Brought to Book (33 page)

‘I'm only saying that's how the police mind works.' Lindsey stood up. ‘Sorry to have to leave on a note of gloom, but I'm meeting Rob at seven. Seriously, Ro, you've nothing to worry about. You're innocent, so you'll be OK. I'm a great believer in British justice.'

‘Before you go,' Max cut in, ‘could you possibly put Rona up tomorrow night? I have a reunion in London, and though I've offered to cancel it, she's insisting that I go.'

‘Sure. Glad to have her. Mum—'

‘That's all right, dear, I'll be going home this evening. It was sweet of you to have me last night, but now Tom's doing so well, I'll be better in my own bed. You two have a nice, girly evening.'

‘Doesn't Saturday night equal Rob?' Rona asked steadily.

Lindsey laughed. ‘Won't hurt him to be turned down, for once. Don't worry – I'll clear it with him this evening. Lovely to see you so much better, Pops.' She stooped to kiss him, and with an airy wave of her hand, left them to mull over the import of her words.

‘What about Gus while you're away?' Rona asked later that evening. ‘I doubt if he could make those stairs at Lindsey's – they're pretty steep.'

‘I'd be happier if he was with you,' Max commented.

Rona smiled, looking down at the sleeping dog. ‘He's not up to protection duty at the moment. Perhaps the vets would board him for the night.'

‘I'm sure they would. God, I'll be glad when all this is over and we can settle back to a normal existence. I hope this has at least persuaded you to drop that bloody book.'

‘And let him win?' she retorted. ‘I'm still under contract, and I owe it to Meriel; she only asked me to stop because she was frightened. As she had every reason to be.'

‘Rona, for God's sake, surely—'

‘I'll put it on hold,' she compromised, ‘and wait to see what the police come up with. If they find who killed Meriel, my problems should be over.'

‘Could it have been Gary?' Max asked after a minute. ‘He'd broken in before.'

She shook her head decisively. ‘I'm sure not. The first time was totally out of character, and as he destroyed the final manuscript, he wouldn't even have that faint motive. He's not in the least violent, Max, I'd stake my life on that.'

‘Not a happy choice of phrase.'

She shuddered. ‘It was easy to shrug off while it was just notes and vague threats, but I never dreamt it could go this far.'

‘I'm still not sure it has, and that we're not all jumping to conclusions; it's still possible this was simply a burglary gone wrong, someone thinking the house was empty, as you said, and panicking when Meriel walked in on him. He didn't come armed with a weapon, after all, but used the nearest thing to hand. Still, whatever the truth of it, the thing to hold on to is that so far, no one apart from the family and the police knows you were there.'

‘Rob will!' Rona said suddenly, alarm ringing in her voice. ‘Lindsey's sure to have told him. God,
why
didn't I ask her to keep it quiet?'

Max reached for her hand. ‘Even if he was the culprit – which is extremely unlikely – he'd know you didn't see him, so he'd have nothing to fear from you.'

‘He might think I saw him driving away.'

‘Shall I ask Dave to sleep with drawn sword across the threshold?'

She smiled unwillingly. ‘No, I'll be OK with Linz. God knows, though, if I'll ever be able to sleep again; every time I close my eyes, I'm back at the kitchen door, looking down at Meriel.'

‘I have some of the sleeping pills the dentist dished out after that extraction. They'll see you right.'

And, to her surprise, they did. It took a long time to drag herself up from the depths of sleep, and as she surfaced, the horrors of the previous day came flooding back. If only they could have been a nightmare, she thought despondently.

They had a leisurely breakfast, then Max drove her to Stokely police station, where she was asked to read through the statement she had made – now neatly typed – and sign it. To her relief, there appeared to be no more questions for the moment.

Nor was there any further news on the lunchtime bulletin. Rona wondered impatiently what the police were doing to hunt down the killer; surely the first twenty-four hours were crucial?

After lunch, Max went up to the studio to sort out some sketches and Rona, with a lurch of the heart, picked up the diaries he'd collected from home. These three, for '94, '95 and '97, were the crucial ones, containing details of Theo and Sheena's affair, her subsequent death – the direct cause of his two-year block – and the truth on the authorship of the last two books.

