Chapters 1-5           Chapters 6-10            Chapters 11-15           Chapters 16-20              Chapters 21-25 Title: Keep One Eye on the Road Chapter 11 Hope’s Sound and Video Gerrard St, London W1 1030 hours “There it is!” Gunny pointed to the small shadow on the screen. “Good God, you must have used more than a magnifying glass. How did you ever spot that?” Mac inched closer to the computer screen. Gunny shrugged nonchalantly.  He didn’t like being fussed over for doing his job. “What can you do for me?” Mac turned her head to the video technician at her side. “Well, we’ve cropped the surrounding areas you’re not interested in.  With a little digital enhancement here.” The woman typed furiously on the keyboard. “ And a little shift over here.” Mac watched amazed as the shadow took a nearly clear form. “...And voila.” The tech stabbed at a key and the ‘new’ video began playing. All three faces were glued to the screen, even if the tech wasn’t sure of what she was looking for, or what the two yanks hoped to find, she loved watching her handiwork in action. “There!” Mac pointed. “Can you freeze that?” “Piece of cake.” With another tap of the keyboard, the enthusiastic tech had frozen and magnified the small portion Mac had singled out. “It’s not really clear enough, ma’am.” Gunny leaned into the screen. “I mean, it looks like some sort of coat of arms, but there must be an awful lot of aristocrats running around England with a ring similar to that.” “Maybe. But at least now we know there were two people involved. If Moore was a loner, maybe this will help dissuade Baskin at least a little bit.” Mac stepped away from the computer. “I want at least two copies of what you’ve done here,” she smiled at the helpful tech.  Turning to Gunny she continued without skipping a beat, “Good work, Gunny.” She’d looked at that particular tape more than once. She would never have noticed the other man. After waiting a short while for the tape copies, Mac and Gunny started back for the office. “Do you want me to show this to Scotland Yard, ma’am?” Gunny asked opening the car door for her. “Not yet, let’s see what else we can come up with first.” Mac turned the engine while Gunny walked around to the passenger side and slid into the car.  “I need you to find out where the guards get their uniforms.  There has to be a paper trail to track this man down.” “Yes, ma’am. Consider it done.” Mac was finally beginning to feel like she would be able to get a handle on this case.  Now they knew for sure, the so far unknown guard was indeed an imposter.  Most likely a wealthy imposter if the gold ring on his finger was any indication. Yes, they finally had something to go on. Beth James Desk Five days later Gunny hesitated as he drew closer to the Petty Officer’s desk.  This wasn’t the first time he’d caught her staring at that photograph. He hadn’t gotten close enough to see what, or who it was. She always slipped it into a drawer before he could catch a decent glimpse.  Ever since her odd reaction the other day, he thought she seemed distant, lost. “Afternoon, Beth.” Gunny dropped the box of files at the edge of the desk, barely catching a glimpse of the framed photo. “I...I didn’t hear you coming.” Quickly Beth pulled open the middle drawer. “Someone special?” Gunny ventured. Nodding her head slowly, Beth stopped midway from tossing the memory into the open drawer.  Pulling it back in full view, “He was.” Her eyes remained glued on the image in front of her. Gunny swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat.  Did that mean ‘was’ as in now living with a gorgeous blonde in Chelsea, or ‘was’ as in a plot at Arlington Cemetery? Snapping out of her reverie, Beth tossed the photo down and slammed the drawer shut, probably a little harder than she’d intended. “What have you got there?”  She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, trying to portray a calm control she didn’t feel. “Last year’s disability reports the Captain asked for.” “I thought you were working with Mrs. Rabb on the museum burglary?” “That too.” “Getting anywhere?” “Not really, but we will.” Gunny took a step back before turning to Beth again, “About the picture, I... I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m sorry.” Gunny nodded politely then did an about face, always the squared away marine. Beth watched Gunny walk towards the door when she heard herself say, “Greg.” “Excuse me?” Gunny turned his shoulder not completely sure he’d heard anything at all. Clearing her throat, “His name was Greg.  Wrong place wrong time.” She opened the drawer slowly, pulling the photo out as though it were made of gold. “Car bomb in Tikrit. Thirty-four days ago.” Almost shaking, she stretched her arm out, offering the photo to her new friend. Gunny hadn’t meant to hesitate, but he felt as though he was intruding somewhere he didn’t belong.  Noticing the increased unsteadiness of her hand, he hurriedly accepted the frame. “We were...close.” “You look happy.” Gunny was pleased to see his remark bring a hint of a smile to her face. He couldn’t really tell from the photo, she was laughing so hard, but it appeared he was right about her looking good with her hair down. “We were.  