Certain matters involving red tape can be very difficult for a civilian to unravel. There was something Yeats might do that would save an awful lot of time. “Eight orphans from the Bluebell Home were transferred to Stoneville, York Street, Wakefield. They have been certificated for emigration to Canada, sailing from Liverpool. Please find out how the certifications can be revoked and they can stay under the care of friends.”

“It’s not the kind of thing I’ve ever dealt with, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-One

Annette Kerner has the bosom of an opera singer, which she once was, and moves with the grace of a dancer. Combs adorned her crimped hair. Her dress shimmered.

I joined her at a small table near the bar. She ordered cocktails.

“I know you’ve been involved with a tricky case, Kate. I thought you might be in need of moral support and a little cheer.”

I smiled. “That’s very sporting of you.” We raised our glasses.

“The truth is, I have an undisclosed interest in your case, and now I must come clean.”

“What?” I expected her to say that Commander Woodhead had offered her the job first, but it was not that.

“A good friend of mine, Bernard Campaner, attached to the French Embassy, is here, with someone who’d like to meet you, before you and I have lunch.”

I felt a sense of dread, remembering the day of Helen Farrar’s funeral, and the young man at the graveside. “Harry Aspinall’s son?”

“Yes. You don’t have to. Now I feel I’ve brought you here under false pretences.”

I stared at the glazed cherry in my cocktail. “I’m not sure what I could say to him.”

“And to her. Harry Aspinall’s widow is also here.”

It was one of those moments when my mind went completely blank. Suddenly I felt the strain of the last few days, and my sleepless night on the train and at cousin James’s. How could I say I didn’t feel up to this?

“We have a private room, Kate. They will be going back soon, taking Mr. Aspinall’s body to France.”

It was the kind of situation where there was only one possible answer. “Yes of course I’ll meet them.”

She glanced across the room. “Oh look! What good timing, there’s Bernard now.” She waved to an elegantly dressed man who approached us from the other end of the bar.”

On cue, I thought.

“Kate, may I introduce Bernard Campaner. Bernard, Mrs. Kate Shackleton.”

“Enchanté!” He kissed my hand, causing me slight unease. He was about thirty-five, not handsome but with an attractive vitality about him.

It was up to me to make the next move. “How do you do, Monsieur Campaner. Do draw up a chair.”

“I am grateful that you have agreed to meet me, Mrs. Shackleton.”

“Yes, though I am not sure –”