Marsh paused with his hand on the door handle. He turned. “Question, sir?”
Stephenson paused in mid-dial. “What?”
“What will we do when Soviet France is parked on our doorstep?”
“One problem at a time. We're long overdue for some good fortune.
“And if fortune decides to kick us in the bollocks?”
“Then we'd better bloody well start things off on the right foot when we meet our new allies.”
thirteen
Will decided, while packing up the Kensington flat, that his brother W Aubrey might have been on to something with his ceaseless harping about the necessity of hired help. It rankled, the thought of taking on a valet. Will had always rejected the notion.
But now half-empty boxes sprouted from every corner of the flat like corn poppies blooming on the grave of Will's old life. A knowledgeable hand to help prune the disarray wouldn't have been unwelcome. Perhaps what he truly needed was an undertaker.
He opted to leave the bone china. The notion of packing and shipping it back to Bestwood presented a headache he didn't care to indulge. Instead, he'd leave it for whomever succeeded him. A gesture of goodwill. And who knew? The next residents might be related to one of the many people he'd killed to satisfy the Eidolons' prices.
It occurred to him that his closet contained a ridiculous number of suits. He took a few shirts, some trousers, a pair of ties, and abandoned the rest. He left the paisley carpetbag sitting on the floor of the closet. Let the next residents make what they would of its bloodstained contents. He didn't give a damn.
The bell rang while he was emptying the bookshelves of Rudyard Kipling and Dashiell Hammett. Will peeked through the curtains. Marsh stood outside, his boxer's face hung low.
“One moment,” Will called. He rolled down his sleeves to hide the bruises and puncture wounds on his forearms. He buttoned the shirt and his cuffs, checking himself in the mirror above the umbrella stand. There was no hiding the bags beneath his eyes, but they could be attributed to a sleepless night. Or ten. The hollows beneath his cheekbones and the pale, papery skin were another matter.
He opened the door. “Pip.”
Marsh removed his fedora, ran a hand through his hair. “Hi, Will. Can I come in for a moment?”
Will stepped back, beckoning him into the foyer. Marsh stopped short when he saw the boxes. His nostrils twitched, and his hand started to move toward his face before he caught himself.
“Packing?” he asked, breathing through his mouth.
“I'm going away for a while,” said Will, leading him toward the den, where he hoped the smell wasn't so offensive. “I've decided it's time for a change.” He tucked the eviction notice under a half-finished Sunday
“In that case,” said Marsh, “you know why I'm here.”
“I'm to be cut loose, am I?”
“Yes.”
“And then what happens?” Will asked.
“Nothing. You've served the country well. Go back to your life, Will.” Marsh paused. “But please don't tell anyone about Milkweed.”
Will asked, “If I do?” Marsh looked uncomfortable. Will waved his discomfort aside. “No, no. I haven't forgotten poor little Lieutenant Cattermole, you know.”
“I know you won't reveal anything,” said Marsh. “It had to be said. For the record.”
“Of course it did. Even so, don't let Stephenson make you his hatchet man, Pip. It doesn't become you.” Will perched on the edge of a chaise longue upholstered in long satin stripes of royal blue and sunflower yellow. He stretched his legs before him, exhaling heavily as he did so, and waved Marsh toward the matching chair.
Marsh sat. The chair creaked as he shifted back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position. He reached down into the gap between the cushion and the armrest and pulled out a saucer crusted with something black. It clinked against the glasses clustered on the coffee table when he set it there. His gaze drifted from the glasses to the empty decanter on the sideboard.
“I'd offer you something to drink,” said Will, “but I'm fresh out.”
Marsh sighed. “What happened to you, Will?”
“The war happened, Pip. I'm weary of it.”
“So are we all. But I meant ...” Marsh stopped. He sighed again, and encompassed the flat with a sweep of his arm. “Will. This place is squalid. And pardon me for saying it, but you look like three-day-old shit.”
“As would you, had you done the things I have.”
To his credit, Marsh ignored the barb. He changed the subject. Looking around the room, he said, “Where are you headed? A change of scenery would do you good. You've earned a rest.”
“Here and there. Home, eventually. Bestwood.”
“I'd offer you a place here in the city,” said Marsh.
“I wouldn't hear of it, Pip.”
“It's just, right now ... Liv and I. Things are improving.”
Somewhere deep inside Will, a slender asp, green like emeralds, twined through his gut.
He forced a smile. “That's good. I'm glad,” he lied.
Marsh fell quiet, looking at the wine-stained carpet. Finally, he said, “You were right, Will. I should have listened.”
Will rocked back in his seat. “Now this is rather surprising. What's happened to
The other man shook his head. There was an air about Marsh, something new that Will hadn't seen. It wasn't exactly tranquillity, but rather an absence of anger.
No, not an absence. It was there, hidden deep in the caramel-colored eyes, if one knew where to look. But it wasn't bubbling away just a hairsbreadth beneath the surface, as it had for so many months. And in that Will recognized Liv's influence at work.
Aubrey might have thought Will needed a batman. But what man could want for anything with Liv at his side?
“We should have dinner, the three of us,” Marsh said. “Like we used to.”
At this, Will brightened. “I'd like that.” Any chance to pretend the past year hadn't happened... .
“Though I don't know when. I might be away, traveling, for a while.”
“'Traveling,' he says. Would this be related to the old man's grand plan?” Milkweed's bid to end the war.
“Yes.”
“Have you stopped to consider what we'll do if it works? It's trading one basket of concerns for another.”
“I have,” said Marsh, nodding. “And I'd be lying if I said it didn't worry me. But I don't see that we have any choice. We'll deal with it when the time comes.”
“Do you know you
“We'll find a way. We have no choice.”
Will jumped to his feet. “That's
