Next Door to Murder (20 page)

No, Rona reflected, that was the trouble. The police would be unlikely to pay attention to such vague accusations, no doubt taking the same line as Max had done. She sighed with frustration.

‘Even if we can't report him, tell your parents. They'll know what to do.'

‘What they'll do,' Louise said bitterly, ‘is go back to not allowing me out on my own.'

‘That might be no bad thing, for the moment. Please, Louise, do as I say. It's your safety that counts, not your independence.'

‘Safety?' Her voice rose again. ‘You think he might be dangerous?'

‘I don't know what to think, but I'll do my best to get to the bottom of this, I promise. In the meantime, speak to your parents about it.' She paused. ‘Did you mention Karen?'

‘No, I haven't plucked up the courage so far.'

‘I think you should. Look, I must go – I've an appointment in ten minutes. Take care, and I'll be in touch.'

She rang off, dropped her phone back into her bag, and, glancing at her watch, hurried on down the road, waiting with impatience until the traffic lights changed, and she could cross into Guild Street. Who
was
this man, and was it Louise or herself in whom he was interested? She caught herself glancing over her shoulder, and swore softly under her breath. She would
not
allow herself to feel vulnerable in her own home town.

Head high and shoulders back, she walked briskly down Guild Street to Willows' Fine Furniture.

The tour was interesting, and Giles Stanton a pleasant and knowledgeable guide, but to her annoyance, Rona's attention kept slipping. Time and again, she forced it back to what he was saying, reminding herself to ask the questions she'd prepared, and save the answers on her pocket recorder.

At her request, he pointed out items of furniture that had been supplied by Erika's family firm, Gustavsson of Örebro, several of which resembled pieces in Erika's home. The quality of the wood and attractiveness of design made them very desirable, and Rona was not surprised to see the high prices asked for them.

As Julian had requested, Stanton took her to the storerooms, where items were kept until there was space for them in the showroom, and produced order books and the latest brochures, one of which he gave her to take away.

‘Have you come across the old brochures in the archives?' he asked, and she confessed she had not.

‘Make sure you look them out. They're proof that furniture doesn't exist in a vacuum, but is a constantly changing mirror of its times – delicate, spindly chair-legs reflecting the elegance of the Regency period, for instance. And of course Art Deco swept all before it – not only furniture, but fashions, ceramics, architecture and much else.'

He glanced at her sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I didn't mean to lecture you.'

‘Please don't apologize. It's a fascinating subject, and I'd like to follow up several of the points you've made, for my own interest. May I come back some time, even after I've finished the article?'

‘Of course, I'd be delighted.' He smiled. ‘Even more delighted if you're tempted to buy some of the pieces you've seen!'

Rona laughed. ‘I'll have to sweet-talk my husband,' she said.

She decided against returning to Oak Avenue. Neither Felicity nor Julian would be there, and she doubted if she herself would get much work done, with her mind on other matters. Instead, she'd collect Gus from Max's and take him for a walk. Perhaps Furze Hill Park would work its usual magic, and clarify things for her.

Unusually, she found Max in the kitchen at Farthings, making a cup of tea.

‘I've finished the bit I'm working on,' he told her, ‘and waiting for the paint to dry. So sit down and keep me company for a while. What have you been up to today?'

‘Felicity and I had lunch at the Bacchus,' Rona began.

‘All right for some!'

‘And Dominic Frayne was there.'

‘Not, I trust, with some glamorous blonde?'

‘No, with a business colleague. I introduced him to Felicity, and she was very taken with him.'

‘One of these days I must meet this male paragon.'

‘I think you'd like him. Perhaps, when things are more settled with Linz, we could have them both to dinner.'

Max grunted. ‘
If
things become settled. Gavin said he has a reputation, remember.'

‘And I've spent the last hour or so at Willows', being instructed in the intricacies of the furniture trade.'

‘With Julian?'

‘No, the manager. It was very interesting.' She paused, gazing at the cup of tea in front of her.

