Lovers and Liars (37 page)

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Authors: Sally Beauman

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Lovers and Liars
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‘I do not make instant decisions.’

‘Yes, vou do. How about Lise? You took one look and instantly itulaied. Suddenly Lise is this poor frightened creature in need protection. We don’t know that, Pascal. Lise could have made this whole thing. So could McMullen, for that matter. It could one long lie from beginning to end.’

‘You think I don’t know that? Why do you think I was talking Lb the stupid woman for so long? Why was I listening to her so

6refu I ly? You think I actually enjoyed it - hours of horoscope nonlense, I I t t le lectures on Fate? Dear God, don’t you know me at all?’ ‘You didn’t look bored, Pascal.’

!4 ‘Will vou stop this and listen?’ He moved suddenly and took kuld of ,her arm.

‘No. I will not. I saw you, Pascal. I’ve never seen you behave

6t way in my life. 1-!

!L_ She broke off. Pascal was now very close to her. He was looking Obwn into her face.

&,: ‘There’s more you want to say, perhaps, Gini? Other things you *ant to add? Or are you going to be quiet, and listenT

‘No. I’m not. And I have plenty more to say.’

Pascal gave a sigh. ‘Oh, very well.’ he said. ‘Then we’ll do it Ihis way. I’ll make you be quiet.’

249

Then he kissed her. He moved so quickly that he took her by surprise. He caught her roughly against him, and kissed her mouth hard.

‘Now/ he said, stepping back from her, ‘you will listen to what I have to say, and you won’t interrupt until I’ve finished. First, Lise Hawthorne was under strain, she was jumpy, odd - maybe even on pills of some kind. Second, there must be a major security alert, because that house was crawling with security men. There were two back-up cars outside, and two men on foot. Inside, there was that Malone man in the hall, and another man positioned at the far side of the drawing-room by the other door. That’s very unusual, in fact it’s something I’ve never seen at a private party. Third, Lise Hawthorne was worried by the man in the room, and the man in the hall. She kept glancing across at them, and then at her husband. It was as if she felt watched. Four, she was watched, certainly by Hawthorne. Most of the time you were talking to him, you had your back to us. But he kept his eye on us, the entire time. All of which, Gini, all of which makes it all the more remarkable what she did, when she read my palm and that damn husband of hers finally turned away. She gave me this, Gini, look.

He held out to her in the lamplight a tiny piece of paper, no more than an inch square.

‘Now/ he said, ‘do you understand why this apparently stupid woman reads my palm? It was very well done, Gini. I noticed nothing until I felt the paper in my hand. It was done in a second. So. Shall we see whyT

Pascal drew her closer to the streetlight. He unfolded the tiny scrap of paper, and smoothed it flat. On it, typed, was the word Sunday, and beneath it an address.

There was a small silence. Gini shivered.

‘McMullen failed to provide next Sunday’s assignation address,’ Pascal said. ‘So she did. At some risk.’

Gini was looking closely at the address. ‘One thing you should know,’ she said. ‘This address is five minutes from Regent’s Park. Five minutes from the US Ambassador’s residence, Pascal, from John Hawthorne’s house. We can pass it on the way home.’

They drove north, skirted Regent’s Park, and turned into Avenue Road. Large houses lined the street on either side of them. ‘Some neighbourhood,’ Pascal said, without enthusiasm. It reminded him of Helen’s house, of her neighbourhood.

250

I A rich neighbourhood/ Gini corrected him. ‘A nouveau riche . bourhood. Especially this part here.’

They passed some large white-stucco Victorian villas, intersed with oversized brick palaces of more recent date. Most security lighting; almost all had ground-floor windows which barred.

Teople buy them for investment, I think,’ Gini said. ‘Half them are empty except for staff. That’s a well-known ate abortion clinic - I interviewed its director once. I think the next turning on the right . She slowed. ‘Damn. It’s cul-de-sac.’

‘Never mind. Turn in, drive to the end, circle and go out

There were six houses on the street, three on each side. The one which Lise had directed them was at the far end, and was the y period house. They glimpsed white stucco, a curious Gothic

set to the side. The rest of the building was hidden behind laurel hedges. It was unlit, as were the rest of the houses. from one streetlamp, the turning was dark.

pulled back out into the main road. They drove north back Islington, saying little. In her flat, Pascal made up the sofa silence, and in silence began to pack his bag. Gini watched

“Venice tomorrow/ she said.

es. The flight leaves at nine. We’ll have to leave here around en. You’d better get some sleep.’

