Quenby shivered. “Did your mother think Eddie was helping the Nazis?”
“I wouldn’t accuse anyone . . . ,” she began, tea splashing over the side of her cup.
“I’m not looking for accusations, Mrs. Douglas. I’m trying to find the truth so I can locate the girl who lived with Olivia and him.”
Mrs. Douglas set her teacup back on its saucer. “Mother didn’t know if Eddie was a Fascist, but his grandfather was German. That’s why Olivia lost her job with Churchill. Everyone was suspect at the time.”
“Perhaps Eddie was suspect for good reason,” Quenby surmised.
“At the time, many British people thought Hitler was going to win.”
Had Eddie lost his life on one of his trips to Newhaven? If so, did one of Hitler’s men kill him or had Olivia finally had enough? Maybe she was tired of living in that dump of a house, of being Eddie’s pawn.
Quenby’s mind flashed back to those tombstones she’d seen, tangled up in the weeds near the Mill House.
Was it possible that Eddie was buried there? If so, what happened to Olivia and Brigitte after he died?
Quenby cruised south toward Newhaven on the A26, a file filled with photographs and newspaper articles from Mrs. Douglas on the seat beside her. The Mill House was the last place where Brigitte was known to be alive. And the place, Quenby suspected, where Eddie Terrell had died.
Olivia had given up her job for Eddie. Was it worth giving up her entire life to become a traitor with him? This Eddie must have been some charmer. Married to Olivia but sleeping with his boss while Olivia operated a safe house for them. Almost as if he and Lady Ricker had sent her away so the two of them could carry on their affair in private.
A real hero of a guy.
If someone had murdered Eddie, would Olivia have stayed with Brigitte at the Mill House? Quenby doubted it, unless Lady Ricker paid her handsomely to cooperate—and she never found out about the affair.
Then again, Quenby was assuming Olivia was a victim here. She could have supported Hitler’s cause on her own. Perhaps she’d even married Eddie because he was a Fascist. It was entirely possible that she knew about the affair and didn’t care.
Her phone rang, and she glanced down and saw Lucas’s number.
“You’re not talking while you’re driving, are you?”
She pulled into the parking lot of a Shell station. “Of course not.”
“Very good,” he said. “The plane will be waiting for us tomorrow morning at Biggin Hill. We’ll fly back on Wednesday.”
“We don’t need to stay in Florida an entire day.”
“Yes, we do. The pilots need to rest at least ten hours before we fly again.”
“What are we going to do for ten hours?”
“I say we go to Disney World.”
Her stomach rolled. Surely Lucas must not know what happened to her there. “I’ve already been.”
“But I never have.”
“Why not go to Disneyland in Paris?”
“Because I’m not going to be in Paris tomorrow,” he said. “This will be fun.”
Fun for him, perhaps, but not so much for her.
“Are you headed back to London now?” he asked.
“No, I decided to detour down to Newhaven.”
“Newhaven is hardly a detour.”
“Fair enough,” she said before telling him about the conversation she’d had with Mrs. Douglas. “There’s a cemetery near the Mill House. I thought Eddie Terrell might be buried in it.”
“You think someone murdered Eddie and then gave him a funeral?”
“I know it’s a long shot, but I want to check.”
“Kyle’s probably waiting to run you off the road again so he can rescue you.”
“I doubt it.”
“Should I take the train down to meet you tonight? We can visit the cemetery early in the morning and then drive to the airport together.”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. Venturing into the woods north of Newhaven was nothing compared to going back to Florida. “Do you mind if I keep your car overnight?”
“I don’t mind, but—”
“Yes?”
“Please be careful.”
“I will.”
It was almost six o’clock now. She wouldn’t race against the setting sunlight again to find the cemetery or risk having to knock on Kyle’s door after dark. But if she hurried, she would be able to visit the library before it closed. Eddie Terrell might not have had a formal burial, but if he had been murdered at the Mill House, perhaps the local newspaper wrote a story about it.
After hanging up with Lucas, she phoned Chandler to tell her she was returning to Newhaven. Evan hadn’t contacted her, she reported on her boss’s voice mail, but the more she searched, the more complicated—and disturbing—the story about Lady Ricker had become.