stonework, and Butler realised that he hadn't heard that regular
'And who might you be, then?' inquired Audley of the soldier beside Sergeant Purvis.
'Me?' The soldier looked around desperately.
'Me—sir,' snapped Audley.
'Sir?' The little man did a double take on Audley, saw no badges of rank, but surrendered to the voice of authority. 'Yes, sir—Driver Hewett, sir ... Colonel Clinton's driver that was, sir—I mean, Colonel Clinton that was, sir.'
'Ah yes—the walking map!' Audley relaxed slightly. 'And what happened to the colonel, then—he walked off the map, did he?'
Price, Anthony - [David Audley 08] - The '44 Vintage
'The map, sir?' Driver Hewett's face screwed up in misery. 'I dunno about that, sir. But a sniper got the colonel last evening, that's what. Walking with the major, 'e was'—he looked nervously at Sergeant Purvis—'so they say, that is—sir.'
'I'll bet,' murmured Winston. 'So you just showed the major where you'd stashed the loot, huh?'
The American accent threw Driver Hewett momentarily. 'Yes, sir. Those were my orders—from the colonel himself. 'If anything happens to me, 'e says . . .'' he licked his lips. 'But I didn't. . . stash the loot, like you say, sir —' his eyes widened suddenly as he caught sight of Hauptmann Grafenberg and Dr. de Courcy. 'Christ!'
'What the hell did you do, then?' The American lifted the machine pistol threateningly. 'You led that bastard here, for a start, huh?'
Years of gangster films had clearly left their mark on Driver Hewett. He pointed to the hole. 'I—I only finished the wall, sir. The officers unloaded the ambulance all by themselves. Wouldn't let me touch a thing—not even watch them at it, they wouldn't—same as when they'd loaded it. The brigadier in 'is red tabs, an' all.'
'What brigadier? What officers?' Audley stared at the hole.
'Dunno their names, sir—except Captain Spicer wot brought me up from the 'ospital to the place in Paris. Just officers—except they weren't real officers, of course—' Hewett gave Audley a meaningful look, half confiding and half doubting that Audley himself qualified for the courtesy.
'What d'you mean—not real officers?'
'Well. . . doctors, of course—like Captain Spicer. I mean, 'e was an officer, but 'e didn't know one end of a gun from the other. 'E was a doctor—RAMC—'Rob All My Comrades.' Not
'Oh my God!' whispered Audley.
'Doctors?' said Sergeant Winston. '
Audley looked at him. 'It was an ambulance, Sergeant. That's what doctors use—ambulances. Give me your cigarette lighter—and keep an eye on that man.' He pointed at Sergeant Purvis.
Butler watched him climb into the hole, to drop with a crunch into the darkness. The lighter flared, went out, then flared again.
Price, Anthony - [David Audley 08] - The '44 Vintage
'I only built the wall, sir,' said Driver Hewett plaintively. 'It was half built when we got here—the builders had all scarpered. 'Fact, everyone had scarpered—cleared orf. It was a wonder we got away, come to that . . . after the bleeding ambulance packed up. Got out of Bordeaux we did, the last boat.
Took us ten days to get there . . . But I only built the wall, that's all I did.'
'And a very good wall too,' Dr. de Courcy spoke soothingly from just beside Butler. 'A most professional wall.'
'Well, it ought to be,' said Hewett, becoming talkative with fright 'Bricklayer I was, before I joined up in '38. An' it was all 'ere ready— the sand and the cement, and the stone too, ready dressed. T'other wall was up and they'd part done this 'un—up beyond drainage channels.' He pointed to the small gratings at the foot of the wall. 'It weren't but a two or three hour job, really.'
'But still a good wall,' said De Courcy encouragingly. 'And the . . . the place in Paris—where was that?'
'Bloody 'ell, I dunno, mister. Captain Spicer, 'e knew where to go . . . turn left, turn right—an' when we get there, 'Stay in the cab, Hewett, ready to drive off quick' 'e says. Which wasn't surprising seeing as
'ow the jerries were already in Paris when we drove out—I know that for a fact, because the brigadier said so to Captain Spicer, an' everyone else 'ad already scarpered except 'im and me—we'd been ordered to stay be'ind. An' I didn't reckon we'd 'ave got out neither, except the captain 'e knew Paris like the back of 'is 'and, 'aving studied there before the war an' spoke the lingo.' He shook his head. 'But where it was
—there you've got me.'
'But you remembered what it was like,' De Courcy persisted.
Hewett shrugged. 'Well ... it wasn't a hospital—leastways there weren't no patients I seen . . . though there was a young chap in a white coat went by. . . . But it was a big place, with a brass plate on the front, an' double doors. You drive through into a courtyard—I 'ad to back up against another pair of doors—that's when the captain tells me to stay in the cab an' mind my own business.' He thought for a moment, his wrinkled monkey face screwed up with the effort. 'I remember as we drove out there was this little bit of a park right opposite, with a green statue looking at you.'
'A green statue?'
'Well, not green exactly—sort of greeny-blue, an' streaky like someone 'ad tipped a tin of paint over it.
Yes—an' I remember thinking it looked funny too because 'e was holding 'is 'and up and reading from a book— the statue—but 'e wasn't a parson because 'e 'ad a French army hat on, like their officers wear, an'
medals on 'is chest.'
De Courcy stiffened, and Butler heard him draw in his breath.
