I picked up Mrs. Everett’s bulky pages; her platitudes and homey admonitions ought to calm me down. I had got the first four phrases deciphered when I realized what she was babbling on about.
“Good heavens,” I cried out, staring at the men. “Someone did get in the house. Mrs. Everett says my room was torn apart. Damn,” I added because she went on to say that all my college notes had been thrown around the room.
All your books [I read on] were scattered and it was the most awful mess. Really, Carla, I was terribly upset. Naturally Father insisted on calling the police and they came and questioned every one of us. I felt simply awful. I don’t know what the neighbors will think, much less your dean. They are so particular at the college where the girls stay. And it was only your room, that was searched. That’s what the police say. That your room was searched. I know you’ll be hearing from them because they have to know what might be missing. I explained to the detective that you were convalescing on Cape Cod with your guardian. I told him that you had left only your books because you were not to study, but rest. But I didn’t want you to think that we aren’t careful of your things. You know how I always lock the doors, particularly since we had that scare before. You know, dear Carla, I find I miss that dog when things like this can happen. He may have upset me a little when you first came here, but I can see now why he’s been such a comfort to you.
Upset was a euphemism for scared sick. Her fear of the dog had warred with her desire to mother the war orphan. I had sensed this and had waved the flag violently. Considering how most army personnel were treated before the war, I had no compunctions about exploiting the new status.
Mrs. Everett did not believe in paragraphs nor in much punctuation. Her style, while very like her, lacked the additional flavor of her broad Dorchester accent, but I had a vivid picture of her standing indignantly before me as I read the letter. Embarrassed over the notoriety, concerned over the possible repercussions on her carefully maintained reputation.
So don’t be alarmed, Carla, when the police call to ask you about your things. Kay Alexander was so sweet and came and helped me pick things up and put the room back together again. You’ll be glad to know that nothing was really damaged [I interpreted this to mean the furnishings and linens escaped harm] and everything is back in place just as you like it.
Now, I know Mrs. Laird will cook good nourishing meals for you. I always said you never ate enough to keep a bird alive, and you so [she had crossed out a word with many lines] so slim anyway.
I looked up from my letter, having deleted the last paragraph from my running commentary of her remarks. The major was scowling, Turtle growled deep in his throat, sounding like Merlin, and the lieutenant was watching. Just watching, but I was certain no detail of anyone’s reaction missed his scrutiny.
“Was there anything you wouldn’t like to find missing?” asked Regan Laird slowly.
“I told you,” I began, “I brought everything down here but books, as ordered,” and I glared at him, “and you have the .” The look on the major’s face stopped me. “That’s the trouble with majors,” I complained to the lieutenant, trying to make this sudden switch appear spontaneous. If the major was worried about DeLord’s possible complicity with Warren, I had already said too much. But the expression on DeLord’s face was one of polite interest, nothing more. “The trouble with majors,” I repeated, giving Laird a dirty look, “is that they don’t have enough responsibility to make them humble and too much authority to make them human.”
DeLord burst out laughing. This certainly wouldn’t improve his relations with Laird but when Turtle joined in, the major had to grin at my deprecating description.
“You have to get up early to put one over on Little Bit,” Turtle announced proudly. “But I don’t like this burglary.”
I shrugged. “There wasn’t anything for him to take but, if my Government 18 notes are all fouled up, I’ll .” I trailed off as I saw the major opening Warren’s letter.
He read it quickly, the muscles around his mouth tightening with distaste. He tossed it over to me.
“Innocuous enough,” he said in a flat voice.
I thought I caught a gleam of interest in DeLord’s eyes but he maintained his incurious pose.
I didn’t pick the letter up. For one thing it had floated to my side of the table, right side up, so I wasn’t forced to touch it to read it.
I made an impolite sound in my throat as I read the opening paragraph:
Dear Carla,
Marian and I wish to express again our deep sympathy for your orphaned state. I admired your father
“You hated his guts!” and respected his ability to command
“Which is why you often ignored his orders and snaffled everything with your own.”
I was deeply shocked and grieved at his death. “You probably got roaring drunk with delight.”
You may not have heard that I sustained a wound in Aachen.
“And hoped you were! With no pain-killers.” and have been relieved, temporarily you may be sure, of my command.
“Permanently unless Bradley wants the V Corps to go mass AWOL.”
Marian and I happen to be coming to Boston on the 28th
“I wonder which general’s wife she’s sucking up to now.”
“Carlysle!” The major snapped. and would very much like to see you for old times sake. I will call when we arrive and arrange a date. Affectionately yours,
LT. COL. DONALD H. WARREN
“Affectionately? He debases the word.”
DeLord’s green eyes were sparkling and the hint of a grin twitched at his lips.
“Well,” I said with great satisfaction, “isn’t it a pity I missed them? My timing is superb.” I flicked a finger at the letter and it drifted across the table to Turtle. “Burn it, Bailey.”
Turtle was about to comply when the major retrieved it. He replaced it in the envelope.
“You know Colonel Warren?” DeLord asked me with the most innocent expression I have ever seen on a lieutenant’s face. Even Turtle blinked respectfully.
“Carlysle,” the major cautioned me, his eyes angry.
“I’m all too well acquainted with Lieutenant Colonel Warren,” I replied, stressing the rank with acid scorn, ignoring my guardian deliberately. “The very idea that he was given my father’s command - even for a day - turns my stomach.”
“Carlysle!” the major said more forcefully.
DeLord’s expectant look was an added goad to my defiance.
“I was ignored by him until I reached adolescence and learned, like every other young girl on the post, to keep something solid between me and him. I’ve been condescendingly chaperoned and mothered,” I shuddered violently, “by his dear Marian who’d sell herself to a corporal if it would look good on her Bonnie’s 201 file.”
This time the major grabbed me by the arm and shook me. I swung around long enough to wrench my arm free.
“I’m not army anymore and I can say what I want to now about Lieutenant Colonel Donald Warren. And I can say it to whomever I please!”
Merlin began to growl in his throat.
“You see, the dog agrees. He’d love to sink his teeth into Warren and I wouldn’t call him off. Warren’s had it coming a long, long time.”
“That is quite enough from you, young lady,” the major said in a steely voice. He meant it and for one fleeting second I was positive he’d slap me across the mouth if I said one more word.
Considering he had a very poor opinion of Warren, I couldn’t see why he objected until I recalled that he, or Turtle, had mentioned that DeLord had been thick with Warren after Dad’s death. Well, green-eyed DeLord would bloody well know where I stood as far as Warren was concerned. Discretion be damned.