Uncaged (6 page)

“Oh, but he didn’t,” Gladys said. “He cleared everything out. The tree, the decorations, presents, turkey—the lot. The house was like a desert. He worked nonstop over that Christmas. I’ve never seen him smile since. Of course, the little boy—” She jumped as she heard a key in the lock and went on in a forced voice, “Well, here I am, ready to start work again. Thanks for the tea. I’ll get on now.”

Daniel appeared in the kitchen doorway. He looked startled to see Gladys. “I’m glad your sister’s better,” he said when he’d heard her explanation, “but there was no need to hurry back.” Megan had the feeling he was annoyed. Gladys seemed to sense it, too, for she scuttled away upstairs. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you she’d be coming,” he said. “But I wasn’t expecting her back yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Gladys is a natural born gossip,” he said, following some train of thought of his own. “She’s a dear soul, but it doesn’t do to take every word as gospel.”

“She told me about your wife and son. I wish I’d known before. That room I went to last night...it was your son’s room, wasn’t it? And the teddy bear...”

“Was also his.”

She gave a frayed smile. “I’m leaving this morning. You’ll be glad to see the back of me.”

“I told you last night, take a few days to find somewhere.”

But she shook her head. “There isn’t anywhere, Daniel. Thank you for protecting me this long, but now I’ve got to go out to face the world myself.”

“And do what? How will you get Tommy back without my help?”

She looked up. “Your help? You’d do that...after what I—?”

“I think we should forget about that,” he said quickly. “It didn’t happen. The only thing we should think of now is proving your innocence.”

“You believe me innocent?” she asked eagerly.

He didn’t answer at once. “I guess maybe I do,” he said at last.

“You don’t sound entirely convinced.”

“It’s hard to face what I did to you. I don’t want to believe you innocent, Megan. It leaves me with too many burdens to carry. But somehow the picture of you as a murderess just doesn’t convince me anymore. Maybe it happened last night.” He saw her looking at him, and added hastily, “I mean, when you were sleepwalking—the way you talked to that little boy. Even the way you were ready to seduce me to get him back. A woman who would go the lengths of sleeping with a man she hates to be reunited with her son would never do anything that would separate her from him in the first place.”

Without warning, remembered sensations streamed through her—the feel of his hand on her breast, hot tremors going through her body, the eager desire to invite him further.
A man she hates...

She averted her eyes, not to let him see her true feelings. “You’re right about one thing,” she said. “I wouldn’t do anything that could separate me from Tommy, and I didn’t kill Grainger.”

Daniel took a deep breath. “So we have to do something about it.”

B
rian Anderson’s home was set well back from the road, with a curved drive that swept in one side and out the other. Trees protected the house from the eyes of passersby, and Daniel was well along the driveway before he caught his first sight of the building. It was clearly the dwelling of a wealthy, successful man, one who cared a lot about appearances. Daniel felt his hackles rising fast. There was something about this kind of luxurious, perfectly kept house that had always antagonized him. He tried to ignore the feeling and be impartial, but the memory of Megan in the shabby little apartment where he’d first found her wouldn’t go away.

He rang the bell and listened while it sounded deep inside the house. After a moment, the door was opened by a middle-aged woman in a maid’s uniform. “I’d like to see Mr. Anderson,” Daniel told her.

“Who shall I say?”

“Detective Inspector Daniel Keller.”

She looked uncertain. “I’ll have to see.” She closed the door, leaving him outside. After a moment, she returned. “He says he’ll see you.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said ironically. “That’s very gracious of him.”

“Yes, it is,” she said, unconscious of the irony. “He doesn’t see everyone.”

She led him into a large, oak-paneled study where Brian Anderson was sitting behind a desk, concentrating on a computer screen. He waited for a precisely calculated ten seconds before looking up, which gave Daniel a chance to consider the room. To one side of the desk was a large photograph of a young woman. She looked in her mid-twenties and was groomed and made up to glossy perfection, but to Daniel’s eye her glamor was hard and artificial, and her sexuality seemed calculated and sprayed on. He preferred Megan’s beauty with its hint of bruised vulnerability, but evidently Brian Anderson did not. His opinion of the man, not high to start with, sank further.

At last Anderson looked up, stretching his mouth in an approximation of affability that didn’t reach his eyes. “Detective Inspector,” he said slowly, as if considering the words. “My congratulations.”

“Congratulations?”

“Since you announced yourself by your rank I assume you’ve been reinstated in the force. Isn’t that a matter for congratulation?”

“It would be if it had happened,” Daniel retorted, cursing himself for clumsiness. The fact was that he already disliked Anderson so much that he’d tried to intimidate him. But it had backfired, and now he was at a disadvantage.

Anderson gave a cold smile. “I see. One of those unconscious slips that we all make sometimes,” he said, leaving Daniel with the conviction that he’d understood only too well. “So you’re not back in the force yet. That means I can offer you a drink. What will you have?” He moved toward the liquor cabinet.

