Hans Faber. The name in the camera case. I had nearly forgotten it until this moment.
No. No. It cannot be. Stop thinking this, Jo. Stop it.
“Jo? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said. I raised my head. “I’m just upset. I’ve been over and over this so many times, and I never get any closer to an answer.”
Martin rubbed a hand over his face. “I know. I wish I could be more help. But you see, I did try.”
“I’m going to write Colonel Mabry,” I said. “If I meet with him, will you come?”
“Of course. What do you plan to ask him?”
“I want Alex’s military record—his file at the War Office. I’m certain the colonel has the authority to get it for me.”
Martin looked at me thoughtfully. “You can try it, Jo, but I don’t think the official record is going to tell you very much.”
“It’ll tell me more than I know now, which is nothing.” A thought occurred to me. “Unless you can pull more favors and get it for me?”
He shook his head. “My influence doesn’t reach that high, I’m afraid. But you know, I’ve heard Mabry’s name before. I’m sure of it. I’m just not certain where.”
“He seems rather high ranking,” I said, “though I don’t know much about these things. It isn’t strange that you’d have heard his name.”
“No, no, it wasn’t through the army. I have it now. It was Mabry’s son—he was in one of those hospitals, you know, for shell-shocked fellows. Do you remember the hospital in Yorkshire that was in the news a few years ago?”
I dimly recalled it. “The one that was closed due to mismanagement?”
“That’s the one. It was supposed to be an exclusive place, but there was an influenza outbreak and some sort of scandal.”
“I remember,” I said, “though I don’t remember Mabry’s name.”
“I do. The poor chap was one of the patients. That must have been a tough pill for a man like the colonel to swallow, having his son in a place like that. Not that I’m judging anyone—I’m in no position for it.”
The terrace door opened behind us, and a set of footsteps sounded across the stone. “It’s a little cold out here for telling secrets, isn’t it?”
We turned. Robert was coming toward us, the light from the house behind him casting him in silhouette. He was dressed in his usual dapper suit, his hair slicked back from his forehead. I had barely seen him in the weeks I’d been at Wych Elm House.
“Good evening, Papa,” Martin said. “Care to join us?”
“No, though I do admit I’m curious as to what you’re whispering about. Your heads are bent so close together I’m wondering if we should plan a wedding after all.”
The words had a teasing tone to them, but Martin ignored it. “Let me guess,” he said to his father. “Mother has spotted us out here and doesn’t like what she’s seen.”
Robert shrugged. I hadn’t considered anyone might have seen us from beyond the terrace doors. Now that I wasn’t going to marry her son, Dottie wouldn’t like the idea of my acting too intimate with him. “Your mother has asked me to call you in to supper,” Robert said, “which I have the misfortune to be home for tonight. You’re welcome to our table as well, Mrs. Manders.”
“That’s quite all right.” I stood and brushed off my skirt. “I have a headache. I’ll find something in the kitchen.”
Robert put his hands in his pockets and looked at me. I realized that although the light from behind the terrace doors put him in shadow, it illuminated me perfectly well in his view, and I felt exposed. “Scavenge for scraps in the kitchen? How sad. I don’t think we’ve treated you well since you came here, Mrs. Manders.”
“You don’t need to treat me any way at all,” I retorted. “I am capable of handling myself.”
“Such a fiery temper for a lady!” he said with a patronizing grin. “You have spent too much time with my wife. Still, I suppose you must fend for yourself, now that you’re not marriageable. Does it bother you, I wonder, to still be legally married to a man who’s been dead for three years?”
“Papa.” Martin had risen, though more slowly than me, and he now stood at my shoulder. “Enough.” He sounded tired.
Robert turned his attention to his son. From the aroma wafting from him, I realized he’d been drinking, though he held it well. “Your mother is in a mood tonight,” he said. “Something has excited her. I think perhaps she has her sights on a girl for you, though I haven’t asked.”
“Good,” Martin said. “Let her be excited, then. At least someone will be happy.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t had the doctors check that you’re capable of giving her grandsons,” Robert said. “Though for all I know, perhaps she has.”