the engine, removed the leather jacket, pulled a cap from a pannier at the side of his motorbike, and approached the guard. Maisie saw the guard pass her identity and calling cards to the officer, who seemed to raise an eyebrow as he looked at Maisie and—she thought—made some sort of joke when he turned back to the men, as the two guards laughed in response. He stepped across to her motor car.

“Miss Dobbs—Captain Michaels.” He touched his cap by way of greeting. “You’re interested in the painting crews.”

“Crews? I am only interested in one crew—as you probably know, they’re working at airfields around the country, applying a type of fire retardant. It has quite a distinctive, unpleasant odor, so I am sure if they’ve been here, you would have smelled it in every room.”

He nodded, studying her calling card and identity card again.

“I told the guard, you can place a call to Scotland Yard, if you—”

Michaels, who Maisie estimated to be a good six feet tall, leaned toward the window, resting his right hand on the roof of the Alvis. “That won’t be necessary. Your possible arrival here was already noted and clearance given to allow you to enter—friends in high places, eh?” His look was one of amused disdain.

“If you have already received clearance for me, then I suppose I do have friends in the right places—though I certainly didn’t request such favoritism.”

“Well, there’s not much to tell you, Miss Dobbs—or I’d ask you into the mess for a chat. Yes, we’ve had painting crews—some working on the outside, and some working on the interiors of the buildings. They’ve moved on now, and I think they’re over at our decoy site—but of course, now I’ve told you that, if I find out you’re an enemy agent after all, I’ll have to kill you.” There was a second’s delay before he grinned.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to go that far,” said Maisie, smiling in return. “But what’s a decoy site?”

“It’s fake—everything about it is fake. Fake buildings, fake aircraft, fake people—no, just kidding about the people—but from the air it looks like a place of substance and will draw enemy aircraft away from Andover. We have a lot going on here. I’m sure you know that.”

“And where is the decoy?”

“Hurstbourne Tarrant. Mind you, by the time you get there, the painters could have moved on again—that one would have been faster to go over, and perhaps not so crucial. After all, if the enemy bomb the place, we want it to look like they scored a good one with lots of fire and flames. Anything to keep them away from here.”

“Right—I’ll go over there.”

The officer shrugged. “You’ve got the clearance.”

Maisie nodded, and held out her hand. “Do you fly, Captain?”

“Oh yes—just doing a spot of desk duty today. Had a thumper of a headache this morning, so had to go to the sick bay. But I’ll be back in the air later. I’m on Blenheims.”

“And you’re going into France?”

The young man tapped the side of his nose and smiled. “Can’t say. Even you don’t have clearance for that.”

And at that moment, Maisie knew this officer—who seemed far too young for such a job—would be bound for France, and with his squadron would be doing all he could to press back the German army who were fast approaching the beaches where soldiers were beginning to gather. Without thinking she placed her hand on the top of his arm.

“Safe landings, Captain. I wish you safe landings.”

“Much obliged, Miss Dobbs. Now then—must be getting on.” And with that he returned to his motorbike, removed his cap and pushed it down into the pannier, and pulled on his leather jacket once more, though he did not fasten it. Maisie watched as he turned the bike, and made off in the direction of the airfield buildings at speed, his jacket flapping out with the wind like a pair of wings.

“All right, miss?” said the guard.

“Yes, thank you. Could you give me directions to Hurstbourne Tarrant?”