Frankie's Letter - By Dolores Gordon-Smith Page 0,103

joke. He suggested the title and it seemed so funny. He called it “Frankie’s Letter” because that was his middle name. But that’s all it was. A joke.’

Anthony stared at her. ‘For God’s sake, Mrs Sherston, it’s no joke. After all,’ he said acutely, ‘you knew enough to burn the drafts of “Frankie’s Letter” in Veronica O’Bryan’s grate, didn’t you?’

She swallowed. ‘So what if I did? If she’d been capable of writing it, she would have. It doesn’t matter, I tell you. It was only a joke.’

Anthony’s voice was very quiet. ‘That joke, as you called it, killed Terence Cavanaugh.’

Her head jerked up. ‘That wasn’t my fault!’ Anthony said nothing. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she added desperately. ‘I wouldn’t have harmed Terry.’

‘You told the Germans where he was.’

‘I didn’t know it was Terry.’ She looked at Anthony with an expression that caught his heart. ‘Terry told me he was a journalist. Veronica asked me to write about a spy. I didn’t know it was Terry. When Patrick told us Terry had died, Veronica laughed and said it was my fault, but it wasn’t.’ She swallowed. ‘I would never have harmed Terry.’

Anthony looked at her wonderingly. She was utterly convinced of what she said. ‘You loved him, didn’t you?’ he asked, wondering once again how he could have been so slow.

Her sudden intake of breath told him he was correct. ‘You told me it was Veronica who was in love with Cavanaugh but it was you, wasn’t it? Terry Cavanaugh was in love with you and your husband found out. That’s why Patrick Sherston disliked him. That’s why Cavanaugh was forbidden in the house.’

‘I didn’t do anything wrong!’ she said desperately. ‘I couldn’t help Terry falling in love with me.’

For his own sake Anthony had to know the answer to the next question. ‘Did you love him?’ he asked quietly.

Josette dropped her eyes. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was a whisper. She looked up, her eyes bright with defiance. ‘How can you blame me?’ she said savagely. ‘After all, you . . .’ She left the sentence unfinished but her eyes seemed to lance through him.

Anthony writhed inside. Yes, she was right. He had loved her. Her face had filled his dreams and, given any encouragement, God alone knew what he would have been capable of.

She saw his expression and gave a slow nod of recognition. ‘We can’t always choose, can we?’ she said softly. ‘And then . . .’ she shrugged. ‘Veronica found out. She told Patrick and he was furious. He threw Terry out of the house. I told Patrick that I didn’t love Terry. Perhaps that was wrong, but I wouldn’t leave Patrick, even though Terry begged me to. I didn’t want to hurt Patrick and I didn’t want to hurt Terry.’ Her face grew puzzled. ‘Even now I can’t see how what I wrote could have harmed Terry. I only asked for him to be taken care of. There’s nothing wrong in that, is there?’

Anthony swallowed. Yes, maybe the irony of the phrase had been lost on her. ‘He was taken care of, sure enough.’

She looked at him, bewildered. ‘So how can I be responsible? I don’t understand. “Frankie’s Letter” was just a joke. Patrick was the one who wanted it kept secret.’

Anthony sighed heavily. ‘Patrick Sherston wanted it kept secret because he thought it really was a joke. A newspaper joke. He kept Frankie’s identity secret because it was one of his best stunts. He even went to the lengths of telling Tara O’Bryan he’d written it to put her off the scent.’

‘I know,’ she said vigorously. ‘Patrick told me. Tara came into his study when he was typing it out. Tara was so pleased with herself that Patrick played along.’ Josette’s eyes narrowed. ‘She promised she’d keep it a secret. She lied. She told you and poor Patrick was arrested. It’s all Tara’s fault. She shouldn’t have told you.’

This was staggering. ‘Excuse me, Mrs Sherston, but compared to High Treason, breaking an unimportant promise isn’t serious.’

She wrinkled her nose and shuddered. ‘Don’t say things like High Treason. I don’t want to think of it like that.’

‘No matter how you want to think of it, your husband has confessed rather than incriminate you and he’ll be executed.’

She gave a little shriek. ‘He won’t! Mr Smith’s going to help. They can’t hang Patrick for doing something he didn’t do.’ She sunk her head in her hands for a few moments. ‘I suppose you think I’m horrible,’ she