Perseverance Street (31 page)

‘I suppose you could be right. By the way, there was a rumour that he’d put a Malton girl in the family way. So, if there was a problem having kids, it wasn’t his problem.’

‘Nice man,’ said Lily.

There was a pause in the conversation as Lily framed her next question. The all-important one. ‘Brenda, when he confided in you about him and his wife not being able to have children, did he say anything else on that subject?’

‘That’s why I’m ringing you,’ said Brenda. I went over one afternoon and he’d been drinking. Some of our guards weren’t above taking a back-hander from the Eyeties. I reckon Randle was one of them.’

‘Go on,’ said Lily, eager to hear this part of her story.

‘Well, I took the post over. He was in charge of distribution and he had his own little office. He was sitting there behind a bottle of whisky when I got there. Well in his cups. He asked me how he might go about buying an orphan child from one of our children’s homes.’

‘Why would he want to do that?’

‘Well, he was rambling a bit but I got the impression that he wanted to take one home with him after the war. He confided in me that he wanted to surprise his wife by taking a ready-made child home with him. I told him I didn’t think our orphan children could be bought like that.’

‘And
what did he say to that?’

‘Say? He just picked up the bottle and finished it off. Then looked at me as if I was an imbecile. He said anything can be bought if the price was right and he had the money to buy anything or anyone he wanted. Then he started spouting a load of Italian which I don’t speak, so I left him to it. Can’t do with drunks, me. Never thought any more about it until Jimmy told me about his roasting from Major Bykers.’

‘So, do you think it’s possible that he paid Randle to get him a child?’

Without hesitation, Brenda said, ‘Absolutely! That sleazy old sod’d sell his wife if the price was right – not that he’d get much of a price for her.’

‘Do you know when Mancini left Eden camp and which camp he was sent to?’

‘I think the Italians left around May last year and I think they were sent to all sorts of different places, not just prison camps. They’re being held in football grounds, racecourses, parks, tents, country houses. As far as I know no German or Italian prisoners ever managed to escape back overseas so the odds are that Mancini’s still in this country, but I’ve got no idea where he ended up. I know some were sent to York racecourse. He could be there. Jimmy might know. He’s got access to records.’

‘I bet
Randle knows,’ muttered Lily.

‘Randle’s gone,’ said Brenda. ‘Didn’t you know?’

‘Gone? Gone where?’

‘He got himself a medical discharge about three weeks ago. He and his wife vacated their quarters and went off leaving no forwarding address, just a house full of furniture, apparently. Didn’t Jimmy tell you?’

‘No – we’re not in regular touch with Jimmy. Charlie last spoke to him just after Jimmy got his roasting. He was doing us a favour.’

‘Hey. I know all about doing you favours.’

‘Sorry about that.’

‘Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I quite enjoyed it at the time.’ Brenda paused for thought then added, ‘Look, Lily, your story makes sense to me after what I know from this end, so I want to help. Would you like me to have a word with Jimmy about where Mancini ended up?’

‘Would you? Brenda, that would be so helpful.’

The pips went on the line, indicating that it was time to put more money in or be cut off. Brenda said, hurriedly, ‘Either me or Jimmy’ll get back to you.’

‘Thanks Bre—’

The disengaged tone came on and Lily put the phone down and looked at Dee who been intently listening to her end of the conversation.

‘I think we might have the name of the Italian who’s got Michael,’ Lily said. ‘It’s a man called Major Mancini and Brenda’s trying to find out where he was sent to from Eden.’

‘Lily, that’s excellent news!’

‘Mixed
news, really. The Randles have done a bunk so we won’t be getting any more information out of them. I think I should ring Charlie and see what he thinks.’

Brenda watched in
some consternation as Jimmy limped across the guard compound towards the CO’s hut. It was a miserable late November day, cold, windy and raining.

It was she who’d set these wheels in motion by telling Jimmy about Major Mancini, and if Jimmy got busted for what he was about to do she’d feel it was all her fault, despite the idea being his. She liked Jimmy and would have said yes if he’d ever asked her out. But he was a man with principles and she was a girl who always had a current boyfriend, sometimes more than one. Still, she had the man of her dreams now. Her RAF officer.

