that around here,” he said. “I go by my mother’s name or there’d be a fuss, at least in certain circles. But I wanted to do something. Anything other than sit at Overton Hall and feel useless. And so, when Ramsey came back from North Africa and began working here, my father got a place for me. But Ramsey seems to think he’s got to mind me rather than viewing me as helpful. The military has been his life since he was young, Sandhurst and all that. He takes it very seriously. And now I’ve come in as a sort of burden to him.”
I supposed that explained that antagonism I’d noticed the major seemed to have for the young man. And perhaps it explained why Oscar always looked so miserable. He was stuck in a job that was, in many ways, probably beneath him, capable of more but not given a chance to do it.
“But you are helpful, Oscar…” I paused, wondering if I ought to call him something else now that I knew who he really was. “May I still call you Oscar?”
“Of course! I should hate for you to call me anything else.”
“But aren’t you a … viscount or something?”
He shook his head. “I’m not the heir, in any case. It’s my older brother. And we’ve two little brothers besides. Plenty of spares to go around.”
I laughed.
“But don’t tell him that I told you, not if you can help it.”
“I won’t,” I said. “It’ll be our little secret.”
I let Oscar go back to his work and settled against the cushions of the sofa, trying to plot out in my mind how long it would be. Uncle Mick would get them into the house. He and Kimble would go over the place until they found the documents and the letter. Felix would read the letter and rewrite it as needed. Then they could exchange the documents and be on their way.
How long would it take? It would depend on where the documents were and how long it took to find them. Longer, of course, if they were in a safe or well hidden. But perhaps Winthrop would be sloppy. We could only hope.
The early morning must have caught up with me because, without intending to, I dozed off, leaning against the sofa cushions.
I was awakened some time later by the sound of voices. It took me a moment to gain my bearings and to realize it was Kimble, Uncle Mick, and Felix talking amongst themselves.
They were back! Had it been a success? I was still too groggy to fully take note of what they were saying.
I rose sleepily from the sofa, moved past Oscar, and followed them down the hall.
The men had just reached the door to the major’s office and opened it. I approached just in time to hear Kimble’s words.
“We’ve a bit of a problem,” he said in that flat tone of his. I felt a surge of dread, knowing how given the man was to understatement.
I was right to have worried, unfortunately. “Winthrop’s gone, and he seems to have taken the papers with him,” he said.
Major Ramsey shot up from his chair, uttering a curse. “What do you mean he’s gone?”
“We did the job just as planned,” Kimble said. “But when we got inside the house, his office was in disarray, as though he’d been going through things in a hurry. The documents you’re looking for were nowhere to be found. I think he took them with him.”
I gave a little gasp, and Felix turned to see me standing behind the group. He reached over and clasped my hand in his.
“I thought your men were watching the house,” Major Ramsey was saying, his gaze fastened on Kimble.
“They were. One of my men said he saw Winthrop leaving the house as usual. It didn’t strike him as odd. But I sent a man to the park where he usually walks and then to his club to ask for him. He isn’t there.”
Major Ramsey swore again, viciously.
“That means he’s on his way to meet the German contact now, with the plans,” I said.
“Yes. He’ll be meeting the German agent to pass off the documents to him,” Major Ramsey said grimly.
We’re too late.
That’s what most people would have said when faced with this sort of news. After all, we didn’t have any way to know where he was going. Common sense said the South Coast, but where, in all those miles, would Matthew Winthrop have planned to meet a