Hidden In Plain Sight.
Chapter Twelve.
After they had walked Theresa into SI-10, they sat her down in an interview room, gave her a cup of hot, sweet tea and took a detailed statement from her. Raif remained by her side throughout, Theresa clutching his hand, drawing comfort from his presence and nearness to her.
It wasn't lost on Harry that she was still deeply in love with him and, despite her cruelty to Hilda and the realisation that Alex could so easily have been at her mercy, Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
Dempsey didn't though.
It was the very thought his little daughter could have been one of Theresa's victims, that deadened any compassion he might have felt for her.
Raif was very quiet in the back of the car as they drove back to Freddy's.
"You okay Raif?" asked Dempsey, glancing at him through his rear view mirror.
"No, not really." he replied, looking out of his window, staring at nothing, just the recurring image filling his mind of Theresa looking back at him, lost and vulnerable, as she was escorted to a cell.
Harry turned round and studied him for a second or two before asking. "Are you in love with Theresa?" judging the answer might be yes, despite what he might say.
"I'm really not sure." he replied, his mind back in 1960. "She asked me to marry her, you know. It was a leap year and I turned her down. In fact, I finished with her instead. Despite my long affair with her, I was still in love with Helen you see, still grieving for her. It's taken me a long time but I'm past that now and I've laid those memories to rest."
"Theresa will need your love now, Raif." said Harry, softly, ignoring his doubts. "Your support will help her enormously."
"Mmmm, yes." he murmured.
When they arrived at Freddy's Belgravia mansion, they found him in his study, looking downcast.
"Something wrong Daddy?" asked Harry, frowning.
"Could be darling." he replied. "Simon's been in touch. It appears Kurt Scheel might be dead."
"What!?" she exclaimed. "Why? How?"
"Simon's discovered his death certificate, circa 1945, Paris." replied Freddy, solemnly. "The records show that he was found dead, dressed in his uniform, the pockets of which included his identity card and other Gestapo documents."
All three were speechless for a moment until Dempsey broke the silence.
"Nah Freddy, nah, I don' buy it." he said, shaking his head. "Jus' cos' there's a grave an' some paperwork don' mean Steele's dead. No way! Who's ta say the stiff wasn't murdered by him? Think 'bout it. It's 1945, the Krauts've been routed an' scum like Scheel have ta make a run for it. They ain't gonna stroll through Paris in their Gestapo kit!"
"He's right Daddy." said Harry. "Someone as ruthless as Scheel would think nothing of murdering a civilian and swapping clothes and identities."
"I wonder if we can obtain permission to exhume the body in that grave and take a DNA sample." mused Freddy, nodding, clearly agreeing with Harry and Dempsey's summises. "That would prove it one way or another, with the added bonus of knowing the true name of the deceased. From there, we may find a trail that leads us to Christopher Steele."
"What I don' get is why this info has only jus' surfaced, Freddy." said Dempsey. "I've already been in touch with the French, German and Brazilian guys an' all of 'em drew blanks."
"No Dempsey." said Harry. "You checked our records which only had details of a Christopher Steele from 1947 and you spoke to officials in Berlin and Sao Paulo, remember? But you didn't check with Paris."
"Goddamn it, ya right honey!" exclaimed Dempsey, slapping his forehead. "Mus' be slippin'."
"Yes you must." replied Harry, tut-tutting, then giggling at the sheepish look on his face. Despite her love and respect for him plumbing fathomless depths, she still enjoyed exposing the odd chink in his armour and bringing it to his attention. A few years previously she would have relished baiting him incessantly, but her deep feelings for him had mellowed her somewhat, so on this occasion, she simply slipped her arm through his.
"Come on James, let's go and check on Scrumpy. See how the little invalid is."
"Yeah okay." replied Dempsey, somewhat miserably. "An' we better see to that hand of yours too, honey."
While they were away, Raif related the morning's events to Freddy, together with his concerns for Theresa and the state of her mental health.
"Ah so little Hilda is safe and sound. That's marvellous." said Freddy, adding. "But grief can manifest itself in so many ways. Miss Creighton has obviously been consumed by it so badly she's lost all sense of balance. I applaud you for sticking by her, Raif."
"It's the least I can do, sir." he replied, wistfully.
Just then the telephone rang again, Freddy answering it immediately.