It was on the tip of Daniel’s tongue to say he’d die before he’d take anything Brian Anderson had to offer, but he remembered in time that he wanted to keep things cordial, so he forced a smile and said, “Something soft, please. I’m driving.”

“And like all good police officers, you disapprove of drinking and driving.”

After a moment, Daniel said, “That’s right.”

Anderson poured him a lemonade. “Now, what can I do for you, Detective Inspector?”

There might have been the hint of a sneer on the final two words, but Daniel told himself not to get paranoid. “I’ve come about your wife,” he said.

“You mean my ex-wife. We’ve been divorced for over a year.”

“You must still have been delighted at the result of her appeal,” Daniel persisted.

Anderson hesitated. “To be frank, that’s a difficult question to answer.”

“Are you telling me it wasn’t a relief to know that she was innocent?”

“But I don’t know that,” Anderson said blandly. “She was released...but that’s not quite the same thing, is it?”

“The court found that there wasn’t enough evidence to convict her. In law, that’s innocence.”

“Ah, yes, in law. But the law is forced to take a very narrow view. For the rest of us it’s a little different.”

“Are you saying you believe her guilty?”

“I’d be more interested to know what you believe, Detective Inspector. What is this visit all about? You formed your opinion about Megan three years ago. You must have been very convinced of your case to, er, lose that statement.”

Daniel gripped his glass so hard that he had to set it down in case he crushed it. He was swamped by irrational hate toward this man who’d once sworn to love and cherish Megan, and was now so coldly indifferent to her troubles. “You imply that I lost that statement deliberately,” he said, keeping calm by an effort of will.

Brian gave a careless, self-confident smile. “Let’s just say that I believe those psychologists who tell us that there’s no such thing as a genuine accident. All accidents spring from the subconscious.”

“This one sprang from exhaustion and overwork,” Daniel said firmly. “Policemen make mistakes, too, but ours attract more attention than other people’s.”

“All right, it was a genuine mistake,” Brian said with a shrug. “But what does it prove? That witness saw a woman who could have been anyone.”

“I believe he saw Megan,” Daniel said emphatically, “and if that’s so, she couldn’t possibly have killed Henry Grainger.”

“So why are you here?” An incredulous smile stretched his thin mouth. “Not an attack of conscience, surely? Acting the social worker?”

“Let’s say I’d like to know why you won’t take her calls.”

“Why should I? What is there to say?”

“There’s a lot to say,” Daniel said, controlling his temper. “Your wife—your ex-wife—lost everything when she was convicted. Now her conviction’s been reversed, she’s entitled to some of it back.”

“Have I understood you properly?” Anderson asked. “You want me to offer her a reconciliation? Take her back? Is that what
she
wants?”

Suddenly Daniel was gasping for air. Until that moment he’d believed himself dispassionate, in command, but the brutal picture presented by that cool question filled him with revulsion. Megan and this self-satisfied man. Living with him. Letting him touch her. She’d said, “I’ll do anything to get Tommy back...the devil himself—” How far would she go?
I’ll do anything...

“I don’t...know what she wants,” he managed to say.

“But you
are
here on her behalf, aren’t you?”

“Only to make you see reason about not shutting her out. She’s entitled to see her son.”

“She’s really got you on her side, hasn’t she? A persuasive lady, I have to admit. But you see, I know Megan better than you. Have you discovered yet that she has a killing temper, or has she carefully kept that little tidbit to herself?”

“I’ve seen her when she was upset,” Daniel conceded, remembering how Megan had flown at him on that first evening. “But she has plenty of cause to be upset.”

Brian ignored the last part of this remark. “It’s a spectacular temper, isn’t it?” he asked affably. “Once seen, never forgotten. They didn’t call her Tiger Lady for nothing. Henry Grainger should have been more careful.”

“Good God!” Daniel exclaimed in disgust. “Do you
want
to think her guilty? What about your son?”

“My son is being protected from her. As a responsible father, I consider that my first duty. Tommy has forgotten Megan very satisfactorily, and I’ve no intention of allowing his life to be ruined by an unstable woman. And I may as well tell you that I shall soon be marrying again.” He nodded in the direction of the picture of the young woman. “My future wife will be an excellent mother to Tommy. If—” He checked himself as the phone rang. “Excuse me.” He answered, and Daniel could just hear a female voice through the phone. At once, Anderson’s voice altered. “Hello, Selena, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Daniel was taken aback by the change that had come over the man. His very skin seemed to be suffused by awareness of the woman he was speaking to. Daniel didn’t think it was love he was witnessing. He’d already judged Anderson incapable of a true emotion. But sexually he was in thrall to the brassy creature staring out of the picture. Like a good policeman, Daniel filed the knowledge away for future reference.

Anderson became suddenly self-conscious. “Would you mind waiting outside a moment?” he said abruptly.

Thus dismissed, Daniel went out into the hall and began to look around, taking in the tasteful luxury, the signs of a man who’d been a success in business and was thoroughly satisfied with himself. He’d seldom disliked anyone so much at first acquaintance as he disliked Brian Anderson.

