Missing Person (32 page)

‘What’s he up to?’ asked Tommy, wanting to get back to Vi. His adrenalin was still high, and it made him feel like enjoying a bit of healthy lovey-dovey with Vi. She might say it was a funny time for that sort of thing, but then she’d say oh, all right, I don’t mind now I’m awake. ‘I hope those geezers ’aven’t jumped him.’

‘It still beats me why they kidnapped him,’ said Sammy.

‘Blackmail, that’s what I think,’ said Tommy.

‘Yes, I think our stepdad’s got money in the bank,’ said Boots.

‘Case for the police,’ said Sammy.

‘Only if he says so,’ remarked Boots.

‘Aunt Victoria won’t like that,’ said Tommy, ‘a case of blackmail in the fam’ly. She’ll have kittens.’

‘See what you mean,’ said Sammy. ‘Not a case for the police. Chinese Lady won’t like it, either.’

‘So leave it to her better half to decide,’ said Boots.

‘How you worked it out that he was ’ere, just on account of the woman wearin’ a brown hat with feathers in it, I’ll never know,’ said Tommy.

‘It’s what his education did for him,’ said Sammy with a grin.

‘Guesswork and hope, Sammy,’ said Boots. ‘Education didn’t make me psychic.’

‘Stop talkin’ like a professor,’ said Tommy, ‘it’s hurtin’ my ears.’

‘No good complainin’, Tommy,’ said Sammy, ‘be like me and live with it. Hello, something’s happening.’

Footsteps on the landing preceded the arrival of Mr Finch. He had a smile on his face as he entered the front bedroom, where a bedside candle showed its yellow flame.

‘We can go now,’ he said.

‘Pardon?’ said Tommy.

‘There’s no point in staying longer,’ said Mr Finch.

‘They’re not goin’ to be charged?’ said Sammy.

‘I think not, Sammy. Your mother would prefer to – ah—’

‘Keep it in the fam’ly?’ said Tommy.

‘Exactly,’ smiled Mr Finch.

‘You could invoice them for any bruises,’ said Sammy, ‘and if you added a bit for overheads, you could come out with a profit. Take cash, not a cheque.’

‘It’s a thought,’ said Mr Finch, glancing at Boots.

‘Let me get this straight,’ said Tommy. ‘We’re goin’ to push off now and leave those geezers ’ere?’

‘Yes, do you mind?’ said Mr Finch.

‘If it suits you, Dad, it suits me,’ said Tommy. ‘What’s your opinion, Boots?’

‘Let’s get moving,’ said Boots, ‘and before some night bobby decides that a parked car in the Place is a bit suspicious.’

Down they went. Sammy quietly looked in on Mrs Harper. She was still sound asleep, her slack mouth bubbling away. Sounds like a boiling egg, thought
Sammy
. Boots went by and entered the kitchen. The beam of his torch picked out the hooded birdcage. He lifted the cover, and Percy the parrot blinked.

‘Hello, sailor,’ he said.

‘How’s yourself?’ said Boots.

‘Heil Hitler,’ said Percy.

‘Saucy, are we?’ said Boots, and covered the bird up again. He was the last to leave the house. He closed the back door on the sleeping woman and the two Germans, one of whom was winding a bandage around the other’s broken fingers, using a pencil as a splint.

‘What the hell have you got there?’ asked Tommy of Boots.

‘A covered birdcage and a parrot,’ murmured Boots, handing the cage to Tommy in the back of the car before sliding into the driving seat.

‘You’ve nicked it,’ said Sammy.

‘As a present for Chinese Lady,’ said Boots, using the self-starter. The engine jerked into life. ‘It needs to be taught to speak more proper.’

‘A suitable task for your mother, Boots,’ said Mr Finch, who seemed little the worse for his ordeal.

‘What d’you mean, more proper?’ grinned Tommy, as Boots set the car in motion.

‘It needs to be taught to say “Rule Britannia”,’ said Boots.

Very little was said on the journey. Mr Finch confined himself to thanking his stepsons for their timely and efficient intervention, and to expressing a hope that no-one minded the fact that he’d settled things without fuss. Sammy said a bit of blackmail, was it? You could say that, yes, you could, said Mr Finch. Well, I like it that it doesn’t get the family in the papers, said Tommy. Yes, in the family you don’t ask
questions
unless you’re invited to, said Sammy.

That was as much as was said.

Tommy, dropped off at his home, thought about making himself a cup of tea, but decided against it and went up to rejoin Vi in bed. Vi woke up, wanted to know what had happened, and was told Boots had been right and that their stepdad was on his way home. Oh, that’s good, you can tell me more at breakfast, said Vi, and you can come back to bed now. I am back, said Tommy, move up, love. Vi made room, Tommy snuggled and said something. Vi said something in response. Tommy said something else. Vi said oh, all right, if you’re sure you’ve got the strength at ten past three in the morning.

