Cast No Shadow, Peter Sharp [books to get back into reading txt] 📗

Sybilla to the French was a hated collaborator. At length he said, “Can I speak to you in confidence?”

“People do so all the time,” replied the priest without the slightest trace of humour.

For the second time in the space of a few days, Kelly told his tale. The priest remained silent until he had concluded.

“I knew there was something,” said Rahn. “That’s why I concocted that story about a jammed weapon. I knew you had frozen and I was sure it wasn’t from fear.”

“Thank God you missed!” said Kelly.

“For once, God had nothing to do with it,” said Rahn, “I was a marksman in the Legion. I shot wide.”

“Why?” asked Kelly in astonishment.

“You clearly wanted this woman to remain alive, even to the point where you were prepared to sacrifice your own life. That was a strong enough reason for me to support you. So, I shot wide to frighten her and get her moving.” He smiled at the memory. “I thought at one point, during that moment of time, that the two of you were going to engage in a deeply metaphysical argument.”

Kelly smiled in return. “Thank you, Padre, you have kept a dream alive.”

“I hope you fulfil your dream, Dan. Will you continue to search?”

“No!” Kelly responded sadly, but with conviction. “I have nowhere left to search. Inga is in touch with Sybilla, she will know I have searched for her. I suspect it will be easier for Sybilla to find me than for me to find her.”

He sighed deeply. “If she wants to.”

A Chance Encounter

Thunder growled its presence in the night sky over London. Dan Kelly’s mood was as black as the overhead clouds. He had used up most of the money he had accumulated to fund his search and was seriously concerned about his future direction. He turned into the Savoy and made his way to the cocktail bar.

He sipped his vodka and soda slowly, pondering his options. As on previous occasions the exercise filled him with despair. He could not see himself as a banker or a car salesman, and certainly not a civil servant, but what else was open?

He had toyed with the idea of using his linguistic skills to maintain himself, but that would only keep him busy for a short time. As countries emerged from the ruins and debris of the war, there was a surfeit of well-educated citizens who could act as interpreters for wages which left Kelly simply uncompetitive.

He took another sip of his vodka and determined that he would make a decision before he finished his drink. At that moment, the sound of someone calling his name interrupted his reverie. It had been a few years since he had heard that voice, but he remembered it immediately.

“Kelly, old chap?” said Archie Jenkins.

Kelly sprang from his bar stool and clasped the outstretched hand, shaking it warmly.

“Commodore Jenkins, Sir! It is so good to see you. Is it still Commodore? Or are congratulations in order?”

Jenkins was dressed in a lounge suit, which looked incongruous on him. The hair had thinned further and there was the hint of a stoop, but he still looked every inch the naval officer.

“Well, it’s nothing now as I’ve retired, though I suppose we do hold our ranks after retirement. But yes. I did manage to rise to the dizzy heights of Vice Admiral before they booted me into retirement a year ago!” He grinned. “Something about being promoted to your highest level of incompetence springs to mind, does it not?”

He laughed. “Never mind about me,” he continued before Kelly could respond. “I want to hear about you. But let me fill up your glass first, then if you’ve no objection we’ll join a friend of mine over in the corner.” He gestured towards a table as he ordered drinks.

Kelly picked up two of the drinks and walked with Jenkins to the table he had indicated. The man seated there stood as they approached. He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, of medium build with rather untidy dark hair. The face was full of character with intelligent sharp eyes. He smiled thinly as they approached.

“Let me do the introductions,” said Jenkins. “Jack, this is Dan Kelly, Dan this is Jack Donnelly.” Turning to Kelly he said, “Jack works in the Civil Service.” To Donnelly he said, “Dan is just about to tell us what he does. Haven’t seen him for a few years.”

They sat down, Kelly feeling slightly embarrassed. “Fact of the matter is,” said Kelly, “there isn’t a lot to tell. After I left the Navy at the end of hostilities I travelled for a while, mainly in Scandinavia and Northern Europe. It was all pretty mundane stuff really.”

“So, what are you doing now?” asked Jenkins.

“Nothing currently,” said Kelly. “I still have the wanderlust, but I really must settle down and find a new direction.”

Jenkins looked surprised. “Easily fixed, old man. I am now ensconced in a fairly senior civil service post. If you’re interested, I can probably get you an interview.”

“I’m not sure I am, Admiral,” responded Kelly, truthfully. “I need to mull things over.”

Jenkins nodded and inevitably the conversation turned to the war. Kelly and Jenkins reminisced about some of the raids and the work of the Commandos and the SBS. Donnelly contributed little but appeared engrossed in what they were discussing.

It was a further hour before the little group broke up, promising to meet again without specifying time or place. As Kelly started to move to the door, Donnelly grasped his arm and moved with him for a few paces then stopped.

“I may also be able to help with employment, Dan. Let me have your telephone number and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Kelly thanked him and wrote the number of his hotel on a page of his notebook. He tore it out and handed it to Donnelly, taking pains not to appear ungrateful; it was indeed kind of this total stranger to consider his welfare.

As he strode towards his