Hardcastle's Traitors by Graham Ison Page B

Captain,’ said Hardcastle sharply. ‘Perhaps you’d be so good as to answer the question.’
    â€˜I was with a lady.’ Villiers brushed at his moustache and smiled.
    â€˜What’s the lady’s name, Captain Villiers?’ asked Marriott, opening his pocketbook and taking out a pencil.
    â€˜I’m sorry, but I’m not prepared to tell you. It’s a rather delicate situation, don’t you know.’
    â€˜In other words, you’re not willing to tell me where you were.’ Hardcastle placed his pipe in the ashtray and leaned forward linking his hands on his desk, and fixing Villiers with a steely gaze. ‘You appreciate that your refusal to name this lady makes me suspicious.’
    â€˜Then you’ll just have to be suspicious, won’t you, Inspector? I do have the lady’s reputation to consider.’ A faintly supercilious expression crossed Villiers’s face. ‘Now, if there’s nothing else, I do have an appointment.’
    â€˜Thank you for calling in, Captain Villiers.’ Hardcastle paused. ‘I understand that you’re returning to France on Friday.’
    â€˜Yes, that’s correct.’
    â€˜Keep your head down,’ said the DDI.
    â€˜You’ve no need to worry about that, Inspector. Being at the Front tends to develop one’s innate ability to sense danger.’ It was an enigmatic statement that was not lost on the DDI.
    â€˜I may have to see you again, Captain Villiers.’ Hardcastle did not think that to be the case, but merely said it to see Villiers’s reaction.
    â€˜You’ll have to come to Neuve Chapelle, then.’ And with that pithy rejoinder, Captain Villiers put on his cap, turned abruptly and left the office.
    â€˜Our young captain seemed more than a little anxious when I was asking him about his father’s car, Marriott.’
    â€˜I suppose he could’ve been involved, sir. Either that or he’s bedding a married woman.’
    â€˜Or he’s got something else to hide,’ said Hardcastle. ‘Fetch Catto in here.’
    Seconds later, Henry Catto hovered nervously in the DDI’s doorway, apprehensive as always in the DDI’s presence.
    â€˜You wanted me, sir?’
    â€˜I’ve got a following job for you and Watkins, Catto.’ For a moment or two, Hardcastle studied the junior detective, wondering whether he had made the right decision in selecting him for the job he had in mind. ‘Captain Haydn Villiers has just left my office. He said that he spent New Year’s Eve with a lady. I want you to find out who she is.’ He picked up his pipe. ‘Although I’ve got my doubts that such a lady exists.’
    â€˜Do we know where this Captain Villiers lives, sir?’ Catto was taken aback at the enormity of the task that the DDI had just set him and Watkins.
    â€˜He’s staying with his mother in Battersea while he’s on leave, Catto. Sergeant Marriott will give you the address and a description of the man. But he was away from that address last night, and he claimed that he was with a lady. If that was the case, it’s an odds-on chance that he’ll be there again tonight. Follow him. Discreetly.’
    â€˜What time d’you want us to start the observation, sir?’
    â€˜In time to make sure you’re bloody well there when he sets off, Catto.’ Hardcastle waved an impatient hand of dismissal.
    â€˜Yes, sir.’ The DDI’s reply left Catto with a dilemma. If he and Watkins arrived too early, there was a good chance of them being seen loitering; and they did not want to arouse suspicion. To arrive too late might mean missing the captain altogether.
    â€˜And don’t make a Mons of it, Catto.’
    â€˜No, sir.’
    Marriott followed Catto out of Hardcastle’s office and into the detectives’ office opposite.
    â€˜Catto.’
    â€˜Yes, Sarge?’ An unhappy Catto turned to face