That’s Bury St. Edmonds. Nice little town.  You should take time to explore more than London.” Beth reached out and took the photo back. “Thanks. Maybe when this case is done I’ll have a little more time to follow your advice.” “Oh, good, Gunny.  I was hoping you were still here.” Mac turned to Beth, “Is the Captain very busy?” Even though it was almost quitting time, Mac didn’t want to wait for Harm to get home. “I'll let him know you’re here.”  Waiting for the sound of her superior officer’s voice to respond on the intercom, “Sir, your wife is here.... Yes, sir.” “He says to go right in.” Beth started up to get the door when Mac waved her down. “Follow me, Gunny,” Mac signaled the marine. Opening the door, Mac found Harm only a few feet away moving towards her. “This is a nice surprise.” Reaching out for her, he wrapped one hand around her waist ready to pull her in for a much-needed kiss when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Gunny following not far behind her. “Sir,” Gunny snapped to, desperately trying not to smile at the scene he’d almost caught. Swallowing a short chuckle, “I just got back from meeting with Seaman Moore,” Mac spoke as she walked over to Harm’s desk. Taking a seat, Harm waved for Mac and Gunny to have a seat as well. “Nothing seemed very familiar to him,” she continued without interruption. “He didn’t really pay much attention to people.  The only reason he remembered me is because he kept bumping into me.” “If he was as awkward as you say, shouldn’t he have ‘bumped’ into someone else?” Harm suggested. “According to the guards he stumbled into a lot of people and things, but other than to say excuse me, or I beg your pardon, I’m the only one he actually spoke with,.”  Gunny sat silently listening, but if he had an inkling to voice an opinion, he would think it was obvious to anyone why the seaman had noticed the colonel.  A man would have to be dead not to remember her. “When I showed him the photo of the ring, he remembered something he’d forgotten.” Harm and Gunny both inched slightly forward in their chairs. “About a week before the theft, Moore was leaving the document hall, and accidentally bumped into a man in the doorway. He wouldn’t have exchanged more than a passing apology except he heard a loud clanking sound at his feet.” Harm’s brow inched high on his forehead. Mac nodded her head once, “Yup, our ring was rolling along the floor.  The man quickly explained that he’d lost a lot of weight recently and hadn’t had time to have it resized.” “I guess it would be asking too much to have gotten a name?” Harm added. “All he could remember was that the guy mumbled something about my father would be furious if I lost this. When Moore responded by asking if it was a family heirloom, the man responded that he and his brother had the only two left.” “So we’re not looking for one ring but two?” Gunny added, a slight gleam in his eye. “And brothers,” Mac added. Chapter 12 Rabb Flat Later that night Harm and Mac had snuggled onto the sofa as was becoming their habit of late after dinner.  “Do you really think it will be easier to find the owners of the rings now that we know we’re looking for two?” “Considering there are probably a couple thousand jewelry stores in and around the London area, no I don’t think it’s going to be easy.  Gunny is going to change the parameters of his search to some of the better known jewelers to the ‘upper’ upper crust. If the family has two rings, we’re taking a chance on really big family bucks.” Letting out a short yawn, Mac rubbed her eyes. “Here.” Harm slipped out from under her, fluffed a cushion against the arm of the sofa, and spun Mac so she was reclining comfortably.  Grinning at her groan of protestation, he grabbed both her ankles with one hand and slid underneath her on the other end of the sofa. Within moments, Mac had sunk further into the comfy piece of furniture feeling all the day’s tension flowing away as Harm methodically rubbed light, pressured circles across her tired feet. “What about the uniform, any luck with that yet?” “Gunny’s still working on that.  I can’t believe he spotted that.  It seemed absurd that no one remembered the guard who finally took custody of the papers, but seeing the video of the man shedding his coat to reveal a full uniform underneath explains a lot.” Mac squirmed slightly as Harm’s fingers brushed lightly over a ticklish spot. “It also proves our accomplice theory.  The thief couldn’t be injecting the cases and stripping in the corner at the same time.  There’s definitely at least two of them.” Harm applied increased pressure to the underside of Mac’s foot. “If this ring thing pans out and we can track it back to the same person who bought the uniform, well, the museum patch actually, almost every museum in London has guards with similar uniforms, but each one has a distinct emblem. If Gunny can somehow track down who purchased a uniform and emblem for the Maritime to a name that doesn’t match the employee roster, we might be able to find our man.” “Has there been anyone to corroborate Moore’s statement he left at 1600 and didn’t go back?” Harm began working on Mac’s other foot. “No. Even though the front lobby surveillance tape shows what looks like Moore leaving the building, it also shows what looks like Moore coming back in a short while later.  