To Die but Once (Maisie Dobbs #14)(55)

“Ask the guard to fetch him, and bring him to this office.” He turned to Maisie. “I should like to be present during your inquisition, if that’s all right,” said Cobb.

Maisie took account of Cobb’s stance—he had now come to his feet. It occurred to her that, perhaps, in civilian life he had not known much respect from his peers, that he had yearned for a measure of power, some sense of having an edge over others. He had possibly been all but invisible in school days, hence his need to sit while the sergeant stood—affirming his position—and then to stand as soon as the sergeant had left the room. Maisie leaned back in the chair, placing her elbows on the arms and stretching into the space allowed her.

“I’d like to talk to him in private—if that’s all right,” said Maisie. “It might be easier if Corporal Wickham had no cause to feel intimidated by the presence of an officer in the room. You are, after all, his superior.” She left the word “superior” hanging, suspended in the air between them, a word chosen to stroke an ego as if it were a dog to be calmed.

“Yes, quite,” said Cobb.

A single knock at the door signaled Packham’s entrance, with Teddy Wickham close behind. The young man was of average height, about five feet ten inches, and with reddish-blond hair. His gray eyes held no sparkle, though as soon as he saw Cobb, he snapped to attention, his chest pushed out and his back ramrod straight when he saluted the officer.

“At ease, Wickham,” said Cobb. “This is Miss Dobbs. She has something to discuss with you in private—which I am allowing on this occasion.” He looked at Maisie, again as if to underline his position. “A guard will be waiting outside and will escort you to your motor car directly you’ve finished in here, Miss Dobbs.” He turned back to Wickham. “And, corporal, you will immediately return to your duties.” He pronounced the word “immeejetly.”

“Yes, sir!” Wickham saluted again, his heels snapping together.

“And please don’t do that—you look like a bloody Nazi,” added Cobb as he and Packham left the room.

“You can breathe again and sit down now, Teddy—pull up that chair so you’re on this side of the desk.”

“Are you sure, miss, I mean—”

“Of course. Come on, sit down.”

Wickham picked up his chair and set it down so that it was diagonally situated to Maisie—not opposite and not alongside. She smiled. Whether deliberate or instinctive, he had seated himself in a neutral place.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” asked Wickham.

“Joe Coombes,” said Maisie.

Teddy Wickham nodded and looked down at his hands. “I heard he was dead. Probably the job what did it.”

“Tell me what you mean, Teddy?”

“Being away from home. Joe was a soft one—and all this business, going around painting these buildings, it wasn’t doing him any good at all.” He had leaned forward, his shoulders rounded, his arms now folded.

“But you said he was on ‘top form’—those were your exact words, according to Phil Coombes.”

“Well, he was, in a way—but it was as if he couldn’t get comfortable. On one hand he was having a bit too much fun with the lads, if you ask me. I mean, he wasn’t used to the late nights, that sort of thing. And on the other, he was on his own—the apprentice, not one of the boys.”

“Late nights? That doesn’t sound like the Joe I knew,” said Maisie.

Wickham looked up. “Didn’t know you knew him.”

“Yes, I know Phil and Sally, and I knew Joe. Not Archie though.” She sighed. “What makes you think Joe was having that many late nights? Was he drinking?”

Wickham shrugged. “Might’ve been. He was away from home, away from having the collar round his neck, so he was enjoying himself.”

Maisie folded her arms and leaned forward, mirroring Wickham.

“What do you do here, Teddy?”

“All sorts, but mainly stores, supplies and ordering. Boring really. But it’s steady, and I won’t be out there fighting, or up there in the air fighting, or on a ship fighting.”

“Not a bad move,” said Maisie.

“Wasn’t deliberate—luck of the draw. It’s where I ended up.”

“Do you get much leave?”

“More than some, I suppose. More than them going up and over there to fight the Germans.”

“So that’s how you were able to see Joe, make sure he was all right.”

“Saw him a couple of times.”

“How did you manage to get into the stores job? Sounds like a cushy number to me. What did you do before you joined up?” asked Maisie.

“I worked in a warehouse. Same sort of thing—they like to use what you’ve already got, I suppose—and like I said, it’s the luck of the draw. Always is.”

Maisie nodded. “Where was the warehouse—where you worked before the war?”

“Sydenham.”

“Oh, then you weren’t far from Archie then?”

Wickham shrugged. “No, not far, just up the road. He’s got a job that keeps him in civvy street though, jammy whatsit that he is.”

Maisie nodded, and when she spoke it was with a softer voice. “You’re very upset about Joe, aren’t you, Teddy?”