The Mapping of Love and Death

Sutton, and gave only the briefest account of her visit to the home of Lady Ella Casterman. Finally, she told them about her meeting with Michael's young nurse, and Whitting's arrest. Then, opening her shoulder bag, she brought out the parcel that had been kept safe by James Compton.

'I think you will find everything here to lift the legal stalemate regarding Michael's property. There's a key and details of a bank, and as you will see from his notes, you will also be able to locate his original maps and the documents of title-we call them deeds-to the land he owned in the Santa Ynez Valley. His last will and testament are also mentioned with notes as to his final wishes, which are in favor of Anna's children. All papers are dated August 1914.'

And as she passed the package to Edward Clifton and watched as his liver-spotted hands fingered the wrapping, she felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes, for at the mention of that place so far away she could see Michael's simple drawings in her mind's eye, and on a rainy day in London, could almost feel a breeze from the Pacific Ocean ripple across the hills and kiss her skin.

Edward Clifton sat with the package held tight in his hands and bowed his head. His eldest son reached forward, placing an arm around his shoulder.

'Dad,' said Teddy. 'It's Michael, come home to us.'

Maisie cleared her throat. 'Michael's relationship with the young woman came to an end before he was killed. I managed to open pages in both the letters and his journal that were fused, and it was clear they had considered war to be an inauspicious time to continue a courtship. She kept his belongings, which he had given to her for safekeeping, all these years in the hope that one day she might know how to find his family. She is not a worldly woman.'

'We must write to thank her, Teddy,' said Edward Clifton, before turning back to Maisie. He shrugged his shoulders. 'Martha will be a bit disappointed. She had an idea in her head-I didn't say anything to you when we first met-but she had a notion that there might have been a child. It was a real bee in her bonnet, and it started in France. She said it had happened a lot, in the war, that war does things to people, makes them mad for each other when reason would suggest they exercise caution in their personal lives. You don't know her, she can be a terrier where family are concerned. I have to rein her in. As much as we agreed that our children have to find their way in the world and do as their hearts decree, she would have the whole tribe living in adjoining houses on Beacon Hill.' He held the book to his chest, as if to touch his heart. 'She kept saying that she just knew, so I'd better tell her that this time, she just didn't know. We have wonderful children and grandchildren, Miss Dobbs, and Teddy's boy is the image of Michael-isn't he, Teddy?'

'Right down to talking nonstop about the places he'll go when he leaves Harvard,' said Teddy Clifton.

Maisie smiled. 'What's his name?'

'Christopher-Chris to the family. Suits him-he's becoming a real Columbus!'

Maisie's next visit was to Elizabeth Peterson, who had remained at the home of her aunt and uncle, though Maisie assured her it was safe to return to her bed-sitting-room. The comfort of family and attendant companionship proved difficult to leave. The police had already taken a statement, and she was able to provide much-needed evidence with which to bring charges against Peter Whitting.

After each visit, Maisie fought the need to give in to the deep exhaustion that accompanied her sadness. There were only a few days until the funeral, and if she was to complete the final accounting before Maurice was laid to rest, there was much to accomplish. As each item was completed, she drew a line through the name and place listed on a sheet of paper, and went on to the next.

At the home and studio of Henry Gilbert, she assured him that his cine films would be returned, and committed to keeping in touch until they were once again in his possession. She almost ran into Ben Sutton as she left the house, and was relieved that he did not press her to accept an invitation to supper or the theater.

She visited the British Museum, where she did not ask to see books of poetry, but instead inquired if there were books that included photographs of California, in the United States. Several books were brought to her, and she read for an hour from Under the Sky in California by Charles Francis Saunders, imagining Michael Clifton poring over such a book before embarking upon his journey westward. She knew some words would remain with her for days.

Sauntering over these open mountains through miles and miles of chaparral-that sun-scorched tangle of sumac and manzanita, adestoma, islay and wild lilac, rarely above a man's head…

Maisie waved to Mrs. Hancock and left the museum, bound for Selfridges, where she completed the simple task of walking through the shoe department.

Martha Clifton was asleep when Maisie called at the hospital, but she left flowers for her client, along with good wishes for her recovery and a timely return to her home in Boston. A letter of thanks was dispatched to Lady Ella Casterman, in which Maisie enclosed the small sheet of paper bearing the verse of Elizabeth Barrett Browning she'd given to a young American man with whom she had fallen in love. Tucked inside was the lock of her hair he had cherished enough to keep.

When her visits were complete, Maisie compiled her written report for Michael Clifton's parents, which she placed in a box along with a final statement of her charges and Michael's belongings previously entrusted to her. Before packing the journal, she lifted the leather cover once again and began to read.

I'm finally on the high seas bound for jolly old England. Dad wrote to me in New York to say I was out of my mind, that I didn't know what I was doing. He said war was something that old men get us into and young men rush into, and that if I had any sense at all I'd come home. Then he wired me to say that he and Mother loved me very much, that they were proud of me. He told me I was under orders to remember everything that happened to me so I'll have some good stories to tell around the tree at Christmas. So, here I go! Michael Clifton's Grand Adventure Over There, Part One…

She closed the journal and set it in the box to be delivered to Mr. and Mrs. Edward Clifton at The Dorchester Hotel.

There, I think it's all done now, Billy.'

'Can we fold the map and put it away in the file then?'

'Yes. Seeing that table bare is always a bit of a dubious pleasure,' said Maisie. 'There's the joy of knowing the work's done, and the worry that another big case will never come in.'

'We're always all right, though, aren't we, Miss?'

'A sizable job seems to present itself in the nick of time, and while we wait, there are always these little bits and pieces to be getting on with.'

Billy walked across to the table by the window, where he unpinned the Clifton case map, folded it with care, and put it away. Maisie sighed and leaned back, wondering whether this was the right time to talk to Billy. She still could not put her finger on her reason for thinking that something was amiss, that there was a change about him, but she also knew that she was rarely wrong in her suspicions.

'How's Doreen, Billy? Did she get on all right at her checkup?'

'Fit as a fiddle. Dr. Masters is very pleased.' He did not turn to reply to her question.

'Good. Yes, that's good news.'

Still holding a folder in his hand, he came to Maisie's desk and stood before her.

'Why don't you sit down, Billy.' She held out her hand to the empty chair and waited for him to speak.

'I can't keep a secret from you, Miss, never could. It's written all over my face, I know it.'

'And I've known you for a while, so perhaps I see things that others mightn't.'

'It's Doreen.'

'Yes.'

'She's in the family way.'

'Oh, Billy! Billy-what lovely news. Congratulations!'

Billy pursed his lips, then broke into a smile. 'I was worried, to tell you the truth, Miss, but I'm dead chuffed- we're both as pleased as punch. It's a bit of light for us, though as I said to Doreen, we've still got to get ourselves out of here, get over there to Canada. We've got a new nipper to think about as well as our boys, and we want the best for them.' Billy's words seemed to tumble out as he spoke of his plans, thoughts, and concerns. 'I mean, Doreen went off the idea of Canada, to tell you the truth. She didn't want to leave our little Lizzie cold in the ground without us around the corner, but now, with the new baby on the way, she wants the best, doesn't want to lose another one.'

'Billy, how far along is she? When's the baby due?' Maisie tried not to convey her own concerns: Doreen's