Page 129 of Crocodile Tears

“It seems like the two of you became close over the past few days.”

“I like her.” He glared at Peter’s smug face. “Don’t smirk. You haven’t won the battle, or even the bloody argument.”

“Haven’t I?” Peter laughed.

Josiah gazed out of the window. “You mentioned associates. Who else is involved in the… what do you call it? Underground railroad? Escape network?” he asked suddenly.

“The Kathleen Line,” Peter said.

“What?”

“Well, we can’t call it something obvious in case we’re overheard, so I came up with that as a sort of codename. My grandmother’s name was Kathleen, and I added ‘line’ as a sort of nod to the underground railroad idea.”

“So, how does it work? You can’t be running it alone.”

“No…” Peter hesitated.

“You can trust me.”

“I know. I’m just not used to talking about it. You’re right – I havehelp, both back in Britain and here, in Europe. Several volunteers – all coordinated by a dear old friend called Elsie.”

“Elsie?” He felt a twinge of jealousy.

“Yeah – she and my grandmother were friends – Elsie was like an auntie to me growing up.”

“Ah. Okay.” The jealousy receded.

“She arranges the transport out of the UK, one of my associates brings them to a rendezvous in Europe, and I smuggle them on to LKG, which is relatively safe compared to most places – at least they stand a decent chance there.”

“How on earth did something like this start?”

“With my grandmother.” Peter gave a fond smile. “She was such an amazing woman – super strong and feisty. Brought me up single-handedly and held down a full-time job at a time when she should have been slowing down. She had this nice cleaning lady who was an IS employed by an agency. Gran talked to this woman every week when she came to clean, and found out she was being abused by her houders – she was always covered in bruises. Gran reported it, but nothing happened.” He paused, shaking his head sadly.

“One day, this woman ran away. She turned up on our doorstep a few weeks later, starving and half dead, begging for our help. I was just a teenager at the time, but Gran always included me in everything. Elsie was Gran’s oldest friend – they were both nurses at a top-security mental hospital, if you can believe that. Elsie got involved because she knew someone who worked at the port in Dover, and we came up with a plan. It was exciting. I loved it.”

“You would,” Josiah snorted.

“We got that poor woman to safety. After that, word got around, and Gran and Elsie started receiving calls. It all took off from there.”

“You must have moved a lot of people out in that time.”

“I suppose so. I haven’t kept count.”

Josiah gently touched his captain’s thigh. “You’re a good man, Peter Hunt,” he said softly.

Peter shot him a smile that made his heart flip.

“You too, Josiah Raine,” he said. “You too.”

Josiah’s ribs were bruised from the scav fight, and he ached all over,so he was glad of the chance to hunker down in the jeep and sleep while Peter drove. He woke up to find they’d stopped in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere.

“Where the hell are we?” he asked blearily.

Peter pointed at a sign on the side of the road. “It’s not exactly on our way, but we were close, so I thought we might as well drop by for a visit.”

The sign was battered, full of bullet holes and covered in dirt, but Josiah could still make out the single word written on it: Rosengarten.

Josiah jolted out of the memory. He didn’t want to think about Rosengarten right now. Besides, they were nearly at Dacre’s house, and it was time to concentrate.

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