A Vengeance of Spies, page 6
He spun away from me. Stranded up against the fireplace, he drank deeply of his Glenlivet. ‘I respected her, some of the time. I cared for her, always. And we were related, in a way, you and I. There are days when that has been enough.’
‘But the children?’
‘I love my children and their children with every fibre of my being. They are my solace, all the days of my life.
‘But it is you I have loved, Grace. It always was and is and will be. And I didn’t say what I should have said to Katherine because of it. I didn’t want her dead, but I did want to punish her for taking you.’
He sat down in an arm chair. ‘For what it’s worth, I am genuinely sorry. I realise it doesn’t bring her back, or give you the life you think you could have had.’
‘You don’t think we could?’
‘I think if anyone could, it was you two. It would have been hard, though.’
‘Mother said much the same.’
‘She wasn’t always wrong.’ He smiled then, sadly, his thoughts on other times and other people.
Shaking himself back to now, he sat up straight again and looked me in the eye. ‘There is a reckoning, obviously. I always knew that if you lived long enough, there would be.’
‘You could have seen me killed.’
How many operations did he oversee these past decades? How many grey-shaded lines could he have crossed where a single word spoken out of turn would have seen me dead?
He laughed at this, sadly. ’No,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t. And if you don’t understand that, you have forgotten the nature of love.’ He set down his glass. ‘How are you going to do it?’
‘Scopalamine injection. It’s fast.’ Not painless, I’d say: being unable to move so that you suffocate is probably not the kindest of deaths, but it is far from being the least kind.
‘You don’t think anyone will find the injection site?’
‘I’ll cover it.’ I’ve done this before: Brigadier Vaughan-Thomas had me trained in things that normal people should never know. Once in a while, I have used all that was taught me.
Edward said, ‘Would you let me use the car, as she did? If I swear not to back out of it?’
I had the syringe in my hand. I could have finished him then. I said, ‘You’ll run.’
He raised a brow. ‘Knowing you’d hunt me for the rest of my short, painful, arthritic life? I don’t think so. You forget, I’ve read your files. And I’ve had a good innings. It’s time to go.’
If he hadn’t said the bit about my files, I might have believed him; but he was never a man to use flattery without reason. But even so…
‘The Scotch,’ I said. ‘Put these in and drink it.’ From my pocket I brought a small bottle of barbiturate tablets. More than enough to stun an elephant.
Studying the label, he gave a dry laugh. ‘Are the investigating forces supposed to believe I saved these since my mother’s death?’
‘I think we’ll say they came with the house.’
‘Which is true, in its way.’ He tipped half the bottle onto his palm. ’You don’t need them?’
‘I have more, thank you.’ I have enough to die a dozen times over. I took one the night after our visit to Bletchley, to be sure they still worked, but other than that, I haven’t touched them since I left Margaret’s care.
Edward raised his glass. ‘Faster than the car,’ he said. ‘And kinder than the nerve agent. I never thought of you as merciful.’ He took them all in one go, washed down with the Scotch.
I sat with him as he fell asleep. I did inject the Scopolamine, but not until he was unconscious. I am surprised at my own mercy.
I wrote his suicide note: forgery is a matter of practice and I had practised every day for the past weeks.
I cleaned up so that nobody knew I had been there. And I drove home, so that Katherine - your mother, not my Katherine - could ring me, tearfully, and tell me her father had gone to join her mother and they would be as happy together in heaven as they had been on earth.
I told you she was good at not seeing what was going on around her. Nobody else thought they were happy. Just that we had not thought to question why Edward spent his whole life being brittle, sour and angry. And now you know.
So this time we have reached the end. If you have got this, then I am dead. I am writing at a point when my choices are reducing: my mind is not what it was, my body rebels against the smallest tasks, and I am tired more than I have ever been. I have barbiturates. I have a car. Neither is the best way, though.
It is growing ever colder and I think it may freeze tonight. I am going to sit out in the circle of stones with a bottle of Chateau Lafitte and nothing warm to wear. If I am still alive come sunrise, I may try something different, but I trust this will not be necessary.