Even the logs at Ruislip weren’t helpful.  With housing being off base, there’s no way to disprove he didn’t report for duty immediately from the museum heist. No, our only chance is to find the actual perpetrator.” “If anyone can unravel this mystery, it’s you and Gunny.” Harm watched Mac fight the heaviness of her eyelids. “Mattie doesn’t need any help with her homework tonight. What do you say we call it an early night?  I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself and let you finish that book you’ve been trying to read.”  Harm smiled that sexy little grin that showed just a sliver of tongue between his teeth. “Who says I want you to keep your hands to yourself?” Before Mac could make a move on her handsome sailor, the short clanking sound of the doorbell rang. Harm patted Mac’s thigh and shifted out from under her legs.  “I’ll see who it is.” Opening the door impatiently, Harm wondered who would be coming by at this hour. “What are you doing here?” “Nice to see you as well, Captain.” Waiting just a beat, Baskin nudged his way past Harm, “Thank you, I’d be delighted to join you for a cup of tea.” Closing the door behind him, Harm stood stunned, staring at the brazen agent. “I guess that means I’m putting on the kettle.” Mac hopped up from the couch, more than a little curious as to why Baskin was calling at her home.  In all that went on during the Jack the Ripper case, he’d never attempted to do business at their home. “No need, Mrs. Rabb.  I simply did not want to stand at your door discussing what I have to say with all your neighbors.” “And just what do you have to say?” Harm stepped up to the man, putting a deliberate space between Baskin and Mac. “Actually, I have something to show you.” Pulling a rather thick file out of his briefcase, he handed it over to Mac. Mac took a few steps backwards until her legs bumped the sofa, forcing her to sit.  Harm watched his wife’s face intently as she quickly scanned the first few pages, finally deciding he and Baskin should have a seat as well. Baskin waited patiently for Mac to peruse the pages knowing it wouldn’t take her very long to grasp their meaning. “Why?” she asked glancing up briefly from the file, still having covered only the first part. Baskin silently studied her a minute. “Why me? Why now?” she repeated. “It seems your Gunny is making a name for himself.” Baskin sat back in his chair. “For a man who has only been in London for a little more than a week, he appears to be making friends in all the right places.” Mac looked up at Harm. “This file is on the Earl of Habersham, or I should say his two sons, his twin sons.” Mac emphasized the word ‘twin’. Harm’s only response was a single raised eyebrow. “We’ve had trouble with these chaps for years.  They’re like Cary Grant’s ‘le chat’ in To Catch a Thief.  We know who the culprits are, we just can’t prove it. They’re suspected of being connected to some of the most daring burglaries in England.” Mac flipped through a few more sheets of the lengthy report. “Why?” She looked up at Baskin. “According to this, the Earl of Habersham is a very wealthy man.” “Yes. He’s one of the few hereditary Peers in the country who still has a good deal of money to go with the name.  They’re not in it for the money.” “Then for what? The thrill?” Mac was beginning to understand. “I think they fancy themselves a modern Thomas Crown. Grew up watching to much television if you ask me.” Baskin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “It would certainly answer the one lingering question of why steal an item so difficult to dispose of profitably.” “Yes, it would,” Harm added pensively.  He was trying to figure out the inspector’s angle.  He still hadn’t really answered Mac’s first question. “If you’ve known about these ‘chaps’, why are you going after Seaman Moore?” Harm asked, his irritation obvious. “Because until your Gunny started asking the right questions, we honestly hadn’t made the connection.” “And...” Harm knew there was something missing. “And, frankly, without something more substantial, Scotland Yard isn’t going to be able to extend the investigation. The official position is that your man did it.” “But the unofficial position...” Mac let hang. “You might stand a better chance of finding what you want, if you know what you’re looking for, but of course, you didn’t get that from me.” Standing up, he nodded at Mac then Harm. “I can see myself out. Thank you for a lovely evening. Enjoy your reading.” Without further ado, the inspector made his way to the front door and quietly let himself out. Chapter 13 Rabb Flat Same time Harm sat staring at the closed front door.  