Boots delivered Sammy back to Susie, who was delighted at the turn of events and to know Sammy was all in one piece. Sammy said the whole thing was a blackmail stunt, and Susie said she couldn’t think what anyone could blackmail her dad-in-law about. Boots said let it rest, Susie love. Tell him to come and see me when he’s passing, said Susie.

‘What for?’ asked Sammy, back in bed with her.

‘He’s me ’ero,’ said Susie, trying out her cockney.

‘Sufferin’ winkles,’ said Sammy, ‘I’ll do things to you in a minute, Mrs Susie Adams.’

‘Yes, please,’ said Mrs Susie Adams.

There was a celebratory air about some of the Adams between three and four in the morning. Well, there was on this particular morning.

Boots also delivered his stepfather back to his mother, and himself to Emily, with an account of events. Emily said all of it was still unbelievable.

‘There’s something else,’ said Boots.

‘Oh, me gawd, what else?’ asked Emily, who had finally gone back to bed at twenty minutes to three, and had sent Rosie back too.

‘It’s downstairs on the kitchen table,’ said Boots.

‘It’s not a bomb, is it?’

‘No, a parrot,’ said Boots.

‘A what?’

‘A parrot, a talking one,’ said Boots, ‘a present for Chinese Lady.’

‘Boots, you’re crazy.’

‘Well, Em old girl,’ said Boots, slipping into bed, ‘it’s that kind of world, or haven’t you noticed?’

‘I’ve noticed you’ve always got an answer for everything,’ said Emily.

‘Is that good or bad?’ asked Boots, turning out the bedside light.

‘I suppose it’s sort of sublime,’ said Emily, and giggled like a girl. ‘Anyway, bless you for bein’ a clever old thing. Rosie’s goin’ to be extra proud of you, and I expect Chinese Lady might even go round tellin’ everyone in the fam’ly that you’ve turned out a credit to her, after all. I’ll talk to Dad at breakfast – Boots? Boots?’

Boots was asleep. Well, thought Emily, there’s me and Rosie been up half the night on account of all this bother, and I expect Vi and Susie have too, and what does he do himself? Brings a talking parrot home, comes to bed and drops off just like that, as if no-one’s had anything to worry about.

I don’t know, some husbands.

Still, this one is me one and only.

BRIGHT MORNING ARRIVED
. Boots treated himself to a lie-in while his family had breakfast, and Rosie went up to talk to him before going off to school.

‘Daddy?’

‘I’m asleep,’ said Boots from the depths.

‘Yes, I can see you are,’ said Rosie, ‘and no-one minds. We all think you’re a deserving case for a lie-in. I just wanted you to know Mummy’s very pleased with you, Nana’s saying you’ve turned out a credit to the whole family, which she never thought you would, and Tim says he’ll play cricket with you any time you like.’

‘And have you got something to say yourself?’ asked Boots.

‘No, nothing,’ said Rosie, ‘you’ll only get a swollen head. Aunt Polly’s downstairs. She dropped in on her way to school to find out what happened last night and if everyone was still alive. Your better half is telling her. Oh, and Grandpa told Nana it was a case of mistaken identity, that those men thought he was someone he wasn’t, and that he decided not to have any hard feelings about it because he didn’t want the family to get notorious.’

‘Notorious?’

‘Yes, mentioned in the papers,’ said Rosie.

‘Mistaken identity would explain it,’ said Boots.

‘Mummy said you didn’t mention it, but yes, it would explain it nicely, wouldn’t it?’

Boots turned his head, opened his sound eye and regarded his daughter, a young lady managing to look demure.

‘Yes, wouldn’t it?’ he said.

‘I’m not simple, you know,’ said Rosie, ‘there’s something between you and Grandpa. But I don’t mind, I trust you both. Well, I can’t stand here gassing. And Polly’s giving me a lift to school, so I’m afraid I’ve got to dash.’

‘Right, off you go, poppet, regards to your Aunt Polly.’

‘It’s actually Miss Simms today. Oh, Nana likes the parrot, by the way. ’Bye.’

Later, Mr Finch departed for his office, where no recriminations awaited him for taking an extra day off. And Boots got up and managed to dodge being cornered by Chinese Lady’s inquisitive tongue before going to work himself.

‘Tilly?’ It was five minutes past eight when Dan knocked on her door.

‘Come in,’ said Tilly, a threat in her voice.

