paused. A year. In truth a year had passed without engagement, cause for some gossip within their social circle. “James is associated with certain men of influence and power, one of whom I have had cause to cross. I know the man orchestrated the death of another man—one I knew and had affection for—though it was not by his own hand, he has others to do his . . . dirty work. He is a powerful man who at the same time is serving our country in matters of international importance, and is therefore untouchable.”
Dame Constance bowed her head, then looked up at Maisie again.
“So, I suspect you feel compromised. I know of your work, and it would seem that you were powerless against a man who is beyond the law, so you have become disillusioned with the law.”
“Disillusioned with myself, I think. And though I grasp why James must follow this man, I find I admire him for wanting to be of service, yet sickened that it requires him to throw in his lot with such a person.”
“So, perhaps the leaving is to set this episode behind you, to distance yourself from the grief associated with death, and also with a feeling that you have failed because you could not win against those who ensure that this man you speak of will be able to evade justice. But remember this, Maisie—according to The Rule of Benedict, the fourth rung of humility requires us to hold fast to patience with a silent mind, especially when facing difficulties, contradictions—and even any injustice. It asks us to endure. Thus I would suggest that you might well see justice done, in time. Patience, Maisie. Patience. Now go about your work. Seek the knowledge you crave, and remember this: you have expressed your desire, so be prepared for opportunity. It may come with greater haste than your preparations allow.” She paused, and there was silence for what seemed like a quarter of an hour, though it might only have been a minute. “I am sure that, because you have voiced your desire to venture overseas, a direction will be revealed to you. Now, lest I be thought of as heathen, I should balance the esteemed Persian poet with our beloved Benedict.”
The Abbess met Maisie’s gaze; neither flinched.
“Listen and attend to the ear of your heart, Maisie. Before you leave, let us pray together.”
And though it was not her practice to pray, Maisie bowed her head and clasped her hands, wondering how indeed she might best attend to the ear of her heart.
Chapter Two
London, September 4th, 1933
Sandra Tapley, secretary to psychologist and investigator Maisie Dobbs, placed her hand over the cup of the black telephone receiver as Maisie entered the office.
“It’s that Detective Inspector Caldwell for you.” She rolled her eyes; Sandra bore a certain contempt for the policeman.
Maisie raised her eyebrows. “Well, there’s a turn-up—wonder what he wants.”
She took the receiver from her secretary’s hand, noticing the telltale signs of bitten nails.
“Detective Inspector, to what do I owe this pleasure, first thing in the morning?” As she greeted her caller, Maisie watched the young woman return to her typing.
“Good morning to you, too, Miss Dobbs.”
“I thought you liked to get down to business, so I dispensed with the formalities.”
“Very good. Now then, I wonder if I could pay a visit, seeing as you’re in.”
“Oh dear, spying on me again, Inspector? Now that we’re off to such a good start, I’ll get Mrs. Tapley to put the kettle on in anticipation of your arrival.”
“Fifteen minutes. Strong with—”
“Plenty of sugar. Yes, we know.”
Maisie returned the receiver to its cradle.
“I can’t stand that man,” said Sandra, stepping out from behind her desk. “He needles me something rotten.”
“He likes needling people, and I shouldn’t really needle him back, but he seems to be so much more accommodating when he’s had that sort of conversation—there are people who, for whatever reason, always seem to be on the defensive, and they’re better for being a bit confrontational. If they were taps, they would be running brown water first thing in the morning. At least he’s not as bombastic as he used to be—and he’s coming to me about a case, which is the first time he’s done that. It must be something out of the ordinary, to bring him over here. Or someone’s breathing down his neck.”
“I’ll keep out of his way then.”
“No, don’t. I’d like you to be here—and what time did Billy say he’d be back?”
“Around ten. He