"Thomas!" Pryce almost shouted.
"Unexpected! But always welcome, even unannounced! Come in, come in!
Hugh, to the cupboard quickly, let us entertain our guest with some appropriate foodstuff! Have we any chocolate left?"
"Hello, Phillip," Tommy said quickly.
"Hugh. Actually, I'm not making a social call."
Pryce dropped his feet 10 the floor with a thud.
"Not social? Ah, most intriguing. And by the distinctively harried look on your young face, something of significance, I'll wager."
"What's the problem. Tommy?" Hugh Renaday asked, standing.
"You look like, well, you look like something's up.
Hey, Fritz! Take a couple of smokes and wait outside, how about it?"
"I cannot leave, Mr. Renaday," Fritz Number One said.
Hugh Renaday stepped forward, while Phillip Pryce also stood.
"Is there a problem at home. Tommy? With your folks or the famous Lydia that we've heard so much about? Surely no…"
Tommy shook his head vigorously.
"No, no. Not at home."
"Then what is the matter, lad?"
Tommy spun about. The other occupants of the hut were out, which he thought was fortunate. He did not expect the news of the murder to be secret long, but he recognized that it might be wise to conceal it as long as possible.
"There's been an incident over in the American camp," Tommy said.
"I have been ordered by the SAO to help with what for lack of another word I'll call the 'investigation."
"What sort of incident. Tommy?" Pryce asked.
"A death, Phillip."
"Holy mother, this sounds like trouble," Hugh Renaday burst out.
"How can we help you, Tommy?"
Tommy smiled at the hulking Canadian.
"Well, actually, Hugh, they've authorized me to enlist you. You're supposed to accompany me, right now. Kind of like an aide-de-camp."
Renaday looked surprised.
"Why me?"
Tommy grinned.
"Because idleness is the devil's playground, Hugh. And you've been far too idle for far too long."
Renaday snorted.
"That's cute," he said.
"But not an answer."
"In other words, my brusque Canadian compatriot," Pryce interrupted briskly, "Tommy will fill you in shortly."
"Thank you, Phillip. Exactly."
"Is there something I can do in the interim?" Pryce asked.
"Eager does not describe my enthusiasm."
Tommy smiled.
"Yes. But we'll have to talk later."
"Very secretive, Tommy. Hush, hush and all that. You have definitely pricked my not insubstantial curiosity. Don't know if this old heart could actually stand to wait too long."
"Bear with me, Phillip. But things are just happening. I got authorization for Hugh to help. It was just a guess, but I didn't think they would allow me anyone else. At least not officially.
Especially a high-ranking British officer. And especially one who was a famous barrister before the war. But Hugh will fill you in on everything we learn, and then we can talk."
The older man nodded.
"Rather have a direct hand in whatever it is," he said.
"But without details, I can still see your point. This death, then, I take it, has some importance? A political importance, perhaps?"
Tommy nodded.
Fritz Number One shuffled his feet.
"Please, Lieutenant Hart. Mr. Renaday is ready. We should make our way now to the Abort."
Both the Canadian and the British officer looked surprised again.
"An Abort?" Pryce asked.
Tommy stepped into the room and reached out and grasped the older man's hand.
"Phillip," he said quietly, "you have already been a better friend than I could have ever asked for. I will need all your expertise and all your capabilities over the next few days. But Hugh will have to provide the details. I hate to make you wait, but I can't see any other way. At least, not yet."
Pryce smiled.
"But, my dear boy, I understand. Military foolishness. I will wait here like the perfect soldier that I am, awaiting your pleasure.
Exciting, what? Something truly different.
Ah, delightful. Hugh, seize your coat and return fairly well stuffed with information. Until then, I will stay warm by the fire, allowing myself to fantasize with anticipation."
"Thanks, Phillip," Tommy said.
Then he quietly leaned forward, and whispered into Pryce's ear the words: "Lincoln Scott, the Negro fighter pilot.
And do you remember the Scottsboro boys?"
Pryce inhaled sharply. The quick intake of wind degenerated into a hacking cough. He nodded with comprehension.
"Damn damp weather. I recall that case. Infamous. Go swiftly," he said.
Renaday was swinging his thick arms into his coat. He also grabbed a pencil and a thin and precious pad of drawing paper.
"All set, Tommy," he said.
"Let's go."
The two airmen, with Fritz Number One urging them to hurry, marched toward the American compound. Tommy Hart filled in Renaday on what he'd learned in the commandant's office, and briefed him on both the fight and the incident at the wire. Renaday listened carefully, asking an occasional question, but mostly simply absorbing the details.
As the gate to the South Compound swung open for them, Renaday whispered: "Tommy, it's been six years since I was at a real crime scene. And what we had for murders out in Manitoba were drunken cowboys knifing each other in bars.
Usually there wasn't much to process, because the culprit would be sitting there covered with blood, beer, and Scotch."
"That's okay, Hugh," Tommy said quietly.
"I've never been to a crime scene."
The morning count had obviously been accomplished while he'd been at the commandant's office. The men had been dismissed, but still dozens of kriegies milled about the assembly yard, smoking, waiting, aware that something unusual was going on. The German guards maintained their tight ring around the Abort. The kriegies watched the Germans; the Germans watched them.
The clumps of airmen stepped aside carefully as Tommy, Hugh, and Fritz Number One approached the latrine. The guard squadron allowed them to pass. But Tommy hesitated at the door.
"Fritz," he asked, "you found the captain?"
The ferret nodded.
"Shortly after five this morning."
"And what did you do, then?"
"I immediately ordered two Hundfuhrers who were patrolling the perimeter of the camp to come to the Abort and make certain no one entered. Then I went to inform the commandant."
"How was it you found the body?"
"I heard a noise. I was just outside Hut 103. I did not move quickly, lieutenant. I was uncertain what I'd heard."
"What sort of noise?"
"A cry. Then nothing."
"Why did you go into the Abort!"
"It seemed that the noise had come from there."
Tommy nodded.
"Hugh?"
"Did you see anyone else?" the Canadian asked.
"No. I heard some doors closing. That is all."
Renaday started to ask a second question, then stopped. He thought for an instant, then demanded: "After you found the body, the Abort was left for a time. How long was it before you returned with the two Hundfuhrers."
The ferret looked up into the gray sky, trying to add up the time.
"A few minutes, certainly, flying officer. I did not want to blow my whistle and raise an alarm until I had informed the commandant. The men were located at the wire just outside Hut 116. A few seconds, maybe a minute to explain to them the urgency of the situation. Five minutes, perhaps. So, in total, perhaps as many as ten minutes."
"Are you certain that there was no one else about when you discovered the body?"
"I did not see anyone, Mr. Renaday. After I spotted the body, and after I made certain Captain Bedford was dead, I used my torch to quickly sweep the building. But the night was still upon us, and there are many shadowy places a man could hide. So I cannot be completely certain."