Authors: Philippa Carr
I left Tregarland at four o’clock. I must be there in good time. I managed to get away without being noticed. I had only one thought in my mind: to find out what these people wanted, to give it to them and get back my son.
It was dark early that evening, for it had been a dull day, even for November. By half past the hour, I was on the Pen Moroc Road. It was deserted.
I drove along slowly, looking out for Hollow Cottage. There was hardly any habitation in sight. I saw the signpost. Half a mile on then.
Peering about me in the gloom, I could see a building of some sort. It was in a small hollow, just off the road. Hollow Cottage. I felt sure this was the place.
It looked eerie. My heart was pounding so much I could not escape from the sound of it. It was like a drum in my ears. I drew up and got out of the car. I looked around me. All was silent. Was I too early?
I walked towards the cottage. It was uninhabited—a shell of a place. There was no lock on the door, so I pushed it open. It creaked as I did so. I stepped in cautiously. It was a derelict ruin of what had been a small dwelling.
I was sure I should never have had the courage to go into that place alone if I had not been overwhelmed by the need to have Tristan safe. I was thinking as I did so: Perhaps I should have shown the note to Violetta. But if those people harmed Tristan, I should never forgive myself. I had to do it this way.
I stepped into what had been a room. It was dark and I could see little. There was no one there. I was too early. I looked at my watch and saw that it was ten minutes to five. I should have to wait. My eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom and I was able to make out a door at one side of the room. As I looked, it creaked and swung forward. My heart leaped in fear. A masked man was standing there.
It was unreal … like something I had read, seen in a film, or dreamed of.
A voice said: “It was wise of you to come, and alone, Mrs. Tregarland.” It was a cultured voice.
“Where is my son?” I cried.
“He shall be returned to you. It is a very small thing we want of you. All you have to do is bring it to us and your little boy will be returned to you. First, give me the note I sent to you.”
I took it from my pocket and put it into his outstretched, gloved hand.
“What is it you want from me?” I asked.
“You are a good friend of Captain Brent.”
I shivered. “What … ?” I began.
“You have access to his cottage. All you have to do is bring us a small metal box which you will find there. Today is Wednesday. On Friday at this time, you will bring the box here. Your little boy will be given to you in exchange for it.”
“I have no idea what little box … where is it? How can I be sure that you will give me my son?”
“There are some things you have to take on trust.”
“I could not trust anyone who would hurt little children.”
“Your child will not be hurt if you do this one thing.”
“Where … where is this box?”
“It is in Riverside Cottage. It will be in an inconspicuous place. But you have two days in which to find it.”
“Captain Brent will not allow me to take this thing.”
“He will not know that you have.”
“His batman …”
“Neither will be there. It should not be difficult. You have the key and they will both be absent for a week or so. Come, Mrs. Tregarland, surely the fate of your little boy is worth such a small effort?”
I did not know what to say. I had discovered that this was not an ordinary kidnapping for a ransom of money. I had been thrust into a bizarre web of spies and intrigue—the sort of thing which, until now, had been entirely divorced from real life. But we were living in strange times.
I was in this position because of my relationship with James Brent, who was obviously more than an army doctor. I saw now that his work was secret and dangerous.
I had to get away. I had to think clearly. I wanted to shout at this man: “I will not do this. Let me give you money.” I was being stupid. He did not want money. He wanted this box. And if I were to save Tristan, I had to find it.
I said as coolly as I could: “How shall I know this box when I see it?”
“I am giving you a diagram of it. It is about six inches by four. You will not fail to recognize it. Do not let anyone see it. Do your search by daylight when you do not have to show a light.”
That seemed significant. The burglars detected by Charley must have been working with this man.
I felt trapped, out of my depth, bewildered, one moment determined to go in search of the box, the next telling myself that I was caught up in something bigger even than the kidnapping of a child.
I had to get away from this place … and think.
“Give me the diagram,” I said.
A black-gloved hand was held out. I took the folded paper and put it into my pocket.
“It is clear,” said the man. “Your child’s life depends on this. This time on Friday. Again, I must warn you not to attempt to trick us. You do not want to be responsible for your child’s death, do you, Mrs. Tregarland?”
I turned away and stumbled out of the house. I don’t know how I managed to drive the car back to Tregarland’s, but I did; no one was aware that I had been out.
For the rest of that evening, I went about in a daze. No one commented. They thought my mood was entirely due to Tristan’s disappearance.
Gordon, Violetta, and I sat at supper, pretending to eat. Old Mr. Tregarland was in his own room. We had decided we would not tell him the news yet. Gordon thought it would be too great a shock for him.
We went to our rooms early, as there was nothing we could do. There was an extension of the telephone in Gordon’s room, so that, if a message came through, he could take it.
There would be no message, I knew; but I could not tell them that.
I undressed and sat in a chair in my dressing-gown, staring out of the window, seeing nothing but the secluded cottage with the creaking door and the eerie gloom—going over every sinister second I had spent there.
I had to find the box. Tomorrow I would go down and begin the search. Clearly it was something of great importance, possibly to the enemy of our country and, if I found it, if I gave it to them, I should be working for these spies. How could I do that? Yet, if I did not, they would kill Tristan.
I should never have gone to that cottage. I should never have become involved with Captain Brent.
I thought of the pleasure of the last month when I had been really happy. I was in love with him in a light-hearted wartime way, as he was with me. One takes one’s pleasures with open hands in wartime without question. We were two free people; neither of us had commitments with other people. Why should we not bring a little joy into those dreary, war-stricken months?