The moon will rise and I shall send images of the shadows of the stones to Katherine, in the hope that she will be there to meet me, wherever ‘there’ is.
I have sent this by the slowest post, so you will have had time to get used to my absence, and - I hope - to discover that the Shipwrights is yours (But not the car. Don’t take it from Oliver. He’ll give it to you, but you will do yourself damage).
Please live well, with my blessing, and know that I loved you always, fiercely.
Go in peace, my little lion. Live well and fully and never shy away from passions that feel too strong. Do what feels right and do it wholeheartedly. And I will be there to greet you when the time comes, wherever ‘there’ might be.
With all my love,
Grace.
Author’s Note
Author’s Note
In the days when I was a veterinary clinical academic, we used to say that every PhD thesis should spawn at least half a dozen more. And it seems to be the same with books: writing one opens up doors to a whole avalanche of others. So it was with ‘A Treachery of Spies’ – the sequel, ‘A Web of Spies’ lay planned out before I’d finished the final sentence. And there were prequels and interstitial stories that fit into the many, many gaps. I wrote ‘First Taste of Treachery’ (which is available as a free short story to people who sign up to my newsletter) the better to get to know Sophie’s back story, and this – A Vengeance of Spies – arose as a way to ease myself into the people who will come to populate ‘A Web of Spies’. I needed to understand Grace and all that drove her – and now I understand at least part of who she is and what she does.
The core of the story arises from the commonly acknowledged fact that the cryptologists of Bletchley Park did inform the high command of the assaults on Coventry. Like many other warnings, no action was taken so that the ability to read the enemy’s ciphers would not be inferred. Many more lives were lost to this deliberate non-action than purely those in Coventry, but this was the greatest loss of civilian life that we know of, and it wasn’t so much of a leap from this to a ‘what if that pain could not be borne?’ and then to the vengeance that might flow after it.
I don’t imagine this exact sequence of events has ever come about, but it does seem to matter to remember that the casual destruction of lives was not limited to those on the front lines: everyone who lived – and died – during the war years did so under exceptional circumstances in order that we could live in peace. If we are to throw that away – as we seem intent on doing – it behooves us to remember the sacrifices made by those who went before us.
As ever, the work that goes into a book is huge and even a novella takes many hours of editing.
Huge thanks, therefore, to Katy Moran, fellow author, friend, dog-walking companion, almost-neighbour - and stellar editor, for her care and suggestions.
And final thanks to Faith Tilleray, who made it all possible, and pushed for it to happen.
Shropshire
February 2019
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About the Author
Formerly a veterinary anaesthetist, Manda Scott is the author of sixteen novels and half a dozen short stories including the Sunday Times best selling ‘Boudica’ series, the ROME series, and the Sunday Times thrillers of the month, ‘Into the Fire’ and its sequel ‘A Treachery of Spies’. Her books have been shortlisted for the Orange Prize, The Edgar Award and the Saltire Literary Prize. You can find her online at https://mandascott.co.uk and on Twitter at @MandaScott.
Other Books by Manda Scott
A Treachery of Spies
1943: a young French woman is in the final stages of training with the SOE. About to be sent to join the Maquis in occupied France, she must first learn the true details of her assignment: and the series of interlocking lies she will have to tell if she is to survive. Because Sophie is a member of the ‘Equipes de Tueurs’, the assassins of the French Resistance, sent to kill any French man – or woman – who betrays them.
2018: When an elderly woman of striking good looks is found murdered in a car park in modern day Orléans, police Inspector Ines Picaut learns that the method of her death is the one used by the Special Operations Executive in the war: but the mutilations afterwards are those visited on someone who betrayed the Resistance.
Moving between the two time lines, this ‘most exquisite story of heroism, deception, love and treachery’ (Simon Mayo, Radio 5 Live) delves deep into the past to shed light on the present.
“This is a rich vein for fiction, and Scott does it more than justice, with this beautifully imagined, beautifully written, smart, sophisticated – but fiercely suspenseful – thriller.” Lee Child
“… the most exciting, involving thriller I’ve read in an age, and I can’t recommend it highly enough.” Mick Heron.