"Winfield. Yes, hello again Simon." he said, then listened intently, glancing at Raif and nodding, a smile forming on his lips. "Great work, Simon, thank you! I'll be in touch."
He replaced the receiver and balled his right fist, punching the palm of his left hand in a gesture of celebration.
"It looks as though we are making some progress at last, Raif." he said. "Simon has unearthed a Heidrich Kimmel who was, at one point, one of ODESSA's main protagonists in Sao Paulo. He masqueraded as a Francois Bouvier and may well have helped Scheel."
"Do we know if Kimmel is still alive?" asked Raif.
"That's the best part, he is!" replied Freddy, beaming. "He was rounded up in 1948, shipped back to Berlin, stood trial and given life imprisonment. He was subsequently incarcerated in Plotzensee Prison in Charlottenburg-Nord for forty years before they finally released him on the grounds of ill health. He's seeing out his days in a nursing home - the Diakonischen Pflegewohnheim Schillerpark, to be precise."
"How compos mentis is he, I wonder." remarked Raif. "And if he is, how loyal is he to his old comrades?"
"There's only one way to find out." replied Freddy. "And that's to pay him a visit."
"Pay who a visit?" asked Harry, as she and Dempsey walked through the door, her right arm in a makeshift sling and right hand bandaged.
Freddy ignored her question for the moment, pointed to her injury and opened his mouth to speak. Harry answered him before he asked the question.
"It's just temporary. My hand was beginning to swell up, so we thought it best to rest it. So, who are we paying a visit to?"
Freddy let his concern for her go and brought them both up to speed.
"I'll get Abbott to book Raif and I on a flight to Berlin this evening." he continued. "There's no need for you two to come, you've got Alex to look after. Be rest assured, I will wring every ounce of information out of Herr Kimmell, providing he isn't completely gaga, that is. We'll see him tomorrow morning and be back here by early evening. How was Alex?"
"Oh, out of sorts as you'd expect. I think she's over the worst though and she's thrilled Hilda is home, safe and sound." replied Harry. "She's sleeping now. We'd better put in an appearance at work, Dempsey, Spikings might start spitting nails if we don't. I am supposed to be his PA!"
"I ain't worryin' 'bout Spikings, sugar." said Dempsey. "If he'd needed ya, he'd have nabbed ya when he heard we'd brought Theresa Creighton in."
"All the same we didn't go into the office, did we." replied Harry. "I think we should at least show our faces this afternoon. Mrs Thomas will keep an eye on Alex whilst we're out for a few hours."
Having wished Freddy and Raif a safe journey, Harry and Dempsey put in an appearance at SI-10, only to find the office empty except for Chas and Josh, who were fully conversant with Hilda's rescue and Theresa's arrest.
"Where is everyone?" asked Harry.
"All out on jobs, Harry." replied Chas, then pointing to her bandaged hand remarked. "No wonder - you know you've broken her nose, don't you."
Dempsey whistled, then chuckled. "Hey! I told ya that was one holy mother of a punch, Harry."
"Perhaps I ought to have my hand checked out properly." she said, ignoring Dempsey's exuberance. "It's pretty painful. I'm just wondering if I may have fractured part of it."
"Get it seen to, Harry." replied Chas. "Spikings is on a few days leave, so there's nothing for you to do here right now."
"Okay I will." she replied, then turned to Josh. "Were you still clearing up at Steele's place when they got back with Hilda?"
"Yeah." replied Josh. "Mrs Steele took her straight upstairs, so I didn't see her at all. Arthur Steele came into the kitchen, made himself a cup of coffee, then wandered out to the conservatory. Didn't say a word, didn't even look at any of us - we didn't seem to exist to him."
"Creep!" exclaimed Dempsey. "Did his father show up?"
"No! I've not seen him since he stormed out yesterday, thank God." replied Josh. "How I didn't land one on his chin, I'll never know! What are you doing about him anyway? Any developments?"
"Er, kinda so near yet so far. May have some better news tomorrow." said Dempsey, before turning to Harry. "Right honey, let's get you to a doc."
Harry's hand was x-rayed, but no fracture was found, so she was given a new sling, some painkillers to ease her discomfort and told to keep her hand rested. By the time they had returned to Belgravia, she was practically asleep standing up.
"I'm sorry darling." she said whilst trying to stifle a yawn. "I was up most of last night with Alex and what with today's excitement..."