But he was clearly engaged in dangerous work. Naturally, he did not talk of it to me. And I, because of our relationship, had become involved in this without knowing what. Consequently, my child was in danger. There was something about the man in the cottage that was deadly serious. I knew he was in earnest. If I did not produce the box on Friday, they would kill Tristan. And if I told anyone what had happened, they would doubtless kill me, too.
Not that I cared about myself. It would be an easy way out of my troubles, I thought.
That was foolish. I did not want to die. But I could never be happy again if they hurt my child. I had to get that box. I had to give it to them … and never let my child out of my sight again. But how could I do it? How could I steal this important thing from James? It was important, not only to him, but to the country.
I had never been in such a terrible dilemma in my life.
I started. The door was opening. I knew who it was before she came into the room. She was in her dressing-gown, as I was. She said, in that straightforward way which was typical of her:
“What has happened?”
Of course, she was my twin, and there was this special bond between us. She had often known when I was in difficulties without my telling her.
“Violetta,” I said. “It’s you.”
“Who else? Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” I cried hysterically. “Someone’s taken Tristan. I’m out of my mind with worry.”
“We are all the same. But I know something’s happened … today … this evening. What is it, Dorabella? You know you always tell me.”
I thought: She will stop me from doing this. I know it is wrong to do it … but I must save Tristan.
I was silent. She took a chair and, pulling it close to mine, sat down.
“Now tell me everything,” she said.
I stammered: “Perhaps there’ll be a message soon. They … they’ll want money. The old man will have to be told. He’s rich. He’ll pay anything to get Tristan back.”
“Dorabella, you know something, don’t you? Something you’re holding back.”
“I know my baby is taken …”
“We all know that. But there is something else. Come on. You know you could never keep anything from me.”
I began to cry silently and she put her arm round me.
“It’s always better when we share,” she said. She was right. It always had been. Some of those difficulties had seemed gigantic when they loomed before me, and then my sister had come in with her calm common sense and straightened them out.
“If I tell you…”
I heard her breathe deeply and I knew that I had gone too far to turn back now.
“Yes,” she prompted. “When you tell me …”
“You won’t do anything unless I agree. Promise that.”
“I promise.”
“I have become rather friendly with Captain Brent.”
“I know.”
“You know!”
“My dear Dorabella, it was obvious. Those prolonged jaunts into town. The way you looked at each other. I am not blind, you know, particularly where you are concerned.”
“I had a note from them.”
“From whom?”
“The kidnappers.”
“When? Where is it? Why didn’t you say?”
I told her how it had been brought to my room by one of the maids and that it had been lying on the hall table.
“How did it get there? Go on … what did it say?”
I told her.
“Where is it?”
“They took it from me when I went there.” I told her exactly what had happened, and I saw the shocked disbelief dawn on her face.
“This is terrible, Dorabella.”
“I must get Tristan safe.”
“I wouldn’t have thought of anything like this. What on earth have you got caught up in?”
“You see, don’t you, that I have to find that little box. I have to take it to them. I have to go alone and get Tristan.”
“It is obviously of tremendous importance for them to go to such lengths. You can’t do it.”
“I must, I must.”
She said slowly: “The burglary Charley saw … they must have been looking for this box.”
“I think that must have been so.”
“These are dangerous people. They are the enemy. It’s the only explanation I can think of. They can’t go back to the house to try again because the police have been alerted. I’ve always guessed that Captain Brent’s job was not merely to keep an eye on the soldiers. He must be involved in secret work of some kind, and this box doubtless has something to do with it. And as they can’t make another attempt at burglary, you, as the captain’s friend, can go into the captain’s house unquestioned. You can depend on it that your close relationship is no secret. Therefore you can bring out the box and in exchange get your child.”
“How could they know … ?”
“These people make it their business to know everything that might be of importance. You must have been watched.”
“Oh, Violetta!” I cried. “I’m glad I told you. What am I going to do?”
“There is only one thing you can do.”
“I must save Tristan.”
“You can’t trust these people.”
“I have to. I have to get my baby.”
“You cannot do it that way, Dorabella. You will betray our country. That box is obviously important. How do you know that, by stealing it, you might not help to kill thousands of our people?”
“But what of Tristan?”
“There are clever people who could be working on this.”
“It is straightforward. I give them the box and they hand over Tristan.”
“There is no guarantee that they will give him to you. You cannot do it, Dorabella. Gordon … Captain Brent… they will know the best way to handle this. Tristan will be safer if we work through them. Captain Brent must know. He will understand the importance of this box.”
My head was throbbing. I was telling myself now that I had been a fool to tell her. I should have known she would have taken it this way. There was only one thought which was going round and round in my mind: I must save Tristan. I would do anything … anything for that.
We were silent for a while. Violetta took my hand and held it firmly. She was fully aware of my thoughts.
Then she said: “We’ve always come through difficulties working together. After all, two heads are better than one.”
I nodded.
“I know what we must do,” she went on.
“What?”
“This is too important for us to handle alone. They might not give you Tristan, whatever you did.”
“I have to trust them. What else can I do?”
“Would you trust such people?”
“I have to do anything to get Tristan back. We have to make sure that we do get him.”
“Dorabella, this is more important than you realize.”
“More important than I realize! It is the most important thing on earth to me. Those people don’t want to hurt Tristan. They are just using him to get what they want. When they do … they’ll give him up.”
“That may be, but you can’t be sure. We know so little about this. This is what I suggest. We tell Gordon what has happened.”
“Gordon!”
“He will know what to do. He has connections with the army through the Home Guard. Captain Brent must know what is happening. He will be aware of the importance of this box. He will know why they are so eager to get it. It must be of great importance for them to go to such lengths and expose themselves to danger. Be reasonable, Dorabella. You are more likely to get Tristan back safely if this is dealt with by experts … sensibly.”