Lovers and Liars (77 page)

‘Owe? Owe?’ His eyes flashed with sudden anger. ‘This is a story, not a crusade. We owe McMullen nothing. There’s plenty of time to check his death out later - next week. For God’s sake, Gini, if he’s dead, he’s dead. Going to Oxford won’t alter anything.’ ‘It might.’

‘I don’t understand you. How can you do this? Everything we’ve been working towards, everything, has been leading up to Sunday, to this damn assignation of Hawthorne’s.’ He broke off. His face hardened. ‘Oh, of course. I see. This has very little to do with McMullen and everything to do with John Hawthorne. Am I right? YesT

‘Insofar as I don’t believe those assignations ever happened, maybe. Yes. I don’t believe you’re going to see Hawthorne, or

505

any blonde woman, let alone photograph them. They won’t be there. It’s not going to happen, Pascal.’

‘How can you know thatT He rounded on her angrily. ‘Is that what you thought yesterday afternoon, when you’d talked to that call-girl? No, it wasn’t. Have you said that once before? No. So what’s made you change your mind? That bloody man Hawthorne has made you change your mind … Well, enough. I’m not going over that again. I’m not arguing either. I’m going to that house, and you’re coming with me. That’s that.’

‘No. It isn’t-!

‘How many times do I have to say this?’ He gave her a look of desperation. ‘I want you to be safe. Four people are now dead. Last night I was nearly killed. You’re not going to Oxford without me, Gini. I won’t let you do that.’

‘You can’t stop me, you know that. I’ll be perfectly safe. It’s an hour on the train to Oxford, that’s all. I just want to talk to the police there - maybe Anthony Knowles, if he’ll see me. Then I’ll come back. I’ll probably be back by early evening. I’ll come straight from the station to you. Nothing can happen before midnight, anyway - if any of this is true, that’s the deadline, midnight tonight. I’ll be back hours before then .

‘No. You know I can’t come with you. I have to go to that house. I have to set up the cameras. That takes time. I have to wait. Gini, I promise you, we’ll go to Oxford first thing on Monday if you want. You’re not going to learn anything. Why can’t it wait?’

‘It just can’t, that’s all. I feel it here.’ She pressed her hand to her chest. ‘And anyway, it makes sense. This way we cover twice as much ground. I deal with the McMullen question, you deal with Hawthorne. I’ll be back by six-‘

‘No! Let’s be very clear about this.’ He cut her off, his voice now very cold. ‘I can’t work this way. Constant arguments, foolish plans, last-minute changes. You’re right - I can’t compel you. Very well, I ask you: don’t do this.’

‘Pascal, I have to do it. I think it’s right.’

‘So, you won’t listen to me? My views, and my feelings, my concern for your safety mean nothing to youT

‘You know that’s not true . - . ‘

‘Do IT He stared at her. ‘I’m not sure I know you at all any more. First last night. Now this. I love you, Gini - and because I love you, I ask you one last time. Stay with me, the way we planned . - - ,

‘No/ Gini said. There was a long tense silence. Pascal turned away.

506

‘Very well.’ He bent, lifted the cases, and moved them to the door. ‘In that case, there’s no point in your hurrying back. Stay in Oxford as long as you like.’ There was another silence. Gini stared at him. ‘Do you mean thatT she said quietly.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Those are your termsT ‘That’s right.’

‘Fine.’ She bit her lip and forced back the tears. ‘In that case, you leave me no choice. I’ll come with you to the house, then I’m going to Oxford. I won’t be blackmailed, Pascal.’

‘How can you say that? How dare you say that? Christ .

He moved towards her, and for one moment, she thought he might hit her, or embrace her. He stopped at the edge of both these actions. They stood looking at one another, both pale, both fighting back distress.

‘Pascal/ she began, on a pleading note. She reached out her hand to him. ‘I wouldn’t do this to you. I must go. I told you it’s just a few hours. After that … ‘

‘Be quite clear. There is no after that/ he replied, and walked out.

They reached the rented St John’s Wood house at ten-thirty that Morning. Pascal had not spoken to her once on the way there in the taxi, and he did not address her once they had arrived. He went straight upstairs, tight-lipped, walking past her as if she were invisible. In the back upstairs bedroom, another temple of pink brocade, he laid the cases on the bed and began to unpack them.

