Chapter Two -

Grand Trunk Railway Station Kingston Ontario

To whom it may concern

He saw her walking along the road even before she spotted him. She was moving along quickly in a black and white checked coat, her shoulders hunched forward, looking from side to side and occasionally looking back the way she’d come.

He had been sitting at his desk in the Casualty office in The Armouries. The door swung open and she entered.

Life for a returned injured officer in Kingston was anything but interesting. He had followed Hughes to England and trained near Hythe in Kent. His men had matured as they chaffed to get “over seas” and into France. He remembered the trip the battalion took, tossing about in the St Seiriol and the long march to Boulogne to their first billet. That was the easy part.

Sharp had seen fighting, seen men blown to pieces and, eventually suffered his own wounding. More than that however had been the great weight of guilt that followed sending men over the top and watching them shredded by shrapnel, gassed and shell shocked into madness. Obtaining permission to recuperate at home, he paid for his own way back to Kingston in 1917. He was appointed Casualty Officer of Military District Number Three in Nov 1917 with the rank of Major.

She hesitated, saw a sergeant at the desk, and walked quickly over to him.

“Sergeant”, she said, “I want to see the officer in charge” Sergeant Watkins looked over his shoulder toward Sharpe, who nodded.

“Right this way, Madam”, said Watkins and limped ahead of her to Sharpe’s door.

She closed the door and said “You are going to think this is absolutely crazy”. She again checked to see they could not be overheard. “I think I’m being followed and I saw The Armouries and ….”

Reddish hair was wound in a knot at the nape of her neck. Her face, with its fair, slightly translucent skin, was framed by a wide brimmed summer straw. Dressed neatly, but not expensively, in clothing that obviously had come from Eaton’s catalogue, she presented a most charming picture. Looking Sharp intently in the face, she said “Can you help me? Will you help me?”

Sharp duties involved routing casualties to hospitals in Canada as they returned to the Dominion and helping them apply for pensions and benefits. He told her this but something about the way she spoke kept him from quickly dismissing her. Sharp had dealt with all sorts of men in his years with the 59th and 21st . This needed more than a simple refusal.

“Miss”, he said, “You are going to have to tell me more. I can’t be of any use to you if you can’t tell me why you need my help”

She paused for a minute, examining his face and then reached into her handbag and produced a letter in a brown paper envelope. He slipped the letter out of the envelope, adjusted his pinz nez and read the following:

To whom it may concern:


The bearer of this letter is to be afforded all assistance, without question as the bearer is a special constable of The Dominion Police..

The letter was signed R. Borden, Prime Minister The Dominion of Canada.

Sharp had been a civil servant in Ottawa before the war. He knew the Prime Minister’s signature.

“Do you have something else?”

She reached into her bag and withdrew a pocket novel. Peeling paper on the inside of the cover back ,she extracted a thin metal card. She handed it to Sharp who examined it.

“Can you assist me?, she asked, again. “Will you help me?

I must get out of Kingston as quickly as possible. They are watching me.”



As she drew nearer, Sharp saw her there was no suit case, nothing but a small bag. She said “Did everything go as planned?”

Sharp exhaled and said, “Jesse had guests. I told her I was going to The Armouries to the Officers Mess. I took the money from petty cash as you instructed. With what you have, we should be OK. I think the bundle of clothes I left at the pond will slow them down for a few days, so we should get clear of Canada, before they realize I’m not in the river. What Jesse will do, I really hate to imagine. She’s pretty springy though. I’ve not been good to live with since I got back from overseas, headaches, liver problems.” He stopped and sighed again.

“How did you manage the clothes?”

“I took them out the back door with me when I left.”

She looked into his face and said “I think we should be alright then, for a few days before they figure it out”

“Well, we have about half an hour to get to the station, so I suggest we get started”

Sharp reached to take the carpet bag from her, but she swung it away from him, but then said pleasantly, “I can manage, thanks”

He looked at her and then said “By the way, I’ve brought this with me.” He held open his coat and she could see the butt of a small 7.65 mm Mauser pistol under his arm.

Her eyes sprang wide and she exclaimed “Where did you get that?

“Off a dead Bosch”

“This is terrible. Someone could be hurt or killed? I didn’t want that.”

“The way you were acting I thought…”

“Well, we can’t leave it here for a child to find.” She stalked away. Sharp meekly followed.

They plodded along the tracks, stepping unevenly on every second tie. Sharp saw the water tower and then the freight sheds and station.

She turned and said “You would be recognized at the station, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe” Sharp said.

“You better let me buy the tickets and then you can just get on the train and find me”

Sharp sat near the water tower to the west of the station and waited. He saw people assembling to catch the train, mostly business men and government officials headed for Montreal and Ottawa. He packed his pipe with tobacco and drew in the fragrant smoke.

If they were caught by authorities, there was always the letter to justify their actions. He grinned. He was beginning to feel useful again.

He thought about his great grand father Richard, who had come up through the ranks of Wellington’s army to become a Colonel, he thought of Richard’s son, Patrick who served the Queen in the Crimea. There had been a lot of Sharps in service to the Crown. His side wasn’t hurting anymore. Maybe this was to be his chance.

The train was on time. He saw her enter the third car from the rear and waited until the station master turned away to signal the engineer. Sharp ran the short distance to the train and sprang up the steps on the end of the last car. The locomotive gave two short blasts of its whistle and eased away. He was committed.