Jimmy, the man with principles, felt it was all wrong that this information about Randle and Mancini shouldn’t be made official. He gritted his teeth as he tapped on Major Bykers’ door.

‘Come!’

Jimmy entered and clicked his heels to attention in front of the major’s desk. The officer wasn’t wearing a hat so a salute wasn’t necessary. Jimmy’s uniform was soaked from his short walk from the camp office and he was wishing he’d put his topcoat on. Bykers didn’t look up from the papers in front of him. He didn’t seem to be in the best of moods. On the wall behind him was a large-scale plan of the camp and a photo of a very pretty woman in WAF uniform. Jimmy knew this was Bykers’ wife and wondered why she’d chosen him. A woman like that could have had the pick of the crop. Bykers was many things, but handsome wasn’t one of them.

‘Yes?’
said Bykers, still with his attention focused on his papers.

‘I’ve er, I’ve been doing a routine check through the camp records and diaries, sir, and the records of one of the prisoners is missing. I just thought I’d better report it … sir.’

There was a leak in the roof and a bucket was in place, catching the constant drips. Jimmy was wondering if he might have picked a better day. Bykers, recognising the voice, looked up. ‘Sergeant Dunkersley. Are you on an efficiency drive to make up for your recent misdemeanour? Why bring this direct to me and not to Lieutenant Danvers?’

‘I couldn’t find him, sir,’ lied Jimmy. ‘I think he must be off camp. I was checking the prisoner lists against their personal files and records, sir, and I couldn’t find any records for an Italian prisoner – Major Mancini. Everything pertaining to him seems to have been removed from the files, including where he was transferred to back in May of last year.’

Bykers sat back in his chair and regarded Jimmy thoughtfully. The silence was punctuated by rainwater dripping into the bucket.

‘There’s
more to this than you’re telling me, isn’t there, Sergeant?’

Jimmy had a decision to make. Pretending had never been one of his strong points.

‘Yessir.’

He was now suspecting that he could lose one or more of his stripes after this, but he also believed Lily’s story and felt honour-bound to help. ‘I believe there have been one or two unusual coincidences recently, sir. One is that Sergeant Randle left very quickly after the rumour about him abducting a boy. He also left without taking his furniture or leaving a forwarding address.’

‘Sergeant Randle left without leaving a forwarding address because he didn’t have one at the time,’ said Bykers sharply. ‘He was also mentally affected by the cowardly attack on him, which is why he was given his discharge papers.’

‘According to records we still haven’t got a forwarding address for him, sir.’

‘And why do you find this a problem, Sergeant?’

‘I find it curious, sir.’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, sir, the rumour about Sergeant Randle was connected to another rumour about Major Mancini buying the abducted boy from Randle.’

‘This would be the boy called Michael Robinson.’

‘Sir.’

‘Which is the real reason why you were checking on Mancini’s records.’

‘Yessir,’ admitted Jimmy.

‘So Mancini was this mysterious Italian, was he?’

Jimmy paused,
then admitted, ‘Yessir. I just found it odd that the two men who are at the heart of these rumours have both disappeared without trace, sir. On top of which, Sergeant Randle had access to the camp files, so he could have removed Mancini’s records.’

‘Sergeant. Is this a personal crusade of yours, or is there an ulterior motive?’

‘I don’t understand, sir.’

‘Are you in contact with the missing boy’s mother?’

‘She came here a few weeks ago with a friend of mine, Charlie Cleghorn. He was stationed here for a short while, sir.’

‘Ah, yes. I remember Private Cleghorn. Came to help out as an interpreter, didn’t he?’

‘Yessir. We both came together, sir’

‘And he’s in league with the boy’s mother?’

‘They’re friends, sir. He’s convinced her story is the truth and she’s convinced that Sergeant Randle is the person who took her son … sir.’

Bykers picked up a fountain pen and twirled it between his fingers, expertly. ‘And what about you, Sergeant? Are you convinced?’

‘I just thought you needed to know the whole story, sir.’