Buy A Treachery of Spies
Into the Fire:
1429: Orléans is under siege. The English thought they had a sure route through to the south and final victory over their old enemy of France. But, contrary to all the laws of God and men, a young woman is fighting on the French side – and winning. Caught between the two sides, double agent Thomas Rustbeard must infiltrate the heart of the French forces if he is to learn the truth: because whatever else she may be, this young woman is no rustic peasant on a mission from God. She’s a knight, and if Tomas can prove her provenance, he can help England to win again. Except, of course, that if he gets close to her, he may find he doesn’t want England to win any more.
2014: Orléans is in flames, and in the fire is a body, the first of many who have died to keep a secret six hundred years old. Charged with investigating the murder, police inspector Ines Picaut finds that the past still has a hold on the present: that some myths are too powerful to be challenged without risk to the lives of those she cares about – and ultimately, herself.
Leaping brilliantly between the 15th century and today, Into the Fire is an extraordinary blend of the past and present.” Terry Wogan, Irish Times
Buy Into the Fire
Boudica: Dreaming the Eagle
In the company of a supreme storyteller, the reader is plunged into the unforgettable world of tribal Britain in the years before the Romans came: a twilight world of Dreamers and the magic of the gods; a world where horses and dogs and the landscape itself become characters in their own right; where warriors fight for honour as much as victory. Above all, it is a world of passion and courage and spectacular, heart-felt heroism pitched against overwhelming odds.
"A stunning feat of the imagination and an absolute must-read for lovers of historical fiction. Utterly convincing and compelling." Stephen Pressfield
“Scott’s richly detailed novel brilliantly captures the driven, passionate soul of the Celts. The lyric prose captivates, the characters ensare. The legendary queen Boudica breathes, lives and absolutely rivets.” New York Times.
“Every so often a book comes along that totally remoulds a historical figure for our own times…” Scotland on Sunday
Buy Dreaming the Eagle
Rome: The Emperor’s Spy:
54 AD Rome is burning. Only one man can save it. Sebastos Pantera, the spy whose name means leopard, is out in the cold: a man who has ‘gone native’ in his last assignment in Boudican Britain (and yes, some of the surviving characters from the Boudican books do make an appearance here; some as cameos, some essential to the plot).
Returning to Gaul, Pantera wants nothing more to do with Rome and its political machinery. His mentor, tutor and spymaster is Seneca, the man who ruled Rome from behind the scenes for the first five years of Nero’s reign. Exiled now, Seneca must work in secret, but when the Emperor Nero finds a prophecy stating that Rome will burn under the eye of the Dog Star, Seneca suspects that one of his other pupils will endeavour to make the prophecy come real: Saulos has made himself leader of a radical religious sect and burning Rome is the least of his ambitions.
" A fine book, one that transcends genre labeling." Andrew Greig.
Buy Rome: The Emperor’s Spy
No Good Deed
Manda’s powerful thriller debut, is the terrifying tale of a lone woman pitted against an enigmatic killer — a man who deals out death without a second thought…
For Detective Inspector Orla McLeod, violence is a way of life. As a child, her own world was ripped apart by a brutal, unforgettable moment of terror. So when the Special Branch operation she is spearheading goes disastrously wrong, she will do everything she can to protect the nine-year-old boy caught in the cross fire. For Jamie Buchanan was the sole witness to an act of savagery committed in cold blood by a man rapidly becoming one of the most feared criminals in Europe.
"It’s a while since a thriller came down with the breathlessness of Ludlum and the literary heft of Le Carre. Manda Scott pulls off this feat with horrific style in No Good Deed.” San Fransisco Chronicle
“Orla Mcleod is a remarkably tough and touching creation. Not many crime writers can move so quickly and deeply into the hearts of their characters, or their readers.” Chicago Tribune
Buy No Good Deed
Copyright notices:
A Manda Scott ebook
First published by Manda Scott in 2019
Manda Scott has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior permission in writing of the author, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Manda Scott, A Vengeance of Spies
