Sisters of Mercy (18 page)

‘
Er — thank you …’

‘
And you, Sister Farewell.’

I
silently handed him my glass and he went off.

Miss
Whittington lowered her voice. ‘I must say, Sister, he’s not like any government official I’ve come across before.’

‘
No.’

‘
If I’d known he was going to be so prying, so irritating, I’d never have given permission for him to come.’

‘
No.’

‘
Perhaps I could have him withdrawn. What do you think?’

‘
Well — er — you couldn’t do that until Monday, and —’

‘
That’s another odd thing, isn’t it? Who ever heard of a government official working over a weekend?’

‘
He does seem to be over-zealous, but I do have to say,’ I gabbled, ‘that although I agree with you about his approach, he hasn’t actually caused me any problems as such yet …’

‘
You think not? Well, I have to say —’

She
was prevented from doing this by his return.

‘
Thank you, Mr Jones,’ she said as she took the wine glass from him.

‘
You’re very welcome. You were saying about my technique?’ he prompted.

‘
Yes.’ She took a mouthful of wine. ‘To be perfectly frank, I think some of my colleagues might not have cared for your … rather robust manner of questioning them.’

‘
Oh dear. I have been told I sometimes have an unfortunate manner. The trouble is, Miss Whittington,’ he confided, ‘that we in the DOH sometimes feel that we can’t win. We’re accused of being out of touch with the real world, but when we make an honest attempt to get in touch with it, we’re accused of interference, or worse.’ He looked quite hurt.

She
smiled tightly. ‘That may be so, Mr Jones, but I think you know perfectly well what I mean.’

‘
Miss Whittington, you have my assurance that I will try to be more … circumspect for the rest of my visit.’

‘
How long
are
you intending to stay with us?’

‘
I can’t be sure exactly,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’

‘
Please do. And I hope you will be more circumspect.’

‘
You have my assurance on that.’

‘
So you said.’ She drained her glass. ‘I think I’ll bid you both good night.’

‘
She’s not as daft as she appears,’ he said, as soon as she was out of earshot.

‘
Which is more than can be said for you,’ I hissed furiously. ‘A lot of people are going to be wondering about you after this evening’s performance — one minute playing the silly ass, then flashes of perception, then trying to shock people by being rude to them. You know Miss Whittington wanted to give you your marching orders, don’t you?’

‘
But she didn’t, did she?’

‘
Only because I intervened on your behalf — told her you weren’t a problem to me — may God forgive me for such a lie.’ I took a breath. ‘There isn’t a single person here you haven’t offended in some way or another tonight. Why? If any of these people are involved, which I very much doubt, they’ll be on to you by now. Is that what you wanted?’

‘
You’re raising your voice. Calm down.’

I
looked around. The crowd was thinning, but Dr Cannock was still there, talking with the sponsors. Standing a little apart were Stephen and Miss Shenstone. She shot us a glance as Stephen said something to her.

I
said, calmly, ‘I simply can’t understand you.’

He
said, ‘We’ll talk about it when we get back to your house, shall we?’

‘
Oh. You do feel ready to go, then?’

‘
Yes, I think so.’

I
tried to swallow my irritation. ‘Do we need to stagger our departures?’

‘
I suppose we’d better. Give me a minute or two, then follow.’ He handed me his wine glass and turned to go.

I
slowly took the glasses back to a table. There were few people left now and I was on the point of leaving myself when I saw Stephen walking rapidly towards me.

‘
Jo, wait …’

I
couldn’t really ignore him without it looking odd.

‘
Yes?’

‘
I was trying to ask you earlier … what did happen about the man who threatened you?’

‘
Oh, it was nothing, like you said. A storm in a teacup.’ I started walking towards the door.

‘
So he didn’t bother you any more?’ He walked beside me.

‘
No.’

‘
I’m glad about that. It’s just that I don’t seem to have had a chance to speak to you lately.’

Ha
!

‘
We’ve all been busy.’ I kept walking.

‘
Yes. That chap Jones who was with you, has he gone?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
Seems an odd sort of cove.’ It was said casually, but when I looked at him, he was studying my face.

‘
I suppose he is, rather.’

‘
Jo, I was wondering …’

‘
If you don’t mind, Stephen, I’d really like to go home. I’m exhausted.’

‘
OK, Jo ...’ He fell behind me.

As
I walked to my car, I wondered whether I’d done the right thing … perhaps if I’d allowed myself to be persuaded a little more …

No.

To my surprise, Jones was waiting for me in his car. He raised a hand when he saw me and started driving off.

I
got into my own car and followed him out. Wiped the screen with my hand and switched on the demisters, hoping they’d warm up soon.

No,
Stephen would have to show a lot more contrition; work a lot harder than that before …

The
road from the hospital rises gently for about a quarter of a mile and then dips again just before the junction with the main road.