The major put down his pen and stroked his moustache, thinking it could be a blessing that Randle been discharged and had disappeared without trace. Similar with Mancini, whom he had never liked. It would be better for the army for the whole thing to go away, but this man standing in front of him wasn’t the type to let it go away. All the seniority of rank in the world wouldn’t scare this man into not doing what he thought was right. The officer allowed time to pass as he thought of the least painful solution. The water dripped into the bucket; Jimmy stood rigidly to attention, as he hadn’t been given permission to stand at ease, which he found a bit disconcerting. He was uncomfortable; not sure he’d done the right thing; his khaki uniform heavy with rainwater; his eyes focused on the wall just above Major Bykers’ head, where the photo of Mrs Bykers hung.
Drip, drip, drip
. The major arrived at a decision.

‘The original
crime, Sergeant – the abduction of the boy – is a civilian matter. I believe the Leeds police are dealing with this, are they not, Sergeant?’

‘Yessir. A Sergeant Bannister.’

‘Then we must not hamper their investigations by interfering. I’ll alert Sergeant Bannister to everything you’ve told me. He may wish to come over here and interview you. In the meantime I want you to keep all this under your hat. Do not go spreading it around the camp.’

‘Yessir.’

‘Is there anything else, Sergeant?’

‘No, sir. Thank you, sir.’

‘Very good. Dismissed.’

Jimmy did a smart about turn and marched out into the rain before breaking into a run to get back to the camp office before he was completely saturated.

Bykers sat at his desk for several minutes, mulling over the best way to proceed. He came to the conclusion that it would be better if this matter didn’t proceed at all but that wasn’t his decision to make. He picked up the phone and asked the telephonist to put him through to the Leeds City police.

‘This
is Major Bykers of Eden camp. I wish to speak with someone connected with the disappearance of the boy, Michael Robinson.’

They were in Mary
Cleghorn’s house, sitting in the comfortable living room. Mary, who had effortlessly assumed the role of grandma, had the sleeping Christopher in her arms. Lily looked on approvingly, wishing Michael was here as well. Her missing boy was never more than an inch away from her thoughts. Even in her dreams, Michael was always there.

Charlie glanced at her and knew he was in love with her but he also knew he’d be wasting his time making any sort of overtures while her son was missing. She got on with her life under Dee’s vigilant guidance. They worked the markets three days a week while Mary looked after Christopher, and the other four days were devoted to Christopher and to their search for Michael.

A week had gone by since Jimmy’s talk with Major Bykers, during which time Lily had been hopeful that Bannister might have got in touch with Jimmy to pursue the missing records angle, not to mention Randle doing an overnight bunk and leaving no forwarding address. It had seemed to all four of them, including Jimmy, to be such a good line of enquiry that they were amazed it hadn’t been followed up. Charlie guessed the army would prefer this story to go away. A child abduction carried out by a British soldier under the pay of a former Italian POW wouldn’t look good in the national press. Dee suspected the police might like it to go away as well, in view of the what the law had done to Lily. Both agreed it was a cover-up. That morning Lily had rung Bannister.

‘I know
about Sergeant Randle doing a bunk and about this Major Mancini, who’s said to have paid Randle to abduct my son for him, disappearing off the face of the earth after having his records removed from the camp. What are you doing about it, Detective Sergeant Bannister?’

‘My superior discussed this with the camp commanding officer and they decided that these events are probably not linked, and individually are not as unusual as it might seem. Records do get lost and Sergeant Randle was under severe mental stress.’

‘And you believe that, do you?’

Bannister made no reply. Lily went on. ‘I find it strange that you didn’t bother to have a word with Sergeant Dunkersley who brought these matters to his CO’s attention.’ Lily’s voice now had a sharp edge to it. ‘He certainly thinks it’s all very odd – and he’s much more involved with the camp records than his CO.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Robinson, but we can’t devote police resources to investigating baseless rumours, which is all these are. We have people working on your cases all the time. As soon as we hear anything we’ll let you know.’

‘In other words, the army want to cover it up,’ said Lily, with ice in her voice. ‘And you don’t want the truth to come out after the way you’ve treated me. Tell you what, never mind, Sergeant. Don’t bother. We’ll find my boys ourselves!’

It had
been Lily’s idea to meet at Mary’s and to put their collective heads together and plan the next move. It was there that Mary revealed news that came as something of a shock to them, especially to Charlie.