Part 22 (1/2)

”I want to find someone. The family of a girl who died in service nearly fifteen years ago. And I don't know how to begin.”

My father's eyes met Simon's across the table. ”And if I help you find this family, you'll come home with me?”

”Yes. No. I don't know. It will depend on many things.”

”Does this have to do with Arthur and his message?”

”Arthur must have been all of eleven at the time Lily died,” I replied, evading his question.

”I see.” I don't think he did. But one could never be sure with my father.

Finally he added, ”All right. Simon knows people. Give me the name of the family and we'll see what he can discover.”

”I think it's hopeless. But I have to try. The girl's name was Lily. Lily Mercer. And she was murdered in a house on Carroll Square, Number 17. I want to know what became of her family.”

Simon had finished his flan. ”I'll leave the motor with you, then, shall I?” he said to my father, and then to me, ”I'll bring whatever I can learn to the flat. Tomorrow morning. Will that do?”

”How are you going about this?” I asked, more than a little alarmed.

He grinned. ”One of the lads in the regiment is now a sergeant in the Metropolitan Police.”

Before I could ask him to be circ.u.mspect, he was gone-a tall, slender man striding through the restaurant as if he were about to lead the regiment into battle.

”Who is Lily Mercer?”

I turned quickly to face my father. ”Let me do what needs to be done. And afterward, I'll tell you what I can.”

”I don't care to find you involved in a murder, even an old one.”

”I'm not involved. I just want to know what became of this girl's family afterward. Whether they were satisfied that justice had been done.”

”Why is it so important to you? Tell me that?”

”You'll learn soon enough, if Simon speaks to the police. It had to do with the Graham family.”

”You told me it had nothing to do with the message you carried.”

”No, I told you that Arthur was only eleven at the time.”

He smiled. ”You are no better at lying to me now than you were at seven.”

”I don't want you taking charge and doing it all your way. I want to satisfy myself in my own fas.h.i.+on. I can't do anything about the past, I can't bring back the dead, but I think Arthur was-changed by what happened in Carroll Square, and perhaps he'll rest a little easier at the bottom of the sea if I finish what he never could.”

”All right. That's fair enough.” He signaled to the waiter, and we left the subject of Lily Mercer until we reached the street. As we walked to where Simon had left the motorcar, my father said, ”We'll say nothing of this to your mother. Is that agreed?”

”Yes. Oh, yes.”

”And if you should find yourself in over your head in this business, you'll remember to call in the cavalry, won't you?”

”I promise.” He handed me into the motorcar, and as he walked around to the driver's side, I thought, This is my chance. This is my chance. I could tell him about Peregrine, and let him see to finis.h.i.+ng what I'd inadvertently begun in Owlhurst. I could tell him about Peregrine, and let him see to finis.h.i.+ng what I'd inadvertently begun in Owlhurst.

But I couldn't. It wasn't clever to deal with a murderer, let alone a man who has spent years in an asylum. It wasn't clever to hide an armed man with a history of murder in his background. It wasn't at all clever to think I could do what I'd set out to do, alone and in the dark.

Yet if I sounded the alarm now, Peregrine would be returned to the asylum to live out his life there. And the truth would be locked away with him.

If Arthur had had any part in what had happened to Lily Mercer, I wanted to know.

He was only eleven, the little voice in my head reminded me. the little voice in my head reminded me.

Who was I to say that a child of eleven could or couldn't kill. I didn't even know if a child that age really understood the significance of killing.

I remember one summer morning in India when the box wallah came to tell the cook that his favorite grandson was dead. The boy had been bitten by a cobra that had been called out of its hole in the roots of a tree near the river by the boy's own cousin with a flute he had made for himself from a reed. It was called an accident, a tragic accident, but other children told me later what the adults hadn't known, that the cousin had been eaten up by jealousy and wanted the boy out of the way. They were both nine.

I had told my ayah, my Indian nanny, what I'd learned, but she said to me, ”It was the boy's time to die, don't you see? If it hadn't been, the cobra would never have come, no matter how much the cousin had played his flute.”

Her fatalism had frightened me far more than the death of the boy. It claimed that the universe I knew wasn't run by a benevolent G.o.d, as I'd been taught, but by Chance, a system where one's turn was dictated by forces over which one had no control.

My father was saying, ”You must get this altruistic nature from your mother, not me.”

I laughed in spite of myself. ”That indicates a choice in the matter,” I told him. ”This wasn't so much choice as it was thrust in my face when I wasn't looking.”

The Colonel dropped me at my flat.

As I watched him drive away, I wished I'd had the forethought to ask him to stay in London, within reach, and not return to Somerset just yet.

Then I turned and hurried into the flat, where Peregrine and Diana were comfortably discussing a visit she'd made to Rochester shortly before the war. But his eyes as I came through the door flicked to my face on the instant, searching for any sign of betrayal.

Diana went out that night to dine with friends, and I made dinner for Peregrine and myself.

”What did you tell your father?”

”That I was in London to discover what had become of Lily Mercer's family.”

He started up, sensing betrayal.

”Sit down. I can't track them alone. Nor can you. The best chance we have is to use my father's connections. You don't know the Army, Peregrine-the regular Army. It's as tightly knit a group as the Knights Templar-or the Masons or the Catholic Church. If there's a way to find them, my father will.” I had left out Simon Brandon. Don't muddy the waters too far, my girl. Don't muddy the waters too far, my girl.

Besides, no military plan should be without a line of retreat.

But Peregrine was nothing if not astute.

”Who was the man with your father? The one waiting with the car?”

I would have sworn, if I'd been my father's son instead of my father's daughter. As it was, I was sorely tempted.

The windows of Elayne's room looked down on the street. I had forgot.

”His batman. My father retired as a Colonel. Simon had risen to sergeant major. But they served together when my father was a lowly lieutenant, and the bond has lasted all these years. Simon drives my father, he always has.”

”But he didn't drive you back here, did he?”