In This Grave Hour (Maisie Dobbs #13)

“What now, miss?”


“I would give anything to discover a link between these two men. There has to be one, over and above them both being from Belgium and both being murdered in the same manner. Billy, you poke around using those photographs. It’s yeoman work, but it has to be done if we are to find a nugget to bite on. And I will look into their family lives—find out whether their wives might have been related, or even if there was some sort of thread at all between the Addens and the Durant families. Most important”—Maisie reached for a folder on her desk, then leaned towards Billy as she opened the file—“this is Sandra’s list of associations. Each one has a name for us to contact—an administrator of some sort. I would imagine that these have been disbanded now, but there are a handful of people here that we should really speak to.” She sighed. “I’m driving down to Chelstone tomorrow morning. It’s earlier in the week than I would have liked, what with this case in progress, but there are some problems with the evacuees, and everyone seems to be losing their heads.”

“Except your dad, of course.”

“Yes, except my father. He takes things in his stride, and it seems he’s already sorted out the boys.”

“I bet he’s got ’em working in the stables, miss—like he did with me, when I needed sorting out.”

“It’s worked for all of us at some point, Billy.” She made no mention of the “sorting out” that Billy referred to—an addiction to narcotics as a result of being over-medicated after he was wounded during the war.

“Do you think these administrator ladies—and they’re always ladies, aren’t they, that get stuck in to organize refugees and the like, and people needing a home—do you think they’ll remember?”

“I’m going to have to work my way through them. I’ll start tomorrow morning, before I go down to Chelstone.”

“All right, miss. I’ve got to catch up with these other cases, or we’ll be giving back the advances if we’re not careful. Then I’ll get back on it tomorrow morning.” Billy stood up, pushing back his chair. “What shall I tell Sandra, when she comes in?”

“This is a tricky one, but she has the right manner to do it. Just in case I can’t find out the information from these associations, ask her to place telephone calls to both the bank where Durant worked and the engineering office at St. Pancras—find out if they have a place of birth on file for each of the men.”

“Well, it would be Belgium, wouldn’t it, miss?”

“Yes, it would—but I want to know exactly where in Belgium. And I want to know if they came over here at the same time. I want to know if there was any way they would have had cause to meet—a social club, something like that. We might be overlapping in our searches here, but it won’t do any harm—if Frederick Addens had any cause to cross paths with Albert Durant during or after the war, I want to know about it.” Maisie made some additional notes on the case map. “And I want to know anyone else they were particularly close to—as a group, or individually.” She stepped towards her desk as Billy came to his feet, gathering his newspaper and notebook, but before he returned to the outer office, Maisie made one more comment. “We’ve had seemingly unconnected but similar cases before, and something always links them. We just have to find out what it is.”

“From where I’m standing, the only thing linking these two is your Dr. Thomas,” said Billy.

“I’m very aware of that, Billy. But remember, Dr. Thomas is very loyal to Belgium, so any adversity affecting a Belgian refugee from the war would affect her deeply. However, if she knows and is not telling, then you can bet it’s a matter of utmost secrecy—and she has been very clear regarding our need for care where the gathering of information is concerned.”

“And it could always just be a coincidence, couldn’t it? And we know you don’t believe in those.” Billy grinned. He knew only too well that Maisie would never discount a coincidence.

“Oh, I believe in the serendipitous moment, Billy. Just not too many at once. Remember what Maurice always used to say? ‘Coincidence is a messenger sent by Truth.’”

“We should write that on a big piece of paper and stick it on the wall, so it’s the first thing we see when we come into the office.”

“Not a bad idea, Billy. Not a bad idea.”