"Hey honey, rest easy. Get ya'self off ta bed, why doncha." interrupted Dempsey, putting his arm around her. "I'll see to Alex from here on in. Want somethin' ta help ya sleep?"
Harry glanced at him, her eyes holding his with impish mischief. "Is that some sort of euphemism?"
"Huh?" he asked, the inference clearly lost on him.
"No matter." said Harry, smiling, too tired to explain. "No, I shan't need anything, I'll be out like a light before my head hits the pillow."
With their arms around each other's waist, they climbed the wide, curving staircase to the galleried landing and kissed each other goodnight, Harry making her way to their bedroom, Dempsey looking in on Alex. Earlier in the day, Freddy had arranged for a portable television with a built in VHS player to be set up at the end of her bed, so she and Dempsey watched "The Jungle Book" and "Lady and the Tramp" together.
The evening was topped off with some stories read from her favourite Roald Dahl books until she was sleeping soundly, Billy the pink hippo clutched in her arms and Blondie, one of Freddy's two labradors, lying stretched out on the floor next to the bed. She'd been Alex's constant companion ever since the little girl had fallen ill and had made her giggle when Blondie had visibly reacted upon hearing the inmates of dog pound in the film howling in accompaniment to Peggy Lee's famous rendition of 'He's A Tramp'.
Harry was lying on her back, deeply asleep, when Dempsey slipped into bed beside her. She looked so beautiful he'd have given anything to have caressed her awake, knowing she would have reached for him and blended her body with his, her lips eager for him to kiss them, her breathing quickening as her passion mounted.
He sighed at what might have been and slid as close as possible to her without disturbing her, careful not to touch her bandaged hand and placed his right arm across her middle. In her sleep she murmured, took her left hand and closed it over his right, her grip light but firm. They both slept, undisturbed, for the rest of the night.
By morning, their positions hadn't altered and Harry, being the first to wake and feeling totally refreshed, was tempted to move his hand to her breast, but her own damaged hand was throbbing painfully and dampened any desire to make love.
She slid gently out of bed without disturbing him, went into their en-suite bathroom and, taking her bottle of painkillers from a cabinet, shook two out and swallowed them with a glass of water. Then, pulling on her dressing gown followed by her sling, she popped her head around Alex's door and noted she was still fast asleep, Blondie lifting her head to look at her and wagging her tail in greeting. Harry closed the door quietly, then padded down to the kitchen to brew some fresh coffee, Gunner, this time, welcoming her with a frantically waved tail.
The delicious smell of 'Hacienda La Esmeralda', the world's most expensive and exclusive coffee from Panama, sent to Freddy by Rudolf A Peterson, the brands owner and a personal friend, eventually reached Dempsey.
"There's nothin' better than wakin' up ta that smell." he said as he walked into the kitchen, encircling Harry's waist with both arms and kissing her lips. She put her one free arm around his neck, kissing him back while pressing her body into his.
"Oh really? Nothing better?" she questioned, leaning back slightly to look into his eyes, her own drenched in wanton passion, the painkillers having done their job on her injured hand.
"Mebbe second best." he teased, grinning, his hands sliding to her buttocks and making their way under her short nightdress, her breathing accelerating as she felt the centre of his body respond. "Yeah, deffo second best - no question!" he panted, his lips caressing hers, testosterone now coursing through his body, Harry matching him in every way.
If it hadn't been for Abbott calling the dogs for their early morning walk, they could well have been caught en flagrante, lost as they were in each others desire.
"Wanna go back ta bed?" whispered Dempsey.
"Stupid question" she replied, breathlessly, coffee forgotten as they quickly exited the kitchen, passed a startled Abbott in the hall and swiftly made their way up the staircase, pausing briefly to silently open Alex's bedroom door to let Blondie out, praying she wouldn't wake up and finally made it to their bedroom, falling onto their bed, Harry giggling as she tried to protect her bandaged hand by throwing her arm into the air as if she were in the classroom answering teacher.
Later, lying quietly in each others arms, Harry broached a subject that she'd been toying with secretly for a few days.
"James." she said.
"Mmmm?" he replied, his eyes closed, still revelling in the pleasure of the last hour or so.
"I'd like another baby." she announced, biting her lip in anticipation of his answer. Silence descended for a moment or two.
"Ya would honey?" he said finally.