As he could hear that Anderson was settling into a long conversation, he wandered toward the back of the house where he found a room with large windows on two sides, giving it a sunny aspect. Several pictures hung on the walls, one of which attracted his attention. It showed a puppy bouncing high in the air after a ball, and was clearly the work of a very young artist. But though the execution was immature, the lines were confident and true, revealing a genuine flair.

There was no sound or movement, but his trained instincts made him suddenly aware that he was no longer alone. Turning, he saw a boy of about nine standing in a door that led out to the garden, watching him, and he felt a frisson go up his spine at something familiar about this child. Superficially he didn’t resemble Megan. His features had the unfinished look common in young children, and his only resemblance was to other nine-year-old boys. But this had to be Megan’s son because he had her quality of intense stillness, like a cat peering through grass. He stood watching in silence, sizing Daniel up. “Hello,” he said at last. “That’s my picture.”

“You mean, you painted it?” The child nodded. “It’s excellent. You’re very talented.”

“It’s my puppy, Jacko. I like drawing things that are alive. It’s nice if you can get them looking right.” He added, “I’m Tommy.”

Daniel decided to work fast. He wasn’t sure how much time he had. “I guessed you must be,” he said. “You’re exactly as your mother described you.”

A sudden glow lay on the child’s face. “You know my mother?” he asked eagerly.

So he’d forgotten Megan “very satisfactorily,” had he? Daniel thought grimly. “Yes, I know her,” he said.

“Is she coming to see me soon? I thought she’d come as soon as they let her out—but she didn’t.”

“You knew she was out?” Daniel asked cautiously.

“One of the boys at school showed me the paper. I didn’t know. Daddy just said she’d gone away and left us. He made it sound as if she didn’t love me anymore.”

“Don’t ever believe that,” Daniel said at once.

The child shook his head. “I never did,” he said with a simple dignity that was far beyond his years. “Daddy was very angry when I found out the truth. He said I shouldn’t go back to that school and now I have to go somewhere else, and I don’t like it.”

“What school do you go to now?” Daniel asked softly.

“Buckbridge Junior.”

Daniel sat down so that his face was nearer Tommy’s level. “I don’t know how much time we have, so listen carefully,” he said, and Tommy nodded intently. “Your mother couldn’t come to see you because she hasn’t been well. But she sent me to talk to your father and...and tell you that she still loves you. She thinks about you all the time.”

“Then why doesn’t she come to see me?”

“She will, just as soon as she can.”

“You mean, when Daddy lets her.”

It was said with a sad wisdom that was too much for a boy of his age. And before Daniel could suppress it, came the fleeting thought, my fault?

“You miss her a lot, don’t you?” he said gently.

Tommy nodded, looking up at him, and Daniel saw that he had Megan’s eyes, a brown so light that it was almost golden.

“Look,” Tommy said, tugging at Daniel’s arm and taking him to a small cupboard, which he pulled open. From inside he took a sketchbook and flipped over some pages until he came to a sketch of a woman’s head. Like the picture on the wall, it was rough and immature, but the likeness was there in the angle of the head and the curve of the lips. Daniel felt a pain around his heart at the thought of the lonely child drawing his mother to protect himself from the people who wanted to wipe her from his mind.

“Can I take this?” he asked quickly.

Tommy seemed to understand perfectly because in a moment he’d ripped out the page, folded it and handed it to Daniel. “Will you tell her...tell her...” His voice wobbled.

“Don’t worry,” Daniel said gently. “This will tell her everything she wants to know. And don’t let anyone say she’s forgotten you, because she hasn’t. She’s your mother, and mothers don’t forget.” Something made him add, “Neither do fathers.”

Tommy gave him a puzzled look, but before he could ask anything there was a sound in the hall. Daniel had a sudden inspiration. Pulling out a pen, he scribbled some figures on the pad and closed it, mouthing “Telephone.” Tommy looked at him in comprehension. The next moment a shadow darkened the doorway and they both looked up to see an imposing elderly woman with an expression of iron. “I think this conversation has gone far enough,” she said in a hard voice.

Tommy was standing close enough for Daniel to feel him flinch. It was obvious who this was. Her resemblance to Brian Anderson was marked, except that she had a more decided chin. She came forward and looked down at Tommy, dominating him.

“What have I told you?” she demanded. When he didn’t answer, she repeated firmly, “What have I told you, Tommy? I’ve told you not to mention that woman in this house. Haven’t I?”

“She’s not ‘that woman,” Daniel said in disgust. “She’s his mother.”

He might not have spoken for all the heed she paid him.

“You’re normally such a good little boy. It’s a shame to spoil it by being disobedient, dwelling on people who are no good and best forgotten. What were you saying?”

Tommy averted his head from them both. Although he couldn’t see the child’s face, Daniel guessed he was fighting back tears.

“Tommy,” Mrs. Anderson’s voice was as iron as her face.
“What were you saying?”

“For God’s sake, stop this,” Daniel said desperately. “It’s sick, trying to force a child to forget his mother.”