Dan entered, dressed to go to work. Tilly eyed him broodingly.

‘Mornin’, Tilly, how’s yer good-lookin’ self today?’ he asked.

‘Cut it out,’ she said, ‘I’m not in the mood for all that soft soap. I ’ad a bad night last night, and it’s doin’ harm to me health and beauty this mornin’. I kept dreamin’ about that fat Gladys Hobday—’

‘I’d not actu’lly call her fat, Tilly.’

‘Well, she was as fat as a balloon in me dreams,’ said Tilly, ‘and dancin’ about on ’er tightrope. I take it unkindly, Dan Rogers, that my association with you and yer gels has given me ’orrible dreams that keep wakin’ me up, and I want to know if that woman’s answered the letter you sent about marryin’ her.’

‘Not yet,’ said Dan, ‘but I’m livin’ in optimistic expectation.’

‘Well, your expectation ’ad better come true,’ said Tilly, ‘because why should I spend hours worryin’ about what’s goin’ to ’appen to Bubbles and Penny-Farvin’?’

‘Tilly, I don’t want you to worry at all,’ said Dan, ‘not now you’ve been a real treasure to them. If you could—’

‘Don’t say it.’

‘No, I’m not goin’ to ask you to put yerself out,’ said Dan. ‘I’ve told the girls that you’ll be up here after Cassie goes home at one, and they’ll be able to use their paint boxes knowin’ they ain’t alone in the house.’

‘Oh, yer crafty bugger,’ said Tilly, ‘that’s lumberin’ me with them again.’

‘No, I’ve got their promise to be really good,’ said Dan.

‘Marvellous, I don’t think,’ said Tilly, ‘there’ll be paint over everything in the kitchen.’

‘I’ll talk strict to them if that happens,’ said Dan. ‘Anyway, thanks a lot if you’ll listen out for them—’

‘You’ve got a hope,’ said Tilly, ‘I’m pluggin’ me ears with cotton wool.’

‘You’ve got nice-lookin’ ears, Tilly, did you know that?’

Whether Tilly knew it or not, she chucked the armchair cushion at him, and it sent Dan into retreat down the stairs and back to the kitchen.

‘But where’s me bleedin’ parrot?’ asked Mrs Harper for the third time. Rising late, having overslept, she’d been greeted with the news that the conspiracy had been called off. The men were brusque and more straight-faced than ever. She asked questions, of course, but the only answers she received referred her repeatedly to the fact that the operation was over, the traitor released. They did not tell her the tables had been turned, that Mr Finch had made it quite plain to them they would not get a public trial wherein the nature of his work for Germany could be made known to the British people, including his wife and family. The British Government would take care to ensure the trial was
in camera
. Mr Finch, calm and collected, as he invariably was, applied himself persuasively to the argument. Accept the alternative of going back to Germany within twenty-four hours, he said, for it’s a very agreeable alternative compared to inevitable imprisonment. No, they said, it would still be possible for his wife to be informed of his past or for German Intelligence to lay other hands on him. No, if I let you go, he said, I’ll expect you to act as German men of honour. They weren’t men of honour, of course, any more than he or anyone else was who dealt in espionage, where all means justified the end.

Let me make things clearer, he said, and pointed out that British Intelligence was extremely systematic and far-reaching. You have seen how efficiently and quietly they effected my release. From now on I shall be guarded and watched by the Secret Service of this country, and so will you be, and any other German agents. We now know you, and you will be on our records. If anything happens to me again, or if my past is ever revealed, be quite sure something quite
terrifying
will happen to you. Further, your superiors will be informed how inefficient you are.

A charge of inefficiency? That and all else made the Germans wince. If their top man hated anything as much as failure, it was inefficiency.

They accepted Mr Finch’s terms.

Mrs Harper expressed her disgust at cancellation of the plan in voluble German, a language she had inherited from her father. But as far as her parrot was concerned, she delivered her sense of outrage in plain East End cockney.

‘Where the bleedin’ ’ell is it?’

‘Taken.’

‘Who bleedin’ took it?’

‘The prisoner.’

‘You mean that when you let ’im bugger off, you didn’t stop ’im takin’ my parrot?’

‘Buy yourself another, woman, and stop your screeching.’

They gave her money. It wasn’t as much as they’d promised, but it was enough to mollify her.

She shook the dust of Walworth from her feet halfway through the morning. Neighbours saw her go, together with the men, one of whom they thought her husband, the other her brother-in-law. All three departed by taxi, with their bags and baggage. The neighbours didn’t sorrow. Well, she’d come from the East End, which was very low class, and her husband and brother-in-law hadn’t been a bit sociable.