What the heck just happened? Mac glanced from the door to her husband, to the folder in her lap, then back to her husband. “Was what happened what I think just happened?” Mac cocked her head sideways completely surprised by the turn of events. “You mean Scotland Yard’s leading hotshot giving you the key to clearing your client, unofficially. Yeah, that’s what just happened.” “Remind you of anybody?” Mac glanced back at the door. “Don’t even go there.” “No, really.  Remember when a few of us were held hostage in the admiral’s office and Clayton slipped you a file about the truth of what was going on?” Mac raised her eyebrows at him. “I really don’t want to stroll down memory lane tonight, if you don’t mind?” Harm really didn’t want to discuss his one time friend, her one time lover, and their all the time spook. “I’m sorry, but wasn’t it Clay who told you where to find the Russian Scientist who knew your father? And it was Clay who slipped you the tape of the Angel Shark that broke the case wide open.” “Okay. I’ll give you this move reminds me of something Webb would do, but I hope you don’t think that’s going to make me like this guy any better?” “Harm...” Mac walked up to Harm and placed her hands gently on his chest.  “What I’m saying is, maybe Inspector Baskin wouldn’t be such a bad ally after all.” Mac kissed the tip of Harm’s nose.  She hoped eventually there would come a day when they could discuss the Clayton Webb of the past without the horrid memories of who he’d recently become causing them both pain. “No point in looking a gift horse in the mouth. Let’s take that to bed and I’ll help you go through it.” Harm pointed with his nose at the file she’d left on the sofa. “I thought I already told you, I don’t feel like reading tonight.” Leaning in and placing a barely there kiss at the hollow of his neck, Mac slid her hands down his chest, along his hips, and taking one of his hands in each of hers, she walked backwards leading him to the privacy of their bedroom. Mac had spent the better part of the next day reading the information Baskin had left her.  These two brothers were an interesting pair. Both held figurehead positions in their daddy’s plastics company, but neither had ever worked a day in their life.  The sister had a flair for business and helped dad with the day-to-day drudgeries.  The daring duo apparently had spent the better part of their adulthood masterminding impossible heists. Mac’s eyes grew wider and wider at the who’s who of world treasures they’d allegedly managed to pilfer. Anything from one of a kind Roman coins, to a wall-sized El Greco painting.  Although there had been circumstantial evidence building against them through the years, no one had ever been able to build a strong enough case to warrant dragging one of Britain’s oldest noble families through the courts. Flipping through photo after photo, Mac couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. These two really did consider themselves a modern day Thomas Crown.  They apparently never left home without a beautiful token on their arm. Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six, and blondes for Albert, and redheads for Oliver. Wyedean Weaving Store Portland Place, London Next day Surprisingly, there was only a handful of stores in the area that carried the correct insignia for the National Maritime Museum.  It had taken Gunny all morning to go through the first page of his list. Fortunately for him, the majority of the stores appeared to be located in the textile district of London. “May I help you?” the elderly man greeted Gunny. “Yes, sir.  I’m Master Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, USMC.  I’m wondering if you recognize either of these two men?” Gunny held out a couple of photos that the Colonel had given him. “Whooo,” the man whistled loudly.  “Quite the lookers, aren’t they?” “Yes, sir,” Gunny swallowed a chuckle, “I need you to tell me if you’ve seen either of ‘the men’ in here in the last, oh, say two or three months.” The man studied the photos carefully, “This one here looks a little like a bloke who was in here once looking around.  I remember him because he kept hovering over the insignia braids over there, but wouldn’t say much. Whenever I asked if he needed help, he’d just shake his head no. Thought it was odd for the amount of time he spent in here. It was like he was memorizing everything in the case.” “Did he buy anything?” “Mind you, I’m not sure it’s even the same bloke, but no, if it is, he didn’t buy anything.” The man continued staring at the photos. “Can’t even imagine what it would be like to have the likes of them on my arm.” Slowly he turned the photos back over to Gunny. “Do you keep lists of the patrons who purchase the National Maritime badges?” It had taken Gunny the first four stores before he remembered not to call them patches. “Now why would an American Marine need to know who I sell museum badges to?” An odd look of doubt appeared across the man’s face. “It’s my job to help uncover the truth, sir.” Gunny hadn’t shifted from at ease stance since entering the store.  