The Information Officer

opened the front door to him. Teresa had ignored his words of warning relayed by Lilian. A steep stone staircase led from the palace garden up to the bastion wall, and it was here that he found her, out in the open with her daughters, watching events unfold on the plain below. Felicia and Ena scampered up to him. They had seen a motorcyclist tearing up the hill from Ta’ Qali. Had that really been him? What had he been thinking? Was he mad? He could have been killed.

Teresa shepherded the girls back down the steps and across the garden, ordering them to remain indoors from now on. Max was led through to the drawing room. He remained standing, not wishing to soil the antique sofa.

“She’s still not at work.”

“I know. I also know that she went to visit someone in Naxxar a few nights ago. She wouldn’t tell me who.” Teresa raised her hand, silencing him before he could reply. “If you lie to me now, Max, I shall never forgive you. Never.”

“Look, I don’t know who she visited in Naxxar, but there’s a good chance it was a man named Busuttil.”

“Busuttil?”

“He’s a detective with the CID.” He hesitated. “He’s also missing.”

Teresa stared at him. “What have you done?” she said quietly.

“I haven’t done anything. I’m just as confused as you are.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” She wagged her hand irritably at the sofa. “For goodness’ sake, sit down. And give me one of your cigarettes. I think I’m going to need it.”

He spared her the unnecessary details, and she sat in silence, listening attentively to his account.

“It’s still possible the authorities are holding them both.”

“You think? I don’t. I think you were very wrong to involve her.”

“It wasn’t like that. She was keen to help.”

“You stupid boy!” she spat. “Of course she was. Don’t you understand? She would do anything you asked her. She loves you.”

Three simple words spiked with bitter truth. He knew what he had become, but now he saw himself as if through Teresa’s eyes, perched pathetically on the sofa, already groping for excuses: if only Lilian had told me earlier, it would all be different. But there were no excuses, and there was no one else to blame. He had been blind, not just to her feelings, but to his own too. He had made a terrible mistake, and it was one that would plague him for the remainder of his life if he couldn’t rectify it.

“You find her,” said Teresa. “You find her and you bring her back to me.”

His decision to make straight for the Xara Palace at the other end of Mdina was one of expediency. The public phone lines might be out of action because of the raids, but the central phone in the mess would still be functioning.

The palace appeared to be deserted at first, swept clean of all human life. That was because the terrace at the back of the building was jammed thick with spectators—the sick, the injured, Maltese orderlies, and fresh-faced flight lieutenants. There was an exultant edge to the babble of voices passing comment on the dogfights unfolding high overhead.

Max pushed his way through the distracted throng toward the intelligence room at the end of the terrace. It was empty, and he pulled the door closed behind him. Picking up the phone, he spun the handle.

“General staff, please.”

The door swung open while he was waiting. Max didn’t recognize the young man.

“Excuse me, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“I have orders to keep that line clear.”

“And if you’d been at your post, it might still be.”

He was obviously one of the new boys, low on combat experience, tasked with manning the phones to keep him from smashing up one of the new Spits.

“Look, you can’t just come in here—”

“Don’t make me pull rank on you.”

“My orders came from the AOC himself, Major.” The schoolboy smirked. “That’s who you’ll be pulling rank on.”

Max wasn’t in the mood to drag out the conversation.

“Just bugger off. Better still, bugger off and find Ralph for me.”

Ralph’s name was what did it. Ralph was royalty.

For Max, though, Elliott was the one who mattered right then. It was time to call his hand, find out just what he knew, because it was certainly more than he’d been willing to reveal up until now.

Elliott, however, seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. There had still been no sign of him at the Ops Room, or anywhere else for that matter. It was possible that the man who’d answered the phone at the Y Service offices had been lying, but there was no way of knowing. Even if Max took himself off to Valetta, he’d never gain entry to the offices. Access was strictly limited to a select few.

He had just settled on his only course of action when the young flight lieutenant returned.

“Ralph isn’t here.”

“Well, he’s not down at Ta’ Qali, because I was just there.”