“Shelpot,” Maggie said and pointed. “The village. The surgery’s down there. Just past the church. Dr. Glover.”
It was a long, rambling house with a thatched roof and a pretty garden.
His nurse answered my knock, saw the cart with two bloodstained women in it, and with a shocked “Oh my dear Lord,” she went to fetch the doctor.
He was a man of perhaps sixty years of age, straight as an arrow and strong enough to lift Mrs. Palmer himself and carry her into his surgery. I ushered Maggie in after him.
The nurse was sent for tea while the doctor examined my two patients. Looking at my uniform at one point, he asked, “On leave, are you? Well, it’s a good thing you were, or Mrs. Palmer might not have made it. She’s lost a good deal of blood, and her breathing is not as comfortable as I’d like to see it. There’s the bullet, of course, but at the moment the bleeding worries me most. I’ll have to keep her here. Maggie as well, I should think. I’m not happy with either of these women returning to the house.” He finished rebinding Maggie’s wound with proper bandaging and reached for the teacup his nurse had set on his desk. “Gunshot wounds are rare hereabouts. Who did this? Any idea?”
“Ralph Mitchell. So I was told.”
“Good God. I thought he was in France.”
“So, apparently, did Mrs. Palmer.”
“His father owned a farm some miles from here. Young Mitchell took it into his head that he was going to marry Julia Baldwin. Made a right nuisance of himself instead, and then when he failed to qualify as an officer, he blamed everyone but himself and swore he’d win the VC before the war ended.”
“Baldwin,” I repeated. “What was her father’s name?”
“Tobias. An Army man himself, although he’d been invalided out. Recalled to do something or other in London. Died there in a Zeppelin raid.”
I knew who Tobias Baldwin was. And he hadn’t died in a Zeppelin raid. That was the official reason, but he’d been killed during one, and his murderer had never been caught. He’d worked for my father, and the fear early on was that his death had to do with his work. As time went by, that seemed more and more unlikely.
Was Ralph Mitchell in London when Captain Baldwin died? My father would have to look into that.
I remembered what Maggie had told me. That Mitchell had stood over Julia and cried, “Damn you, Crawford!” And he had had more than an hour’s head start-
“I must find a telephone,” I said quickly.
“Actually, there’s one at the house. Baldwin had it put in when he began reporting to London and Mrs. Palmer chose to live here after her father died in the bombing rather than stay in her husband’s London house. She believed it was safer, poor woman.”
If that was the case, where were Trelawney and Private Morton?
There was no time to consider that. I had only a dogcart at my disposal, and that wouldn’t carry me any great distance in pursuit of a motorcar. I needed to make the calls that Trelawney hadn’t. And as far as that went, where on earth was he? What had become of Private Morton? I was beginning to worry that they had run afoul of Mitchell somehow.
After asking Dr. Glover to send someone to the house of the Palmers’ cook’s daughter, to let her know what had become of her mistress, I set out alone in the dogcart, against all advice.
“If Mrs. Palmer is in danger, you will be as well, Sister,” Dr. Glover warned me. “He could come back. The man’s not stable if he’d do something like this to Julia Palmer. If he can’t find her, he’ll turn on you. Let me summon the constable; he’ll need your statement anyway.”
“There isn’t time. I’ll be all right. I must get to that telephone. I promise I’ll speak to the constable as soon as possible.”
“Then promise me as well that once your telephone calls are made, you’ll return to the surgery.”
Dr. Glover followed me to the door, quietly asking out of earshot of the others what was so urgent, but I wasn’t prepared to tell him that I thought Mitchell’s next victim was very likely going to be my father.
There was still no sign of Trelawney or of Private Morton on my return to the house. The door was shut, as I’d left it, but I took the horse around to the back where he couldn’t be seen by anyone approaching down the drive, and with the little pistol in my hand, I went from the kitchen through to the wide hall, searching for a telephone. I found it in the room that Captain Baldwin must have used for his study. I locked myself inside and sat down at the burled desk.
I called London first, but I was told by a voice I didn’t recognize that Colonel Crawford was not available.
The next call I put in went to Somerset and my mother. Iris, pleased to hear from me, was full of questions and finally told me that my mother was not to home.
“Where is she?” I asked, praying that she’d gone to market or was calling on friends.
“She went to the clinic, Miss Elizabeth. The one where you were. She should be coming home before very long.”
Debating what to say, I settled on, “Tell my mother, and Sergeant-Major Brandon if he’s with her, to close the house at once and go back to the clinic. They must wait there until I come. And you must go with them, taking Cook as well. Do you hear?”
“Yes, Miss, but Cook is in the midst of preparing dinner-”
“I’m sure she must be. But you must convince her to go with you. As quickly as you can, you must leave the house. There’s something wrong, Iris, and I don’t know what’s about to happen. It’s best if there isn’t anyone in the house at all.”
It took all of my persuasive powers to convince her to heed my warning. Iris, accustomed to the safety of the Crawford household, found it hard to believe that any threat could touch her there.
And my final call was put through to Longleigh House. Matron answered the telephone, and I asked if my mother was there, or, failing her, Simon Brandon.
She hesitated for a moment. “Sister, I shall be happy to take a message for them.”
I sighed. Had Simon gone missing again? Was that why my mother had been summoned to the clinic, in lieu of my father?
I said, “If I could speak to Captain Barclay-”
She was happy to tell me that he was available, if I could wait.
In short order, I heard his familiar voice on the line.
“I haven’t much time,” I began, “and so you must listen closely and not ask questions. I’m in Dorset, I’m calling from the home of the late Captain Baldwin. My parents or Simon will know the name. There’s been trouble here, and it’s my old adversary from France. He’s in England and bent on revenge. I don’t quite understand-but he’s shot the woman he wanted to marry, he’s posing as a Major, and it may be that he’s coming after my father. There’s quite a bit more, but it isn’t important right now. My father is in danger, and everyone else in the household could be as well. Where is Simon Brandon? Do you know?”
“There was a telephone message from London. A Captain Grayson in Portsmouth was trying to reach the Colonel. Your mother called here and is on her way to pick up Brandon. They’re going on to Portsmouth.”
Captain Grayson had probably told someone that I was attacked on board Merlin, and that someone had either tried to come aboard the ship or had gone ashore from it without proper authorization. All of it true, but it would sound to Simon as if the German spy he’d been hunting was in Portsmouth. And he’d be leaving the clinic to deal with it, with my mother to drive.
“Tell them to stay at the clinic until I come there. Portsmouth can wait, it’s mostly a distraction and there’s nothing for Simon there. I don’t have a motorcar, Captain, but as soon as I can manage to find transportation I’m going to look for my father. He could be in grave danger,” I said again. “Please, you must tell Simon that, and to wait for me. I think the man we’re after is on his way to Somerset.”