He waited as the shopkeeper studied him further. “Not all, but I’d be happy to show you the ones I do.” A few minutes later the gentleman emerged from a back door carrying an alphabetical file.  “I hate computers,” the man seemed to apologize as he rummaged through a particular section. “For the last three months, you said?” “Yes, sir,” Gunny nodded. “Here you go.” He handed over a stack of about 20 or 30 pages. Gunny sifted through the pages looking for any link to the Habersham clan.  When none of the names jumped out at him, he pulled out his list of employees. “Did any of these orders seem unusual?” Gunny asked as he continued matching names of buyers to employees. “No, can’t say that they did.” Gunny focused slightly longer on the last piece of paper. “This one doesn’t seem to have as much information as the others.” Taking the sheet and looking it over a minute. “That’s right. I’d forgotten about this character.  Rang in an order. Didn’t want to leave his name, said he’d be sending his assistant to pick it up. Told me to put it under her name, Marjorie.” “That struck you as odd?” Gunny thought the old man might be onto something. “Not so much that, but he insisted that I wrap the badges up tightly so they couldn’t be seen by the assistant. I asked if he wanted it gift wrapped, not that I could imagine why, but he said no.  He wanted to make sure I understood the assistant was not to know what was in the bag.” “Can you describe the woman?” “Oh, yes.  He got my interest then, he did. I stayed past my shift to see who picked up that particular package.  Nice looking woman. Nothing special. About forty, give or take a few years. Average height for a woman, maybe five foot six.  Had a bit of gray a little heavier on one side. Thought it made her look a tad exotic.” The shopkeeper shrugged apologetically for his indiscreet observation. “What about her weight? Was she heavy, thin?” “Average, like I said, nice looking.” “Thank you very much. If you remember anything else about the men in the photos, or the person who placed that order, call me at this number.” Gunny gave the man a card with his number neatly printed. Now all Gunny had to do was determine what relationship this woman had to the Habersham boys, and if her name was really Marjorie? Chapter 14 London Headquarters Next day Mac’s temporary office “I guess it pays to know people in high places,” Meg teased. “Being married to the boss can have its advantages.  I think if Harm wasn’t short lawyers he wouldn’t have let me park myself here.” “Now that I think back, all the exciting cases I’ve ever had in my career all happened when I was partnered with Harm,” Meg continued lightly nodding her head. “Excitement does have a way of following him around” “And you. After all, it was you the young seaman kept bumping into.” Chuckling quietly, “Yeah, I can’t very well blame this one on Harm, can I?” Before Meg could respond, Mac’s cell phone went off. “Hello.” It still sounded odd to her own ears not to be answering Colonel MacKenzie. “I see. No, I think you’ve put in long enough a day.  We knew it was a long shot. Let’s regroup in the morning and see if we can’t come up with another plan.” Meg watched Mac carefully. She could see the frustration literally rising up her spine as she stiffened in her seat. “Not going well?” she asked as soon as Mac had hung up. “Gunny may have found something that will help us track down who purchased the fake uniform, so that’s positive, but he’s spent almost all of today searching for a jeweler who would recognize the ring our suspect was wearing.” “No luck, huh?” Meg interrupted. “No.  We thought for sure there would be a slew of rich Brits with family crest jewelry,” Mac didn’t mean to sigh out loud, but she needed some air. There were so many loose ends dangling in her face like a carrot, and she just couldn’t quite get a firm hold of it. “Maybe your genealogy people can help?” “My what?” “You know, that place you told me about where you found your naval ancestor.” “That’s not a bad idea. Surely he’s familiar with all sorts of family crests. Meg you’re a genius!” Mac jumped up from behind the desk and grabbed her briefcase. “I could just kiss you.” Rushing past Meg’s chair, “Sorry to chat and run, but if I hurry I can make it to the shop before they close.” “No problem. Glad I could help.” Meg smiled, standing in the doorway. Those two were so suited to each other. She was going to miss this place.  