Cat Carlisle Book 2. Terry Thomas Lynn

some henchmen to do his dirty work?

      ‘You can’t walk away from this, Thomas. You’re too far in. Trust me when I tell you civilian life would not suit you. You’re not fully recovered yet, so you don’t appreciate how you enjoy the excitement. This type of work gets in your blood. You’d grow bored in months, maybe weeks. You and I both know you’ve grown accustomed to the money. Have you thought about finding a situation that pays you as well as I do? And, just in case you’re not feeling appreciated, I need your delicate expertise.’

      Liar. Thomas watched as Reginald fussed with his gold cufflinks. They had been doing this dance for years now. How many times had Thomas told Reginald he was finished with this business, only to have Reginald ignore his words and send him on another mission, often more harrowing than the last one?

      ‘If I say no?’

      ‘But you won’t.’ The old man stared at Thomas through heavy lidded eyes. He hurried on, not giving Thomas a chance to object. ‘You’re to go north, to a small village in Cumberland called Rivenby, under the guise of a rest cure. Take Cat Carlisle with you. I’ve arranged a house for her. When you approach her, tell her you’ve found her a house, you want her and the child safe when the bombs come. Scare her. Tell her they will come. She’ll be of use to you. She grew up in Rivenby, lived there until her parents died and she moved to London with her aunt. She’ll provide an in for you socially.’ Reginald tossed a sealed envelope onto Thomas’s lap. The envelope slipped to the floor. The old man watched as Thomas bent to pick it up, as if he knew Thomas’s attitude would change now given Cat Carlisle’s involvement.

      Thomas let himself get carried away by his fantasy of a life with Cat in a quaint village. They’d have a garden, and a house filled with sunlight. Oh, Cat. I hope I’ve not ruined it between us. He shook his head, focused on the dingy room and the miserable man who sat before him. After thirty years, Thomas knew there was no such thing as an easy mission. Why did he think there would be one now? When he spoke, his voice was calm and steady. ‘And the nature of the mission?’

      Reginald rubbed a hand over his face. For a fleeting moment Thomas saw the exhaustion there.

      ‘This is serious business, Thomas. One of ours has been murdered. She was a major player in the last war, a brilliant cryptographer. She worked in the field before we discovered she had talents in code breaking. She’s made her fair share of enemies. Two weeks ago someone tampered with the brakes of her car. It crashed and she died. I’m afraid an enemy from long ago has tracked her down.

      ‘She has a son, a Phillip Billings. His picture is in the packet, along with a scant dossier. Phillip’s quite the Lothario. Actually lived in a house owned by his boss’s wife, if you can believe that. She doted on him, bought him clothes, a car, the two were attached at the hip.’

      ‘Her husband didn’t mind?’ Thomas asked.

      ‘Apparently not. In any event, she caught him with another woman and kicked him out of the house. Despite a wardrobe full of tailored suits, she wouldn’t let him have anything but the clothes on his back. She was spiteful, tried to convince the police that he made off with a rare diamond necklace. Phillip came close to getting arrested, until the lady’s maid – she was rather involved with Phillip too, if the gossip is accurate – found the necklace hidden in her mistress’s desk. So Phillip returned to Rivenby penniless. He spends money like a lord and has accumulated a fair share of gambling debts.’

      ‘Does his mother have anything in her possession the Germans could use now? Something they would buy? It just seems far-fetched they would come after her now. Codes and tactics have changed since 1919.’

      Reginald shook his head. ‘Not sure.’

      ‘Local police?’

      ‘Treating it as a homicide. Investigation ongoing. The woman’s name is – was – Win Billings. She’s got a niece she doted on, named Beth Hargreaves. Beth’s husband died six years ago. They’ve got a daughter, Edythe, who is 18 years old. The two have been living with Win. Phillip expected to inherit, but his mother changed her will, leaving the bulk of her assets to Beth.’

      ‘So if Phillip killed her, it was for nothing? What about Beth? Could she have killed her aunt?’

      ‘Anything’s possible, but I doubt it.’

      Thomas had already made up his mind. Sir Reginald would get his way this one last time. Thomas would do so because of Cat. All he needed to do was convince her to go with him.

      ‘What exactly do you want me to do? I have no standing, and surely the police are working the case.’

      ‘I need your eyes, nothing more. This is strictly a watch-and-observe mission, with an eye towards interested parties who may try to influence the investigation or who show an unusual or inappropriate interest in things. There will be plenty of time for you to rest and take care of yourself. The country air will build your strength. The long walks in the woods will put the colour in your cheeks. I told the police you were coming as a favour to me. The DCI in charge, one Colin Kent, knows of Win’s service in the last war. Kent’s a good chap. He understands the lay of the land. He’ll give you no trouble. You can speak freely to him. Mutual cooperation is the operative word here.’

      Trust Sir Reginald to make it all sound innocuous.

      ‘So am I correct in understanding you want me to observe the investigation, keep my eyes open in the village, and determine if anyone involved with Fifth Column operations murdered this woman as a vendetta killing? You’d think they’d have more pressing matters, like the war at hand, rather than the settling of scores from twenty years ago.’

      ‘It is not as far-fetched as you think, old boy. Win was a dear friend, a brave operative who is – was – respected and admired by her colleagues. I need to know what her son has been up to, or if someone from her past tracked her down and killed her. If that’s the case, other agents could be in danger. Some of Win’s contacts in the last war are in play now. This is important, Thomas. I don’t trust anyone but you to handle this one.’

      ‘And Cat Carlisle? How is she to be involved in this? How do you suggest I make use of her?’

      ‘You will simply start working on your next book. I was thinking a detailed study of monastic houses in Cumberland should keep you busy for a few years. Cat is a gregarious creature. Before long, she’ll fall in with her childhood friends. You can accompany her to social functions and get a first-rate view of village life, get a sense for who belongs where.’

      ‘I thought you didn’t want her involved with our arrangement any longer. You said she – and I’m quoting now – was reckless, inconsistent, and too emotional for this sort of work.’

      Cat had worked for Sir Reginald briefly in 1937, when it came to light that a member of her household was stealing her husband’s classified documents and passing them on to a German agent. The mission had ended in disaster, with her husband’s murder and attention from the media.

      ‘Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep that mess with her husband off the front page of the papers? Mrs Carlisle is like a ticking bomb. She bumps into something – correction, she simply takes a breath – and things start exploding.’

      ‘That’s a little exaggerated, don’t you think?’

      ‘Just follow the orders, Thomas. Please.’

      ‘I haven’t seen her nor spoken to her since April, Reginald. I left – dropped off the face of the earth – without an explanation. I don’t suppose you took the time to let her know I’ve been in hospital recovering from a gunshot wound?’ Thomas didn’t wait for Sir Reginald’s response. ‘I didn’t think so. She’s probably furious with me. There’s a very good chance she won’t speak to me. If I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t.’

      ‘You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you? My God, I can see it on your face. You’ve fallen in love with her, but the feeling isn’t reciprocated.’ The old man tipped his head back and laughed.

      ‘My