Gini followed him upstairs. She wanted desperately to speak to him, but none of the words flooding in her mind seemed right. Pascal did not look up when she entered the room. She gazed at him miserably, then moved to the window. She tried to concentrate, as he did, on the realities of this task. She could see that Pascal had chosen well. From this window, the Gothic villa to which Lise Hawthorne had directed them was clearly visible.

No more than fifty feet away, across an open garden, she could see both the rear windows and the entrance to the house. The villa entrance, set to the side, consisted of a flight of five steps leading up to the pointed Gothic porch. Anyone entering or leaving the house must use that route. Pascal, true to his reputation, had chosen the perfect location for spying.

She felt Pascal move behind her. He crossed to her side, and followed her gaze. He handed her a pair of binoculars.

507

‘The magnification with the camera lens is even better,’ he said, in a polite, neutral voice, as if addressing a stranger. ‘Look.’

Gini looked. The porch and its approach steps were now startlingly close. She could make out the pattern on the steps’ iron balustrade. She altered angle, acutely aware of Pascal’s closeness, and scanned the rear of the house.

Here there were three windows, one for each of the house’s three storeys. The top-most window, dormered and set into the roof, was tiny. The window below, on what must be a bedroom floor, was larger: she could just see the outline of furniture beyond its curtains. The ground-floor window afforded the best view. It was wide, and tall, opening out onto a balcony behind, with a flight of steps to the rear garden below it. The sunlight glinted on the window-panes, but even so, she could see details beyond: a pale carpet, a large white sofa, the corner of a table, a vase of flowers.

‘Someone’s using that house anyway/ she said, in the same neutral tone Pascal had used. ‘Or they’re intending to use it. There are flowers in that room.’

He took the binoculars from her, focused them briefly on the window she indicated, then moved. She saw him scan the line of gardens, back to back, that ran between their own street and the cul-de-sac beyond. She saw him survey that turning. He lowered the binoculars, and frowned.

‘Strange … ‘ he said. ‘What’ s strangeT

‘It’s too quiet, that’s what’s strange. No cars. No people.’

‘Half the houses around here are second homes, I told you, you remember? They’re left empty for months at a time. Besides, it’s Saturday. It’s still early. People sleep in … ‘

‘On such a beautiful day? Take a look at it, Gini. It’s like a graveyard out there.’

Gini scanned the turning. Pascal moved back to his cameras. The cul-de-sac was indeed oddly deserted. No cars were parked on its street or in its driveways. No-one was passing on foot. Gini gave a small shiver. She glanced down at her watch; she would have to leave soon.

She turned away from the window. Pascal ignored her. With careful precision he was assembling camera and telephoto lens. Gini cleared her throat. ‘In daylight,’ she began, and even to her own ears, her voice sounded strained and false, ‘in daylight you’re in the perfect position. But what if he comes at night, PascalT

508

‘Well, you don’t think he’s going to put in an appearance at any point, so I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you.’

‘I’m just asking … ‘

‘If you insist. There’s no difficulty after dark. You see thisT He held up the camera. He looked through the viewfinder, and made a minute adjustment. ‘We owe a lot to the military. With this, I can see in the dark. Like a cat.’

‘Why the tnifitary?’

Pascal shrugged. His manner remained cold. ‘I don’t have time to explain. It’s too technical - you wouldn’t understand. Besides, You have a train to catch, rememberT

I’d like to understand, Pascal.’ ‘As you like. Very well.’

He knelt back on his heels. As he spoke, he loaded the camera deftly with film. ‘Much of the most recent camera technology came about through weapons research. With infrared nightsights, for instance, or a device known as an image-intensifier, a soldier armed with a rifle can now pick the enemy off from a mile away. In total darkness. He can see the man clearly. He can line him up in his sights, go for a head-shot. Before he fires, he could tell you whether the man needed a shave.’ He shrugged. ‘In daylight, of course, the range increases. Then he could probably hit him from a two-mile range, certainly a mile and a half. At night, well, a range of one mile - that’s not bad.’

‘Not bad? It’s horrible.’

‘Of course. It makes killing very clinical. You’ve heard of smart bombs? Well, there are also smart guns - and smart cameras. Here.’ He held the camera out to her. ‘You see how heavy this is? Its technology is similar to night-deployment weaponry. With this I can see in darkness as well as any army sniper … ‘ He paused. ‘And I can also film in the dark. This is loaded with specially coated film. At this distance from that villa, with the right aperture and shutter speed I can shoot thirty to thirtyfive frames in the time it takes a man to walk up those steps over there. If Hawthorne, or anyone else, walks up those steps, or into those rear rooms I’ve got him.’