Pearl seemed so boring in comparison. Heritage House 1745 hours Mac paid the cabby, cursing herself for not having taken the tube. Whatever made her think a cab in London during rush hour would be faster? Relieved to find the shop still open, Mac stepped inside waiting for the young man who had helped not too many weeks ago. “Mrs. Rabb. What a pleasure to see you back so soon.” The handsome salesman extended his hand to Mac. “Thank you. You did such a wonderful job on my family history, I was wondering if you might not be able to help me out with a little something else?” Placing her briefcase on the table beside her, Mac pulled out a photo. “I’m trying to place the family crest on this ring. Do you think you might be able to help me?” Staring at Mac a moment, the gentleman accepted the photo without looking away. “Very well.” He looked at the picture briefly before walking over to the old oak desk that was still buried deep in large leather-bound volumes. Reappearing with a magnifying glass in hand, he carefully studied the blurry enlargement. “Have you been looking for this long?” he asked without looking up. “A few days.” Mac leaned a little forward, watching him intently. “You’re not going to find a family crest to match this.” The man looked up and saw Mac’s shoulders literally deflate. “I thought for sure if anyone knew what this was, you would.” “I didn’t say I didn’t. I said you won’t find a family crest.” “Excuse me?” “This isn’t a crest. It’s a signet ring.” “A signet ring?” “Yes, when people actually used paper to communicate, or in this case, when the nobility proclaimed decrees, they would seal it with wax and this ring.” He handed Mac back the photo. “Often these rings did use the family crest but in many cases a less ornate design was chosen.” “Then you recognize this signet?” “I believe so.” The man walked to the other side of the room, reading the binding of several books as he moved along. “If memory serves me correctly, this emblem belonged to the Viscount of Helmsley.” Pulling out a small, but thick book, he flipped through pages, then turned to face Mac, not noticing the way she deflated at the name Helmsley. Mac stepped over to the table he had laid the book on.  “Yes, there it is.  The Viscount of Helmsley.” Mac looked over at the photo in the book.  It did in deed match. “And who would have this ring now?” Mac straightened her shoulders.  Technically it didn’t matter if it didn’t belong to the Bobsey twins. The important thing is that it leads to whoever pulled off the heist. “The Viscount of Helmsley was a lesser son of the Fourth Earl Habersham. There are three rings all together.  One for Viscount Habersley, and another for Viscount Hartfords.  I believe the three rings are still passed down through the Habersham family.” Mac was ready to do cartwheels. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” the man hesitated. “Would you be willing to testify in court that the ring in that photo belongs to the Viscount of...." “Helmsley, and no the title Viscount of Helmsley is no longer used. Although the title Viscount is a hereditary title, when the twelfth Earl Habersham rose to the title, he declared his descendents would no longer use the honorary title of Viscount. A rather odd gesture in that era. Some say the Twelfth Earl was suffering from syphilis and made several out of sorts decrees.” Recognizing he was now telling tales. “If I had to venture a guess as to whom the ring might belongs to, since the Earl of Habersham has only two sons, I would think this ring belongs to the younger of the two.” “And that would be because?” “Originally Helmsley was the least notable title. Less land and wealth than the other two.” “Hence the younger of the sons.” Mac was catching on “So would you be willing to testify to this in court?” “Yes, I am confident enough to state that the ring in that photo is the signet ring of the Viscount of Helmsley.  I can not however, attest to who owns it today.” “I won’t need you to. If all goes well, I won’t need you at all.” Patting the man on the forearm, “You have been very helpful. Thank you.” Moving as she spoke, Mac almost ran out the door and up the street to hail a cab. Finally something solid in her client’s defense. London Headquarters Same time “Where’s James?” Gunny asked PO Blair. “In the head. Should be back any second.  Need to see the Captain?” “Actually, I’m looking for Colonel MacK, I mean Mrs. Rabb,” Gunny corrected himself. “You’ll have to wait for James.  I know I saw Mrs. Rabb around here not too long ago, but I have no idea where she might be now.” “Where was she when you saw her?” “In her office with Commander Austin.” “Hmm. I just came from there.” Gunny looked up across the small bullpen. “Here comes James.” Blair pointed behind Gunny. “Thanks, Jim. Sorry to keep bothering you,” Beth smiled sweetly. “No problem.” Gunny watched Blair walk back to his own desk. No wonder she didn’t like asking him to fill in for her. It was obvious from his tone that ‘no problem’ meant just the opposite. “Can I help you?” Beth looked up at Gunny, wondering what he found so fascinating. “Oh, yeah. I’m looking for Colonel MacKenzie.” “She didn’t say where she was going, but she literally ran out of here about an hour ago.  You might try Commander Austin. I believe she’s still here.”  Beth had gotten used to hearing Gunny refer to Mrs. Rabb as the Colonel, somehow, even in civilian attire, the courtesy suited her. “Thanks...and uh, you’re a girl...” Beth chuckled loudly, “Yeah,” she said sardonically. “Last time I looked.” “Sorry, didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that women know everything about shopping and I need to get one of those hand held shower attachments.  