After a minute, Max said, ‘Come on, then. What is it you're not telling me?'

‘I had a phone call from Louise.'

He groaned. ‘Not that again.'

‘She said she was followed this morning, when she left the house.'

‘And you believed her?'

‘Yes. What's more, her stalker sounded exactly like the man I saw on Sunday.'

Max frowned. ‘He's still hanging around, then?'

‘It would seem so.' She looked up. ‘I don't like it, Max. I've a nasty feeling about him.'

‘You've no way of knowing it's the same man. Don't tell me the pink shirt was in evidence again?'

‘No, but her description tallied pretty closely.'

‘As, if I'm not mistaken, it would with half the male population.' He put a hand on her arm. ‘All right, I admit I don't like this any more than you do; it might be wise for me to sleep at home for the time being.'

She looked up gratefully. ‘Would you, Max? I'm probably being silly, but I really think there's something behind all this.'

‘Then for God's sake don't take any chances. Keep to well-populated places, don't go out after dark, and I'll be home about ten. Now, take your trusty hound and let me get back to work.'

She leant across the table to kiss him. ‘My hero,' she said.

As she'd planned, Rona took Gus to the park, but she was careful not to isolate herself from the other dog-walkers, and kept a careful eye on those around her. Nothing untoward occurred, and it was with a sigh of relief that she put her key into the front door of number nineteen.

But, as once before, as she pushed it open, she saw a note lying on the mat. Louise? she thought, bending to pick it up and unfold it. But it was not from Louise.

If you want to hear the truth about the Franks
, she read,
phone me on –
and a mobile number followed. There was no signature.

Rona hastily closed the door and leant against it, her mouth dry, unsure, as a multitude of thoughts and questions collided in her head, whether it was the note itself or its message that worried her the most.

Eleven

M
ax said, ‘For God's sake, don't phone that number.'

‘I wasn't going to – at least, not yet. But it might at least throw some light on things. He obviously has some connection with the Franks, and he seems to know I've been asking about them. That's creepy.'

‘What gets
me
is that he knows where you live.'

‘But we knew that; I told you, he was looking in at me.'

‘You think it's the same man?'

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I certainly hope so; I shouldn't like to think there's an army of psychos roaming the streets.'

‘God, I wish I hadn't got this bloody class this evening.'

‘At least you'll be home later.'

‘But will you
promise
me not to try to contact him? At least before we've had a chance to discuss it properly?'

‘All right, I promise.'

‘And in the meantime, don't answer the door without looking through the spy-hole.'

Alarm quickened her voice. ‘You think he'll come back?'

‘God knows what he'll do. Just lock the doors and keep away from the front windows. I'll be home the minute I can get away. OK?'

‘OK,' she echoed numbly. She put the phone down, glanced across the kitchen at the window giving on to the street, and, walking over to it, pulled down the blind. The evening sunshine, scarcely diminished, seeped through it into the room.

Gus licked her hand uncertainly, and she patted him, wondering how good a guard dog he would be, if put to the test. Then she shuddered at even having to consider it. This house had always been her refuge, her bolt-hole when things got tough. Now, it felt more like a trap, and herself a sitting duck. A stranger had watched her as she'd stood on this very spot, later returning with this ambiguous message. Why? And did his connection with the Franks make their proximity in the next house another cause for concern? What, if anything, did this man know about them, that he felt he should pass on?

Rona moved back to the note on the counter and, without touching it, studied it more closely. It was written in neat capitals on lined paper torn off a pad. There was nothing whatever to suggest what kind of person had sent it.

Beside her, the phone shrilled suddenly, making her jump. For a moment she froze, then she snatched it up and waited.

‘Hello?' said an impatient voice. ‘Rona? Are you there?'

‘Oh, Linz!' Relief flooded her in an enervating wave and, clasping the phone, she moved to the table and sat down.

‘I'm ringing for a chat, really, since we didn't get much chance on Sunday. How are things?'

