Wig Betrayed by Charles Courtley Page B

I have you to thank for seeing justice was done in the end. In the circumstances, I now feel the right place for my medal is the Imperial War Museum in London and I will be sending it to them accompanied by a letter explaining its history.
    Forgive me for saying this but I would prefer not to see you again. It’s not personal but I don’t want to be reminded of my former career and am somewhat of a recluse anyway these days. But I’m delighted that Beatrix and Andrea have become friendly which means that she, at least, will see more of the German community whilst you’re here...’
    Something which would continue to remain much more difficult for me because of the nature of my work, I thought wryly.

Twelve
    According to what I heard on the grapevine, the intervention of the Lord Chief Justice certainly ruffled the feathers of the army top brass who did not like being told what to do by civilians, even if they were the country’s leading lawyers. Also, a story came out in the press hinting that a senior general might resign due to governmental interference with military matters – which was hardly an apt description of what had happened.
    Then, one day I came across an intriguing entry in the news section of
The Times
:
    â€˜General Sir Clive Hudibrass, who is about to retire from the Army after quitting his last job, will shortly be taking up an appointment as an advisor to a multinational defence procurement corporation. The salary package, including bonuses, is likely to exceed £1000,000 per annum.’
    The General certainly wasn’t going to lose out financially, I thought, but most importantly he would no longer be in command of BAOR. I hoped that some semblance of normality might now return to the garrison.
    â€œNo reason why we can’t start going to mess functions again,” I observed to Andrea.
    â€œI’m not particularly bothered, frankly. Beatrix has introduced me to some of her dog walking friends and it’s more interesting getting to know the Germans as well as learning their language. Of course, I’ll go back to the Thrift Shop – Norma has already invited me to return – she’s delighted to see the end of the ghastly Lady Hudibrass as the patroness of the place.”
    â€œTime to settle down again then, until we can return to England – whenever that will be,” I said gloomily.
    Part of my contract as a new judge advocate was to go where needed most, and that had turned out to be Germany for an unspecified time which was more of a strain than I’d ever imagined.
    But there were to be new developments in our office soon, and once again I found myself back in London.
    * * *
    â€œYou haven’t met Mrs Plunt have you, Courtley?”
    Binden indicated Veejag’s wife seated on a sofa opposite his desk. She was small and although quite elderly still quite pretty. However, her finely-moulded features were blurred with distress.
    I extended my hand and said, “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”
    â€œMrs Plunt has approached me about a most sensitive matter. We thought you might be able to help,” Binden said. “Violet, would you like to tell him what you’ve told me?”
    â€œWell, it’s about my husband, you see. We were on holiday in Morocco, Marrakech actually, and one night he simply disappeared. Only when I got back did I discover that he had transferred his savings abroad.”
    â€œTell him the details, my dear.” Binden’s head wobbled. “Courtley here is much more likely to be able to assist. There’s little I can do what with one thing and another...”
    I knew what was on his mind. The investigation into my conduct had duly been abandoned after the intervention of the Lord Chief Justice and, as a result, Lady Hudibrass cut Binden dead at a Buckingham Palace garden party which had been mortifying for him.
    Mrs Plunt had begun to cry quietly into her