A duty to the dead by Charles Todd

Author:Charles Todd [Charles Todd]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Policier
ISBN: 9780061933844
Published: 2009-09-01T07:00:00+00:00

I wanted nothing more than to turn back the clock, arrive on my doorstep and find the flat empty—or filled with my friends and their friends, all of them real, all of them normal.

I was allowed to go and do the marketing, a little later in the morning. I was reminded that Mrs. Hennessey would suffer if I talked to anyone, or sent a telegram to Kent. She was there at her door when I came back, smiling at me, asking how my arm was faring, and if I’d come to London to take up my next posting.

I answered her questions, smiling as if nothing had happened to change my world or hers. I told her that I’d been in Kent and had returned to London to spend a little time with friends, that I had missed them, shut away in Somerset.

She nodded and told me that I had only to ask, and she would bring me anything I needed.

I thanked her and went on up the stairs, feeling Peregrine in the darkness at the top, watching and listening. He had the door open for me, and then shut it behind me. “That was well done.”

Ten minutes later, he was asking me how to go about finding a particular house in London.

“You don’t remember where you were staying?” I asked, surprised.

“You don’t understand. I was never told these things. I was taken to the train, I was taken to the house, and I never left it until we returned to Kent. I can only tell you what I saw from my window—a fenced square with trees, a walk, several benches, and a gate on four sides. The house across from ours was a pale cream, with six chimneys, a false balcony on the upper floors—no more than an ornate iron railing in front of the windows—and a black door with a brass knocker and short iron railings up the two steps to the door.”

“There are any number of houses in London that match that description.”

I debated how far I should go in helping him, whether dragging my heels would wear him down or if helping him would buy some protection in the end.

“Then we’ll walk the streets until we find the right one.”

“You aren’t in any condition to walk the streets. This is winter, and London is damp, cold. You could find yourself ill again. Pneumonia can come back.”

“It behooves you to help me. The sooner the better.”

I made up my mind. “I’ll take you to a place I know that fits your description. It may be the wrong place. But it’s somewhere to start.”

“Fair enough.”

I had bought a razor for him while I was out, and he used it, ridding himself of the dark beard and, with it, some of the sinister expression that I hadn’t seen while nursing him. I’d kept him reasonably well shaven then because of the need to wash his face after his fearsome coughing fits.

We left the flat together. I expected—dreaded—Mrs. Hennessey popping out her door and asking who my young man was.

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