The apartment I have only has a tub and I’m going to go nuts if I don’t get a descent shower soon,” Gunny let out a frustrated breath. “Know what you mean. Everyone has that problem. Even at enlisted quarters. Most older buildings with low rents haven’t been updated. Believe it or not, the cheapest place to get what you want is at the Woolworth’s right around the corner from here.” “Woolworth’s?” “Yeah, they’ve got them all over the place.” “Thanks, I wouldn’t have known that.” Noticing him looking a little awkward, something rather unusual for the Gunny, she ventured a little further. “Do you want some help shopping for that?” “Hmm?” He’d been lost in thought. “Oh, no. I was thinking about something else, but if that’s an offer to guide me through the maze of household accessory shopping, yeah, I’d love some help.” “Okay, it’s already past quitting time, but I have a few more things I want to finish up before securing for the day. I should be able to get out of here in about half an hour. Is that too late?” Beth looked up from her watch. “Perfect. Gives me time to track down the Colonel. I’ll meet you back here in thirty.” Without anymore conversation the Gunny was off to Commander Austin’s office.  He needed to move on with the business at hand, but his mind kept nagging at him. He didn’t have time to be thinking about James, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Chapter 15 London Headquarters Commander Austin’s office Gunny stood in the doorway prepared to knock when Meg looked up. “It appears everyone is working late today.” She waved the marine into her office. “Need something, Gunny?” “Actually, ma’am. I’m looking for....” Gunny was cut off by the sound of the intercom buzzing. Holding up a finger for him to wait, Meg punched a button and reached for the handset. “Yes, no problem. He’s right here.”  Extending the phone to Gunny, “Mrs. Rabb is looking for you. Petty Officer James patched her through to me.” “Thank you, ma’am.” Gunny accepted the phone, and moved around the desk, lessening the tension on the cord. “Gunny?” Mac’s voice came through loud and clear. “Yes, ma’am.” “I’ve got it. We’ve got our first connection to the family.  Now we really need to find out who Marjorie is. If we can connect her to the younger brother, I think we’ll have enough to go to Scotland Yard.” “I’ll get back on it right away, ma’am.” “No, Gunny. It can wait till morning.  You’ve put in long enough a day. I’ll be in by 0900.” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here.” Gunny handed the phone back to Commander Austin. “Did you still need to see me for something?” Meg asked, fairly sure it had been Mac he was looking for. “No, ma’am. Thank you. I was trying to find the Colonel.” “She went to the place that did the genealogy for her family. She was hoping to get a connection to the family crest.” “Looks like she found it, ma’am,” Gunny smiled, having a better idea of what the Colonel sounded excited over. “Good. Hopefully it will be the break y’all need to set this case in motion.”  Meg’s Texas accent didn’t show through very often, but once in a while she’d let out a y’all, or a fixin’, and her roots would show. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me?”  Gunny waited for Meg’s nod and turned back towards Beth’s desk. He still had twenty minutes to kill.  Hopefully the Colonel had been able to connect the ring to the Habersham’s. Clachan Pub Kingsley St 2030 “It’s very nice of you to offer to feed me.” Beth slipped her package onto a nearby chair. “It was the least I could do after you battled the housewares department with me.” Gunny pulled out a seat for her. Thanks.” Sitting down, “I still can’t believe you weren’t going to buy a shower curtain.” She shook her head, looking around for the pub menu. “There’s no rod,” he justified. “That’s why we bought one!” Beth couldn’t stop shaking her head. Such a squared away marine and yet, still a man. Clueless when it comes to simple domestic matters.  She couldn’t help but think it was a good thing she had come along, or heaven knows what a mess he’d have made the first time he used his new showerhead. “The bath rug wasn’t a bad idea either.” Gunny watched Beth still shaking her head at him, obviously trying to stifle a laugh. “Go ahead, you can say it.” “Okay. Men!” she laughed out loud. “The honest truth is men were designed to hunt, not shop.  That’s why I’m a marine.  Uncle Sam usually supplies the showers, and curtains and bath mats aren’t on the supply list.” Beth’s expression quickly changed from amused to more solemn. “You’ve been on the front lines a long time,” her voice was low and contrite. “It’s been a long fight.” Gunny could only assume her suddenly glum countenance had something to do with the boyfriend in the photo.  “Are you hungry?” he grinned broadly, trying to regain the cheerful mood of earlier. “Famished. I can’t seem to get enough fuel lately,” she rubbed her hands together, a sincere smile on her face.  “This is a lovely place. How did you ever find it? You’ve only been here about a week.” “Single men are good at scoping out where to eat. I’m not fond of kitchens.  