Terhaps we’ll find McMullen/ she said. ‘Perhaps he’ll ex.… I

‘Waybe.’ Pascal straightened. He looked around the room, and n back at her. ‘Not here/ he said.

Gini looked around her room, which might or might not be safe. wanted to ask Pascal why he had kissed her, and whether he felt as she had felt when he did, but she did not want to ask t question in a room with listening walls.

 

She thought she could see the answer in his face, and in the lute way he continued his packing, but she could not be At the door of her bedroom, she hesitated. Pascal stopped ng, straightened, and looked at her. The silence was very uent.

“Was it just to silence meT she said finally.

.,‘No.’ He smiled. ‘I’d been considering it for some time. Depuis edi, tu sais. Depuis douze ans .

251

He returned to his packing. She went into her bedroom and closed the door.

Those two phrases sang in the air. She liked the grammar, the French construction; they made the words echo and re-echo. Since Wednesday, she thought. A translation. Since twelve years.

252
Will

FLIGHT was delayed. Pascal and Gini stood in line. There few passengers for Venice. Most of the other travellers were ing for the ski-slopes. A calm, bored voice kept up a constant in on the Tannoy: Due to the current international situation, ional security measures are i.n operation. Please do not leave bags un-

. Please be patient and co-operate with security personnel …

r luggage was hand-searched twice. Pascal’s cameras were examined. Gini’s tape recorder was opened, the tape checked, replaced.

r plane was halfempty. Pascal, who had kept a close eye the other passengers in the departure lounge, ensured they given seats well separated from the others. They had two rows behind them, and two in front.

ere,’, he said, as the plane took off. ‘It’s the best I can It’s not one hundred per cent, but at least we’re not easily eard.’

ou think we’ll be followedT

scal shrugged. ‘Its possible. I feel followed, and listened to, the time. But no doubt that’s partly paranoia, as you say. I’ve n some precautions. We won’t go to the hotel I booked us .- we’ll go to another I know. A small, quiet place.’ He paused e the stewardess brought copies of the newspapers.

253

‘One thing/ he said, when she had gone. ‘If McMullen did leave England for Italy, he timed it very well. Another couple of weeks and they’d have been checking all passports very carefully.’

‘They checked yours for long enough,’ Gini said. ‘Too many Middle East visas, they don’t like that.’

‘Look at this.’ She held out the copy of The Sunday Times. ‘More anti-US demonstrations. In Syria. And in Iran.’

‘It’s spreading, and it’s intensifying. That was inevitable.’ Pascal shrugged. ‘Look.’ He turned the pages of his own newspaper, pointed to one item. ‘Yesterday there was a bomb outside the US embassy in Paris, did you see thaff

‘Yes. I did. I suppose it could explain why Lise Hawthorne was so nervous. Mary did say that Lise worried about her husband’s safety.’

Pascal frowned and turned away to the window. ‘No/ he said, ‘it was something else, something more.’

‘She could be worrying about McMullen,’ Gini said. ‘That’s the most obvious deduction, surely? After all, McMullen seems to have been her one confidant. She was depending on his help and support. It’s well over two weeks since McMullen disappeared.’ ‘Twenty days. It’s twenty days.’

‘Suppose she hasn’t heard from him in that time, either. Suppose she doesn’t know where he is - even if he’s dead or alive. And meanwhile, there’s another of those Sundays, coming closer and closer. The next is just one week away.’ She glanced towards him. ‘Absence, Pascal. Uncertainty. Just those factors alone would explain it. She’s anxious, and she’s afraid for him.’

‘If they aren’t in contact.’ He frowned. ‘Maybe. Except I can’t believe McMullen wouldn’t contact her. You heard him on that tape. “I’d cross the world to spend five minutes at your side.” He’d move heaven and earth to remain in touch, to reassure her. You could hear it in his voice.’

He looked at her as he said this, hesitated, then looked away. The plane banked, then gained height. Beyond the window there was dense cloud, then brilliant light.