Randomly, she flicked through the pages of neat, cramped writing, interspersed with the code in which he'd concealed his deepest anguish. It seemed incredible that all these disclosures, central to everything he'd become, had come to light since their return from the cottage six short days ago. She had set out to find the truth about Theo's death, and, in the attempt, had learned of Sheena's. Now, there was a third death to concern her. Was it possible they were linked in some way?

The ringing of her mobile broke into her reflections, and she dug it out of her handbag.

‘Rona!' It was Barnie Trent. ‘We've been worried about you! Wasn't the woman who was killed the one you were working with on her husband's bio?'

‘That's right, yes.'

‘Nothing to do with the book, I trust?'

‘I don't know, Barnie.'

‘Well, for God's sake be careful! If I were you, I'd drop it like a hot brick!'

‘I'm under contract until I hear otherwise,' she answered wearily.

‘Your life's more important than any bloody contract. I'm surprised Max hasn't put his foot down.'

‘We've hardly had time to take it in,' Rona defended him.

She heard Barnie inhale. ‘Sorry, I'm sounding off as usual, as Dinah is pointing out. I appreciate it's none of our business, but we're fond of you and don't like to think of you taking risks.'

‘It's sweet of you both to worry, but I'm fine, honestly. Thanks for ringing.'

‘We must fix another supper soon.'

‘Love to, but you come to us.'

She rang off, wondering how they'd feel when they learned, as they surely would, that she'd been in the house at the time of the murder, and hoping they'd understand it was self-preservation that had kept her silent. Resignedly, she rang her voice mail and listened to similar anxious queries from both her agent and editor. Time enough to contact them on Monday; by then, she might have a clearer idea of what to say.

Tired of her sombre thoughts, she went up the open staircase to the studio. Max turned as her head and shoulders appeared above the stairwell.

‘Who was on the phone?'

‘Barnie; they'd heard about Meriel.'

‘There'll probably be a lot of similar calls over the weekend, as people cotton on to your link with her. I should switch off the mobile and let them leave messages. They won't track you down at Lindsey's.'

Rona walked to the window and leaned on the sill, looking down into the sunny street. The drop seemed negligible compared with her study window at home. On the opposite pavement, a little boy was cautiously trying out his two-wheeler under the watchful eye of his father, amid shrieks of encouragement and derision from his elder brother.

‘What time's your train?' she asked without turning.

‘Three thirty. I'd better stop this and get my bag packed. It's a pain having to take a DJ on such a short trip.'

‘When will you be back?'

‘Around lunchtime, I should think. It'll be a boozy do, so no doubt I'll sleep late. I'll buzz you at Lindsey's when I get to Thames Link.' He paused. ‘Will you be going straight there after dropping me at the station?'

‘No, I'll go and see Pops first.'

‘Well, if you're not coming back here, we'll take Gus to Bob before we leave.' Another pause. ‘You're quite sure you don't mind my going? I could still ring up and cancel, you know.'

‘Of course you must go. Let your hair down and forget all about this mess till you get back.'

‘How about coming with me? If joining a party of rowdy artists doesn't appeal, you could go to the flicks or a show.'

‘Stop worrying, love. I'll be fine.'

‘Well, don't say I didn't offer.' And he went clattering down the stairs to the bedroom. Outside, there was a crash, a shocked silence, and then an outbreak of yells. She glanced down and saw the bicycle lying on its side and the child being comforted by his father. Lessons in life start early, she mused, and with that philosophical thought, followed Max down the stairs.

Lindsey was already at the hospital when Rona arrived, but it had been arranged that, to stagger visits, Avril would look in during the evening.

‘I was just telling Pops that Hugh's been on the phone,' Lindsey said. ‘All up to high doh about the murder, though why he should think it involves me, I don't know.' She glanced at Rona. ‘Sorry about yesterday, Ro. I was hardly reassuring, was I?'

‘Hardly,' Rona agreed dryly.

‘No one with half a brain could think you had anything to do with it. What happened this morning?'

‘I just signed the statement and left.'