Jones
stopped as the lights changed and I pulled up behind him. At least, I would have done, had my brakes been working. I pumped the pedal frantically, then remembered the hand brake — too late, though, to prevent my car from ploughing, in slow motion, into the back of the Cooper.

16

The shunt pushed his car, also in slow motion, about five yards into the traffic pulling away from the lights. Cars braked, swerved, hooted.

He
jumped out, ran back and yanked open my door.

‘
What the hell are you playing at, Jo?’

‘
My brakes failed,’ I said numbly.

‘
All right,’ he said after a moment. ‘We’ll have to move the cars. Can you move yours?’ His voice came from far away. ‘Are you all right?’

‘
I don’t know.’

‘
Better let me do it.’

I
extricated myself from the seat, my body not belonging to me. He started the engine and drew back on to the grass verge, then jumped out to move his own car behind it. Then he guided me into the passenger seat.

‘
Better?’

‘
No.’ I drew heavily on a cigarette I couldn’t remember lighting.

‘
Can you tell me what happened?’

‘
Nothing
bloody happened, that was the trouble.’

‘
No response to the brakes at all?’

‘
No.’

He
reached across me, opened the glove compartment and took out a torch.

‘
Wait here; I won’t be long.’

Where
did he think I was going? I wondered, and began to shiver, just a little at first, then violently.

He
came back. ‘Somebody’s cut through the brake pipes,’ he said.

‘
Who?’ My lips framed the word.

‘
Sutton,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It’s time he was put to rights.’

‘
Now?’

‘
Oh, yes.’ Then, noticing for the first time the tremor in my voice: ‘Are you cold?’

‘
I’m bloody terrified.’

He
opened the glove compartment again. ‘You won’t be doing any more driving tonight, so have some of this.’ He handed me a small flask. ‘Not too much. I’m going to check my lights.’

It
was whisky. I took a hefty swallow, then another. Heard him tinkering at the back of the car. Felt slightly better.

He
reappeared with a screwdriver, took one of the back lights off my car and disappeared again. More tinkering.

‘
Any better?’ he said, climbing back in.

‘
A bit. Thanks.’

‘
I had to take one of your lights, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

I
didn’t reply.

He
started the engine and backed on to the road. Without thinking, I reached for the seat belt.

‘
Where are we going?’ I asked when I realized it wasn’t to my house.

‘
Sutton.’

Panic
gripped me. ‘We can’t! He’ll kill us …’

‘
No, he won’t.’

‘
Why can’t we go to the police?’

‘
Because I can do this better,’ he said, and I realized he was in a cold fury.

‘
Not me. Stop the car!’ It came out as a squeak.

‘
When we get there. I’ll need your help, Jo.’

I
looked at him, appalled.

‘
What are you going to do?’

‘
Like I said, put him to rights.’ He glanced at me. ‘Don’t worry. He won’t do anything.’

Less
than a minute later, we pulled up in a quiet avenue and I dimly wondered how he knew the address.

‘
Listen, Jo — we go up to the door. It’s bound to have a spy hole. You ring, I stand to one side. When it opens, say you want to speak to Sutton. OK?’

‘
No, I —’

But
he’d already opened his door and was helping/pulling me out from the other side.

We
walked quickly up the gravelled drive. As we approached the porch, a blinding light came on.

‘
It’s automatic — keep going.’

We
reached the porch. I was trembling violently again. He left me in front of the door, and standing to one side, pressed the button on the intercom, leaving his finger on it.

The
rattle of the spy hole flap, then a metallic voice on the intercom, ‘Aw right, aw right …’ Polo’s voice. ‘Whadda you want?’

‘
I want to speak to Sutton.’

‘
Oh, it’s you.’ He laughed. ‘
Mr
Sutton to you, honey.’ The bolts drew back … my throat closed as the door opened …

‘
Aw right, you’d better co —’

‘
Back! Now!’ Jones was in the doorway, gun pointed at his belly. Polo hesitated and backed off. I followed him in. ‘Close the door, Jo.’

‘
I could get really irritated with you, mister,’ Polo said softly.

‘
Hands behind your head.’

Again,
slowly, he obeyed.

‘
Who is it, Polo?’ Sutton’s voice, coming nearer. Polo looked to say something, but Jones levelled the gun. Sutton appeared. Somehow, I had the time to notice how drawn he looked. His eyes flicked from Jones to me. ‘Is this him, Polo?’

‘
Yes, boss. Sorry.’

‘
What d’you want?’ he said to Jones. He didn’t look worried, just tired. His casual clothes were good quality, yet he somehow looked untidy.

‘
You fixed the brakes on Miss Farewell’s car. Do anything,
anything
, like that again and I’ll fix you.’

‘
Not me,’ he said. ‘I didn’t fix her brakes. But
you
’ — he pointed at him — ‘are a dead man.’

Jones
smiled and shook his head. ‘Not me, Sutton. I’m a friend of Major Hatherleigh’s. Remember him? Hereford’s not a million miles from here.’

Silence,
then, ‘He know you’re here?’