‘Anyway.’ He folded up the newspapers and put them away. His manner became businesslike. ‘Let’s concentrate. In two hours or so we’ll be at this Palazzo Ossorio - we could be actually talking to the man. We’d better prepare ourselves. Do you have that picture Jenkins gave usT

Gini produced the photograph and they examined it together. McMullen’s army days: he was wearing camouflage combat dress;

254

Parachute Regiment badge was just visible on his beret. He turned to look at the camera, and the details of his face slightly blurred. A man of average height, with fair hair handsome but unremarkable features. He was wearing a t ring; it could just be glimpsed on the small finger of his

hand. On the back of the photograph, it said: Wiesbaden, West ny — NATO exercise 1988.

ni gave a sigh. ‘It doesn’t tell us very much/ she said. ‘Still, should it? Photographs rarely do.’

scal smiled. ‘I hope you don’t mean that .

don’t mean your kind of photographs - you know that pery well. But this is just a snapshot. It tells us very little, it seems me.’

‘Put it together with other information and it tells us more.’ I paused. ‘First of all, what does he look like? He’ll be his forties now. Good-looking, a little unmemorable, wear—

a signet ring. You remember those suits and shirts in his rtment? A conventional Englishman, yes? Exactly what you’d ct from a man of his background and class. An officer and a fleman, all set to be a general eventually, that’s what his very onventional sister said to me.’

Fl` Except lie left the ArmyT

‘Indeed. But there’s more. The choice of regiment, for instance. n

Paras? Might you not expect such a man - ex-public school, _0

xford, Sword of Honour at Sandhurst - to choose a more ventional, a more Mitist regiment, like the GuardsT

v .,M ‘Maybe. Maybe. I’m not too up on the British army-‘

V 11, take rny word for it. It’s an unusual choice. Not without L

ent, obviously, but unusual just the same. And when I CL

rted checking out the man-2 ‘Oth

er unusual elements?’

‘Sure. First, his Oxford career. You remember what Jenkins told P? Well, lie was right. McMullen went to Christ Church, to read Oodern I listory, in 1968. He was a high-flyer, Gini - and yet, what happens? He never takes his degree. He leaves, after only pe year.’

P’You checked with the collegeT

1L. ‘Sure.’

p,‘Did they give a reason? Was he ill? Was he sent down pellecl?’

‘If an%, of these factors applied, they weren’t about to tell me.’ Lscal t’ook the photograph. He looked at it closely, then put it

255

down. ‘What’s more/ he continued, ‘when you look into his army career, it’s the same pattern. There’s a gap of three years after Oxford. He joins the Army in 1972. He seems destined for higher things, just the way his sister said and then what happens? He reaches the rank of captain only, which is average promotion for his age and length of service. Then, in 1989, he suddenly resigns his commission. He leaves.’

Gini frowned thoughtfully. ‘Four years ago. That’s interesting. A period of time that comes up elsewhere in this story. Four years ago, Hawthorne’s younger son is seriously ill. As a result of that, Hawthorne then abandons his career in politics. Four years ago, if you can believe the Washington tittle-tattle, which you probably can’t, Lise Hawthorne becomes ill and as a result her marriage is under strain. Four years. Could there be a connection?’

‘It’s possible. I wish I knew exactly when he and Lise first met, how they met and where. The sister could have told me, obviously, but you know what happened there.’

‘Did none of the friends know anything?’

‘Nothing. They were useless. Obviously not in close touch with him. But then his sister said he was becoming a recluse. One man had last seen him in August last year. They went grouse shooting together in Yorkshire. He described McMullen as a good chap … Hopeless. I mentioned Lise Hawthorne, and none of them reacted. They all said the same: well, I could always try her, if I was really anxious to get hold of him, but they’d never heard him mention her name.’

‘What about the other friend? The one his sister mentionedT ‘Jeremy Prior-Kent? He’s out of town. He makes TV commercials. He’s due back in London on Monday or Tuesday. We can try him then, but I’m not optimistic.

‘What about people he worked with in the City? Jenkins said he was in the City, after he left the Army.’

‘I tried them all.’ Pascal shrugged. ‘And they were useless too. His last job was with a firm of stockbrokers, arranged through a friend of his father’s. It wasn’t a senior post, and it didn’t pan out. He resigned suddenly, in January last year. He hasn’t worked since then, nor does he need to, if you can believe his sister’s account.’

‘January. A year ago.’ Gini glanced at him. ‘That’s another coincidence, Pascal. It was around then that Hawthorne was appointed ambassador. McMullen left his job just as Lise came to London. You think there’s a link?’

256

11 suppose it’s possible.’ Pascal was beginning to look disheart’I’m getting damn sick of suppositions. I just wish we had more acts.

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