a mile, and there was still no gateway, or, in spite of all the tire tracks, a vehicle in which she could catch a ride. There were only woods. And more woods.
Merope—correction, Eileen; she had to remember to call her Eileen—had said her drop site was in the woods, near the manor house. If she wasn’t there, perhaps Polly could still find it, though if she’d gone back it would no longer be working.
The lane curved to the left. It can’t be much farther, Polly thought, trudging along the ruts, but there was still no sign of a manor house through the woods, or any other house, for that matter, and the lane seemed to be narrowing. And ahead, the woods had been fenced off with barbed wire.
It is going to peter out in a field, she thought. I must have come the wrong way.
No, wait, there was the manor’s gateway ahead, with its stone pillars and wrought-iron gate. And a sentry box, complete with a bar to keep vehicles out. And a uniformed sentry.
“State your name and business,” he said.
“I’m Miss Sebastian. I was looking for someone, but I must have come the wrong way. I was trying to find the manor.”
“This is it. Or was. Now it’s the Royal Riflery Training School.”
And it was a good thing she hadn’t tried to find the drop on her own. She might have been shot. “When—how long has the school been here?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Lieutenant Heffernan that. I’ve only been here two weeks.”
“You don’t know if any of the staff stayed on after the manor was taken over, do you?”
“You’ll have to ask Lieutenant Heffernan.” He stepped back into the sentry box and picked up the telephone. “A Miss Sebastian to see Lieutenant Heffernan. Yes, sir,” he said. He hung up and came back out. “You’re to go up.” He raised the bar so she could pass through. “Follow the drive up to the house and ask for Operations.” He handed her a pasteboard visitor’s pass. “It’s just through there,” he said, pointing between a pair of new-looking barracks.
“Thank you,” Polly said and started up the gravel drive, even though there was no point. Merope’s assignment had obviously ended with the takeover of the manor. Unless the remaining evacuees had been transferred to another village and she’d gone with them. But Lieutenant Heffernan couldn’t tell her anything about the evacuees.
“I didn’t arrive till after the school was in operation,” he said.
“When did the Army take over the manor?”
“August, I believe.”
August. “Did any of the staff stay on here?”
“No. Some of them may have gone with the lady of the manor. I believe she went to stay with friends.”
In which case she’d only have taken her personal maid and chauffeur.
“I can give you her ladyship’s address,” he said, looking through a stack of papers. “It’s here somewhere…”
“No, that’s all right. Do you know if the evacuees who were here returned home or were billeted somewhere else?”
“I’m afraid I don’t. I believe Sergeant Tilson was here then. He might be able to help.”
But Sergeant Tilson hadn’t been there either. “I didn’t come till September fifteenth, and the evacuees had already gone back to their parents by then.”
“To their parents? In London?”
He nodded.
Then Merope definitely hadn’t gone with them. “What about the staff?”
“From what Captain Chase said, they went home to their families as well.”
“Captain Chase?”
“Yes. He was in charge of setting up the school. He’d be able to tell you—he was here when they all left—but I’m afraid you just missed him. He left for London early this morning and won’t be back till Tuesday.” He frowned. “The vicar in the village might be able to tell you where they went.”
If I can find him, Polly thought. But if she could make it back to Backbury before eleven, he’d be at the church, preparing for the service. She quickly took her leave of the sergeant—and the sentry, who solemnly raised the bar again to let her out—and hurried back along the road.
It was already past ten. I’ll never make it walking, she thought, and it was too far to run. And just outside the gate, it began to rain in earnest, turning the lane into a muddy mire. She had to stop twice to scrape the caked mud off her shoes with a stick.
They’ll already be in church, she thought when she finally splashed into the village. She spotted the vicar, half running, half walking along the side of the