one of the first medical units in France, before our medical corps was properly established. And he's no ordinary doctor now-he's an eminent brain surgeon. I think if it was your parents in hospital with head wounds, and you had such a friend, you would have enlisted his services without so much as second thought.'
Caldwell nodded. 'Point taken, Miss Dobbs. Now, to my reason for calling-anything you want to tell me?'
Maisie leaned forward. 'Well, actually-'
At that moment the door opened, and Billy entered the room.
'Sorry I'm late, Miss, but-oh, Detective Inspector. I beg your pardon.' He took off his cap, rolled it, and placed it in his jacket pocket as he went to his desk.
'Good morning, Billy.' Maisie noted that her assistant seemed tired before she turned back to Caldwell.
'May I telephone this afternoon? I do not want to waste your time; however, I might well have something to discuss with you later-I want to be sure my information is sound.'
Caldwell said nothing at first, looking at her with some intensity, as if to gauge her intentions. He stood up, buttoning his coat. 'Right you are, Miss Dobbs. I'll trust you on this. Mind you, if you've been keeping anything from us, I will have you in court for obstruction and your feet won't touch the ground on the way there.'
'Detective Inspector, you seem more than a little agitated,' countered Maisie. 'I thought we had come to an understanding.'
Caldwell shrugged and sighed. 'I've got some higher-ups breathing down my neck on this, being as Mrs. Clifton is from a powerful family over there in the colonies, just as you said, and the son is making his presence felt. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but he said that he'd be hiring you himself if the police didn't get a move on and get to the bottom of what happened to his mother and father-he reckons there's more to it than just a bloke who decided to break into a hotel room at random. On the one hand, he's got a point, and on the other-let's face it, it's only the moneyed who stay in a gaff like that, so if you were looking to come away with some valuables, you could probably find them in any room you choose. Trouble is, he said it to the embassy fellow, who told it to the foreign secretary, who belongs to the same club as the commissioner, and before you know it, I'm being strangled by the old school tie.'
Maisie smiled. 'Ah. I see. Don't worry, Inspector-as I said, I think I may have something for you soon. Just give me time-and by the same token, this is a share-and-share-alike business.'
Caldwell ignored Maisie's final comment, placed his hat on his head, touched the brim, and motioned to his sergeant to follow him. When the door closed behind them, Billy looked up at Maisie.
'He's gone on the turn again, eh? I thought we were all getting along.'
'We were, but he's being leaned on, and I don't think he's as good at bearing the brunt of the higher-ups as Stratton was.' She sighed. 'There are times I miss Stratton.'
Billy nodded. 'Better than that miserable whatsit, eh?' He walked across to Maisie's desk. 'Don't mind me saying so, Miss, but I reckon you've sorted it all out, you know, in your mind. I know that look.'
'There's a missing link or two, but I'm almost there. Come over here.' She took the case map from the filing cabinet, unfurled the roll of paper, pinned it out on the table by the window, and pointed to two names she had linked in red. 'See?' she asked, and turned to Billy.
'That's a turnup for the books, ain't it? I mean, I don't know what will come of this.'
'Neither do I.' She turned to Billy. 'But I do want to ask
Billy shrugged. 'We're all right, Miss. Yes, nothing to worry about. Just the boys were a bit hard to settle last night-it was that wind howling over the rooftops, I think. Young Billy was scaring his brother with ghost stories, and that set him off. They are a pair at times.' He turned away towards his desk, but not before Maisie had seen the color rise in his cheeks.
When Billy had left for the morning-he was planning to visit three of the women on Maisie's list-she picked up the telephone and dialed the home of Ella Casterman, but replaced the receiver before the call was answered, and leaned back in her chair. Was it really necessary to see her again? Could she close the case without involving the widow and her family? She decided to wait. Maurice had cautioned her, in the days of her apprenticeship, that if the way ahead is not clear, time is often the best editor of one's intentions. She reached for the telephone again, this time to place a call to Lord Julian Compton, and again she began to dial, only to replace the receiver when she realized that James might well have talked to his parents about his affection for her, and his intention to see more of her. What would she say to Lord Julian? How would she negotiate the new footing in what had, in recent years, been a pleasant professional relationship? It was one thing for a peer of the realm to have regard for her as a working woman with her own business, but quite another for him to accept his son's wish to enter into courtship with someone who had once been a maid in his house.
'Blast!' Maisie pushed back her chair and paced back and forth, then sat down at her desk again and aired her frustration to the empty room. 'I've got a job to do, whether Lord Julian likes me or not!' She reached forward to grasp the telephone receiver, but was startled when it began to ring.
'This is-'
'The quite lovely Maisie Dobbs.'
'James!'
'You sound surprised to hear my voice.'
'Where are you?' She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. 'Did you drive up to town this morning?'
'No, not yet, but I'm leaving Chelstone soon,' replied James. 'I thought I would telephone to see if I could stake a claim on your company for supper this evening.'
'I'm a bit busy, and-'
'Bertorelli's? I happen to know you love Italian cooking.'
Maisie laughed. 'All right. I'll come.'
'And let's dine early.'
'About six o'clock, then?'
'Perfect. I'll collect you from your office.'
'All right.' Maisie chewed the inside of her lip.
'Maisie?'
'I-I was just wondering-do you think it's a good idea for me to telephone your father on a business matter?'
'Yes, of course it is. You've never worried about it before, have you?'
'No. Not at all. But-oh, never mind.'
'See you at six.'
'See you, James.'
Maisie felt foolish. Lord Julian spent only two or three days each week in his London office now that James was more established at the helm of the Compton Corporation, so he would still have been at Chelstone anyway. She would wait to place her call until James had left to return to London. In the meantime, she wanted to see the Cliftons again.
She arrived at St. George's Hospital at eleven o'clock and made her way up to the private ward where Edward Clifton was resting. There was no longer a policeman at the door, but when she walked in, Charles Hayden was sitting with Michael Clifton's father.
'Good morning, Maisie.' Hayden came to his feet and held out his hand to the vacated chair. 'We were just talking about you.'
'You were? I do hope it was all good.' She stood at Clifton's bedside. 'How are you feeling, Mr. Clifton?'
'Much better, my dear. Charles here says I can return to the hotel in a day or so, but they're moving Martha to the next room, so I'll stay here for now. It'll be easier to see her.'
'How is she?' Maisie looked to Hayden for an answer.
'She's still bandaged, but she's conscious, though very tired. I've asked for more X-rays, and I'll be looking at them later today. She remains slow to respond verbally and cannot construct sentences-she can only give one-or two-word answers to questions. It will be some weeks before she can leave the hospital, however; the doctor there suggested she should be sent to the Atkinson-Morley convalescent hospital, and then perhaps to the country for a short while, but of course, Edward wants to be as close to her as possible, so we'll have to sort something out. Unfortunately, I can't see them returning to Boston until mid-June at the earliest.'
