CHAPTER TWENTY — EIGHT
I spotted Kaz and Tree sitting on the bench outside the Three Crowns, the same one where we had sat the day we met up. It seemed like a decade ago. Until then, my thoughts of Tree had been all about Boston, motorcycles, and scuffles with the law. Not to mention being upset that we’d parted on harsh terms. It seemed childish now. The war was waiting for us, and I had drowned and missing girls on my mind, along with the image of Neville crumpled at the bottom of his cellar stairs. Angry Smith sat in a prison cell, charged with murder. We had grown up, Tree and I, and the troubles of the world had come along for the ride.
“Tree, how are you feeling?” I asked as I approached. A bandage covered the cut above his eye, which was swollen about half shut, an improvement on yesterday.
“About as good as I look,” Tree said, attempting a grin, which was hampered by his healing split lip. “Lieutenant Binghamton gave me the day off to rest up. Came in for a pint and Kaz kept me company.”
“Tree has been telling me stories of what it was like in the southern states, where he trained,” Kaz said.
“Where were you based down South?” I asked Tree.
“First it was Camp Claiborne, Louisiana. That place was bad for everyone, worse for Negroes. Then Fort Hood, Texas, which was a little better. Later Fort Benning, in Georgia, where a Negro soldier committed suicide. Funny thing was, his hands were tied behind his back. Didn’t know a man could hang himself that way.”
“I had heard of the lynchings, but I truly did not understand how bad things are for Negroes,” Kaz said.
“Can’t be good for white people either,” Tree said. “It’s a lot of work to carry around that much hate, and pass it on to the young ones. There’s going to be an accounting one day, in this life or the next. Has to be.”
“I’m going to focus on staying in this life for as long as possible,” I said, squeezing in next to Kaz and stretching my legs out. “I just came from Chilton Foliat, to finish looking the place over. The CO there is a piece of work.”
“Sobel, right?” Tree said. “I heard he’s real strict. Like crazy strict.”
“Yeah. Charlie was digging a hole six feet wide, deep, and long. For missing a button.”
“That’s crazy all right,” Tree said, nodding.
“Apparently he thinks it will help train the men to dig foxholes in combat. I can’t fault him on that logic. There’s times when you need to get under cover, quick. Real quick.”
“That time might come sooner rather than later,” Tree said. “Rumor is that after the maneuvers, we’re shipping out. Maybe Italy, maybe France. They say the invasion could be any day now.”
“They say everything, Tree. Don’t put too much score in scuttlebutt. In case it happens, though, and you ship out before we meet again, I’m sure you’ll do fine. That’s a good outfit you’re in.” The way the army worked, Tree could be gone by the morning, and it was important to tell him what I felt.
“Thanks, Billy. And you’ll keep working on getting Angry out of jail?”
“I will. I talked to that caretaker today, Angus Crowley. Said he never saw anyone pass by that track leading to the cemetery. But he wasn’t exactly the friendly type. I doubt he’d tell the truth unless it served his purposes.”
“He looked plain mean to me,” Tree said. “You find anything else?”
“Not there. But I stopped in to see Rosemary Adams. Her husband, Malcolm, was killed last night. Hit by a truck.”
“Damn,” Tree said. “Not that I can say I cared much for him, but Rosemary’s had her share of trouble.”
“It is unfortunate,” Kaz said. “But from what I have heard of Malcolm Adams, his wife may be well rid of him. They say he was never the kindest man in the village, and that his wounds only made him worse.”
“Plenty of men have been wounded; maimed and worse. They all don’t take it out on their wives,” I said. “Still, it’s hard to be glad a man has died on a dark road, after surviving a Japanese machine gun.” We didn’t speak for a while. Maybe we were giving Malcolm some respect for his service, no matter what his personal shortcomings. Or maybe we were all embarrassed by how little he’d be missed. I studied my boots for a while.
“They took Major Cosgrove away,” Kaz said finally.
“Who did?”
“Two rather large and very quiet men. In an ambulance, with a nurse to attend to him. They arrived as I did, spoke with the doctor, had him sign something, then put Cosgrove on a stretcher.”
“But you saw him? He was alive?”
“Yes, he was. The men knew who I was by sight, and told me I could say goodbye. Cosgrove was pale, and his voice was weak, but he did say to remind you of what he said about being careful.”
“Yeah, he did.” What I didn’t explain was that he meant Diana. “Did they say where they were taking him?”
“I asked, but they said that information was classified. When they loaded him into the ambulance, the nurse gave him an injection and the men hooked him up to an oxygen tank. While they were busy with that, I walked around to the front of the vehicle. One of the doors was open, and I got a quick look inside. A road map was folded open, and I noticed a familiar town. Saint Albans.”
“What’s there?” Tree asked.
“Saint Albans Rest Home,” I said. “We’ve been there before on a case. It’s a high-security hospital for people with too many secrets. High-ranking officers, commandos, spies, you name it. If you know too much and mumble in your sleep, Saint Albans is the place for you.”
“What the hell is the big secret?” Tree said. “It can’t be Angry or the missing girl, that stuff is all out in the open.”
“And Neville seems to be a non-entity,” Kaz said.
“So the question is, what was so important that Cosgrove was afraid of spilling the beans while under a sedative?”
“But who would even hear him? The doctor?”
“That’s a good question, Kaz. Cosgrove risked his health, if not his life, to not be sedated. What could he have said that would have been so dangerous?”
“Something not even a respected doctor could hear,” Tree offered. “Maybe some military secret.”
“There’s air bases, paratroopers, all sorts of military units around here that are going to be involved in the invasion,” I said. “Even the Six-Seventeenth Tank Destroyer Battalion. Maybe your unit is the big secret, Tree.”
“Hell, we tell everyone we see that the Nazis better watch out for us once we hit France,” Tree said. “We’re the worst-kept secret in England.”
“Perhaps it is something as simple as the date of the invasion, or the exact location,” Kaz said.
“That assumes he knows either of those,” I said. “They’re tightly held secrets, the biggest secrets of the war. Cosgrove might know bits and pieces of the plan, but I doubt he has the whole picture.” The wind freshened and I stuffed my hands in my pockets against the chill.
“What do you know, Billy?” Tree asked me.
“Barely the time of day. They keep us pretty much in the dark. Need to know, ya know?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one plenty of times,” Tree said, getting up from the bench and stretching his limbs. “I hope they put us up front in the invasion. I’ve been hearing that colored folk can’t fight too damned long. I need to set that straight for my father’s sake. The army’s forgotten about how he and the others fought in France last time around. I aim to make sure they don’t forget again after this war.”
“Be sure to keep your head down,” I said. “This isn’t a fistfight you’re headed for.”
“All right, Billy,” Tree said with an easy smile. “I know you’re looking out for me. We got maneuvers coming up in a couple of days. We’re Red Army, attacking Blue Army. You both oughta come out and watch. You can see us in action.”
“I’d be proud to,” I said, and Kaz agreed. Tree left with a bounce in his step, and I knew it would mean a lot to him if I had a front seat as he put his TD through its paces. Hell, it would mean a lot to me as well.
“Well, that at least gives us something to do,” Kaz said. “We can watch the maneuvers and wonder where the killer is.”
