Tell Tale: Short Stories Read online

  “I am grateful to you, Mr. Henderson,” said the justice. “Please allow me a few moments to consult with my colleagues.”

  Henderson bowed, as the chairman and his two colleagues discussed the case among themselves, before coming to an agreement.

  The chairman turned back to face the defendant.

  “Mrs. Dawson,” he began, “despite learned counsel’s moving plea in mitigation, someone in your position must have been well aware they were breaking the law.” Marianne bowed her head. “So I am left with no choice but to sentence you to six months in prison, which will be suspended for two years. However, should you appear before me again, I will not hesitate to issue you with a custodial sentence. But on this occasion, I shall order you to pay a fine of two hundred pounds.” He switched his attention back to Mr. Henderson, and asked, “Is the defendant able to pay this sum?”

  Mr. Henderson turned around and looked toward the back of the courtroom where his client was seated. Arthur nodded.

  7

  ARTHUR TOOK A piece of headed paper from the letter rack on his desk and placed it in the typewriter.

  Dear Mr. Stratton,

  Thank you for your most recent letter, and the three new checkbooks that arrived this morning.

  May I begin by placing on record how much I appreciate the years of dedicated service Mr. Arthur Dunbar carried out on my behalf, and would you be kind enough to pass on my best wishes to him and the hope he will have a long and happy retirement.

  I have checked my latest accounts, which appear to be in order. However, I will be writing to you at the end of the quarter concerning some future investments I am presently considering.

  I should also like you to know that I have recently married, so you may find a new pattern will emerge in some of my transactions. My wife and I intend to travel abroad occasionally, to visit the great concert halls and opera houses of Europe. While we’re away, Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw will continue to run Ambrose Hall, so you can expect the usual bills for household expenses in addition to their monthly salaries.

  May I also add …

  There was a knock at the door, and Arthur stopped typing. “Come in.”

  Morag popped her head round the door and said, “I just wondered what you and Mrs. Macpherson would like for lunch? I still have some of that game pie you’re rather partial to.”

  “Perfect,” said Arthur, “but not too much. Mrs. Macpherson has already chastised me for putting on weight.”

  “And Mrs. Macpherson also asked me to remind you that you’re going into Edinburgh this evening for some concert.”

  “Not some concert, Morag, Beethoven’s Third at the Usher Hall.”

  “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  “Yes, I’m just finishing off a letter to Mr. Stratton, so could you ask Hamish to come up? I’d like him to drive into the village and post it.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Arthur returned to the letter.

  May I also add how delighted I was to learn that you will personally be supervising my account in the future. It gives me succour to know that my affairs will be in such safe hands.

  Yours sincerely

  There was a knock on the door and Laidlaw walked in.

  “You asked to see me, sir?”

  “Yes, Hamish. Just a signature.”

  A GOOD TOSS TO LOSE

  MR. GRUBER HANDED back the boys’ essays before returning to his desk at the front of the class.

  “Not a bad effort,” the young schoolmaster said, “except for Jackson, who clearly doesn’t believe Goethe is worthy of his attention. And as this is a voluntary class, I’m bound to ask, Jackson, why you bothered to enroll?”

  “It was my father’s idea,” admitted Jackson. “He thought there might come a time when it would be useful to speak a little German.”

  “How little did he have in mind?” asked the schoolmaster.

  Jackson’s friend Brooke, who was seated at the desk next to him, whispered loudly enough for everyone in the class to hear, “Why don’t you tell him the truth, Oliver?”

  “The truth?” repeated Gruber.

  “My father is convinced, sir, that it won’t be too long before we are at war with Germany.”

  “And why should he think that, may I ask? When Europe has never been at peace for such a long period of time.”

  “I accept that, sir, but Pa works at the Foreign Office. Says the Kaiser is a warmonger, and given the slightest opportunity will invade Belgium.”

  “But, remembering your treaty obligations,” said Gruber as he walked between the desks, “that would also drag Britain and France into the conflict.” The schoolmaster paused for thought. “So the real reason you want to learn German,” he continued, attempting to lighten the exchange, “is so you can have a chat with the Kaiser when he comes marching down Whitehall.”

  “No, I don’t believe that’s what Pa had in mind, sir. I think he felt that once the Kaiser had been sent packing, if I could speak a little German, I might be in line to be a regional governor.”

  The whole class burst out laughing, and began to applaud.

  “We must hope for the sake of your countrymen as well as mine, Jackson, that it’s a very long line.”

  “If Kaiser Bill were to wage war, sir,” said Brooke, sounding more serious, “would you have to return to your country?”

  “I pray that will never happen, Brooke,” said Gruber. “I look upon England as my second home. Europe is at peace at the moment, so we must hope Jackson’s father is wrong. Nothing would be gained from such a pointless act of folly other than to set the world back a hundred years. Let us be thankful that King George V and Kaiser Wilhelm are cousins.”

  “I’ve never cared much for my cousin,” said Jackson.

  * * *

  “Have you heard the news?” said Brooke, as he and Jackson strolled across to the refectory a few weeks later.

  “What news?” said Jackson.

  “Mr. Gruber will be returning to Germany within a fortnight.”

  “Why?” said Jackson.

  “It seems the headmaster thought it wise given the circumstances.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Jackson as they sat down on a wooden bench and waited to be served lunch.

  “But I thought you didn’t like having to study German,” said Brooke, as he attempted to spear a soggy carrot with his fork.

  “And I still don’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like Mr. Gruber. In fact he’s always struck me as a thoroughly decent fellow. Not at all the sort of chap one would want to go to war with.”

  “We might even be at war with him in a few months’ time,” said Brooke, “and if you’re still thinking of making the army your career, you could find yourself on the front line.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be exempt from that privilege, Rupert,” said Oliver, swamping his food with gravy, “just because you’re going up to Cambridge to swan around writing poetry.”

  “Which reminds me,” said Brooke. “My mother wondered if you’d like to join us in Grantchester for a couple of weeks this summer. And I can promise you some rather interesting gals will be joining us.”

  “Can’t think of anything better, old chap. That’s assuming Kaiser Bill hasn’t got other plans for us.”

  * * *

  Oliver Jackson did spend a couple of carefree weeks with his friend, Rupert Brooke, that summer, before they parted and went their separate ways. Brooke to read Classics at King’s, while Jackson reported to the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst, to accept the King’s shilling and spend the next two years being trained as an officer in the British Army.

  * * *

  In October 1913, Second Lieutenant Jackson of the Lancashire Fusiliers reported to his regiment’s depot in Chester, where he quickly discovered that talk of war with Germany was no longer confined to the Foreign Office, but was now on everyone’s lips. However, no one could be sure what would light the fuse.

  When Kaiser Wil