This place really reminds you of just how old the world really is.” “Yeah, well, an E6 can’t afford to not like cooking,” she chuckled. “That’s why this is my treat.” Gunny watched her reading the board with the day’s specials. She looked really tired, despite the pleasant smile. “I know what I want. I’m going to have the mussels, then the fish and chips, and with a little luck, I’ll have room left for the shortbread surprise. But, you’ll have to excuse me first, I need to see a man about a horse.” Beth walked towards the back stairs in search of the ladies room. When she returned to the table a few minutes later she noticed Gunny fiddling with a cocktail napkin as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders. “Penny for your thoughts?” Beth smiled when Gunny popped up to help her with her chair again. “Just thinking. I didn’t know what you’d want to drink so I got you water for now.” “That’s fine. Thanks. This case is really starting to get to you isn’t it?” She took a long sip of her water. “Colonel Mackenzie may have gotten a break today.  She’s a good lawyer, damn good lawyer, but with the right evidence, Seaman Moore could avoid trial all together.” “You really like Mrs. Rabb, don’t you?” Gunny studied her seriously for a moment. “She’s an excellent marine. Even for an officer.  She has earned my respect and my trust. I would follow her to hell, knowing she would bring me back.” “I didn’t mean to imply...” “I know you didn’t, but she and Captain Rabb are two of the finest officers I have ever served under.  I just want to make that clear.” Gunny took a gulp of his beer. “I can tell.  Captain Rabb took it hard when Mary was killed, and I saw how he and Mrs. Rabb worked to find the truth. I knew they’d catch the guy, or in this case, girl.” A sweet smile crept across her face. “What’s the grin for?” Gunny was curious. “Nothing,” she almost blushed. “I don’t buy it. What is it?” “Well, it’s just nice how they are together. You know...in love. It’s sweet. I can’t believe how he treats her after all these years.” “All these years?” Gunny didn’t understand. “Well, yeah.  You can just tell they’ve been together forever.” “I guess so,” Gunny chuckled. “Okay, so now what’s so funny?” Beth returned. “I’ve known the Captain and the Colonel a long time, and lets just say that most of us knew how they felt about each other long before they did, or at least before they’d admit it.” “Well, they’ve got it right now.” Beth looked up as the waitress brought them their appetizers. “You like mussels too?”  She delved into her first crustacean with gusto. “Apparently, not as much as you,” he teased. “I can’t help it. I told you I was famished.” She slurped at another shell. “I’m glad to see you’re taking good care of yourself,” Gunny let slip. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Her eyebrows curled in confusion, Beth continued scarfing down the next goodie on her plate. “I... I... just know you were upset the other day, and... uh...” Gunny had been debating with himself all afternoon if he should say something. This was none of his business. He barely knew the woman. It wasn’t his nature to stick his nose where it didn’t belong, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to help himself. “What?” Beth finished the last mussel, and set the fork down, contentedly wiping a drip of sauce from the corner of her mouth. Taking a deep breath, “I get the impression you’re not feeling well, maybe...pregnant.” Beth’s eyes grew wide and round. “What...what makes you say that?” “I have four sisters, and thirteen nieces and nephews. I was around for nine early stages of the pregnancies, and back in DC we had a perky Lieutenant who didn’t seem to have any trouble conceiving. I recognize the symptoms.” Unconsciously glancing down at her flat tummy before looking up at Gunny, “Such as?” “That photograph you showed me of you and your boyfriend, it was taken in front of a pub, but you’re drinking water now. I also heard you’d taken a few days sick leave shortly before I arrived. Ensign Barnes mentioned it often enough.” “Just two days, well, technically only one and half, but go on.” “I’m sure lots of people take sick days, but scuttlebutt has it you’d been noticeably out of sorts. The day you slammed me in the midsection. You looked, ill. Actually, shocked was more like it.  Even when my sisters were trying to get pregnant, finding out they were the first time was always a little bit of a shock.” Beth just stared, her heart climbing slowly into her throat. “Today, when you were clearing up your desk, I noticed you’ve got a bag of saltines in your top drawer. It wasn’t there last week. But the real give away is how often you use the head.  For a woman of your age...” Gunny waited to see if she’d fill in the blank. “Twenty-seven.” “Okay, at twenty-seven, and in good health, a pregnancy would explain such a weak bladder and the need for saltines in your desk. I’d say not that early along either.” Gunny waited to see if she’d confirm, deny, or slug him.                                                                       BACK         NEXT                                                                 HOME