An Unmarked Grave

street, when I looked back, there was no one behind me except for two elderly women in black, struggling to carry a tub of washed clothes between them.

Either I was no longer a danger to him or he was too close to whatever objective drove him to take the risk of killing me now. But why sail for England if the Prince of Wales was scheduled to come to France?

At the Base Hospital, I looked for Trelawney, but I was told he’d taken the motorcar down to the quay. The Chief Engineering Officer had sent word that it could be stowed aboard now.

I hurried after him, but he was nowhere to be seen. One of Merlin’s officers was coming through the gate, and I went to speak to him, asking if he’d seen my driver and my motorcar.

“The Chief is haggling with him now,” he told me, grinning. “He wants the tires for his own motor, at home in Chichester.”

I had to laugh. Good luck to him, getting the best of a Cornishman.

Thanking the officer, I moved off a little to wait for Trelawney to disembark, but he and the Chief Engineer must have moved past haggling and were swapping stories now.

Looking at the collection of people hanging about the port, I saw no sign of the Major from the cafe. It was possible he wasn’t on Merlin, but if he was here in Rouen, he would have to land in Portsmouth sometime. I had only to get there first and wait.

I was tired of standing, waiting, but I dared not leave until I’d found Trelawney. Finally, after I’d nearly given up twice, he came off the ship and saw me as he passed through the gates.

“She’s as snug as can be,” he told me, pleased with himself. “I saw her tied down myself. There was just room for her aft.”

“I’m glad. Trelawney, I found the man we’ve been looking for. He was in a cafe halfway between the cathedral and the Base Hospital. I doubt he’s there now. He saw me as clearly as I saw him, but he didn’t follow me. And that reminds me, Hugh Morton is in the cathedral. I’m going to try to get him aboard.”

“A deserter?” he demanded, aghast. “Sister-you can’t mean it!”

I said, “I won’t be the one to hand him over to be shot.”

“I have no such qualms,” he told me.

“But you will do as I tell you. It’s more important to find this Major than it is to see Morton in irons.”

“Bloody coward,” he muttered, then realizing that I’d heard, he begged pardon.

“Nevertheless,” I said. “This you will do for me. My reasons are sound.”

He said nothing for a moment, then changed the subject. “What do we do, if he’s on this ship? This man you’re after?”

“The Captain is a friend. I’ll ask that he be held until my father can come to meet the ship.”

“He’ll do that?”

“Yes,” I said with far more assurance than I felt.

Trelawney nodded. “And if he’s not on board?”

“I think he’ll come to Portsmouth within a day or two. He has the orders he needed. It’s only a matter of time. What’s more, we’ll have a chance to prepare. He won’t get away in England. He mustn’t.”

“I was told he might be looking to kill the Prince of Wales.”

“I don’t know,” I said, uncertainty loud in my voice. “There’s something he intends to do. Or else he would stay in France.”

“Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Trelawney agreed. “He doesn’t know me. Why don’t you go aboard alone, and I’ll watch until the last minute?”

“Yes, all right. But be very careful. He’s killed four people that I know of. He won’t be taken by surprise. If he even suspects you’ve recognized him, he has a choice. Kill again or wait for another ship. And waiting would be far more dangerous.”

He said, “I’ll leave you then. What about Morton?”

“If he reaches the ship, I’ll put him with the wounded on board. Ah-here comes the first of the ambulances.”

And indeed it was making its slow approach to the port.

Trelawney disappeared, there one minute and invisible the next. I scanned the dozen or so onlookers, and I saw no one I recognized.

I had to collect my valise, and I hurried back to the Base Hospital for it. I was just leaving with it, thanking the duty nurse for the hospitality shown me, when I saw ahead of me a man in the uniform of a British officer, his back to me, but there was something familiar about his shoulders and the way he walked.

And then I realized where I’d seen him before.

He wasn’t the man with the bandaged shoulder who’d gone into the makeshift canteen just a few yards from the shed where the dead were taken. He had been the orderly carrying a mop and pail. The orderly Sister Burrows must have stopped and asked to bring fresh sheets to the ward. I’d been trained to observe-and so had she. I didn’t think I was mistaken.

I followed at a distance, making certain that I wasn’t where he might glimpse me in a shop window. Soldiers saluted him as they passed, and I tried to judge whether he was actually an officer-or a private soldier masquerading as one. I came to the conclusion he was a sergeant, for his back was ramrod straight, and his officer’s cap didn’t have that jaunty angle I saw so often. Rather, it sat squarely.

As if he felt my scrutiny, he turned and looked back the way he’d come, but a party of sappers had just cut across my path, and I was shielded by them. When they had passed, he was walking on again.

I tried to judge if he was British or German, but it was impossible to be sure. And someone sent to spy or act as an assassin would have been carefully chosen for his ability to fit in. Even his voice would be suitable, his English more than acceptable.

He’d reached the ship. I stopped to gaze at a window of cheeses, my back to him, and let him board. Apparently his papers passed inspection, and when I looked again, he was nowhere in sight.

Someone took my arm, and I nearly leapt out of my skin.

I turned quickly, prepared to scream if need be.

It was Hugh Morton.

“Would you have waited for me?” he asked. “Or left me in the organ loft?”

“I had other worries. But yes, I would have come. Trelawney is aboard with the motorcar, and there’s someone I didn’t want to encounter just ahead of me. He’ll be on the same vessel.”

“The officer you were following?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for him. He won’t know me.”

“That would be helpful,” I said. “But he’s not a fool. You must be very careful.”

He gave me that one-sided grin, his eyes all but crossed, his mouth drooping. “I told you. People don’t see the afflicted,” he said. “They’re too uncomfortable to look at.” It was a perceptive remark.

Just then more ambulances turned in toward the port, and I took Hugh Morton with me to add to the queue, explaining to the sister in charge, God forgive me, that he had been left off the list.

He was ordered on board with the others, and at the end of the long line, I myself handed over my own papers. I didn’t see the man I’d been following, but I thought perhaps he was taking care not to be in plain sight, just in case someone could identify him-or inform the port authorities that he wasn’t who he claimed to be. The only other possibility was that he wasn’t on Merlin at all, that he was scheduled to depart on the ship just tying up behind her, and he’d come early to keep out of sight.

In due course, Merlin was given leave to sail, the lines were hauled in, dripping wet, and coiled neatly on the fore and aft decks. I stayed by the rail, looking out over the city, watching the flashes of the guns in the distance. My father remembered France from well before the war, and I wondered if it would ever look again as it had then.

The ship eased into the current, then turned to steam slowly down toward the sea. The night was dark, the running lights masked, and as I looked up to the bridge, I could see Captain Grayson’s profile, tense and focused on what lay ahead.

He had given me his cabin for the voyage, as he wouldn’t be using it as long as Merlin went in harm’s way.

Indeed, as soon as we reached the sea, word was passed that we were being shadowed by a submarine, and