‘There you are, then.' She sounded relieved.

‘How's Gus?' Tom asked, tactfully changing the subject. ‘I didn't know he'd been ill till Lindsey mentioned it.'

Rona, glancing at her twin, caught the almost imperceptible shake of her head, and gathered that poison had not been mentioned.

‘Much better, thanks. Not up to Lindsey's stairs, though, so he's over-nighting at the vet's. He'll be as right as rain in a few days – just like you!'

‘Too right; I've been out of bed today.'

‘Playing deck quoits?'

‘As good as. Walking to the bathroom, at any rate.'

A trolley was wheeled down the ward, from which tea and biscuits were dispensed to patients and visitors alike. The ward was busy this Saturday afternoon; several families had come en masse to visit relatives, and the level of noise was such that Rona hoped no one on the ward was seriously ill.

By the time they'd had their tea, people were starting to leave and Tom was looking tired.

‘I think we should make a move, too,' Rona said, ‘and let you regain your strength before Mum arrives.'

‘Thanks for coming,' Tom told them. ‘I've seen more of my daughters in the last few days than I have in months.'

‘Why are you in Max's car?' Lindsey asked as they separated in the car park.

‘Mine's in dock. It won't be ready till next week.'

They arranged to meet at the out-of-town Sainsbury's on the way back, and consequently by the time they reached the flat the sun was low in the sky and a cool breeze had sprung up.

‘Not quite spring after all,' Lindsey commented, as Rona helped her unload the boot. ‘Never mind, there's a good, warming supper waiting – corned beef hotpot. Remember, it was the first thing we ever cooked?'

‘And probably the last, as far as I'm concerned,' Rona rejoined.

‘I made it in advance, so it only needs warming up. I got a couple of videos in, too, since there's nothing on the box. They're over there, if you'd like to look at them.'

‘Did Rob mind not seeing you this evening?' Rona asked, as she unpacked the groceries on to the kitchen table.

‘No, he quite understood when I explained Max was away. He was staggered to hear about Meriel, though – really shocked.'

Was he indeed? Rona thought caustically. ‘Did you – say I'd been there?'

Lindsey turned to look at her. ‘Well, of course I did. That's what made it all so personal.'

Rona's heart started a dull thudding at the base of her throat. ‘I thought we were trying not to advertise the fact,' she said mildly.

‘Telling Rob is hardly advertising it.' Lindsey took the hotpot out of the fridge and put it in the oven. ‘OK if we eat early? I skipped lunch today.'

Rona, who had eaten virtually nothing since breakfast the previous day, nodded.

‘What'll happen about the book now?' Lindsey asked curiously.

‘I intend to go on with it.'

Her twin stared at her. ‘Are you out of your mind?'

‘No, but I'll be out of pocket if I abandon it. Relax, Linz; the police will soon catch up with whoever it was, and then there's nothing to stop me. There'll be a scoop or two in it, I can promise you.'

‘And Meriel's death won't hurt, either, commercially speaking.'

Rona shook her head violently. ‘That's – sick, Lindsey. God, if you'd seen her—'

‘Agreed, it was in bad taste. Forget I said it. I think we could both do with a drink.'

Rona watched her prepare them, wishing disloyally that she was at home with Max, where she didn't have to monitor everything she said. Here, there were so many subjects she mustn't mention: her suspicions of Rob, the truth about Theo's books, his affair. It was a new experience, having secrets from Lindsey, and she hated it.

As she took her glass, her mobile rang. ‘Blast!' she exclaimed. ‘I meant to turn it off!'

‘Don't answer it, then,' Lindsey said calmly. ‘It might be the press.'

The ringing stopped as voice mail took over.

The caller was Justin Grant, his voice staccato and out of breath. Here was someone who really would mourn Meriel, Rona thought. He sounded desperate to speak to her, wanting to know exactly what had happened, but Lindsey took the phone from her and switched it off.

‘Who is he, anyway?'

‘Meriel's cousin. He wasn't too keen on the bio in the first place.'

‘Let him cool his heels; you're entitled to a bit of peace on a Saturday evening, specially after what you've been through. How did he get hold of your number?'