"Yes, would you?" she asked.
He got up on one elbow and looked into her eyes, eyes that were electric blue and searching his, waiting expectantly for his answer. He leaned in and kissed her lips.
"Sure would, angel. 'Bout time Alex had a little brudder or sister, huh?" he replied. She pulled him down to her again, kissing him.
"Er, y'ain't already, er ya know - are ya?" he asked, the look on his face a picture.
"What, pregnant?" she asked, giggling at him. "No, of course not. Alex was unplanned and I promised you at the time, our next one would be with us both agreeing on having another. I just feel now is the right time - and anyway, I've been feeling quite broody lately."
Dempsey chuckled. "Then bring it on, princess!"
"Mmmm, well, if the last hour's anything to go by, I'd say we've started with a vengeance." she giggled again, reaching for him once more, wriggling closer and whispering. "Do you think we could get away with seconds without being disturbed?"
"There's only one way ta find out." he replied, beginning to kiss her neck, his fingers lightly stroking her skin, his arousal irreversible as she arced her body and moaned in pleasure.
If marks could have been given out of ten for perfect timing, Alex would have scored the maximum. Dempsey had only been out of bed for ten seconds and making his way to the shower when she knocked on the door and opened it without an answer.
"Hello Scrumps, what are you doing out of bed?" asked Harry, thankful she'd had the forethought to slip her nightdress on moments earlier. Under different circumstances, she'd have ticked her daughter off for not waiting to be told she could enter the room, but made an allowance this time on the strength of Alex's illness.
"I'm hungry, Mummy." she replied, in a somewhat fabricated little lost voice. "Can I have some ice cream, please?"
"I should think so, although it's only because you're poorly." said Harry, not falling for her daughters obvious ploy but getting out of bed and placing a hand on her forehead. "You've still got a temperature and you know ice cream is only for pudding and special treats, don't you."
"Yes Mummy." replied Alex, coyly, as Harry took her hand and led her back to her bedroom. "What have you done to your hand?"
"Oh er, I caught it in the car door, darling." said Harry quickly. "Now, get back into bed and I will bring you some ice cream."
Alex did as she was told, pulling the bedclothes up to her chin, her violet blue eyes looking lovingly at her mother. "Can I watch a film?"
"Yes darling, which one?" asked Harry, searching through the various Disney cassettes.
"The one with all the dogs, please." ordered Alex.
"You mean 101 Dalmations? The white dogs with lots of black spots?"
"Yes that one, Mummy. It makes me laugh."
Harry selected it, inserted it into the VHS player and left Alex giggling in anticipation as it began to play, Billy the hippo perched on her lap facing the TV so he could watch it too.
She dished out a bowl of strawberry ice cream, set the coffee machine up again to brew a fresh pot and returned to Alex's room, leaving her sat up in bed, a tray in front of her and tucking into her favourite treat, Billy now moved strategically to one side but still facing the television.
Forty-five minutes later, Harry and Dempsey were showered and dressed and sitting in the dining room, eating breakfast cooked up by Mrs Thomas and swilling back the delicious, expensive fresh coffee.
"Alex is on the mend, James. She's sitting up in bed, watching a Disney cartoon and filling her face with strawberry ice cream." said Harry, adding with a laugh. "And Billy, her pink hippo, is watching it too!"
"Hope she don' throw up all over him." chuckled Dempsey, equally amused.
"No she won't. I didn't give her very much anyway." replied Harry still smiling, then changing the subject. "Do you think she'd like a baby sister or brother?"
"Well, her nose might get pushed outta joint." said Dempsey. "I mean, she's had us on her own for nearly five years, almost six by the time another baby's in the house."
"Hmmm, that's assuming I catch pretty quickly." replied Harry, looking a little concerned.
Dempsey grinned at her. "I guess in that case kiddo, we'd better keep tryin' our hardest."
"Hadn't we just!" laughed Harry, relishing the potential challenge.
By early afternoon, they were beginning to wonder how Freddy and Raif were getting on when, almost on cue, they heard the telephone ringing in the hall, Abbott answering. Moments later he knocked on the door and entered the room.
"A message from his Lordship, Miss Harriet, Mr Dempsey." he announced. "He and Mr Fitzallan are at the airport awaiting their flight. They will be back by early evening and his Lordship instructed me to have a bottle of champagne chilled and ready for their return."