‘All right,' Rona said cautiously.

‘Any developments on the people next door?'

‘Not really.' Lindsey didn't know about the stranger, and at the moment Rona didn't feel up to telling her.

‘How did Louise or whatever her name is take the result of your search?'

‘She was upset, of course. I suggested she should ask her parents who Karen was, and see how they reacted.'

‘It's all very odd, isn't it?

‘Yes.' Rona seized with relief on a change of subject. ‘I saw Dominic again today,' she said. ‘He was at the Bacchus, where I had lunch.'

‘Alone?' Lindsey asked sharply, and Rona felt a surge of pity for her insecurity.

‘With a business colleague.'

‘I suppose he didn't mention me?'

‘He hardly mentioned anything. I was with Felicity, and we only paused for a second or two as we were leaving.'

‘Well, I've decided he's a lost cause, and booked myself a singles holiday to go to Italy. Perhaps I'll meet someone interesting.'

‘Good move, but I shouldn't write him off completely.'

‘Give me three good reasons why not.'

Rona tried without success to think of them, but apparently the remark was rhetorical, because Lindsey was saying, ‘Anyway, it seems I haven't lost my touch: believe it or not, I almost got picked up today! I was walking back to the office and came face to face with this guy, who nearly jumped out of his skin. Honestly, I thought he was about to have a heart attack. He started to say something, but Jonathan came up, and he shot off.'

Rona went hot and then cold. Had this man mistaken Lindsey for her? And if so, what had he tried to say? ‘What did he look like?' she asked, forcing herself to speak lightly.

‘Oh, nothing special, though admittedly I wasn't seeing him at his best. Not a patch on Dominic, but then, who is?'

‘Well, if he shows up again, ignore him. Remember, Mum told us not to speak to strange men.'

‘Sister dear, that was when we were six.'

‘All the same,' said Rona weakly, ‘there are some weird people about.'

‘So you don't think it was my outstanding beauty that affected him?'

‘I doubt it.'

Should she tell Lindsey? she agonized, but before she could reach a decision, her twin said, ‘How about lunch tomorrow? The Bacchus again? Who knows, we might see the elusive Dominic.'

So much for her professed lack of interest. ‘Yes, let's do that,' Rona said. Surely no harm could come before tomorrow lunchtime.

Harm? she repeated to herself, having rung off. Was that the way her mind was working, that this man wished her harm? Might it not be that he was concerned for her, knowing what he did about the Franks?

She'd been the first to see him, then Louise, now Lindsey. He was becoming ubiquitous. Who, in this complicated affair, were the good guys, and who the bad? She could only hope she'd find out before it was too late.

Nor, on Max's return, could he come up with any ideas, though they discussed the matter till nearly midnight.

‘I agree the police wouldn't take it seriously,' he said finally, switching off the bedside light, ‘but I think I'll have a word with Archie, and ask him to keep an unofficial lookout.'

Archie Duncan, a detective constable with the Marsborough force, was an erstwhile student of Max's, and had discreetly helped them out before.

‘That would be best,' Rona agreed sleepily, and nestled down as his arm came round her.

When Rona left for work the next morning, there'd been no further call from Louise, for which she was grateful.

Once in the archive room, she searched for, and eventually found, the old brochures Giles Stanton had mentioned, and studied them with more knowledge and interest than would have been the case before her talk with him. She also replayed the recording, making notes as she listened. Yes, she thought with satisfaction as it came to an end, she reckoned she now had enough material to write an interesting and informative article that should please both Barnie and the Willow family. Which, after all, was the point of the exercise.

Dominic was not, of course, at the Bacchus, and though Lindsey didn't mention him, Rona noticed that she looked up every time someone entered the wine bar.

‘Linz, about that man who almost accosted you,' she began, when a waiter had filled their glasses and moved away.

‘Accosted? That's rather strong!'

‘Just listen: I think I know who he is. Or at least, I don't, but I think he's the same man who's been following me.'