‘Clearly?’ ‘Of course. When the pictures are processed, you’ll be able to see every line on Hawthorne’s face. You’ll see the expression in his eyes, the pattern on his neck-tie .

‘And the blondeT

‘The blonde too. Evidemment.’

509

Pascal looked up at her as he said this. He could see the strain in her face. She was standing there awkwardly, twisting the strap of her shoulder-bag. Her mouth looked a little swollen; he could now see faint bruise marks on her throat. He thought suddenly of their night at the Oxford hotel, of the phone call received then, and of that last ugly whispered message: Be there, Gini. Come after dark … be sure to wear the black dress.

He rose quickly to his feet, and looked at her. She met his eyes miserably. With a low cry, he caught her to him, and began to kiss her face and her hair. She clung to him tightly; her mouth opened under his. He kissed her deeply. She was beginning to cry, so he kissed her tears, then her mouth again. He began to unfasten her coat, and the desire he felt for her then was blinding. She stumbled, and he pressed her hard against him. She gave a low moan. He laid his hand over the curve of her breast; he lifted back her hair and buried his face against her throat. He said, ‘Darling, please stay .

He felt her whole body tense at once. She tried to draw back from him, then let him kiss her once more.

‘No/ she said, and reaching up, she put her fingers against his lips. She looked at him sadly. ‘No, Pascal. You won’t persuade me. Not even that way.’

There was a silence, then, with an abrupt gesture, he turned away. ‘So be it,’ he said. He bent over his camera case, took one of the cameras from it, and began to adjust the lens. His concentration on this task was intense.

‘Why,’ Gini began passionately. ‘Why can’t you agree? It could be important, you must see that.’

‘I don’t care.’ He looked up at her. ‘I’ve tried - I can’t try any longer. I love you and I’m concerned for you, but you won’t listen to me. I have a job to do here. I shall do it. That’s all. You could help me here, as I’ve tried to help you ever since I began work on this. But no, you don’t care about that. You’re wilful and impetuous and obstinate, Gini. If you’re going - go.’

‘Pascal-‘ ‘Just go, Gini.’ He rose. He looked down at the camera, and then back at her. ‘It’s over. That’s all.’

‘I don’t believe that. You wouldn’t do that. just now-2

‘Forget just now. And I would do it, don’t doubt that for one moment. I’ve cut you out of my life once, and I survived. If I have to do it a second time, I will. So choose.’

510

Gini stared at him. His face was set, and his voice was cold. She knew that Pascal never made idle claims or threats.

‘I can’t be controlled in that way. It’s wrong. You said that you loved me… ‘

‘Yes.’ HiS face contracted for an instant. ‘And I asked you once before to make a choice. In Beirut - you remember? I stood there in that terrible hotel room, with your father, after you’d lied to me, and I’d had to find that out from him, not you. I stood there, and in front of your damn father, I asked you to choose. I would have waited for you, and you knew that damn well. Two more years, that’s all - and then he wouldn’t have been able to dictate to you any more. But no. You wouldn’t agree. Fine. You chose to end it then. I choose to end it now.’

Gini gave a cry. ‘Pascal, that’s not fair. You know that’s desperately unfair. I was fifteen years old. I was scared and ashamed. My father had been arguing, for hours and hours before you came - You’d hit him, Pascal.

‘I don’t Care any more, do you understandT he said. ‘I don’t want to go back over that. I don’t want to hear arguments or excuses. Your father influenced you then. He’s influencing you now - and so, God help us, is Hawthorne. Don’t you have a mind of your own?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Gini became very still. ‘I do have a mind of my own, Pascal. And I don’t agree with you.’

‘Then you’ve chosen already.’ He gave a shrug. ‘Fine. Go.’ Gini walked across to the door.

‘My things are still at that house in Hampstead

‘Here’s a key.’ He tossed one across. It landed on the floor beside her. Gini bent and picked it up.

‘Collect them any time. I won’t be there.,

‘Why are you doing this? Why are you so hard?’

‘Why?’ His eyes flashed. ‘Because you very nearly destroyed me once, that’s why. It’s not going to happen a second time … ‘ He broke off, then continued more quietly. ‘This doesn’t work, Gini, you can see that. We’d just end up destroying each other. Who knows? Maybe it’s better this way. Neater, quicker, less painful all around.’