you and Josette had gone off together.’ She moved her head to one side, avoiding looking at him directly. ‘I know how you feel about her. It’s obvious. It’s the way you look at her, the way your face lights up when she comes in the room. I know.’
Anthony looked at her silently.
‘It’s a nightmare,’ she added desperately. ‘First Uncle Patrick was arrested, then Josette disappeared and you couldn’t be found. I can’t understand what’s happening but it’s you, isn’t it? You’re responsible for everything.’
He met her eyes, schooling his face into blankness. She reacted with sudden fury. ‘For heaven’s sake, Colonel, don’t pretend!’ Her voice was savage. ‘You know, don’t you?’
Anthony couldn’t hold out any longer. Silently he inclined his head.
Tara gave a little choking gasp.
‘I know some of it,’ said Anthony quietly. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to Mrs Sherston. Haven’t you any idea? Could she have gone up to London, say?’
‘She wouldn’t go off by herself to London in the middle of the night. I rang Mr Elswick and he hasn’t seen her. He said he’d telephone if she turned up, but there’s been no word.’
‘What about the police?’
Tara shook her head. ‘I didn’t want to tell them.’ She paused, looking at him reluctantly. ‘Not in the circumstances. What I thought were the circumstances, anyway. Shall I ring them now?’
Anthony hesitated. If the police were called that meant interviews, an investigation, and delays. He suddenly remembered the letter Vyse had given him. ‘Wait a moment,’ he said. ‘This could tell us something.’
He pulled out the letter, Tara watching him. ‘That’s not Josette’s writing,’ she said.
As Anthony read the letter, his stomach turned over. He’d wanted Smith to make his move. He’d got his wish.
Dear Colonel Brooke,
By this time you will be aware that a certain lady of your acquaintance has disappeared. If you want to see her again, be on the main road outside Starhanger at six o’clock this evening. You will, of course, be unarmed and alone.
James Smith
He met Tara’s watchful, apprehensive gaze and decided to trust her. It was, perhaps, weakness on his part but, in a world of shadows, misunderstandings and half-truths, there was something deeply appealing about her honesty. She hadn’t beaten about the bush but asked him an awkward question straight out. He wanted Tara to understand why he acted as he had done. He wanted that very much. He held out the letter to her. ‘Read that.’
Tara frowned and took the letter. She read it through and looked up, puzzled. ‘What’s this about? Who’s James Smith?’
Anthony sat down on the sofa and lit a cigarette. ‘James Smith wants to kill me.’ Tara made an incredulous noise but he waved her quiet. ‘He’s an enemy agent. We’ve crossed swords before now and I’ve escaped by the skin of my teeth.’
‘Are you serious, Colonel?’
‘Perfectly serious. He’s killed at least two others.’
Tara put her hand to her mouth. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t believe any of it. Josette can’t have been kidnapped. This is England, for heaven’s sake. You’re up to something. I know you’re a spy. You came here to spy on my mother, didn’t you? She’s dead and Uncle Patrick’s in prison, and it’s all down to you. I knew you weren’t real. I don’t believe in James Smith. I don’t believe that’s a real letter. You wrote it.’ She stopped and her voice wavered. ‘Didn’t you?’
Anthony didn’t answer her directly. Instead he got up and went to the conservatory door leading into the garden and opened it.
With Tara following him, he walked out onto the terrace, into the garden and down to the copse of trees flanking the wall that separated Starhanger from the road. He stood beside the trees and whistled. Tara gave a yelp of surprise as Cooke emerged from the wood. ‘Meet Lieutenant Cooke.’
‘At your service, Miss,’ Cooke said with a smile.
Anthony could see Cooke’s appearance like a rabbit from a hat dealt the final blow to Tara’s scepticism. ‘It’s all right,’ he said reassuringly. ‘This is one of my men.’ He smiled fleetingly. ‘He was one of the burglars the other night.’ He gave Cooke the letter. ‘It’s from Smith. He’s got Mrs Sherston.’
Cooke read the letter quickly with a growing smile of satisfaction. ‘And I’d say we’d got him, Colonel. If he turns up at six, we’ll have him on ice. What’s your idea, sir? Parkinson’s back at the inn but Bedford and I are ready and waiting. If he shows up, we’ve