“How would Warren know where you were?” the major countered.
“Ahh,” I cried in exasperation. “He wrote me at the Cambridge address, didn’t he? He was to be in Boston the twenty-eighth, he and his precious Marian. One quick phone call to Mrs. Everett to arrange a state visit from Lieutenant Colonel and Mrs. Donald Warren, sweetly simpering, sympathetic, solicitous sickening!” I waved my hands, erasing the scene. “And Mrs. Everett who is a sweet lady is not very bright. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. But she’s staying with her guardian on Cape Cod,’” and I mimicked the Dorchester accent. “Sure they know where I am. And you may be damned sure they didn’t tell their second-story man my dog was here, particularly if it’s the same thug who tried to burgle Mrs. Everett’s.”
“Which brings up another point,” the lieutenant interrupted. “I’d like your permission to go through your father’s footlocker, Miss Carla.”
“Of course. We’ve been theorizing entirely too much.”
“Get dressed first, Carlysle,” the major ordered as I led the way upstairs.
I got as far as the door to the little back room before Regan Laird caught up with me. He picked me up bodily and turned me around. He marched me back to my bedroom and thrust me inside. The room was frigid as I’d left the door open.
“It’s freezing in here,” I complained as he shut me in.
“Too bad. Teach you to shut doors in the future. But you don’t leave that room until you’re warmly dressed.”
“I want to be there when - “
“We won’t touch your father’s things till you’re present,” he snapped. “Now dress. On the double.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
With fingers which fumbled from cold and frustration I threw on clothes, stamped into boots, and threw open the door. The major was leaning against the jamb, a pleased expression on his face. I could have slapped him.
“Better put a few logs on the fire while you’re at it. Warm the room up for later.”
I glared at him, tapped my foot and, seeing my irritation only amused him further, I whirled and slammed some logs on the grate. Of course, then I had to sweep up the scattered coals and clinkers.
“Haste makes waste,” he chanted from the door. I raised the fire tongs menacingly and gasped as he instinctively crouched. He strode across the room, his eyes flashing, and jerked the tongs out of my hand.
“That’s just enough of that, young lady.” He gripped me at the elbows and gave me a hard shake. “I’ve put up with your bad temper, your moodiness, your insolence because I’ve been sorry for you. Honestly sorry. But enough is enough. You keep that temper under control or I’ll turn you over my knee. Do I make myself clear?”
I was scared of him. And ashamed of myself. I lowered my eyes and swallowed hard.
“I’m truly sorry, Major. I’ve behaved abominably and I do apologize.”
He gave me another little shake, accepting my penitence.
“All right then. Your father saw fit, God knows why, to make me your guardian. As you say, you’re nearly twenty-one so our association will be brief. I’d rather it was as pleasant as possible because it is my intention to discharge my duties to the best of my ability. In spite of you.”
I still couldn’t look at him. He was absolutely right. I had been a self-centered, childish, irresponsible brat. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush, holding out his right hand.
“Now, let’s call a truce.”
I put my hand gratefully in his and he covered it with his left, pressing it in a friendly way. Then he tipped my face up so I had to look him in the eye. He regarded me seriously for a moment and then smiled slowly.
“You’ve got pretty eyes, brat,” as if he had just noticed I had eyes at all.
He put one arm around my shoulders companionably and led me downstairs.
Turtle and DeLord had cleared the kitchen table and placed the army locker on it. We went through the footlocker, and the lieutenant and I checked through the three albums carefully.
“There’s nothing in here. I don’t see stamps that are particularly valuable,” I said.
The major who had watched for a while decided to make coffee. As he opened the canister he started to swear.
“That tears it. No coffee. Okay, ration stamps everybody.” Turtle flushed. “Left mine with my sister-in-law, Major. Didn’t expect to be here so long.”
“I’ve some,” the lieutenant said.
“Mine are upstairs but you don’t need stamps for coffee,” I exclaimed, turning back at the door.
“I need them for meat and sugar, Carlysle. And I’m not making a trip into Orleans for just coffee. I didn’t plan on so many guests.” His grin belied any inhospitality.
I dashed upstairs for my ration cards, throwing aside last night’s disordered clothing as I rummaged through my suitcase for the folder. My hand crumpled some paper. I remembered the two sheets in the German album. I retrieved the lists, jubilant. They must mean something and possibly DeLord would know. I did remember to snatch up the ration books and came triumphantly back downstairs.
“I’ve got something,” I babbled, pressing the ration books in the major’s hand for he was all dressed to leave. I waved the sheets in DeLord’s face, crowing in triumph.
“At ease, at ease,” laughed the lieutenant, unable to see why I was excited.
“If I don’t get started now, I’ll never go,” the major said.
“Explain to me later.”
“Go, go, go,” I crowed as the lieutenant took the sheets from me, frowning at first and then beginning to smile.
“This is it. These are the lists of the first trap your father set. The reason I was in Paris and doing the rounds of the stamp merchants was to see if some valuable stamps and old books known to have been appropriated by four high-ranking German officers had turned up yet,” DeLord said. “I ran into your father in a little store near the Plaza Athenee. You can imagine my surprise at seeing someone from the suspected regiment in a stamp shop.” DeLord rolled his eyes expressively. “It didn’t take me very long to realize your father was not the looter.”
“I should hope so.”
“Well, remember, he had both the knowledge and the opportunity. Now, these particular stamps and the rare illuminated books should have been ‘liberated’ when we erased the Falaise-Argentan retreat alley the Germans managed to keep open so long. A lot of kraut baggage transports were captured and the stuff should have turned up. And the unit which came on the transports first was the One Hundred and Fifteenth.”
“Yeah,” and Turtle looked off into the middle distance, remembering. “Yeah. That figgers, I remember.”
“It does figger, doesn’t it,” DeLord agreed gravely, “and the Third Battalion overtook that train, too.”
Turtle continued to nod as though more pieces of the puzzle were fitting together.
“Yeah, I’m remembering a lot now,” and his face twisted into an ugly expression of distaste. “Yeah. And Major Warren was so - set on inspections to keep looting down to a minimum in his regiment. He even snaffled me with a
” he stopped as he caught the lieutenant’s glance. “Christ, Lieutenant, spoils of war! But, when I think of the angle that lousy - bastard worked, so high and - righteous .” He pulled his head between his shoulders belligerently and cracked his knuckles sharply as if he wished they were Warren’s neckbones. “Yeah, he knew - well we wouldn’t question him! And - part of it is, we didn’t. We thought that - bastard turned everything over to regimental when they came around on pickup.” Turtle’s laugh was ugly. “Christ, but I’m glad I .” and he broke off, blinking, and looked around at me with a basilisk stare.
I don’t know what he intended to say but I know he felt he had said too much already. The lieutenant had not been paying attention for he had been deep in his own ruminations. He slapped the sheet he held.